Ch#257
Fragment of the Broken Glass Slipper Side Story 1 Episode 2
Michael Aires found her so lovable that he suddenly wanted to kiss her. Her plump, ripe lips kept disrupting his gaze.
However, the location wasn't ideal for acting on his emotions. Above all, his lady wasn't someone he could handle impulsively according to his instincts. She was far too precious—gazing at her was almost overwhelming.
Thus, he calmly concealed the fangs of the beast boiling with desire and donned the mask of a gentlemanly knight. To subtly deter her from showing too much interest in the performer, he continued with words of veiled jealousy. The glint of envy was vivid, but he masked his emotions so masterfully that what reached her ears was nothing but courteous consideration.
"But meeting her in person might lead to some disappointment. The role and the actress are different, after all. Still, if you wish, I can arrange an introduction."
Oblivious to Michael’s feelings, Cisse innocently shook her head.
"Then I'll have to be content with just watching the opera. No, that's more than enough."
Of course, she couldn't even remember how the story unfolded in the latter half.
In truth, today's opera viewing had been quite sudden. It was Michael Aires who had shown up unannounced and suggested they attend.
Having barely managed to send letters amid his busy schedule, he arrived at Cisse's without even changing out of his court uniform.
Then, amid her flustered silence, he poured out his words like a sigh.
'It's unfair. You seem perfectly fine without seeing me for so long. Meanwhile, I've been withering away.'
Was it because it had been so long? He dropped his usual pretense and spoke bluntly. The thick obsession laced with grievance was chillingly eerie. Cisse even doubted her own ears.
'......Pardon?'
'I wish you'd felt even a little uncomfortable without me... And that seeing my face would cure it. Wouldn't that be wonderful?'
'......'
As she remained speechless in bewilderment, Michael gave a wry smile and shrugged. His eyes sharpened as if he'd finally regained his composure—the gentle light she knew.
'Don't look at me like that. It's just a small complaint. But it's sincere. Cisse, I want you to feel the same—that you can't live without me, just as I can't without you. Yes, that's it. I want to be your one and only remedy.'
'But Sir Ailes, that can't happen.'
'No. It can. I've always been that way.'
'Mel......'
'Oh dear, my lady still doesn't truly know me. When will you finally see it? Don't be scared. It's just a little wish. So please overlook it generously. What matters is that I missed you terribly. So much. Ah, now I feel alive again.'
At that moment, he looked desperately earnest, like someone barely surfacing for air.
That must be why his words of longing felt so heartfelt. To Cisse, Sir Ailes remained the most pitiable yet sweetest defeat.
Who could refuse such a wretched soul? Even on such short notice.
Any other woman would have welcomed him joyfully, even if he'd arrived just before she fell asleep. Michael Aires was a man worth that.
Half a year after quelling the rebellion, the imperial situation hadn't improved.
In particular, the Imperial Knights Order, tasked with guarding the Emperor, spent their days in constant tension due to lingering rebels.
Of course, they could finally breathe thanks to the Blue Whisper knight who had voluntarily pledged himself as the Emperor's sword. There was still mountains of work—far more than that expression could convey.
The Emperor aggressively suppressed nobles daily. Long after Duke Kiran's execution, he pressured those around him as if unsatisfied.
Suspects of rebellion were dragged in several times a day, most tortured until broken or hanged. Survivors were sold into slavery.
Naturally, their assets reverted to the crown, generating heaps of paperwork. Even Michael Aires had rolled up his sleeves. Lady Rosan had pleaded tearfully, and the Emperor's immense pressure played a role.
Thus, for months, Michael Aires toiled without properly returning home, sleeping and eating in the room the Emperor provided. Even when he tried to steal a moment's rest, the Emperor's sleepless nights made complaints impossible.
Grumbling about the damnably suspicious Emperor, he endured silently, knowing it prevented backlash.
His crime of holding Cisse de Bischwaltz's hand at the victory banquet instead of the Emperor's weighed heavily, so he had to appease as best he could.
