158 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper
Shattered Glass Slipper Shards Episode 158
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Several months had passed since then. Out of sight, out of mind, they say, but despite not seeing even a shadow of Cishe de Bishwaltz during that time, his heart had only grown deeper. Like a lush, verdant forest.
At the same time, he felt a growing anxiety that he was merely imitating his brother, and that his true nature was subtly revealing itself. His mind vacillated several times a day, causing him to become increasingly impatient. It was truly a parade of foolish days.
Perhaps that was why. There were even absurd rumors circulating that his heart, made of ice, was slowly melting, and that people should seize the opportunity to confess their feelings.
Of course, dozens of people foolishly believed it and rushed in, only to be effortlessly knocked down.
In any case, it was true that he had become a little softer—he was coming to his senses more often as time went on—and, unlike before, he even showed a fairly kind attitude unless it was a major issue.
And this also applied to Lücet Roshan, who was known as his close friend.
Of course, Lücet Roshan, who was personally experiencing the kindness that all young ladies longed for, was not at all pleased with this situation. She was glad to see her friend acting like a human being, even if he was behaving foolishly as if he had been stabbed in the head, but the fact that he was acting that way towards her was chilling.
She herself was acting like a moron, pretending to be calm next to the Crown Prince, but she felt that this was too much. She even wondered if his head had gone a little crazy from enduring the pain of unrequited love.
Otherwise, there was no way he would be looking at her with such an airy and affectionate smile.
She narrowed her eyes with a sullen expression. Lücet Roshan couldn't understand what her friend was thinking at all.
So, she gritted her teeth and barely managed to speak to the Knight of Ice, who was showing a level of kindness that made her skin crawl. She felt so repulsed that cold sweat was running down her spine.
"Stop it. It's scary. I wish you wouldn't do that to me. You're weird. Are you on drugs or something? It's been a while since you've been with a prostitute, hasn't it?"
Then, he sighed and swept his hair back. Michael's face, revealed under his slightly narrowed brow, was stained with anxiety, impatience, annoyance, and disappointment.
"Is it that obvious? I'm still far from perfect."
Lücet, relieved to see the Michael she knew, asked with a puzzled expression.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"I'm wearing a mask. The mask of a kind knight. I was clumsy before because I didn't have enough time, so I'm trying to approach her with a more perfect appearance this time. But it seems I'm still far from perfect if even someone like you can see through it."
Michael Ayres had an even dirtier mouth than the Crown Prince. No, his tongue was arguably worse than his personality.
However, only a very few people knew this. This was because he restrained himself as much as possible, considering his public reputation.
The Knight of Ice, the pride of the Empire, was known to be an extremely polite gentleman, even if he was overly cold.
But this mask was shattered when he was with his friends. Especially in the case of Lücet Roshan, she was the biggest victim of this dirty temper.
She frowned at the words "someone like you," but soon smiled nonchalantly. Her lips trembled slightly as she pushed up the corners of her mouth, but she couldn't just get angry when she thought of her friend, who was willing to take on a different persona for the woman he loved. So, she gave him sincere advice.
"Then practice in front of a mirror. Your eyes aren't smiling. Do you have to brag about how bad your temper is? Don't be stupid."
"My eyes aren't smiling?"
"Yeah. It's really scary when your eyes aren't smiling but only your mouth is forming a curve. It feels like you're smiling out of obligation? Sir Michael Ayres. Do you know how much intimidation your cold eyes make the other person feel?"
"Is that why she rejected me?"
Of course, at that time, his eyes were also desperately pleading, and he had a very pitiful expression, but Michael, who couldn't see his own face, couldn't help but think that he hadn't conveyed his sincerity because he was clumsy.
"And if you're going to imitate a kind knight, do something more distinctive."
"Distinctive behavior?"
"Yeah. So that she can't reject you. Now that we're on the subject, who in society, except for you, is a knight who isn't kind to women? The reason why a weirdo like you gets attention is because of that. Getting your heart is like becoming a special person. That's why everyone's so crazy about you."
Lücet Roshan's words were both understandable and very difficult, confusing him. The role of a kind knight alone wasn't enough. Then what else was needed?
At times like this, he envied the foolish young ladies who blindly rushed at him, trusting in his beauty. Even if they followed him around shamelessly, everything was resolved with just the name of "love."
