16 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper
Shattered Glass Slipper Shards Episode 16
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If I had not been toyed with by their schemes and left to my own devices, if someone had offered me advice on my skin—alas, I was so consumed with beating Roena that I didn't even have the leisure for personal time with my mother—perhaps I might have been a little less unhappy.
Therefore, Marie's appearance with a bowl of 'whitening agent' as I lay reclined on the reed sofa was quite a novel sight.
With meticulous care, she began to apply the whitening agent to my face. Then, she knelt beside me and brushed my hair with a comb made of ivory. She was waiting for the whitening agent to dry.
After some time, the whitening agent on my face dried, and it was gently washed off with lotion. I then put on a garment as thin as a moth's wing and headed to the bathroom. Marie's role ended there. She would now go to prepare my bed.
In the bathroom, a dedicated maid, instead of Marie, stood respectfully, ready to attend to my bath. The bathtub carved from stone was filled with water infused with Roman chamomile. The scent, a harmonious blend of fresh grass and rich apple, made my body feel languid.
As I leaned back in the tub and closed my eyes, the maid diligently began to wash me.
My hair was rinsed with a liquid made from Gellery Sage, and my locks were then tidied with a rinse made from wine mixed with pearl powder. A massage with soft fragrant oil all over my body was, of course, included.
I am sixteen years old now. With two years remaining until my debut into high society, I intended to dedicate myself to cultivating my beauty during this time. I planned to spare no expense on items that would enhance my radiance, rather than on frivolous purchases.
Having keenly felt how potent a weapon a woman's beauty could be in the past, it was immensely important to me how attractive a woman I could appear to others.
Roena's ability to win everyone's affection was due not only to her kind disposition, bordering on simple-mindedness, but also to her beauty, her skin being whiter and softer than anyone else's.
Therefore, I had to become an elegant white egret, not a crow who had luckily become a noble lady through my mother. No, I had to become a woman with a beauty that outshone even them.
A woman who was pure as a child, innocent as a maiden, yet wicked and captivating as a night courtesan—a secret woman like that. Like the prostitutes of Filianne Alley, where Madame de Chateauroux once frequented!
If I could only acquire their secret charm, the kind that conquered all men, I would no longer fear Roena de Bishbalz. Instead, I would be able to look down on her and laugh heartily.
While I could learn perfection as a lady from my paternal aunt, Madame de Lavallière, the mysterious magic to become a woman who was both cunning and adorable like a cat, surpassing even that, was something unobtainable in this stuffy aristocratic world.
To crush Roena, I needed an all-encompassing, subtle aura. One that was as secretive as the veil of night, yet so dangerous upon closer inspection, an allure that could not help but be worshipped.
I needed an absolute allure, enough to make people willingly carry oil and leap into flames for me. But how? Whom could I learn such a thing from!
For Madame de Chateauroux, the Emperor's mistress, what is needed now is a 'lady' with aristocratic perfection, so it is too dangerous to discuss such matters—assuming, of course, she would reply to my letter.
Nor could I simply go to Filianne Alley and pick out a prostitute.
Of course, before debuting into society, I had learned about sexual intercourse between men and women and how to caress through prostitutes summoned to the house, but that was all done under the observation of others, with no direct conversation possible.
Ah, what should I do? No matter how much I racked my brain, no suitable method or person came to mind. Everyone I had met in the past was so rigidly bound by etiquette and law that it was utterly tedious.
Troubled by this problem, I changed my clothes and did not stop frowning until I went to bed. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.
The day dawned quickly, and it was morning. Not only had I lost sleep pondering all night, but my head ached even more from Marie kicking Capsa in the next room, so I got out of bed with a gaunt face.
My mother shrieked at my appearance, staggering like a sick person. She was already frightened, fearing I had been troubled by the maids again.
I had to try hard to reassure her. To my stepfather, who looked at me with a worried face, I vaguely explained that I couldn't sleep because I was excited about what I had to learn.
Lacking an appetite, I ate a light breakfast of soup and bread, and then went for a walk in a nearby park to soothe my throbbing head.
This well-maintained place was almost deserted, perhaps because it was early morning. It might also be because it was open only to nobles.
Therefore, meeting that man, Theodore Vitrice, was almost a matter of chance. I would not have run into him like this if I hadn't decided to clear my head by looking at the lake in the park.
Good heavens. To think that my excuse of a headache, which allowed me to leave Marie behind, would lead to this!
He was set up on a nearby hill, and even in the early morning, he was embracing a woman by his side, his hands moving in a manner that bordered on lewdness. Judging by the wine bottles scattered around, he seemed quite drunk.
So, if he hadn't called out my name and stopped me, I would have ignored him and walked past.
"Ah, Countess de Bishbalz. Oops. Please forgive my lack of decorum due to my intoxication."