Though he'd warned he'd side with Cisse, executing it was another matter. All he could do was prostrate himself as a sinner.
Above all, considering how the Emperor had growled like a wounded beast for days after—whatever happened—he had no choice.
But such thoughts didn't last. The filthy nature trapped within his knightly shell began to writhe.
The first couple of months were unavoidable, but as three or four passed, his patience reached its limit.
When society buzzed with nonsense about Cisse being abandoned while he buried himself in work, he nearly lost his mind.
Her husband—if one could call the man she never even married that—revealed as an invalid from poison, unable to perform as a man, suddenly sparked men's predatory interest. It enraged Michael Aires further.
Maintaining outward calm, inwardly he wanted to slaughter them, strip their bones clean.
No, what was cutting off a limb? Better to crush that useless third leg oozing pointless vigor. They'd fear straying near her then.
Michael Aires thought so irritably as he scribbled with his pen.
How satisfying it would be to beat them senseless and twist their limbs grotesquely if only he had cause.
The problem was being trapped in the office by the Emperor's tasks. Most of the stacked papers on his desk were due today, leaving no room for distraction. It drove him mad.
Mechanically reviewing documents, Michael Aires was no different from a dangerous beast. His inherently chilling demeanor froze those around him, but months confined to the palace worsened it.
Growling openly in displeasure, he was like a starving predator. A servant bringing simple refreshments fled in terror.
His icy gaze demanding 'What is this?' nearly induced heart attacks; countless complained as such.
Little wonder Lady Rosan visited to calm him, hoping his noble reputation wouldn't turn infamous—pure friendship. Though his snarling mockery shattered her comfort futilely.
Of course, Michael Aires didn't care. He'd publicly discarded her—and his honor—at the victory banquet. No cleaning that mud now.
Rather, he wished his tarnished reputation would utterly extinguish others' interest in Cisse.
He should've known no one immune to the beauty that captivated him!
He cursed his own complacency.
If only she had some flaw anywhere, he'd rest easier—but the Cisse he knew was nearly perfect, leaving him anxious. Beauty and figure aside, conversing with her would win anyone over.
Her gentle tone maintained propriety while subtly inviting—subtly alluring.
Paired with elegant refinement and wit? Good lord, she'd ensnare every man in the empire.
No, even that might be survivable; they wouldn't fall too deeply. The killer was her smile. The soft curve on plump lips made her mischievous, cat-like face irresistibly enchanting, bewitching all. Michael Aires, ensnared by its spell, knew its lethal toll on the heart.
Harmful? No, destructive. Tales of an Eastern beauty toppling nations with a glance—Lady Bischwaltz's smile matched or exceeded it (purely Michael's subjective view, of course).
Oblivious Cisse de Bischwaltz sent letters inquiring after him faithfully, but reading them, he fretted over rivals swarming her.
With his one-sided clinging, what if she tired of him? Lysette Rosan's presence offered some comfort, but their victory banquet rift made even that unreliable.
Worse, rumors swirled of her growing closer to Duchess Debenzel. Though not yet debuted, shielded by her title as Viscount Rad de Bischwaltz's wife, she actively navigated society, meeting many.
This troubled him more than her fondness for young Jack. The boy had status barriers; others didn't.
"Better to plant someone to watch her; it'd ease my mind."
He envied the Emperor's shadows then as never before.
Michael Aires respected House Bischwaltz rising anew thanks to Duchess Debenzel and others, yet secretly wished Cisse powerless, dependent.
Even for walking—or breathing—what joy if reliant on him? He'd wanted her heart at first; now greed swelled. His dark possessiveness dripped raw, brutal gore.
Indeed, less rational, he'd have abandoned duty, kidnapped, and caged Cisse de Bischwaltz long ago. Two desires clashed fiercely within: support her fully, or claim her solely for himself.
First true love, uncharted, left him perilously unsteady.
Nightly dreams of her tormented; waking from unquenched thirst, his lower body throbbed sweetly. Shame and guilt drove cold water down, but hunger persisted, agonizing.
He yearned to rush to his dream's mistress, but as her kind, thoughtful knight, he endured.
