No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 73

When night fell, Edgar posted a maid outside my door.

Sarah, who had returned from the palace, must have heard what happened—she didn’t come anywhere near me.

Now that I would no longer become one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, I wasn’t a threat to Lady Rosette’s ambitions. I expected as much.

Sarah, who had once tried to keep her position as my personal maid, didn’t even bother pretending anymore. She clearly decided there was nothing left to gain from me.

Which meant Lady Rosette had likely already heard about my situation.

I had panicked earlier, but now that my mind was clear again, it was obvious—Edgar’s plan was reckless.

Yes, my meeting with the Queen had been arranged privately by Marchioness Federica. But that didn’t mean I had merely met the Marchioness’s granddaughter. I had met the Queen herself.

Edgar saying he’d send me to a convent was no different than openly defying the Queen’s will.

He must have truly believed that the Queen and the Marchioness would be taken with him the moment they met. Instead, his pride had taken hit after hit.

Still… to let wounded pride drive him to this?

Clearly, I wasn’t the one who’d gone mad—Edgar was.

And if he hadn’t gone mad, then he had to be relying on someone. Right now, the only one who made sense was Lady Rosette.

If Lady Rosette, Cecilia’s stepmother, claimed I’d shown signs of mental instability since childhood, people would believe it.

Edgar could say he had kept my condition a secret for the sake of the family, and now, with a heavy heart, he could no longer hide it—not even from the Queen. He could keep his “good husband” image intact with that excuse.

Time was running out.

Even if I figured out Edgar’s entire plan, I couldn’t stop it all at once.

I was lucky Marchioness Federica wasn’t the kind of noblewoman Edgar imagined—someone who would see his arrogance and cruelty as strength.

If she had been, I didn’t want to even imagine what might have happened to me next.

Still, just because she was kind didn’t mean everything would be fine.

She might feel sorry for me and protect me for a while, but she wouldn’t put me above the Queen’s reputation.

A woman running away from her husband—what a scandal. No one would allow someone like that to serve the Queen.

People would talk. And if the rumors threatened her granddaughter’s reputation, I didn’t believe the Marchioness would stand by me for long.

There was only one way out.

I had to destroy Edgar’s mask.

If he hadn’t acted so aggressively, I might have taken my time and used Elodie in my plan.

But Edgar didn’t realize that when he started digging a grave for me, dirt would land on him too.

I opened the window.

Before Edgar stationed a maid outside my door, I had already asked Martha to tell Sir Juan and Justin what was happening.

Would Sir Juan come?

He’d said he considered me a friend.

Now, I had no choice but to depend on what might be his kindness—or his pity.

Clever, aren’t I? I scoffed at myself. I’d said I hated pity.

So much for my vow to protect my pride, even if I was nothing more than a flawed person. That only applied when I wasn’t in real danger, didn’t it?

“My lady.”

A voice came from below the balcony. A shadow rose from the garden—Sir Juan.

“I’ve tied a horse outside the front gate. I’ll draw their attention. You run as fast as you can and get there.”

“Can’t I just sneak out quietly? Edgar wouldn’t think I’d try to run.”

Sir Juan shook his head.

“Lady Rosette is here.”

Of course.

She was far more calculating than Edgar.

If she saw that Edgar had finally decided to send me away, she probably saw it as an opportunity she couldn’t let slip.

Edgar had often called on her to convince me in the past. But I never gave in, and she failed each time.

Now, the two of them had likely decided together that it was time to get rid of me for good.

Lady Rosette would have filled in the gaps Edgar missed. By now, there were probably maids and guards patrolling the estate.

“If I’m caught, you’ll be in danger too.”

“I can refuse unfair orders and resign. That’s all, my lady.”

He said it so simply and began placing a ladder up to the balcony.

I took a deep breath and climbed over the railing.

With each step down, I regretted the way I had once judged him.

“I’ll repay you,” I said the moment I reached the ground. It was an apology that had been sitting on my tongue for a long time.

“If you think of this as a debt,” he said with a slight laugh, “you’ll never repay it in a lifetime.”

“I just reached out to help a friend in trouble.”

“But this doesn’t benefit you. Wouldn’t it make more sense to ask for something in return, someday?”

His smile faded.

Maybe I said it wrong.

Before I came into Cecilia’s body, my life was simple.

When someone was kind to me, I returned it as quickly as I could—then I ran.

If someone hurt me, I just assumed they had a reason and ignored it.

It was easier to be around people who didn’t like me. That way, I didn’t have to worry about leaving.

“People don’t always need a reason to help each other.”

But I wasn’t really a person, was I?

Maybe this was Cecilia’s influence.

Martha’s affection was for Cecilia, not for me.

