Ch#258
Fragment of the Broken Glass Slipper Side Story 1 Episode 3
Her prettily flushed cheeks were tempting. Not just her earlobes, but her neck too—all dyed red, as if something sweet would drip if touched.
Was there anything more lovable than a woman armed with society's etiquette crumbling helplessly to reveal her vulnerable inner self? It held even greater power than hearing her unguarded laughter.
Michael Aires concealed his lecherous thoughts and quietly gazed at her hand. If he even grasped it here, she would surely startle and tremble like a startled bird. Cisse de Bischwaltz showed her fragility in unexpected places.
She might even flutter like a cute bird flapping its wings.
But he did not act on the thought. Cisse was far too precious and difficult to sate a momentary impulse for his own satisfaction. An invisible leash was held in her hand. Thus, he might accept without hesitation if she told him to "stop" or "wait."
Others might see her as the pitiable woman in an unwanted marriage or the ruthless girl who revived House Bischwaltz using him, but to Michael, Cisse was a cat with hackles raised.
If admired from a distance while maintaining propriety, she displayed her elegant form unfiltered, but approach even slightly, and she retreated far, sending wary glances. That was why he had to be so cautious. Even if captivated by her beautiful exterior and reaching out, no beneficial connections would be gained. It would only result in loss for the enamored.
The problem was that this emotional imbalance only deepened the obsession—not just for Aires himself, but for Lysette Rosan and even the Emperor.
Michael Aires thought of his recently quite depressed friend and hardened his lips. She was enduring more unhappy days than when the Emperor had been Crown Prince.
Others envied her, saying how happy she must be with her house elevated to ducal status and herself mentioned as a prime candidate for Empress, but ironically, Lysette Rosan had gained nothing.
Her relationship with Cisse was as precarious as thin ice, and the Emperor saw her only as a capable political partner, not as a "woman."
Ridiculously, all relations were blocked under the name of friendship.
"It's so miserable and sad that we share the same tastes."
One day, the Duchess had come to him and poured out her heart like a sigh. Her face looked as precarious as if it might collapse at any moment—like the wretched confession of one unable to hold onto someone who had left.
In truth, Lysette Rosan liked Cisse de Bischwaltz more than expected. Continuous meetings under the Crown Prince's orders had unexpectedly drawn her in deeper.
Thus, she was deeply shocked by Cisse's adherence to social friendship like others. Of course, she herself had pushed their relationship to this precarious state under the name of friendship, believing Cisse couldn't possibly leave since no one else matched her utility.
In fact, even on the victory banquet day, Cisse had kept her distance. Everything would unfold under the great Emperor's plan, she had said. After all, didn't reviving House Bischwaltz require a backer?
But Duchess Debenzel, that old fox, had made the first move! Forgetting Cisse's prior ties to Duchess Debenzel was painfully regrettable.
"That's why I'm grateful you're not a man. If you were, you'd have fallen to my sword long ago. I'm a man with strong jealousy."
She gave a hollow laugh at Michael's cynicism. The voice spilling from her parted lips was rough like sand. Lysette Rosan was quite worn out.
"That's kind of you to say, Sir Ailes. But honestly, I'd rather take a sword and fall. Would you pity me even a little then? I've done everything for His Majesty, yet gained nothing in the end.
Duchess? What's the point? It remains the house's glory, but nothing comes back to me…
Yet I can't leave his side. I'm such a fool. That's why Cisse distances herself from me. Just like with Duchess Debenzel. Among us, I'm the sole loser. You know what's funny? Even so, I'll stick to this path."
"…Shall we have a drink?"
Nothing comforted like alcohol, but it wasn't something to say in broad daylight to a woman of delicate nerves. Nor was he consoling a man.
Lysette sighed deeply at the heartless knight's words, devoid of even a speck of consideration. Having grown up without restraint since childhood, witnessing all, she must have transcended even her gender now.
"Sir Ailes, Knight of Ice. Normally, wouldn't you embrace and comfort? You're too harsh."
"Seeing you joke means you're still alive enough. Considering you tried to betray me for Edith, even this is a waste. After all, knowing what she means to me, you dared…!"
