Ch#259
Fragment of the Broken Glass Slipper Side Story 1 Episode 4
Social gossip spread faster than light. It was because of people who loved to talk. Nobles, usually lazier than anyone, became the most diligent when it came to gossip. They seemed to live for rumors alone.
This time's gossip centered on Countess Bischwaltz and Sir Ailes attending the opera together. The focus was on the Countess, with harsh criticism about how, not long into her marriage, she was already meeting her former lover.
Almost no nobles in the capital lacked lovers, but jealousy-filled hearts turned a blind eye to that.
Such sentiments peaked when it became known that Sir Ailes had summoned the empire's finest jeweler to his residence.
In truth, Cisse de Bischwaltz could actively navigate high society solely because Duchess Debenzel and Duchess Rosan were her friends. Without them, she would surely have faded into obscurity like other young ladies.
They might have subtly excluded her, citing her birth status.
Of course, her position as Sir Ailes's lover was a tremendous backing too, but high society was a world where mere name value alone couldn't ensure survival. Men's and women's affections were like fragile glass cups, easily shattered at any time.
Thus, people thought she was incredibly fortunate to have caught the eye of the two women at the pinnacle of society.
Some tried to befriend Cisse, believing it would win favor with the Duchesses.
But Cisse kept a proper distance from those who had mocked and insulted her in the past, refusing to mingle, and when necessary, cleverly used Duchess Debenzel's circle to isolate them.
The women, suddenly pushed out of gatherings without knowing why, complained of injustice, but no one reached out to them.
Duchess Debenzel's overwhelming favor and Lady Sorin's displays of affection (monetary) already positioned Cisse as the second-in-command of the group.
Thus, young women without other backing desperately avoided falling out of Cisse's sight. Even though she rarely attended gatherings herself.
In the midst of this, when Duchess Debenzel proposed the debutante ball and it was revealed that Cisse Bischwaltz was turning eighteen this year, jealousy inevitably exploded. How could it not, when she was sure to be the star of the ball?
No other debutante this season was as famous as her.
Was that why? Noble ladies pursed their lips whenever Cisse de Bischwaltz was mentioned during tea times. Especially those whose sisters or daughters were debuting.
It was talk that could spell disaster if it reached Duchess Debenzel's—no, Countess Bischwaltz's—ears, but boiling envy made them risk it.
"Have you heard? Countess Bischwaltz is barely eighteen. She married without even debuting. How ridiculous. Even if it was His Majesty's command, what was the rush? She must look down on society to do that."
"It's because of Count Bischwaltz. He needed to marry her to claim the title. Fine, whatever, but how long after marriage is she already cheating with Sir Ailes? Does she not know the word shame? No wonder she acts so vulgarly. Like mother, like daughter."
"What about her mother?"
"Oh, you didn't know? The Countess's mother—the previous Countess. There were rumors she was a prostitute. Apparently, she seduced the late Count on purpose to enter the family. That's why Madam de Lavalier disapproved. And the rumors that the young lady she bore earlier was another man's child stemmed from that."
"Heavens, really? It wasn't just idle talk?"
"Of course not. Why else would she meet Sir Ailes without a care for others' eyes? Bloodlines can't be fooled. Sir Ailes is just pitiable, deceived by such a woman. With so many more graceful and chaste ladies around, why her? Calling in a jeweler to the house says it all."
"Why's that?"
"Think about it. Why summon a jeweler? To prepare a gift for Countess Bischwaltz's debutante, obviously. And not just any jewels, but ordering that precious alexandrite? It's blatant. Her hair and eyes are brown."
"No way! That expensive gem? For a woman like that?"
"I heard from a connection with the jeweler: not just a necklace, but earrings, bracelets—almost everything wearable. Isn't it outrageous?"
"...She's undeserving, but a bit enviable. Who else gets such precious jewels from a lover?"
"Exactly why it's absurd. It doesn't suit her at all. Well, thanks to her, alexandrite's value might drop, so that's something."
Some mocked the rumors that House Aires called the jeweler for a Marchioness, dismissing it. Even if lovesick, the Ice Knight wouldn't—no way his personality changed so easily.
Unfortunately, it was indeed Michael Aires who summoned the jeweler, ignoring his family's stunned stares as he fervently discussed with the craftsman.
Over two-thirds of his saved salary vanished, but he was frustrated he couldn't spend more.
"Brother, I think something's wrong with your head."
Even his famously gentle brother questioned his mental health.
Not wrongly so—since rumors linked him romantically with Lady Bischwaltz, his brother had grown stranger.
It was shocking enough he'd cling to a married woman, sacrificing his pride, when tales circulated of people cowed by his cold nature into tears.
After four months locked in the palace working, he bolted straight to her—the gossip that floored people.
"Coming home after so long and the first thing you do is call a jeweler? I thought you'd spend time with us."
Michael Aires sneered at his brother's worried gaze, offering no reply.
Instead, he stared seriously at the letter in hand. It was from Lysette Rosan, densely listing gifts she'd received for her own debutante.
A normal person might blush in embarrassment at the repeated snubs, but his brother was unfazed. Not his first time.
He even found his brother's behavior endearingly cute.
"Anyway, I'm asking because it worries me, but was that 'Michael Bischwaltz' you mentioned before not a joke?"
Once, at a family dinner, Michael Aires had casually said in a light tone, "My surname might change. To Bischwaltz." Adding he'd quickly resign his vice-captain position—back then, vice-captain.