Michael Aires refused to betray Cisse's trust. Harboring such desires felt betrayal enough, weighing heavy.
Mimicking a gentle, embracing man, his feral beast nature risked exposure (unaware she'd glimpsed it). He fretted.
Impossible to rage at Lady Bischwaltz, but if she witnessed his outbursts at others and recoiled? What excuse if she said, "I never knew you were like this"? If his filth drove her away? Pitiful pleading might sway her soft heart... No, first half-kill the prowling scum...
But such worries lasted only four months. Months without her face choked him breathless, thought impossible.
To him, Cisse de Bischwaltz was heart and breath. How had she imprinted so deeply? Inconceivable even to himself.
Thus, impulsively, he bolted from the office, ignoring the servant's shouts, galloping to House Bischwaltz. Seizing her wide-eyed face for a kiss, he barely restrained, regaining reason.
Oddly, mere gazing revived him. A brief quench after long thirst. His frantic heart settled tamely, reunited with its master.
Were he a beast, he'd wag his tail furiously, roll belly-up in frenzy.
Yet Michael Aires wasn't so innocently expressive. He'd slipped exposing his raw self moments ago but swiftly recovered a flawless smile.
Rather, feigning calm, he extended a hand to stir her pity.
"Tonight, I claim my way, Cisse. So grant mercy to this poor man who's endured wretched times."
Despite the rudeness, her reluctant nod elicited swallowed ecstasy; they headed to the opera.
This cunning man knew her weakness to his desperation, pacing indulgence to sate his greed.
It demanded immense restraint, but today, imprinting on theatergoers that he was at Cisse's side compensated. Fortunately, he controlled instincts gentlemanly.
In truth, Cisse de Bischwaltz was as busy as Michael Aires; no proper meetings lately. Their rendezvous limited to House Bischwaltz, brief hours at best—this lingered long, satisfying him greatly.
Not parting post-opera but strolling a nearby park thrilled him.
The riverside park, famed in society for exquisite gardens, was Empress Antoinette's—Emperor Seonhyeon's wife's—bequest. Imported rarities from neighbors to distant Eastern realms made it a spectacle.
The exotic flora gleamed beautifully under night skies. Post-performance nights like this buzzed with lovers.
Sir Ailes and Lady Bischwaltz strolled slowly, inhaling sweet floral scents.
"Did you enjoy the opera?"
"Yes."
Her smiling reply teased playfully, 'I'd accept such impulsive requests anytime,' refreshing as the night air.
Fittingly, the opera depicted a light romance: a country noble lady's debut at her first imperial ball, relatable for Cisse's impending debutante.
"I should have arranged that meeting with the actress after all."
His insincere remark drew her head-shake and laughter.
"Don't say that. It just reminded me of my first ball."
"How did it feel?"
"Exciting and scary. Like owning the world."
Her gaze recalled her pre-regression ball, unknown to Michael. Recalling last year's with her mother, he replied lightly.
"You'll experience it again soon."
"Pardon?"
"The debutante ball is happening soon, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is."
Cisse swallowed bitterness, nodding slowly, masking past trauma casually.
"Lysette's looking forward to it. Wants to attend with you, Cisse. But I told her no chance. Not even in dreams. I scowled like a back-alley thug, growling."
His deliberate grimace mimicking a ruffian drew her laughter.
"Unbelievable. Really? Mel, tell me it's a lie. Can't imagine it."
"Sadly, all true, Cisse. I had reason to dissuade her."
"What?"
"Attending together. At the debutante ball, by your side should be me, not Lysette."
Her cheeks flushed at Michael's words. Lips twitching shyly, she averted her gaze. Feeling thirst surge, he licked his lips.
Fragment of the Broken Glass Slipper
Novel by Yeolmae
Author: Yeolmae
Publisher: Kwon Tae-wan, Woo Cheon-je
eBook Publication Date: 2017-12-22
Production: CL Production
Address: 1108-ho, 41 Digital-ro 31-gil, Guro-gu, Seoul
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