No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 96

From that moment on, everything unfolded like clockwork.

Elodie brought the midwife who had delivered her baby, and the woman testified that the child had been a fully formed boy.

Technically, it wasn’t a formal testimony—neither Elodie nor the midwife had entered the courtroom. Like Elodie, the midwife stood just beyond the threshold and gave her account from there.

“Yes, I was the one who delivered the baby. It was a boy. Miss Elodie was a perfectly healthy mother. I’ve worked as a midwife for 18 years, I know what I’m saying. But after she met with the baby’s father, her condition deteriorated rapidly.”

The elderly midwife spoke with a slight slur—her teeth no longer whole.

The courtroom and the crowd fell completely silent in the wake of her shocking confession, making her every word painfully clear.

“Elodie was devastated. Before meeting the father, she had truly believed that as long as the child was born, at least the baby would be accepted. That was all she wanted. At the time, I didn’t know she was Count Linton’s mistress. I just thought she had been taken advantage of by some awful man.”

There was no doubt in my mind—Ricardo had orchestrated this. The midwife spoke like a parrot trained on his words.

“When the time came, Elodie begged me to save the child, no matter what. In all my years, I’ve never seen a birth as heartbreaking. One moment she pleaded for the baby’s life, and the next, she cried that a child denied even by its father had no future to live for.”

I turned to look at Edgar. He hadn’t even suspected that Elodie might have been pregnant. Though he tried to remain composed upon hearing the baby had died, his mask cracked the moment he heard it was a boy.

“I… I didn’t know,” he croaked, as if someone were strangling him.

“You did know, Count Linton!” Elodie’s scream drowned out his feeble excuse.

“You called me there because you wanted me to lose the baby! And I—I was such a fool. I thought you still cared. I thought there was still something between us. I ran to you, thinking there was still love!”

“Where exactly is ‘there’?” the judge called out, having to raise his voice since Elodie remained outside.

“Marchioness Federica’s estate,” Elodie replied. “I’d heard Lady Linton was staying there to recover, so I’d been living quietly nearby, never daring to look in that direction. But Count Linton sent for me. He said it was my last chance—that he would tell Lady Linton about the pregnancy and convince her to accept the baby.”

“That’s a lie! She ran off without saying a word! She stole everything of value from the house I gave her!”

Finally, Edgar stepped right into the mud.

He left the defendant’s bench and stormed toward the doorway, pointing a shaking finger at Elodie.

“Wicked woman! So this was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Hiding your pregnancy—trying to tear me and my wife apart! Cecilia, don’t listen to her! Everything I said to you back then, it was the honest truth!”

The thing was—I didn’t remember most of what he’d said back then.

Ricardo, reading my expression, silently slid me a folded piece of paper.

On it were Edgar’s exact words, meticulously recorded.

He’d said Elodie was attractive and talented, yes—but just a fleeting amusement. That only a son born through me could inherit the Linton name.

His remarks had been copied in neat, elegant handwriting—Ricardo’s, no doubt.

From a distance, it almost looked like refined prose.

But even after reading just the first paragraph, the illusion crumbled. My only real thought was, Ricardo really does have beautiful penmanship.

“If that was truly your heart, Edgar,” I said calmly, using Ricardo’s notes as a base, “then you’ve killed Elodie twice.”

“You called a pregnant woman to see you,” I went on, “and then you told me that you wanted a son. That the Linton heir could only come through me. According to the midwife’s testimony, Elodie was even willing to give up the child—if only the baby could be accepted into House Linton. But you shattered even that pitiful hope.”

It had been Ricardo who brought Elodie to Marchioness Federica’s estate—but I carefully left that part out.

Everything else I said was true. I had hidden part of the truth, yes—but I hadn’t told a single lie.

“I may be a sinner to Lady Linton,” Elodie said softly, “but I am also a victim of Count Linton.”

She was performing even better than I’d anticipated.

Despite being unaware of the full truth, she had instinctively aimed her anger in exactly the right direction.

And the crowd wasted no time echoing her outrage—hurling jeers at Edgar as soon as her words ended.

For a man like Edgar, who prized reputation above all else, it was the worst humiliation imaginable.

He looked as if he might slam the doors and leave Elodie outside, just to pretend none of this had happened.

“What is it that you seek, Miss Elodie?”
The judge wiped sweat from his brow, caught between the growing crowd and the Queen’s sharp gaze urging him to end this quickly.

“What a monster!”
“Do nobles get away with murder now?”
“Compensate Elodie for everything she’s lost!”

Elodie’s performances had never been reserved for nobles alone. Her fans knew that she insisted on selling tickets fairly.
She had even pushed for first-come-first-served entry—a stubborn ideal that had once made headlines.

Middle-class townspeople, who often romanticized the upper class, found that attending Elodie’s performances was more than just entertainment. It was an experience, a fantasy come to life.

