No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 68

The Queen’s Palace was magnificent and solemn. My ornate dress suddenly felt out of place in such a dignified space.

Thankfully, Marchioness Federica was dressed in similar fashion, which eased my worry that I had made some irreparable misstep.

After a brief wait, a young man emerged from the palace to escort us. He greeted the Marchioness with familiarity and warmth.

“Her Majesty was saying just the other day that you usually catch a cold around this time of year. She’s worried.”

“Martha fusses too much. A queen shouldn’t be so concerned with such trivial matters.”

“How could your health ever be considered trivial? Even someone as forward-looking as Her Majesty can’t help but care deeply for you.”

The young man chatted on cheerfully. He had clearly mastered the art of charming the Marchioness, and it worked—she handed him a small pouch.

I only realized it was a tip when I heard the coins clink inside.

We continued down a long corridor and entered a small waiting room. The young man explained that those without direct audience would remain there.

Sarah’s eyes grew wide as she tried to take in every corner of the room, as if committing it to memory.

She had been just as disgruntled when treated this way at the Marchioness’s estate—furious at being separated from me, her mistress. But here, in the Queen’s Palace, she was clearly impressed.

To me, it was just another room. I didn’t understand what made this one so different.

Once Sarah sat down quietly, the young man resumed walking. We passed through three more heavy doors.

“Her Majesty is just beyond this point.”

Perhaps overwhelmed by the palace’s grandeur, Edgar—who had been silent—fidgeted and rustled as he adjusted the gift he was holding.

The young man narrowed his eyes at Edgar and extended his hand.

“Unapproved items are not permitted beyond this point, Count Linton.”

Edgar looked to Marchioness Federica, clearly expecting her to speak up for him.

“This is a gift for Her Majesty.”

“Yes. Please hand it to me. I’ll make sure it goes through the proper procedures and is delivered appropriately.”

“Procedures? Are you suggesting I might be smuggling in something to harm the Queen?”

Edgar was still holding a grudge from the last time he lost the chance to present a gift—when I had taken the precious lark he brought.

“There are strict protocols within the Queen’s Palace, Count. Everything, even a spoon, must be inspected.”

There was a certain disdain in the young man’s voice—as if he found it pathetic that Edgar didn’t know this already.

Edgar’s face turned red with anger.

“So this is how the Queen’s Palace treats guests? I was personally invited by Her Majesty!”

Edgar was intelligent, in a way—but his intelligence was shallow, limited to short-term calculations.

He truly believed that all nobles shared his values and arrogance. He thought that raising his voice and making a scene would somehow impress Marchioness Federica.

It was his way of saying, “I’m important. I’m refined. I won’t be looked down upon.”

Watching him try so desperately to prove himself was… uncomfortable.

“I’m embarrassed for him,” Ricardo muttered beside me. I nodded slightly.

If Edgar had known Marchioness Federica’s personality better, would he have acted differently?

Probably not. He didn’t see her as an individual but as a symbol—the embodiment of the noble Federica family.

Whatever unique traits she had as a person didn’t matter to him. All he cared about was how a prestigious family was supposed to behave—and he clung tightly to that image.

“The Queen extended her invitation only to the Marchioness and Countess Linton,” the young man replied, completely unfazed by Edgar’s outburst.

He had the demeanor of someone used to dealing with difficult visitors.

“Lord Ricardo has standing permission to visit at any time. As for you, Count…”

He trailed off intentionally, then offered a smooth smile.

“Had Countess Linton not requested your presence, you would have remained in the side room with her maid.”

Edgar turned to me, stunned. I watched him closely, curious to see what ridiculous choice he’d make this time.

Before he could say anything, Marchioness Federica sighed, sounding tired.

“Count Linton. Do you intend to disregard the laws of the Queen’s Palace?”

“My lady, I only hoped to bring joy to Her Majesty with this gift—”

“My Martha doesn’t collect vases, you know. And yet, her collection overflows. I doubt receiving another one from you will bring her the joy you imagine.”

Edgar stared at her, dumbfounded—finally realizing, perhaps for the first time, that the Marchioness did not think highly of him.

“…I will follow your guidance.”

With a sharp snap of the young man’s fingers, a woman appeared and gently took the vase from Edgar’s hands.

“Well, now that’s sorted,” Edgar mumbled, lowering his head, deep in thought.

As I adjusted the folds of my dress, our eyes met.

His were filled with silent blame. Bitter resentment.

Why?

Before I could even raise an eyebrow in question, the doors opened.

Marchioness Federica stepped inside first, and Edgar hurried after her like a child chasing a parent.

“What a temper,” Ricardo muttered beside me.

Ricardo let out a brief sigh and held out his arm.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was proper to accept another man’s escort when I had a husband.

“He’s the one who left his wife behind first, remember?” Ricardo reminded me casually.

He had a point. It wasn’t gentlemanly of Edgar to abandon me in a place like this.