"You struck us in the back that day too, didn't you? So it cancels out. Anyway, I'll pass on the drink. I have mountains of work. Forget my earlier complaints. That wasn't what I meant to say."
"Then why did you come?"
Lysette Rosan sighed again at his cold attitude, her shoulders slumping. She knew he wasn't one for honeyed comfort, but such treatment still left her heart empty and sad at times.
Her loneliness-filled chest hungered like after long starvation. Was that why? She envied Cisse for perfectly capturing this cold man's heart.
"Cisse will have her debutante ball soon. Ideally, her aunt Madam de Lavalier should be chaperone—it's perfect—but she's bedridden and out of it right now? So what if my mother does it?"
Swallowing "It aligns with His Majesty's will," she forced a smile and looked at the Knight of Ice.
"Why tell me? And why would the Duchess bother with such trouble when my mother is available?"
At Michael's words, Lysette shook her head as if he was hopeless. Pity had settled in her eyes.
"Men are all like this. Listen, Sir Ailes! Remember Cisse is still a countess. Wandering with you is just common social play, overlooked, but if a marchioness steps in, it could get serious. For her honor, you must restrain yourself. And don't you think meeting your mother would burden Cisse?"
"Burden?"
Lysette nodded as if it were obvious. She seemed quite flustered, not expecting her friend to be such a fool believing his love solved everything like an ordinary man.
Attending her joyful debutante with her lover's mother—unless intent on ruining the day, who would?
"Put yourself in her shoes. Comfortable?"
"Ah, I see."
"So I'm asking my mother."
"Then why tell me? Why not ask Cisse directly?"
Lysette hesitated at Michael's words, her pale face filled with fear. Michael knew its meaning well.
Fear of rejection, preemptively wounded. It was the emotion he always hid when facing Cisse.
"If I say it, she'll suspect first. Our relationship is already strained. I don't want to disappoint her more."
"Disappoint?"
"You know everything I do prioritizes His Majesty's gain? This proposal is the best choice after much selection. The shrewd girl will easily grasp what a chaperone offer means."
"And you don't know how I'll respond?"
"…She's a good friend. I don't want to lose her. But I want to be Empress that much. To stay by his side somehow. Losing the competition means I can't wander like this anymore. I know, Mel, I know I'm pathetic. But isn't it better than living as another's wife? Like some foolish noblewoman wasting time on luxuries and gambling? Good lord, no. So don't look at me with condemning eyes."
"At least you know you're foolish. I was debating dragging you back to a tutor."
"…Consistency isn't always good. Hey, Knight of Ice. Can't you be a little kinder to an old friend? My heart hurts."
"Greedy."
"I know."
Lysette Rosan smiled weakly. The soundless expression was merely forced, not quite a sob. Thus, her following voice was near resignation.
"That's why it's so hard now."
Michael Aires lightly shook his head, shaking off thoughts. He wasn't unsympathetic to Lysette's drained state, but considering Cisse's suffering from them, watching was best.
In truth, he hoped her life remained this peaceful. Cisse de Bischwaltz was a modest woman content clutching only her house.
In his eyes, she seemed uninterested in political schemes or social intrigues. Associating with Duchess Debenzel was merely a stepping stone away from the Emperor, yet she drew cold lines without deep involvement. As if knowing going further would bring trouble.
She now understood the Emperor as well as Michael himself.
In fact, for a girl not yet two years into nobility, enduring this much warranted applause.
Even he or Rosan couldn't have done as she had. No, an ordinary person would be busy adapting to noble life, ripe for exploitation.
But not her. She showed sharp insight as if born noble, ultimately wresting what she wanted from the Emperor.
Her bravery merited respect even from a knight like him. Thus, the Emperor and Lysette coveted her still.
Perhaps Michael's own presence gave them leeway. Hence Lysette came spouting nonsense like chaperone.
"Foolishly."
Michael suppressed complex feelings and looked at Cisse. Anyway, seeing her now stirred desire for the debutante ball.