It was purely by chance that a young page who was in love caught Michael Ayres's eye.
The page, with the downy hair on his face still very fresh, wagged his tail like a puppy whenever the maid he liked appeared.
He seemed unable to control his emotions, rushing around and hovering around her. The sweet words "I like you" dripped from his entire body, making the mouths of those who watched water.
Perhaps that was why? The maid didn't seem to have any feelings for the page, but she couldn't just push him away and was reluctantly accepting him. Her face was full of trouble, but her gently softened eyes held a kind of resignation.
One day, he witnessed the scene with the Crown Prince and Lücet Roshan. Even the scoundrel Idi was smiling contentedly, finding it amusing. Only the Knight of Ice couldn't accept this sweet and fresh sight.
So, he quietly muttered, unable to hide his bewilderment.
"Why can't she cut him off decisively? Isn't it a difficult situation?"
Then, the Crown Prince looked at him with an expression that said, "Have you ever seen such a hopeless guy?"
"It seems very fitting that your nickname is 'Knight of Ice.' How can you look at that and say, 'Why can't she cut him off decisively?' It's not that she can't, it's that she can't. When he's throwing himself at her like that, only a cold-blooded person could coldly reject him."
Lücet Roshan calmly took over the conversation.
"Otherwise, she'd feel like she's become a bad person."
The Crown Prince chuckled without dignity. He was showing his teeth, which was unlike him, as if he found Lücet Roshan's words funny.
"Ah, Lüce's right. That's a low-level way of appealing to her conscience. But you can't just criticize it, because if you can win her affection like that, whether it's instinct or calculation, it's worth trying at least once."
Lüce looked at Michael Ayres instead of agreeing. As if to say, "That's it."
He frowned and looked back and forth between the page and Lücet Roshan. The deep furrow in his brow held extreme conflict. It wasn't a matter of "Do I have to go this far?" but rather "With my face?"
His face was closer to a sharp, handsome man than a cute one. In other words, it would be difficult to put on an innocent smile with a face like Michael's unless you had exceptional acting skills.
But Michael Ayres couldn't easily say "You're crazy." The words that only a cold-blooded person could coldly reject him were shaking him. More than anything, you never knew. She might be swayed by that kind of method.
Of course, there was no way that Michael Ayres, who had grown up cold-blooded, could suddenly become an innocent puppy.
No matter how hard he tried, he was still the Knight of Ice, a cold-blooded man with thorns in his tongue. The women who had at least come close to him in the past now couldn't even approach him and just watched from afar. Just being a little kinder wasn't enough to overcome his true nature.
But love was so great that it changed a person's character without a second thought. It was as if practice and everything else were unnecessary. Complete disarmament, there was no more fitting phrase. Michael Ayres felt that to the bone through Cishe de Bishwaltz.
That day was also purely by chance. Michael Ayres, who had never expected to meet a girl who hadn't even made her social debut in the corridors of the Imperial Palace, felt his heart stop at the sight of Cishe, who was twice as beautiful as he remembered.
She was dressed even more splendidly than at the Dibenzel mansion, but it suited her so well that he felt dizzy.
"Bischwartz Young Lady?"
At this point, there was no sign of the results of his practice as a kind puppy knight.
His already frozen mind was leading him to become an instinctive fool. Raw, with all reason and everything else excluded.
It was fortunate that his facial muscles moved like they had during practice, drawing a youthful smile like a boy, otherwise he would have shown a one-sided disgrace. It couldn't have been a more fortunate thing for Michael Ayres.
Of course, Cishe de Bishwaltz still maintained a cold attitude despite his behavior. At this point, she could be called ice itself, rather than a woman with warm blood flowing through her veins.
However, she couldn't openly reject him, as if she was conscious of the gazes around her, which was something she could do because she knew that Michael Ayres had many followers in the Imperial Palace.
Thanks to that, a welcome gap was created. Since a great knight like him would never miss that gap, he barely regained his senses and was able to start acting.
No, it wasn't acting, he was showing the emotions that had been piled up with longing without filtering them. His cheeks were clearly flushed like a youthful boy in puberty.
Cishe de Bishwaltz seemed very flustered by Michael Ayres's change, showing a somewhat shaky appearance.
She was building a wall and being wary of him, but she didn't reject his offer to escort her, which meant that there was some hope.
