No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 81

Two days had passed since the luncheon. Marchioness Federica had once again invited me to dine with her, share tea, and take walks together. She even asked me to read to her in the library.

There was no need to say it aloud—this was clearly her silent approval.

Ricardo had been visiting the marquess’s estate daily, supposedly under the Queen’s orders.

But whether the Queen had actually issued those orders, or Ricardo was simply using a past promise as an excuse to come and go, remained uncertain.

Marchioness Federica no longer treated Ricardo with the same fondness she once had.

I suspected it was because, while I might be someone the Queen intended to keep close, Ricardo was nothing more than a “gift” from her granddaughter in the marchioness’s eyes.

She may have cared for him in her own way and shown affection, but she never saw him as an equal. And when someone she considered beneath her began opposing her on every matter instead of pleasing her, he clearly fell out of favor.

“You went through quite a bit to win the marchioness over,” I said when we were alone, curious if Ricardo felt any regret about how things had turned out.

“It was a relationship built out of necessity,” he replied casually, sipping his tea without a hint of emotion. I took a moment to review Ricardo’s situation.

Duke Bastian had acknowledged him as his heir, but still hadn’t welcomed him into the ducal estate.

He wouldn’t officially inherit the title until Duke Bastian passed away. And between now and then, many things could change.

What if another illegitimate child appeared? Now that Ricardo had set a precedent, it wouldn’t be hard to swap him out—especially if the new child was given his name to keep things quiet.

“So your true goal from the start was Her Majesty.”

“In my position, hoping for the King’s favor would be wishful thinking.”

The King himself had a mistress and illegitimate children. In that sense, he was likely far more understanding of Ricardo than the Queen, who was expected to turn a blind eye to her husband’s affairs.

“If His Majesty truly intends to make a child born out of wedlock the crown prince, then he’ll want to erase every flaw that can’t be hidden—aside from the birth itself.”

I understood. Ricardo had once told me even illegitimate children had their own hierarchy.

The King wouldn’t want his son—whose gender wasn’t even certain yet—to be surrounded by people who reminded the world of his origins.

“Meanwhile, Her Majesty is forced to rely on a ‘half-blooded’ duke.”

When I said that, Ricardo gave me a proud smile, like a teacher pleased with his star pupil.

“Let’s hope Her Majesty has a son,” I added.

“Amen,” Ricardo said, making the sign of the cross. I awkwardly mimicked the gesture.

In this world, royalty was believed to be blessed by the gods. Any prayers or blessings for them had to be offered in the name of the divine.

“It won’t be easy,” he continued. “His Majesty treats Her Majesty with respect, but that’s all.”

I recalled Penelope’s dreamy face when she told me about the King and Queen’s love story.

The people believed the royal couple had fallen in love at first sight and married for love.

But love wasn’t a feeling that lasted forever. Even so, the King had betrayed the Queen far too easily.

“No wonder Marchioness Federica talks about the Queen like she’s a helpless child.”

They clearly weren’t bound by love. Ricardo nodded in agreement.

“It was more of a contract. The King didn’t want a powerful in-law. Why else would he choose a noblewoman from his own country instead of a foreign princess? Fortunately for him, he inherited a peaceful nation.”

Based on the simple history I’d learned in my previous world, countries without external enemies usually suffered from internal ones.

Peace did little to strengthen royal authority. Once people’s basic needs were met, they started wanting more. Human nature always aimed higher.

I didn’t fully understand it—but if history had proven it, then I could accept it.

“I only brought up the Queen to change the subject. I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously.”

Ricardo gave a small, sulky complaint when I fell silent, thinking about the Queen’s circumstances.

“I thought you’d ask something else,” he said softly, watching me closely.

“Like… whether I was really absent from the luncheon two days ago.”

Now that he mentioned it, I had been meaning to ask him something.

“How is Miss Elodie?” I asked.

Ricardo set his teacup down with a sharp clink and crossed his arms.

“Are you serious? Of all the things you could ask, you’re worried about Elodie?”

I shrugged—a gesture Ricardo had seen from me often, especially when he already knew the answer but played dumb. His eyes narrowed slightly at the familiar move.

“Alright. Since you asked, I’ll tell you. The midwife says there’s a risk of premature birth. Apparently, it’s due to a severe emotional shock.”

So, it had been Elodie in the pale-yellow dress. Whatever Edgar had said to her that day must have made her faint—and now, her health was suffering because of it.

“Then why did you bring her? And how did you even know Edgar would show up?”

“I had one of the maids followed. The day Lady Isabel sent the luncheon invitations, that maid began acting suspiciously. Maids who do general chores are often reassigned between houses, so it wasn’t unusual for one to move from the Linton estate to Countess Rosette’s. But continuing to visit her old workplace? That raised red flags.”