Marchioness Federica was visiting her granddaughter, so perhaps it made sense for her to move about freely, but for me, this was my very first royal audience.

Walking in alone would appear awkward. Accepting Ricardo’s escort seemed like the more appropriate course of action.

I made up my mind and gently placed my hand on Ricardo’s arm.

The dress was so heavy that even walking down a long hallway and passing through three doors had left my legs trembling.

“Martha,” Marchioness Federica greeted warmly as she spotted the queen.

The queen, seated at the head of the room, let a smile break through her stern expression.

“Grandmother,” Queen Martha rose and helped the Marchioness take her seat with her own hands.

Edgar, who still hadn’t greeted the queen, stood awkwardly in place, clearly unsure what to do.

While Queen Martha ensured the Marchioness’s footstool was properly arranged, her gaze passed Edgar and settled directly on me.

“Cecilia.”

I faltered for a moment at the unexpected familiarity in her voice.

If Ricardo hadn’t gently guided me forward, I might have stood there like a fool, staring blankly and forgetting all decorum.

“Your Majesty, it is an honor to see you again,” I said.

“It’s an earned one. You’re the first person I ever specifically asked to see.”

Wait, the Queen asked for me? I had assumed it was Marchioness Federica who had arranged to bring me with her.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Didn’t my grandmother mention it?”

Marchioness Federica sipped her tea, pretending not to hear. Queen Martha let out a short, amused breath before turning back to me.

“She loves surprises. I imagine she wanted to catch you off guard.”

“Well, then, she succeeded. Had I not been holding myself together, I might’ve fainted from the honor.”

The queen cast a quick glance at Ricardo, who still stood beside me, and gave a quiet snort.

“Ricardo, you’re looking well.”

“What man wouldn’t, having the pleasure of seeing Your Majesty?”

Another mask. This time, Ricardo wore the one of a dangerous, charming noble bastard who lived like there was no tomorrow.

“One day I’ll have that silver tongue of yours served at dinner,” the queen teased.

“If I’m to be the main dish at your table, Your Majesty, I can think of no finer fate.”

As the two of them bantered easily, I shifted my weight in the chair and subtly moved one foot out from under the crushing weight of the gown.

“Sit, Cecilia. That ceremonial dress must be exhausting.”

If I could’ve collapsed into the chair, I would have. Instead, I forced myself to sit slowly, with as much grace as I could muster.

“Haa…”

Still, I couldn’t quite suppress the sigh of relief that escaped me.

“It must’ve been a rough walk, hmm?” Queen Martha asked, amusement flickering across her face.

“If Your Majesty will forgive my honesty, I nearly gave up halfway through the room.”

The Queen had appreciated my bluntness before—I remembered that from the boat party. Hoping she still did, I gestured to the middle of the grand hall as I spoke.

She chuckled.

I blinked in surprise.

Back on the boat, Queen Martha had never broken from her dignified composure. She had allowed herself the occasional smile with Josephine or the Marchioness, but never a full laugh.

To hear her chuckle like that now—it caught me completely off guard.

Unable to maintain eye contact, I averted my gaze. Unfortunately, my eyes landed on Edgar’s shoes, still planted at the doorway.

“Edgar?”

He had been biting his lips nervously. But when I called his name, he abruptly changed his expression.

“My dear, are you uncomfortable? Say the word, and I’ll gladly serve as your footrest.”

His tone—and his suggestion—were more shocking than the Queen’s laughter.

“So you were here, Count Linton,” the Queen said dryly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Edgar immediately dropped to one knee, pressing a hand to his chest.

“My apologies. My wife is delicate, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her long enough to greet Your Majesty sooner.”

That was a lie. He’d practically sprinted after the Marchioness, leaving me behind without a second thought.

I could guess what he was thinking.

Seeing me get along well with the Queen—far better than he’d expected—he probably thought pretending to be a devoted husband would win him points.

At this rate, I wasn’t sure if he was clever or just pathetically transparent.

He was a noble of three generations, yet here he was putting on a laughably obvious act.

“It’s only natural for a husband to care for his wife. Sit, Count Linton.”

Wearing a smile that barely masked his desperation, Edgar took the seat beside me and even placed a cushion behind my back—playing the perfect doting husband.

“How fortunate Cecilia is to be cherished so dearly by you,” Queen Martha said.

“…Pardon?”

Edgar blinked, confused by the Queen’s unexpected tone.

I, too, was caught off guard.

“Since our last meeting, the more I thought about her, the more I liked her. I’ve decided to bring her into the palace.”

Reflexively, I turned to Ricardo. He blinked once—clearly a signal to accept whatever was coming.

“If she is to be brought in…”

Edgar understood faster than I did.

“You mean… my wife?”

“I intend to bring her in as a lady-in-waiting, Count Linton.”

Even in the Queen’s presence, Edgar couldn’t mask the dismay that instantly twisted his face.

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