Chapter 11
“Rumors?”
I asked, pretending to be puzzled. Countess Rosette hesitated slightly, her lips parting as if uncertain.
“I know how much you’ve suffered because of the Earl of Linton. No one understands it better than I do.”
She let out a soft sigh.
“People are saying you’re trying to get revenge on him by associating with the Bastian Duke’s illegitimate son.”
I blinked slowly.
“You mean Lord Ricardo?”
“Yes. Even if he’s the heir to the Bastian Dukedom, his origins can’t be changed. Cecilia, people are only saying this because they care about you. That man… he’s not someone like us should be involved with.”
I had only met Ricardo for half a day—and even then, Edgar and Elodie had been there too.
“I don’t really know Lord Ricardo.”
I didn’t defend him.
“I just happened to run into him while I was out getting fitted for a dress. Edgar was there as well.”
“The Earl of Linton, too?”
The Countess widened her eyes in feigned surprise.
“Then people must’ve misunderstood what they saw. It wasn’t just you and him.”
At that moment, Isla cut in.
“But I heard there was someone else there too?”
“Isla!”
The Countess called her sharply.
“Mother, Sister deserves to know. They said a theater actress was there too. Who’s to say the Earl didn’t use the Bastian heir to distract her, so he could sneak around with his lover?”
Their coordination was perfect.
If I had really been Cecilia, their words might’ve left me broken—maybe even fainted from the pain.
But I wasn’t Cecilia. Their words had no effect on me.
“That’s not it, Isla.”
I answered plainly.
“Edgar wanted to introduce Elodie to me. I asked her to sing at the banquet.”
Isla turned to look at her mother.
“They say Elodie’s voice is like something from heaven. You and Isla should come enjoy the performance.”
Countess Rosette was a more experienced actress than her daughter.
She dabbed the corner of her eye with a handkerchief, masking the twitch at the corner of her mouth.
“Of course. We’ll be there.”
Isla, less practiced, pouted openly, her displeasure showing clearly.
The conversation wrapped up, and I left the Rosette estate in one piece. It felt like escaping a dungeon of passive-aggression.
I also received a list of gardener recommendations. For a moment, I wondered if she’d slipped in someone unfit out of spite.
But the Countess didn’t seem the type to risk her reputation over petty tricks—not like Isla might.
“My Lady.”
Sir Juan approached as we prepared to leave.
“There’s been a disturbance near the main road. We’ll need to take a short detour, if that’s alright with you.”
This middle-aged knight was observant. He must’ve sensed my mood wasn’t great and was offering a scenic distraction.
Maybe there really was something on the road—but even so, our carriage bore the Linton crest. With that kind of status, others would normally clear the way for us.
Drawing from the scraps of cultural knowledge I had, I remembered how in films, nobles often asserted their status in such subtle ways.
“I heard a bard is performing in the square. If we’re lucky, we might catch a song or two.”
Exactly as I thought. He was trying to lift my spirits.
“That sounds lovely. I’ve never seen a bard perform live before.”
“You two should head back to the estate first,” he told Sarah and the nanny.
“What? Why?”
Sarah, who’d perked up at the mention of a bard, looked horrified.
“You can’t just let the Countess walk around the square alone!”
The nanny protested just as fiercely.
“Why would she be alone when I’m right here? Don’t worry. You both have housework waiting.”
When a knight brings up housework, it tends to shut down arguments.
Sarah and the nanny scowled at his logic.
“Go on, both of you,” I said, stepping in before it dragged on.
“My Lady!”
“Miss!”
Their voices rose in protest at once.
Sir Juan probably remembered how noisy the carriage had been earlier.
He had offered this detour as a kindness, but if I brought those two along, it would defeat the purpose entirely.
And frankly, I had to agree with him.
Sarah and the nanny weren’t bad separately—but together, they were chaos. When left alone, each was tolerable. But when paired, they constantly contradicted, argued, and undermined one another, leaving no room for peace.
“Nanny, please tell Justin that a new gardener will be coming soon. Sarah, I’d like you to organize my wardrobe.”
“The wardrobe?”
“We’ll be getting the newly tailored dresses soon. The old ones are just taking up space. Take a look and handle it however you see fit.”
The nanny, by securing a future for her son, and Sarah, by gaining a chance to access valuable clothing, were both handed quiet rewards that would keep their complaints at bay.