The shocking declaration made forks drop and dry coughs erupt like a plague. The quiet, elegant dinner turned chaotic for the first time in House Aires history.
In noble society, second sons got little unless meriting notice—usually baron by name, living idly. None had so blatantly declared joining another house.
The Marchioness had trembled, seeking headache pills. Only Marquis Aires and Michael stayed calm.
He'd looked at his spitting image son and said, "If you won't regret it, do as you wish." Michael nodded gratefully.
His brother later tried persuading, but as always, couldn't sway Michael Aires.
"Didn't you let her go at the victory banquet?"
"Brother, you seem awfully interested in my love life. Most grateful."
Michael neatly folded the read letter, placing it on the table, speaking coolly.
"You watched and imitated me, didn't you? Can't help being interested. Embarrassed thinking that's how you saw me."
"Can't it end at mere curiosity? Or advise for your brother's sake."
"Advice?"
"Like the gift you sent sister-in-law before."
His brother's face twisted oddly. No way his brother said that—unless hallucinating. Or truly mad. Overwork must've broken his mind.
"If I'm not mistaken, you mean filling the entire room with flowers?"
"Yes."
"You're doing that too?"
"..."
"We should call the physician..."
"Brother."
"No, you wouldn't jest. So, like me? But if she sneezes from flower scent, backfire."
"She won't. I brought flowers every sickbed visit."
"R-right. I see."
His brother trailed off awkwardly. Michael Aires with flowers— he'd laughed it off as absurd before. Now embarrassed recalling dismissing daily rumors as ghost stories. All true. He shivered, coughing dryly.
"Ahem, good then. Anyway, surprising you seek advice on this."
"Indeed. Thought I'd never heed yours."
"..."
"Brother?"
Michael frowned at his brother suddenly pressing temples, sighing.
"No, your consistency astounds. You don't show her this side too, right?"
"If useless talk, please leave."
"...Doing well, I see. But remember scorning me for 'embarrassing' when I filled your sister-in-law's room?"
"True then. But now, seems not bad. Her waking to a flower-filled room. Like sister-in-law, she'll be happy."
Good lord—his brother wanting to make another happy! Mouth agape.
Clutching racing heart, he summoned a maid for strongest liquor. Couldn't converse sane.
He downed it as it arrived, ignoring Michael's pitiful gaze.
"So, know her favorite flower?"
Michael recalled her saying roses in the flower-filled garden post-opera, asked casually. Her voice sweetly urging him to rest head on her lap—how sweet!
"Lucky. I added a heartfelt letter."
"I see. Continue."
"Then fine dining, then theater."
"Can't for debutante day—sending flowers."
"Jewels ordered earlier are debutante gift?"
"Yes."
"Pair with flowers then. Rare gems—she'll love."
"Indeed. Thanks for advice."
"No big deal. But Mel, really becoming Bischwaltz?"
Michael's eyes narrowed. He sighed at his flustered brother. His kind brother over-loved family, meddling pointlessly.
Torture for interference-hating Michael.
"Brother's tired from my long absence. Won't you consider this brother?"
"But Mel!"
"You'll do that? Truly grateful."
At Michael's firm tone, brother shut lips at cold eyes. Recalled his filthy temper.
Adult now, polite—but childlike, he'd smashed everything madly. 'Freakout' embodied visually—performance art.
Others saw Ice Knight as cool gentleman; to him, brother was scary beast suppressing displeasure.
Swallowing dryly, he forced harmless smile. Only three could tame dog-like Michael: father Marquis Aires, Emperor, loving mother.
...Soon four?
"Fine. Rest. Talk later."
"No later."
"Mel!"
"Brother. I know your care, but my life. No right to interfere."
"Serious?"
"Yes."
"Even with honor in ruins?"
"Why care? Vile tongues wag briefly. Am I shaken by that?"
"Right. What more to say?"
Brother sighed, rising. No bending those eyes—even father, mother couldn't. Much less him.
Ultimately, persuade the captor—but wise, he knew overreach, erased thought.
Love fades like paper; Michael would come to senses. Accept then generously. For now, respect choice.
"Rest well. Oh, recommend tight-lipped florist? Where I bought. Very discreet."
"Yes, please."
"I'll arrange for your office tomorrow."
If this romance... Brother closed door, pressing throbbing head. Tell maid for headache pills.
His face etched worldly worries. Utterly depressed.
***
Michael Aires had extreme personality but was meticulous at work. Helping Emperor since Crown Prince days, he'd absorbed his diligence.
Slightly less nitpicky than Emperor, though.
Thus, preparing Cisse's gift, he sought no single advisor's folly. Gathered many opinions for perfection. Lysette Rosan ideal consultant.
"Sending gift with flowers? Romantic, but half-hearted."
She scoffed, shaking head. Pitiful tone: must teach this moodless man?
"Lately, those unpleasant stares."
"Earned. How one-dimensional men are. Sir Ailes, too obvious? No formula—yawn-worthy."
"Wise Lady Rosan, enlighten this fool? Curious your grand ideas."
She scoffed back.
"Dear Sir Ailes, what's expensive gift without time together? Busy workaholic. Cisse's patient—impressive. What's good in heartless man."
"Not for you, pining Emperor. Sane, wouldn't."
Lysette ground teeth, growling deeply. Furrowed brow showed rage held.
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
This book is published as an eBook by KWBOOKS under contract with the copyright holder.
Unauthorized reproduction of this book's content without the publisher's permission is prohibited by copyright law.