No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 47

I had just sworn yesterday that I wouldn’t get involved with Ricardo anymore.

“Good morning, Countess of Linton.”

There he was Ricardo, smiling brightly as he stood in the front garden of my home.

“What is this?”

He held out a thick envelope.

“A list that’ll be as good as blood and bone to you, Countess.”

“If this is about court etiquette, I think I’m just as competent as you, Lord Ricardo.”

I might not be an expert, but I had enough sense and tact to get through it.

Besides, I was only accompanying Marchioness Federica at the Queen’s request. It was a personal visit, not an official court event.

Too much formality would ruin the atmosphere.

“What kind of fool would try to teach the Countess of Linton court manners? Even a passing pigeon would laugh at the idea.”

The use of a pigeon in his metaphor was no accident.

Pigeons, common in lower-class neighborhoods, pecking at crumbs on the ground were a subtle, self-deprecating jab.

Ricardo’s analogy revealed his habit of making himself small.

And every time I saw a bit of myself in him, I felt sick.

I imitated Cecilia, yes. But I had no intention of becoming her.

I kept my true self buried deep, showing only what Cecilia might have been, had she grown up in a normal, privileged life.

Really, I wasn’t mimicking Cecilia, I was mimicking nobility itself.

“I can’t think of anything else you could help me with, Lord.”

“What about a list of mercenaries Edgar’s hired?”

I let out a long sigh. I’d only come out for a quiet morning walk, hoping to make the most of the rare peace that came with Edgar’s absence. That was my mistake.

At least I’d insisted I didn’t need a maid for a stroll through my own garden so Sarah wasn’t here.

“Your little information network is starting to get on my nerves.”

“My information network?”

It was obvious now—Ricardo had planted someone near me.

There was no other way he could’ve kept such close tabs on my every move.

“I only spoke to Sir Juan about the mercenaries. And he swore to me he’d never speak to you again. I may not care for oaths, but I trust his character. So, I’ll exclude him from suspicion.”

“Earning the trust of the Countess of Linton that’s something to aspire to. I should take a page from that knight’s book.”

My trust in Juan was little more than instinct. But someone like me lacking what makes a person whole often sensed human nature with unsettling clarity.

I reacted strongly to things I didn’t have. So, I could feel, even without proof, when someone possessed what I didn’t.

“Lord Ricardo. We’re not the same.”

“Haven’t we already established that?”

“I don’t have the slightest intention of becoming your queen.”

“Another matter already settled.”

He answered lightly, without missing a beat.

I was trying to maintain the image of Cecilia of a noble lady. But the real me, fractured and bitter, was clawing its way out.

I wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him, force him to look at me.

I wanted to scream that I wasn’t a person, wasn’t a beast, wasn’t a queen.

That I was a monster who’d driven her own mother to death and stolen Cecilia’s body for herself.

I had dated, briefly, in the past.

Men who had said they’d make my unhappy life better, who had confidently reached out their hands.

But I never welcomed their kindness. I couldn’t.

And eventually, they all got tired of me.

Because that’s the kind of person I was.

Even if Ricardo offered me everything, it would only feel like a burden. Worse, he didn’t seem like the type to give up.

Trapped in his own delusions, he projected his ideals onto me.

“Shall I be honest?”

I didn’t want to waste any more time playing emotional tug-of-war.

“You’re only getting in my way. You may be the heir to the Bastian duchy, but you’re not the Duke. The real Duke still holds all the power. He hasn’t given you anything not even something small.”

Ricardo, who’d been examining the leaves to avoid my eyes, finally turned his face toward me.

“Call me a materialist if you want. But what I need isn’t a powerless heir. I need someone with real influence.”

Josephine had once advised me to use Ricardo.

But she didn’t know him like I did.

Ricardo was not the kind of man who’d be satisfied just being used.

If he ever proved his worth to me, he’d be ready waiting to claim the reward he believed he’d earned.

Ever since the boat party, when he opened up to me, he’d been looking for every opportunity to make me accept him—make me take responsibility for the bond he imagined between us.

“Want me to say it more clearly? I don’t want to be with you. We may be similar, but we are not the same. And even if we were the same, the answer would still be no. Because unlike you, I hate my own kind.”

Another monster like me, walking this world? That would be a disaster.

So terrible, I might’ve hung myself just to bring the number back down to one.

“Stop chasing this ridiculous fantasy. Start thinking about how to live like everyone else, before it’s too late.”

Ricardo’s desire to be by my side had nothing to do with romance.

Even if I remained the Countess of Linton forever, he would’ve been content just to have a reason to stay close—like a loyal beast.