He added a few more words, but she was his "girl," handing him her hand with a prim expression. Not only that, but she was faithfully engaging in conversation and even showing a rather cute side.
Michael Ayres felt like his heart would burst at her hand that touched his fingertips. He wanted to hold her hand a little tighter, so he intertwined his fingers with hers, adding a bit of personal desire, but she didn't reject him, which made him feel even more so.
Did this mean there was some hope? Was this the right way to go after all? Heat was rising within him.
But the luck ended there. No sooner had he broken through her somewhat loosened guard than she pushed him away again. His heart was throbbing and aching at the obvious act of rejection.
Before he knew it, he found himself assigning meaning to each and every one of her words and actions, and being alternately delighted and disappointed.
So, Michael Ayres thought that his position as a loser begging for love was very pathetic. He couldn't understand himself, who was happy with her every little action.
What was so great about that thing?
But since he didn't know how to get back the heart that had been stolen, he could only be led by her. The knife was entirely in Cishe de Bishwaltz's hands in this situation.
Even the Crown Prince couldn't wield him like this. That went for the Emperor, or even God. But Cishe de Bishwaltz was doing it without a second thought. When he was with her, he felt like he had become a miserable slave.
Would it have been better if he hadn't gone to Duke Dibenzel's mansion that day?
Even though he had these regrets, his mouth faithfully promised a future meeting. He was making a voice that was unknowingly losing strength because he knew he would be rejected. He wished she would at least pity him...
'But if my thoughts are correct, I dare say that Young Lady will also refuse this.'
Michael Ayres wanted to bite his tongue because he thought it was a very foolish thing to say, even though he had said it himself. At the same time, he blankly wondered what he should do if he was hurt again this time. He himself couldn't guarantee that his heart, which had been rejected so many times, would be able to withstand it properly.
No, should he just give up? Would he be less miserable then?
It was then. Cruel fate threw him a wonderful pity. The miraculous pull was somewhat caressing his tattered heart.
'How can I stop chance? Then I hope you have a safe trip back.'
I'm going crazy. How can you shake me up like this? How can you make me go back and forth between heaven and hell with that one insignificant word?
I'm really going crazy. I felt like I was going to die from the sweet ecstasy that wrapped around my entire body.
Patience and self-control were rapidly collapsing. As his composure subsided, a ferocious beast wagged its tail in joy and smacked its lips. Instinct was ordering him. To rush in and devour those cute lips as they were. If he had been a man with a little less self-control, he would have done so without hesitation.
But this was the Imperial Palace. He was a knight.
Michael Ayres exerted superhuman patience and gave a polite greeting. And he stepped back as if nothing had happened. Of course, he was walking—no, almost running—at a pace that he himself didn't recognize, but that wasn't the problem now. The important thing was that his blood was boiling.
A moment later, when he reached a deserted place, Michael Ayres barely managed to catch his breath. His legs staggered and his back touched the wall. Every time he inhaled and exhaled hot breaths, his seething blood was raging.
Who could look at him and say that he was the noble knight "Michael Ayres"? Here was a foolish dog, panting with a joy he wanted to worship, not knowing what to do.
Still, he didn't feel bad about himself because he thought that if Cishe de Bishwaltz showed the same attitude as just now, he wouldn't care about anything. He really did.
"I'm going crazy. How... how can this be?"
He smiled happily, his face flushed red, like a man who had gained the whole world. He felt like he was going to die of happiness just because he had been allowed to promise a future meeting. Even though it was truly an insignificant thing.
At the same time, he smiled to himself, thinking that it was a little effective to boldly crash into her with innocent eyes like a puppy.
Lüce was right. This was the path he had to take. So, he decided to wear this kind of mask in the future as well.
Even though it was a face and behavior limited to her, he didn't care what happened as long as he could break down her guard little by little. He could gradually reveal his true personality when she got used to him.
In this way, Michael de Ayres, the Knight of Ice and the Crown Prince's sword, was infected with the incurable disease of first love. He willingly chose a life of having to beg for the mercy of the goddess Cishe, to the beautiful woman who reflected himself, who had treated many women coldly.
And this had continued until the present, miserably pressing down on his heart and then repeatedly lifting it up in the most ecstatic way. As if mocking the Empire's sweetest loser, like that.
Side Story End
