I Don't Want to Be Loved

Chapter 63 Igor Cesca (Perspective)

Chapter 63: Igor Cesca (Perspective)

My wife doesn’t love me.

This was the only thing I know.

***

“Your Majesty, where are you? Your Majesty, the Queen is looking for you.”

The servant was looking for me. I had no intention to be seen and so, I hid behind the tall pillars and kept quiet. Troublesome and uncomfortable things awaits me, this I know well.

“Your Majesty! Oh… Your Majesty! I know you’re listening to me. Your Majesty…!”

Watching the servant’s movement, I slowly walked toward the opposite direction and arrived in the deserted garden. I laid there, resting, for the time being, hoping to avoid that slow-witted but determined servant.

I sighed and looked up the blue sky, staring relentlessly at the glaring sun and the drifting clouds. But as somber thoughts came to mind, I covered my eyes with my arms and bit my lips tightly.

“The throne was originally mine.”

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Mother used to hold onto me… I’d sit on her lap while she whispered words I never understood. Each time she said those words, the guilt that I’d taken away her throne haunted me.

“So you have to listen to me. Understand, Igor?”

I’d nod obediently. Mother was next in line to the throne, but through mishaps, she was forced to sacrifice her throne to her cousin, Duke of Lancas. I loved mother and I sympathized with her pitiable circumstances.

I owe my life to my mother. I was made king because of her. She had sacrificed her wants, her purpose, her dreams so I could live. I’d have given her the world, anything she wanted. I would. I had no plans to exclude her from politics long after I became old enough to rule the country. I would share the kingdom with the mother who made me king.

I loved my mother.

But…

When I had fallen ill, my life gravely hovering between life and death, I learned something I wish I’d never known. I wish I could have remained ignorant of it… maybe things would be different. Drowning in a nightmare, I awoke in the middle of the night with thoughts to see mother. In that room was the silhouette of mother and her close associate, Prince Rosan. It was improper of me to listen in on their conversation…

“I’ll need to get Igor married as soon as possible.”

“Your Majesty? Isn’t he too young for marriage? Why all of a sudden…?”

“Did you not see? My son had almost died from sickness. What do you think will happen to the throne after his death?”

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“…..It’ll fall in the hands of the late king’s progenitor.”

I was sure Prince Rosan was referring to the late Duke of Lancas’ progenitor. Yes… should something happen to me… the throne will end up in their lap.

“That’s why Igor is to marry as soon as possible and bear a child. They’re spying on me. You need to be prepared in case things turn upside down, otherwise, our power will end up in their hands.”

My eyes widened at the sudden realization that I was nothing but a tool, a means to an end for my mother. I was not her precious child, but a thing that could be thrown away as she sees fit.

“Then… who do you have in mind?”

“One of ours.”

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“You mean?”

“Anastasia’s little daughter.”

“Countess Allessin’s daughter?”

“Yes. She’s my goddaughter. I’ll need to ask Anastasia to spend time in the palace with her daughter one day. I’ll have her and Igor meet. They’ll form a relationship, an affection, and then marry.”

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My heart ached. I turned around and ran away, tears pouring down my face. Mother intended to sell me off to a girl I do not know and bear a child with her…? I know now that mother never regarded me as her son, but a livestock that could benefit her.

And from that moment on, I began to avoid her. The boy who always listened to her, always filial, always obedient, was no more. I’d skip classes she set up… anything to get away from her, and anything that she was involved in. I wanted nothing to do with her.

I acted up. I grew up a troublesome boy. People thought it was puberty… but I became obsessed with the thought of causing her distress… my own mother… I felt betrayed.

Why couldn’t we have a proper relationship? Was it because she was a princess? Because her throne was unjustly taken away? Or because I was made king, not her? If I did not have this kingly title and she was no royal, would we be able to live happily as mother and son?

I thought about these things as I laid in the grass. I realized too late that a droplet of tear fell. I was crying…? I wiped it away with my sleeves. No, I should get rid of these feelings.

My life wasn’t worth anything. I was a puppet, a tool tied to mother’s whimsical thoughts. My fate was in her hands. I’ll marry a woman I do not love, bear a child I do not want and live the life of a dead man.

This was my fate.

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