Even in his drunken state, his voice was incredibly charming, sparkling like a jewel. It was even seductive enough to make my knees tremble.
However, having seen him exude a secretive, sinister aura, I found this disheveled rake toying with a woman utterly unfamiliar. I couldn't tell which was his true self.
Startled by the unexpected encounter, I hesitated, unable to greet him properly. Young Master Vitrice chuckled and tried to get up.
He seemed to think I was displeased by his behavior and therefore not returning his greeting. After all, reclining on the ground with just a nod of the head while claiming to be drunk was quite rude, wasn't it?
Nevertheless, he attempted to move to offer a proper greeting, but his inebriated body did not cooperate as he wished, moving stiffly like a marionette with its strings tangled, a comical sight like a farce.
After several minutes, and after sweating enough to fill about a cup with his futile efforts, he seemed to realize his actions were reckless. He forgot his gentlemanly pride and earnestly asked the woman beside him for help.
This happened only after he slipped several times, nearly kissing the floor.
Therefore, if Theodore Vitrice had made his decision a moment later, he would surely have ended up sprawled on the ground like a frog.
The woman who was the object of his lewdness, wearing a dress so low-cut that her pale brown areola was faintly visible, was incredibly alluring and beautiful. Her fiery, reddish-brown hair perfectly complemented the passion in her eyes.
From the hand that supported Theodore Vitrice to her faintly visible pale neck, she exuded the aura of a temptress who could ensnare any man. The sway of her hips as she walked was truly magnificent.
Because of this, the fact that she looked younger than Young Master Vitrice was irrelevant. She was a magnificent rose, attracting bees.
I paid attention to her beautiful appearance, her slender waist, her exaggeratedly charming smile, her magnificent dress and jewelry—which were no less splendid than those worn by noble ladies!—they were refined and pretty too!—and her bold behavior, clinging to Theodore Vitrice as if she had forgotten all shame.
Despite hearing from Young Master Vitrice that I was the 'Countess de Bishbalz,' she had the audacity to pretend ignorance, waiting for him to introduce her. She even smiled brightly at me.
Feeling provoked and extremely displeased, I hastily declined Theodore Vitrice's greeting.
"I shall greet you properly again."
"No, you don't have to. I wasn't standing here waiting for a formal greeting. I'll be going now."
"Oh, you intend to leave just like that?"
"Then what do you expect me to do? This situation is not beneficial to either of us."
At my words, Young Master Vitrice asked back, looking puzzled.
"Why is it not beneficial?"
His eyes were cloudy like a sky on a rainy day, yet they held a certain beauty. His dreamily distorted pupils possessed a classical charm, like figures in an old illustration. His wine-stained lips were as kind and immature as a child's.
Theodore Vitrice grinned like a mischievous boy and grabbed my hand. As I twisted my wrist to escape his grasp, he began to pester me childishly.
"Sit here and let's talk. Perinnil will be your conversation partner."
The woman's name must have been 'Perinnil.' As soon as the young master finished speaking, she blinked her eyes exaggeratedly, pouted her lips, and lightly tapped his chest with a small, clenched fist, complaining in a nasal tone.
"Oh my, you're asking me to be your conversation partner without even introducing me properly. How rude will the Countess think you are? Ah, this is too much. I'd rather go back to the shop than be treated like this. I turned away reservation clients out of affection for you, Young Master. Is this how you treat me?"
As she spoke, she naturally looked at me. She seemed to believe that with hints like her revealing attire, her casual physical contact, the mention of her shop, and reserved clients, I would easily realize her profession was 'prostitute.'
Therefore, she probably believed I would look at her with contempt and distance myself. A typical noble lady would not be able to bear standing face-to-face with a 'prostitute.'
Come to think of it, in the past, young masters who were known for their dissolute lifestyles had often drawn the ire of noble ladies by bringing high-class prostitutes to parks or lakeside.
As nobles with honor, they could not possibly stand in the same place as 'foolish women who only knew how to spread their legs,' and they felt a fear of contagion as if a plague were breaking out simply by being in the same location as those who knew no shame.
So much so that the Emperor, unable to bear the ladies' complaints, enacted a decree stating, 'Prostitutes are forbidden from entering places frequented by nobles.'
To people, prostitutes were such beings. Even a rat's corpse lying in a dark alley—so old and emaciated—would be considered cleaner than them, that was the common opinion. They were merely lumps of flesh hanging in a butcher shop, and cheap meat that everyone had tasted.
In a sense, they were objects of fear. While they offered the fantastical and secret pleasures that their clients craved, they also inflicted terrible diseases—syphilis.
Above all, for noblewomen, prostitutes were a nuisance who lured their husbands and caused significant financial problems.