He didn’t want a lover. He wanted someone like himself. A kindred creature.

And me? I once killed a cactus by forgetting to water it. And now I was supposed to be responsible for a living, breathing human being for life?

Just the thought made it hard to breathe.

Normally, I didn’t say cruel things to people.

A monster, trembling in fear of being found out, doesn’t get to insult a human being. That would be absurd.

But Ricardo had already called himself a beast. And since it was his first time seeing a true monster, he had mistaken me for something like himself.

To push away this deluded beast, I figured he could handle a little harshness.

“Countess of Linton,” Ricardo said quietly as he reached out and gently ran his hand down my back.

Only then did I realize I was breathing heavily, worked up from the confrontation.

“Cecilia.”

He said my name, and I snapped my head up in surprise.

“Even this won’t make me give you up.”

Ricardo was calm.

“You’re strong. Strong enough to take responsibility for me. One word from you, and you’ll have a loyal stray without a leash at your command. If what you need isn’t the young lord but the actual Duke of Bastian—I can make that happen too.”

“Unbelievable… you’re truly insane.”

I let out a breath and muttered.

“I had no purpose, no goal in life. If I hadn’t met you, my name would’ve been in the obituaries soon. Cecilia, I want to belong to you. You are the light of my life.”

It was a grand, flowery confession, melodramatic and self-indulgent.

I’d once said things like that too. I used to believe I was the most pitiful, tragic soul in the world.

After my mother’s death, that self-pity turned into self-loathing.

Whatever the psychologists called it, for me, it was progress.

The moment I realized no one was going to save me and that my life was this way because of me, it changed everything.

Ricardo needed to go through that same reckoning.

“Lord Ricardo, there is no light.”

“There is,” he insisted, pointing at me.

His condition was worse than I thought.

“No, that’s just a hallucination. I’ve had the same thing. If you lock yourself up for a few days and stop eating, it’ll pass.”

Not exactly a medically recommended cure, of course.

A mentally stable person should see a professional, get therapy, take care of themselves.

But people like us born missing parts had to punish ourselves.

Only through constant pain could we truly understand how small we were, and how far above us everyone else was.

That’s how we brought ourselves down a notch. If you succeed at that, self-pity doesn’t stand a chance.

“Sure, some people have a kind of light. Not me. People who can feel joy, sadness, love, those people shine a little. But I’m not one of them. So, if you think you saw a light in me, that was just a hallucination.”

Ricardo’s face faltered. He looked stunned.

This time, I reached out and gently patted his back.

“Go home. Lock yourself up for a few days. You’ll see I’m right.”

“No! Wait, Cecilia.”

“You mean, Countess of Linton.”

“Cecilia, I truly—”

Refusing to give up easily—that, too, was a symptom.

I’d gone through all of this before.

“I understand. You want something to lean on. But that’s all it is. When someone’s been walking too long and gets tired, they want to lean on the nearest pole, not because it’s special, just because it’s there.”

Ricardo bowed his head, silent.

“I offered you a crown,” he finally said bitterly, “and you’ve reduced yourself to a pole.”

“Fine,” he added after a long pause. “I’ll do as you said. I’ll lock myself away.”

“I wish you a full recovery,” I said sincerely.

I really did hope he got better.

Even if Ricardo could never become fully human, he at least needed to stay in the beast category.

Because if he slipped and joined my category monster, I’d have to betray Cecilia and end my life for the sake of peace.

There couldn’t be two of me in the world.

“Should I skip meals too?”

He sounded serious—like he truly intended to go through with it.

“Yes. If it’s too hard, a few sips of water are okay. But no sunlight. You should be completely alone. It’ll be uncomfortable, but it’s best to send your staff away for a while.”

“Is that how you cured yourself?”

I nodded confidently.

“So that’s why your health was so poor…”

He muttered something under his breath. I couldn’t hear it clearly.

If it had been something I was meant to hear, he wouldn’t have mumbled it.

Rather than ask, I focused on giving him more advice.

Of course, the fastest path to healing would’ve been the death of someone close to him.

But that came with the risk of dragging him down to my level—a monster.

“If a few days pass and you’re still not better, can I ask for more advice?”

I nodded without hesitation.

“Of course. There are other ways, too. But for now, just start. The first step is always the hardest.”

Ricardo looked at me with a strange expression and then turned to leave.

“This—since I already brought it, do with it what you like. Use it or burn it.”

He handed me the envelope and walked away.

I watched his retreating back, holding the envelope in my hand.

It was easier than I’d expected to push him away.

…Wait. Wasn’t it too easy?

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