He had vented his temper on Lysette with near-threats, but now realized merely appearing together was insufficient. Michael wanted to give Cisse something special she'd never forget. So she could always smile brightly like now.
Thus, he decided against mentioning the chaperone. Lysette's goal was Empress. If she crumbled over failing one chaperone role, it wasn't fate.
She surely had plans two and three. If Cisse's name was absent, Michael could do anything.
"Weren't you so busy for months you only sent letters? I heard it'll continue. Can you escort me?"
Michael Aires smiled innocently at Cisse's question and replied immediately.
"That was just then. By the debutante ball, I'll be quite free."
Of course, a lie. Unless the Emperor delegated to trusted people, he'd be busier.
Imperial loyalists were filling noble ranks, but above certain titles was hard—lacking merits—and even those handled only innocuous documents. Until the damn Emperor cured his paranoia, it would endless.
Of course, knowing why, Michael couldn't complain openly. If frustrated, just bolt like today.
"I heard papers are piled like mountains. You look exhausted. Better return and rest now."
"Such burning concern is mine alone."
"Pardon?"
"My lovely lady. Don't you know this is rest? I want to stay together a bit longer."
"But…"
Cisse worriedly eyed Michael's sharper, drier jaw than before. Even in dim light, his bloodshot eyes were evident.
Lips pale and chapped. Face pallidly heartbreaking. He had endured during the opera, but accumulated fatigue now showed blatantly.
She recalled when he came injured from fighting the Crown Prince. He hadn't gone home, seeking her instead. Saying he missed her. As if she alone was true respite.
Today must be the same. Eyes crusted with fatigue, yet dragging his heavy body to spend time together.
She would rest home without hesitation, but he insisted. How could he be so devoted?
Cisse swallowed a sigh and spoke gently.
"Yes, alright. Let's stay longer. But kind knight, for my face and honor, better not too long. I don't want to be called the merciless woman dragging a man till he faints."
"You underestimate my stamina greatly."
"Anyone seeing Mel now would think so."
"Then how to prove otherwise? I'm perfectly fine."
"Wouldn't Mel know best?"
His face lowered, planting a light kiss on Cisse's lips. Beaming at her flustered expression, he said brazenly.
"Indeed. If truly tired, I couldn't dare this. Right?"
A mere instant, brief touch, but Cisse covered her lips, glancing around. Trembling lashes betrayed her fluster.
Only Michael was composed, swiftly changing topics as if the kiss were mere greeting—infuriatingly nonchalant.
"To be honest, I feel like relinquishing knight captaincy. Wondering if I can escape work. But His Majesty would say it's perfect and use me in another role."
Cisse inhaled at the sudden confession. Amusing that the perfect knight captain thought this inwardly, and only she heard—immensely sweet.
Though boyishly grumbling for the Knight of Ice.
"Has he befriended beasts?"
She swallowed rising laughter at the man who would surely droop ears and tail, whimpering.
Lysette Rosan as the Emperor's loyal hound, Michael Aires… yes, a large dog. No better metaphor.
Thus, impulsively, she tiptoed to stroke his cheek. Too short for his head. Fluster from the kiss gone.
"…?!"
Michael Aires startled briefly at unexpected touch, then smiled softly, eyes crinkling. He reached, clasping her hand.
White, long fingers interlocked seamlessly, sharing warmth. Thus, he realized no rings adorned her fingers.
"But not yet, right?"
Michael Aires kissed her hand's back, whispering onward. Seeing her brown eyes sparkle at him, he knew what to prepare for the debutante ball.
"No. The decision is always yours, sir. Even His Majesty can't force it."
Cisse answered softly, carefully minding his mood—unaware the choice was hers. He nodded lightly, casually.
"I hope even the great sun thinks so. So, what flowers does Cisse like?"
"Pardon?"
Her round eyes filled with bafflement. Flustered by his sudden question.
"Or lend a knee to this poor man just feeling fatigue."
Michael Aires smiled gently, calmly awaiting reply. His mind flashed flowers, necklaces, rings, earrings—repeating.
As impulsive as the opera, yet utterly satisfying.
Thus, resigned, he followed her light steps to a garden bench corner.
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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