And now those fans—disguised as spectators—had turned into an angry mob, cursing Edgar with growing fervor.

I spotted one of the Queen’s attendants near the guards.
Up in the elevated viewing gallery, the Queen herself looked down at the scene with a glint of wicked amusement in her eyes.

Our eyes met. She waved her handkerchief lightly.
The meaning was obvious: Now’s the time to cry.

Too bad my face was embarrassingly dry.

“I came here only to apologize to Lady Linton,” Elodie said, staggering to her feet.
The midwife helped her up, which only added to the poignancy of the moment.

“She was always kind to me—even when I’d done nothing to deserve it. I committed a sin against her, but I found the courage to come here because I believe her life should not remain shackled to a man like that.”

The judge nodded, eyes shimmering.
Unlike me—who couldn’t squeeze out a tear—he was openly moved. He sniffled as he raised his handkerchief to his nose.

Perhaps it wasn’t just her bravery that touched him, but the fact that it had helped finally bury Edgar.
Regardless, the judge was clearly stirred—and he let everyone see it.

Even among the crowd, some were quietly weeping.

Elodie had not only destroyed Edgar—she’d also redeemed herself.

“Elodie is a victim too!”
“Her beautiful voice was ruined—Linton should pay for her entire future!”
“May God bless Lady Linton—look how she still worries for her husband’s mistress!”

…Okay, that was a bit much.
Elodie’s revenge was justified, but I didn’t need to be wrapped into it as some kind of holy figure.

At last, the judge raised his gavel.

“Count Edgar Linton is found guilty of oppressing and abusing Lady Rosette, betraying the sanctity of their union, and unlawfully seizing her dowry. These acts alone are severe in nature.
Furthermore, he is guilty of luring an innocent woman into devastating harm under false pretenses.”

Edgar looked around in a daze—at Elodie, at me, at the judge, at the crowd.

“What credibility does a theater singer have?!” he shouted.
“Cecilia is Countess Linton! Without that title, she’s nothing! As her mother, I can’t accept this! She has to remain Lady Linton until the day she dies!”

Rosette’s desperate scream echoed across the courtroom.

The crowd scoffed.
What kind of mother leaves her daughter in hell and calls it love?

They could tell, as I could, that Rosette had never truly thought of Cecilia as her daughter. She wouldn’t have blinked to watch her burn.

“The marriage is hereby dissolved. Count Linton is ordered to pay full restitution to Lady Rosette, including the dowry and additional compensation.
Miss Elodie shall also receive due reparation—the terms of which will be announced in a formal statement.”

The judge had to nearly shout to make his voice rise above Rosette’s.

Bang. Bang. Bang.
The gavel fell three times.

“No! No! Cecilia, beg him—please beg!” Rosette cried, falling apart.
“Count Linton forgave you! You’re just scared—scared he’ll never look at you again! But you love him, don’t you? You said you couldn’t sleep, eat, or even breathe without him! So beg! Please, Cecilia, beg!”

I watched Edgar and Rosette’s final performance with a faint sense of disbelief.
They were clever.

It was honestly impressive that they’d managed to dig up Cecilia’s medical records in such a short time.

But power was greater than cleverness.

Had I not earned the Marchioness’s favor—had I never caught the Queen’s eye—
Had Ricardo not been madly devoted to me, making himself useful to the Queen—
Victory would have been theirs.

Now, Rosette was busy trying to sneak Isla out before the crowd caught wind of her.
I heard her whisper, pushing her protesting daughter toward the back door, telling her to crawl if she had to.

“Count, say you love her—say it now!” Rosette urged Edgar, who sat slumped, lifeless.
“She’s waited her whole life for those words! It’s not too late! Say you’ll be her only family—just say it!”

I caught Edgar’s dazed eyes on me.
Silently, I tilted my head toward the Queen.

And finally, he understood.
The outcome had been decided long before any of this began.

“Thank you… for giving me back what was mine,” I mouthed.

His face twisted into something grotesque.

“My lady!”

Martha leapt down from the witness stand and threw her arms around me.
Her wrinkled hands patted my back over and over.

“It’s over now, my lady. It’s all over.”

Behind her, Justin wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.

Ricardo, as if to remind everyone that he was only the one who started this, respectfully stepped back a few paces.

I watched Elodie bow her head lightly, then disappear into the crowd.

It really was over.
Strangely empty.

The kind of ending where I had done… almost nothing.

I hadn’t even managed to cry—the one thing the Queen had actually asked me to do.

Outside, the crowd erupted in cheers over what they called a just verdict.
They prayed for blessings on my future and shouted their hopes for Elodie’s return to the stage.

I walked past Edgar, still collapsed on the courtroom floor, and approached the Queen.

From her side, I looked down at him.
And from up here, the mighty Linton name he clung to so desperately looked impossibly small.

“Shall we go?” the Queen asked.

I nodded and followed her.

As her lady-in-waiting.

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