Sarah wasn’t just any maid—she was my personal maid. It seemed Countess Rosette hadn’t kept her promise to treat Sarah properly.

“Sure enough, on the day of the luncheon, that maid rushed off to the Linton estate. Then a rental carriage came and left soon after—headed straight for the marquess’s estate. My spy reported it to me immediately, and I figured it was the perfect moment to show Elodie who Edgar Linton really was.”

Ricardo paused for a moment, then added something more.

“If that man had tried to threaten you, I was planning to show up by coincidence and step in…”

“Thanks to Margaret, I was able to handle it on my own.”

Ricardo muttered that it was fortunate Margaret had been there, though his voice was strained.

“Premature birth puts both the mother and child at serious risk.”

I had weighed Elodie’s life against that of the unborn child. It was a horrific thing to do—morally and ethically—but I hadn’t had much of a choice.

What troubled me more was that I barely felt guilty about it. That was my limit—forever envying humans, yet never truly becoming one of them.

“If the baby comes early, you must prioritize Miss Elodie’s life.”

After what happened, Elodie must surely resent Edgar. If she also lost her child because of him, her grief would quickly turn into vengeance—and in that case, she would have no reason not to take my side.

“I’ve already made that clear,” Ricardo said, as if it were no big deal. He didn’t seem troubled at all by what Elodie must be going through.

I suddenly grew curious. Ricardo was still, by most measures, more human than I was.

He denied it adamantly, but if I had to define him, I’d say he was something very close to human.

“Don’t you feel sorry for Miss Elodie?”

At my question, Ricardo let out a bitter laugh.

“Not at all.”

His answer was colder than I expected.

“She started seeing the Earl of Linton after he was already married. She chose to love a man who had a wife. In the early stages of her pregnancy, she could’ve ended it—but she chose not to. She even kept the child a secret from Edgar himself. What do you think her reason was?”

I had assumed Elodie had simply been scared. Maybe she didn’t trust Edgar enough.

But Ricardo was hinting at something more calculated.

“Elodie knew. She knew you hadn’t shared a bed with the Earl of Linton, even as you slowly built your social circle. It wasn’t a difficult guess—he was visiting her every other day.”

“She was hoping I’d accept the child, wasn’t she?”

There was no way Elodie could become Countess of Linton unless she were born again.

Maybe I should credit her for not foolishly expecting Edgar to defy his family’s legacy just to marry her.

More likely, she figured that if she gave birth to a son before I did, Edgar might waver.

Though Edgar had firmly stated that what the family needed was a legitimate heir from me, we hadn’t even spent a wedding night together.

According to Cecilia’s diary, Edgar had insisted from the very beginning that a husband and wife should observe propriety—and had chosen to sleep in a separate room.

So between a wife he’d never touched and a woman bearing his son, Elodie probably thought that while she might not win Edgar, the child might.

“If she calculated that far, she shouldn’t have been shocked enough to faint.”

What I didn’t understand was why Elodie had fainted. When I pointed that out, Ricardo gently traced the rim of his teacup with his fingers.

“People’s emotions don’t always follow their plans.”

His voice held a quiet bitterness. I suddenly realized how closely Elodie’s situation mirrored Ricardo’s own.

His birth mother had also approached Duke Bastian, knowing full well he was married.

She’d hidden Ricardo’s existence until after he was born—and only spoke up about his origin once he was old enough to understand.

Duke Bastian had never fathered a child until Ricardo came along. He, like any noble, couldn’t allow his bloodline to end.

There had been the option of adopting a child from a branch of the family, but the duchess herself had opposed that idea. She insisted on bringing in a bastard with the Duke’s blood instead.

I didn’t know every detail of the situation in the Bastian family, but I could imagine why the duchess made that choice. She had likely been insulted or looked down on by those branches because she hadn’t been able to bear a child herself.

And so, Ricardo became a target of resentment from both the main and collateral branches of the family.

The Duke forbade him from stepping foot inside the duchy estate until his death.

Even I, who rarely left the house, had heard all the rumors about Ricardo’s past. People gossiped freely, never bothering to consider the impact.

“Ricardo.”

Calmly, I reached out and placed my hand over the back of his.

“Miss Elodie is not your mother. And her child is not you.”

I had made the decision about Elodie’s fate without a shred of sympathy. Yet strangely, Ricardo’s quiet sadness lingered in my mind.

“Everyone is different. Just because someone goes through something similar doesn’t mean they’re the same kind of person.”

Ricardo stared blankly at my hand resting over his, then slowly lifted his gaze.

“…Yeah.”

He answered softly.

“I’m just glad you didn’t end up like the Duchess.”

In his voice, I heard a deep and lingering sense of guilt—toward the duchess who had once insisted on his place in the family.

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