I Don't Want To Be Loved

Chapter 75: Can’t Fool Me Twice

The Duchess, Mrs. Cesley, gave Rihannan a proper answer right away and said, “She’s resting in peace. Queen, after you left for Chricton, Her Majesty retired from politics not long after. A few years ago, she moved to Burke Castle. Her Majesty thought the palace too… messy. So, it is as the king said. You need not worry too much about her, My Queen.”

“…It sounds like King Igor drove her out.”

The Duchess stopped for a moment – Rihannan too.

The Duchess, who looked around the age of forty, was a woman of mature and gentle beauty, but she did not look glum by any means. Her dark gray eyes glittered and showed unfathomable depth that seemed like it could see through all of Rihannan’s thoughts. Her eyes glazed with mature age, a clear juxtaposition of a young girl who longed to break free.

But Rihannan’s question prior ago caught her off guard, embarrassed her even.

When Rihannan lived in Chricton, she inherited a few traits from Helena. The princess often threw wicked people off guard with questions of surprise. It showed their true colors. She’d ask sudden questions when she encountered new people. As Helena lived in a palace full of men and women with malicious thoughts and selfish ambition, she grew up fast and learned to differentiate people’s true intention or their hidden selves while unprepared.

Helena had used this method on Rihannan once. She had ordered the silver-haired girl to work on low-level menial work. Helena tested her, curious to know whether Rihannan had a strong ego of rebelliousness or was a dog that followed her master’s orders faithfully.

But Rihannan had done something out of the tradition Helena grew used to. Under the princess’ commands, Rihannan combed her hair and said, “Princess, are you curious about who I am?”

Her questioning satisfied Helena, and from then on, she became attached to the silver-haired girl.

Rihannan wondered what Igor thought of the Duchess he sent to her.

She knew the Duchess was ever faithful to Igor’s commands, though that mattered not. The answer she sought to know was if Igor was trying to control her from the sidelines.

Long ago, she’d been imprisoned, deemed a criminal, a spy for exchanging letters with Dimitri. Piles of evidence were strewn together incidentally and separate conclusive evidence of espionage handed to the royal family.

There, too, existed letters full of secrets between Arundell and Chrichton that were found along with her personal letters. It was not hand-written, but printed on woodblock print, so the handwriting was never revealed. However, woodblock print was used for official purposes by Arundell and thus the circumstances of the woodblock print traveling between two countries became certain.

The letters that had been found in her private stash became conclusive proof of her

crimes

.

But to Rihannan, it was the first she’d seen of them. She had never exchanged letters with anyone in Chrichton other than Dimitri. She surmised someone had intentionally placed those letters in her secret stash, and so she had no choice but to suspect the Maid of Honor was involved in the affair. She always had a key with her and Rihannan was unsure how she became involved with the matters. Maybe she was Leticia’s dog or she herself approached Rihannan with impure purpose from the very beginning.

Rihannan vowed that she’d never again repeat that cycle. This time she’ll grasp the knowledge she never had and examine the kind of people who stood next to her. No matter how perfect a person may appear, their true self was bound to show in unexpected situations.

This was what Rihannan hoped for.

“Ha…” The duchess swiftly covered her mouth and laughed lightly. Then she bowed her head. “Oh… I’m sorry, My Queen. I made a big mistake…”

“No, it’s alright. I’m no Queen right now, so there’s no need to be formal,” Rihannan replied coolly.

She remembered the ladies-in-waiting’s ridicule and deliberately giggling and whispering menacing words in her back or close to her so she could hear… those voices of wicked laughter remained vivid and now there was nothing that could hurt her.

A lifetime of sorrow had given her strength, but it did not mean that she was immune.