20 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper
Shattered Glass Slipper Shards Episode 20
==========
I lay listlessly on the bed, praising myself for skipping breakfast to better accommodate my waist, perfectly cinched by the corset.
A lady's perfection lies in a slender waist, so I tightened the laces until my ribs threatened to protrude, making me dizzy.
"I can't breathe."
I muttered grumpily, letting out a languid sigh.
"Shall I loosen it for a moment?"
Marie asked tentatively, gauging my mood. I waved my hand dismissively and let my head droop. It was too much effort even to answer.
My stomach continued to churn afterward, so I skipped lunch as well. All I had consumed were lime juice and a few pieces of fruit. While my waist felt like it would break from the corset, the pressure of needing to catch Madame de Lavalier's eye weighed me down, suppressing my appetite.
Thinking of the humiliation and contempt I would soon receive from her made my vision swim, even stirring a faint anger within me. Unassuming obedience was too difficult for me. Walking the tightrope between arrogance and submission was an extremely delicate task.
Would I be able to refrain from uttering the insult "Stone Doll" from my lips? I wished for my self-control to be heavier than rock. Even if she were to insult my mother in front of me.
After another hour or two passed, a servant entered to announce Madame de Lavalier's arrival at the main gate.
With Marie's help, I rose from my seat. I re-checked my hair and attire in the mirror, then descended to the first floor, feigning an expression flushed with curiosity and delight. My stepfather and mother, Roena, were already seated, waiting for me.
"You're meeting Aunt for the first time, aren't you?"
Roena whispered to me. Her face still shone brightly, but I felt like I was going to gag. I swallowed the bile rising to my throat and answered her.
"Yes. That's why I'm really looking forward to it. I wonder what she'll be like."
Mother stood beside my stepfather, her face so pale it looked as if she might faint. Her expression, which seemed like she could collapse if nudged, appeared incredibly precarious.
She looked like a young girl standing before a monster. If not for the title of the mistress of the Bishvarts Family, she would surely have screamed and fled.
At last, the door opened, and Madame de Lavalier entered. I almost laughed at her unchanged appearance but managed to hold it in.
To feel relieved by her familiar presence—my past self would have thought I was insane. But Madame de Lavalier was truly just as I remembered her.
Her hair, pulled up perfectly without a single strand out of place, gleamed; her dress, which softly enveloped her slender yet full figure, was utterly elegant.
Her skin was a little pale but lustrous, and her lips, tinged with a faint rose, were pressed together, exuding a strange sense of authority. Her eyes, filled with the vastness of a blue sky, scattered a cool aura as if embedded with ice, and her voice, though low, articulated with clarity, imbued with a strong power that intimidated the listener.
The emerald cane she always carried exuded a deep, blue aura like a knight's sword. From the trivial act of removing her gloves to the command to bring in her luggage, the scent of noble blood flowed strongly.
As Madame de Lavalier swept past my mother, her back perfectly straight, I glimpsed the image of a proud cat with its tail held high.
"Welcome, Sister. Did you have a comfortable journey?"
"There were no problems at all. Thank you for your concern."
After a brief embrace with my stepfather, Madame de Lavalier's gaze swept over Roena and me. Roena was utterly thrilled to see her aunt after so long.
"Oh, yes. It's Eniro. My little darling. Have you been well?"
"Welcome, Aunt."
Roena, lightly holding the hem of her skirt with her fingertips, greeted her with a graceful movement, truly like a cute lark as Lavalliere had said.
Her adorable dress, adorned with numerous ruffles in a pale yellow, further enhanced her loveliness, drawing admiration from everyone.
Roena's face was alight with a bright smile, her joy at meeting Madame de Lavalier unmistakable. This even elicited a faint smile from Lavalliere.
"You must be Sissae."
The moment Lavalliere spoke my name, I stepped forward and offered my greeting. I had perfectly calculated the angle of my bow, the curve of my arms, the number of fingers holding my skirt, and the time it took to straighten up.
As I greeted her, everyone held their breath as if by prior agreement. And when I straightened up to meet Lavalliere's gaze, they were astonished by the smile that graced her lips.
Madame de Lavalier looked at me with what seemed like surprise.
"You are not unintelligent."
To her highest possible praise, I replied with a bright smile.
"You flatter me."
It goes without saying that everyone exhaled a collective sigh of relief.
