No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 85

As Lady Lorraine had said, the Queen’s daily routine wasn’t exactly busy. Her power was insignificant, and the authority she was allowed to exercise was even smaller.

I lived more idly now than I had as the Countess of Linton. The Queen’s palace was never short on people, but most were servants and maids.

The structure ran smoothly; by dawn, the clatter of staff beginning their day echoed through the halls. I rose late, dressed with the help of the maid assigned to me, and made my way to the Queen’s private quarters.

That was my version of “reporting to work.” Our primary discussion lately had been the debutante ball—its concept, its timing.

“Who was the party planner you mentioned again?” the Queen asked, clearly uninterested in pouring her efforts into the event.

“Madame Penelope, Your Majesty. But… she’s a commoner, so I’m not sure she’ll be allowed into the palace…”

At my careful suggestion, the Queen frowned.

Though she was the official mistress of her residence, the true guardian of national protocol was the King.

“I’ll have to ask His Majesty.”

She sounded wounded in her pride. Rightfully so. The Queen should be the one overseeing events like the debutante ball. Yet here she was, needing the King’s permission even for something as trivial as selecting a party planner.

“I didn’t become Queen just to plan one silly debutante ball a year. Isn’t it pathetic, Cecilia?”

When I’d served as a companion to Marchioness Federica, I had read about queens in history who ruled the country alongside their kings.

There had been pros and cons. A united royal couple led to a strong monarchy—less room for ministers to interfere when power was equally shared.

But problems always began once the crown prince was born. The queen’s family would support the heir, whose blood they shared, over the king to whom they were only bound by marriage.

Even loving couples drifted apart. Queens couldn’t easily choose between abandoning their own families or opposing their husbands.

Perhaps the current King had studied such histories and vowed never to let his queen’s influence grow strong.

“Send word to the palace that I request an audience with His Majesty. He may not grant it, but it’s worth trying.”

The Queen’s voice was laced with sarcasm. I nodded and said I would send the head chamberlain. She acknowledged the decision with a nod—recognizing it as the proper procedure, respectful of status.

“I know what His Majesty fears. But all that’s left of my family now is my grandmother. And yet, he still tightens the reins like this. It’s excessive.”

It was true. By marrying a granddaughter of the Federica family, the King had already achieved what he wanted.

There was no need to restrict the Queen’s authority to something as trivial as organizing a debutante ball.

“People consumed by anxiety for too long often struggle to think rationally,” I offered.

The Queen raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“His Majesty is shrewd. I’m sure he had moments when he could have recovered, but I suspect there were whispers that encouraged him to tighten his grip instead.”

I played innocent, pretending not to know what Ricardo had told me—that the King’s mistress was pregnant. The Queen let out a cold, bitter laugh.

“Opportunists are everywhere. Clever ones, too. You’ve come this far, Cecilia—go ahead. Who do you think is driving the wedge between His Majesty and me?”

At her suggestion that I had already spoken out of line, I chose my next words more carefully.

“The Earl of Linton took a lover right after we married, Your Majesty. I once clung to him, begging him to give our marriage a real chance. But I couldn’t compete with her.”

Telling a personal story—rather than speaking directly of the King—couldn’t be considered disrespectful.

“Later, I realized her secret. She never said anything he didn’t want to hear. She idolized him. And he fed his pride off her adoration.”

I let my expression soften with regret.

“Not all men are like that, but the Earl of Linton didn’t want a wife. He needed a worshipper. I learned that far too late.”

The Queen looked almost dumbfounded.

“I didn’t think the Earl of Linton was such a fool.”

“The irony is, he never considered marrying her. For the honor of the Linton family, his wife had to be of equal rank. He kept me to maintain his family’s standing, and used her to satisfy his personal desires.”

The Queen understood the deeper meaning behind my words. The King was doing the same thing.

He’d chosen a noblewoman of minor status for the throne, not because he loved her, but because she was nobility and wouldn’t worship him.

His mistress, while not a commoner, was likely from a fallen noble line. To a man parched for affection, her devotion was like holy water.

And what began as a drop had turned into a thirst for an entire reservoir.

“Idiotic man.”

The Queen pretended to insult the Earl of Linton, but her true aim was the King’s intelligence.

“Indeed. If not for Your Majesty, I’d still be a withered flower in the Earl’s house, living in quiet misery. I am deeply grateful for your grace.”

It was the perfect moment—while soothing her pride, I also aired my own grievances.

“Enough. He’s not even worth mentioning anymore. You’re under my protection now. The Earl of Linton won’t dare act carelessly again.”