Satisfied, they boarded the rented carriage that Sir Juan had arranged and returned home ahead of us.
“Shall we go?”
Sir Juan took the reins himself, and we headed toward the town square.
I leaned my head against the window in silence.
I shouldn’t expect any help from Edgar with the banquet preparations.
And yet, organizing everything alone wasn’t easy, especially in a world I barely understood.
Wouldn’t it be nice if someone extended a hand—even for something small and simple?
I let out a dry, bitter smile.
As long as my soul resided in Cecilia’s body, such kindness was out of reach.
I’d always been someone people instinctively avoided—an unsettling presence.
Those who approached me, unaware, would pull away once they saw the truth.
Maybe if I hadn’t been me, Sarah and the nanny wouldn’t be so at odds either.
What would the real Cecilia have done?
The Cecilia untainted by the rot of love and betrayal likely would’ve been far more beloved than I am.
Lost in these grim thoughts, I didn’t realize the carriage had stopped.
“We’ve arrived.”
Sir Juan opened the door and extended his hand.
Unlike Pascal, he didn’t kneel, and when offering his hand, he did so with the back of his hand facing up—an intentional gesture, likely reflecting proper etiquette.
It somehow felt correct.
Looking around, I saw no sign of a bard.
I turned to Juan.
“Is the bard here?”
“They don’t like to stay in one spot for long,” he replied calmly.
“If you’d like, we can walk around and see if we find them?”
His voice was courteous, and I nodded.
There was something comfortably professional about his demeanor.
He wasn’t doing this for me. He was simply fulfilling his role as a knight.
And that distance made me feel safe.
The square was quiet.
Had Sarah been here, she’d have scolded me for walking around on my own like a commoner.
But Sir Juan simply offered me his arm and stayed silent as I glanced around, not once criticizing or hurrying me.
“Still no sign of the bard.”
We had walked halfway around the large square, but no luck.
I was stretching my neck to see if I’d missed something—when I came face to face with someone I wasn’t hoping to see.
“Countess of Linton.”
“Lord Ricardo.”
It was him.
Even without his tall stature, Ricardo would have been hard to miss. He was a striking figure.
With his jet-black hair and golden eyes—an uncommon combination—he stood out like a painting in motion.
As usual, he was dressed head-to-toe in black, as if straight from a funeral.
“Out to see the bard, Countess?”
Which meant… he had also come to see the bard.
It was almost comical, how someone with such a cold, logical face could talk about bards.
“Same as you, my lord.”
“Ah. But I came to see you.”
Ricardo shattered my assumption without hesitation.
I hadn’t planned to come here today.
It was only because of Sir Juan’s sudden suggestion.
Should I be suspicious of Juan?
That didn’t make sense. He was Edgar’s man.
And Edgar had made it crystal clear that if I wanted revenge, Ricardo was the one person I shouldn’t get involved with.
“Would you believe me if I said I wandered out early this morning just to make this ‘accidental’ meeting happen?”
I shook my head.
Ricardo laughed.
“The truth is rarely easy to accept.”
“Surely you had other business?”
“No, not really.”
He dismissed the idea casually.
“What would a bastard like me have to do?”
I quickly lowered my gaze, hiding the frown on my face.
I hated hearing self-deprecating remarks from others—maybe because I already did enough of that on my own.
I didn’t feel pity. I didn’t have room for it.
“Unfortunately, the bard found a wealthy patron and ditched the square for a better-paying gig.”
Ricardo leaned down slightly, lowering his voice to match mine.
“If you really want, I could call him back for you.”
So the wealthy patron… was Ricardo himself.
I had secretly been looking forward to seeing the bard, so his absence was a small disappointment.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely, looking up at him.
His golden eyes blinked, surprised.
I added,
“But I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”
Ricardo shrugged, as if expecting that answer.
“And if it’s no trouble at all?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m lonely. Or to put it plainly—bored. I could really use a friend.”
Friend.
A word that never seemed to belong to me.
“I’m hardly qualified to be your friend, Lord Ricardo.”
“On the contrary, Countess, I think you’re the perfect candidate.”
He lifted one finger at a time, counting his reasons aloud.
“First, you don’t see me as the Bastian heir. Second, you also don’t find me disgusting just because I’m illegitimate. And third—”
He paused, then grinned.
It was the kind of mischievous smile a boy wears right before causing trouble.
“Don’t you want to get revenge on the Earl of Linton?”