Sir Juan had never even met the real Cecilia. And unlike Ricardo, he wasn’t a flawed, broken soul like me.

“You’re helping me because you pity me.”

People never helped without a reason. Not the ones I’d known.

Even pity was a reason—but only people with feelings could feel it.

“My lady?”

Sir Juan spoke as he folded the ladder and hid it among the bushes.

“There are countless people out there more unfortunate than you. But I don’t help them.”

He glanced around and gestured for me to follow. I kicked off my slippers and stepped onto the earth barefoot.

The soil in the garden had been so carefully tended that it didn’t hurt at all.

Sir Juan moved first, ducking behind a bush. I followed quickly.

“I’m no saint. I walk past the misfortunes of strangers all the time.”

“Misfortune…”

“If you can’t tell the difference between unfortunate and pitiful, then perhaps it’s time you revisited your vocabulary lessons, my lady.”

I was surprised by his sarcasm. Sir Juan had always treated me with polite restraint—never like this.

“There. I hear footsteps coming from that direction. I’ll draw their attention. You run straight for the main gate. Don’t look back.”

There was no time to argue. He took off, and soon after, several footsteps chased after him.

I waited until things fell silent, then bolted toward the gate.

My breath caught in my throat. But I didn’t stop.

If they caught me now, it would all be over.

No—Cecilia’s life would be over. Even while running, I corrected my thoughts.

“Lia!”

The gate was open. And standing there was Ricardo.

“Ri—Ricardo?”

“I’ll explain later.”

With just those few words, he pulled me onto the horse.

Then he climbed up behind me, his body pressing against mine.

“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked.

“To Isabel’s estate. Bite your tongue and stop talking.”

The horse picked up speed. I found myself trapped in Ricardo’s arms as the night blurred past us.

His heartbeat against my back was as fast as the galloping hooves beneath us.

“Lord…”

Feeling it made me oddly uncomfortable, so I spoke.

When he didn’t reply, I called again.

“Ricardo.”

“You always do this to me.”

He answered a question I hadn’t asked yet.

“If this always happens,” I said, “maybe you should see a doctor.”

“It’s not really a condition I want treated.”

“You once said you knew the cure.”

In other words: don’t blame me for your feelings.

Ricardo laughed softly above me.

“Lia… Isabel will do anything for the Queen. And the Queen will do anything for herself.”

The horse veered off the road and onto a narrow path through the woods.

Ricardo ducked low to leap the horse over a low stump. What little distance was left between us disappeared.

“If you stop being Countess Linton, there’s nothing I won’t do.”

As he whispered into my ear, the horse took flight. My heart rose and dropped, just like on a swing—weightless, suspended, then crashing back down.

We had taken a path the carriages couldn’t follow. The Marchioness’s estate was now in sight.

Ricardo pulled on the reins, and the horse gradually slowed.

“Isabel is waiting for you.”

Just as he said, the estate was alight.

Only half a day ago, Edgar had made the decision to send me to the convent.

And in that short time, Ricardo had gone to the Marchioness, explained everything, and secured her help.

His dedication was overwhelming. Especially considering all he ever asked in return was to stay by my side. A price so absurdly simple, it hurt.

“If I divorce Edgar…”

I had misjudged Martha. I had held unfair assumptions about Sir Juan.

Ricardo said we were the same—but if anyone knew how different we were, it was me.

“You can give me a house,” I said softly.

The horse came to a sudden stop.

Ricardo had yanked on the reins, hard.

“If I didn’t look up to you, I would’ve left you here for that comment.”

In this world, for a man to offer a woman a home without marriage was no better than suggesting she become his mistress.

“You said you wanted me.”

“I asked you to be the queen of my world,” he said.

Ricardo dismounted, clearly needing space.

He led the horse on foot. From where I sat, I could only see the back of his head.

“I don’t know anymore.”

I broke the silence, the only sound until then being the horse’s steady steps.

“I’m not the person you think I am. I’m broken—flawed in ways no one can fix. People don’t like me. And honestly, they shouldn’t. Broken things are unsettling.”

“Then be an unsettling queen.”

His voice was gruff but firm.

“If you want to be happy tending horses, I won’t stop you. But I doubt you could ever really find happiness in a stable. So if you’re going to be cursed, you may as well be cursed as a queen.”

Sir Juan had said something similar once.

He told me I wasn’t pitiful—just unhappy.

“Don’t be Countess Linton. Don’t be Cecilia Rosette. Just live as yourself—and let me stay by your side. That’s all I want. That’s not such a difficult request, is it?”

He didn’t help me off the horse. He simply walked ahead, leading the reins.

So I couldn’t see his face.

But something about his words—just be yourself—made me lift my head toward the sky.

It was the first time I had truly looked up at the night sky since coming to this world.

Support