I made a plan to attach another woman to Edgar. The Queen, though unable to confront the King’s mistress, still had enough standing to reprimand the immoral behavior of an earl.

If I introduced Elodie once Edgar was fully involved with someone else, it would be more than enough to shatter his wholesome image and paint him as a shameless womanizer.

“So,” the Queen said, abruptly changing the subject. “Is that why Ricardo suddenly looked like a different man to you?”

Of all things, she had to bring up Ricardo.

“Lord Ricardo is… kind,” I replied carefully, avoiding her gaze as I pretended to focus on the blueprint of the ballroom where the debutante ball would be held.

“Kind? That man?” she scoffed. “He’s the type you can never truly read. On the surface, he tries to act decent, but in the end, he cast aside his own mother to become part of the Duke’s household. A foolish man can be tolerated, but someone without genuine affection? Never trust a person like that, Lia.”

I had thought the Queen held some fondness for Ricardo, so her cold, cutting assessment surprised me.

“He seems quite devoted to you,” she added. “But you know how it is—Edgar didn’t treat you poorly either, not until Count Rosette passed away.”

I understood her message. This was her way of warning me. Ricardo had made promises—wild ones—to earn the Queen’s support and ensure my protection.

Just as she misunderstood Ricardo, Ricardo also misunderstood her. He once told me he believed she saw him as a last hope, something to hold onto.

But the way she acted around him told a different story. She didn’t treat him like a lifeline.

She treated him like something disposable.

“At first, I thought it was funny watching him try so hard. But now it’s just ridiculous,” she said. “He’s been requesting audiences almost every day since the moment you arrived, Lia.”

I steadied my breath. My lips twitched slightly—I wasn’t sure if I was about to smile… or cry.

“The Earl of Linton is nowhere to be found, yet the bastard son of House Bastian is chasing after you?”

She followed my eyes and traced over the blueprint with her finger.

“I want you to live differently.”

I heard the unspoken words—“Differently than me.” It reminded me of something I had heard not long ago.

Ricardo, too, had said he was glad I wasn’t following the same path as the Duchess of Bastian.

Feeling people’s expectations pressing down on me made it hard to breathe. I placed a hand over my chest and pressed down, as if that might ease the weight.

“Lia?”

“It’s nothing, Your Majesty. Just an old condition.”

Claiming a chronic illness was always useful at times like this.

“Then go on. I’ll send word to His Majesty. You may rest until I call for you.”

With the Queen’s permission, I left her office. I asked the attendant waiting outside to bring the chamberlain to my room.

Thanks to my efforts to memorize the layout, I made my way through the palace without losing my way.

“Ah…”

That’s when I stumbled upon a small courtyard I hadn’t noticed before. I’d been so focused on getting used to the palace—memorizing the halls instead of looking out the windows—that I had completely overlooked this space.

The chamberlain was the busiest man in the Queen’s household. It would take at least twenty minutes for the servant to find him. I hesitated, then stepped into the courtyard.

It was clearly neglected. In a palace where every corner was carefully tended, this place was full of waist-high weeds and overgrowth.

I walked further in, following my feet without much thought, until I came upon a wall.

It looked like it led outside the Queen’s wing. The wall wasn’t very thick—through it, I could hear the faint sounds of people talking.

I glanced around, then sat down on a moss-covered stone.

“You shouldn’t sit like that, Lia. The cold will get to you.”

I jumped at the sound of a voice I shouldn’t have heard.

“Ricardo?”

He smiled brightly, looking genuinely happy to see me. His face lit up with warmth. I, on the other hand, could only stare in disbelief. The Queen had just told me he’d been denied an audience.

“How did you even get here?”

“There’s a dog hole,” he said with complete seriousness.

“A… dog hole?”

“Yes. A dog hole.”

“In the Queen’s palace?”

“In the palace of a Queen who isn’t respected.”

He reached out his hand as if to show me the way, but I shook my head when I saw the mud covering the hem of his pants.

“So let me get this straight. You crawled through a hole in the wall, covered yourself in mud, and broke into the Queen’s palace just to see me. Is that it, Ricardo?”

He grinned.

“So you finally admit that I’m the only one you care about.”

I stared at the man the Queen had warned me about—someone she said lacked real affection. And yet here he was, standing before me with mud-soaked pants, looking anything but indifferent.

He wasn’t cold. He wasn’t calculated. He was nervous and overjoyed, stumbling like an awkward boy who didn’t know what to do with himself.

My lips trembled again—just like they had in front of the Queen.

But this time, I didn’t resist.

My lips curved into a clear, unmistakable smile.

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