Ch#273
Fragment of the Broken Glass Slipper Side Story 3 Episode 2
"What an extraordinary woman. Who could've guessed she'd pull off something like this? Did she have such confidence she wouldn't get caught?"
"Probably. She fooled everyone around her perfectly for three years—surely a funeral is child's play. Anyway, she timed the death impeccably. One year was too short, five too long. She used her head well."
"Isn't it because of Sir Ailes? Without him, she never would've let go of Rade Vishwaldz until he died of old age. She'd have clung to him with greedy hands."
"I'm not so sure? That wouldn't have been easy."
"Haven't you heard the rumor?"
"Rumor?"
"That the late Emperor promised to give her House Bischwaltz in writing. That's why the current Emperor just watches her actions."
"Heavens. Is that true?"
"That's how she could swallow the count's house with a mere phantom in front."
"Astonishing. So even if Sir Ailes marries the Countess, it changes nothing?"
"Who knows? How could we know his thoughts? The only certainty is that fools eyeing House Bischwaltz will swarm the Countess."
"Society will be quite lively from now on."
As they said, the beautiful young widow freshly bereaved was bound to become a temptation to all.
Already, young men crowded around the Countess, vying for her attention.
One couldn't tell what reaction they sought from the woman whose face was veiled in black lace, but the males fanning their tail feathers like desperate peacocks were pitiably frantic.
"These young pups..."
A middle-aged noble clicked his tongue softly, glancing far off at Sir Ailes. He'd expected the knight to stand by her side as if natural, yet he kept his distance. Apparently minding etiquette at her husband's funeral. It wouldn't last beyond today, though.
Moments later, the toll of mourning bells signaled the funeral's end. Nobles swarmed out like they'd been waiting, boarding carriages and departing. Only Countess Bischwaltz and Sir Ailes remained to guard the grave till the end.
Thus, another person vanished from everyone's minds.
***
Society expected Sir Ailes and the Countess to marry swiftly. With the obstructive Count dead, they no longer needed to mind others' eyes.
Yet contrary to all predictions, three months passed after the Count's funeral with no marriage proposal.
It wasn't due to waning affection. An unexpected obstacle hindered them.
In truth, Michael Aires had pondered proposal methods several times daily since the funeral. With the phantom Rade Vishwaldz gone, he saw no reason to keep the Aires name.
Of late, more men approaching Cisse factored in too.
But no matter how he racked his brain, nothing came to mind. A sword-specialized man's mind lacked finesse.
Imagination swelled only in clueless youth.
Thus, steeling himself uncomfortably, he sought Duchess Rosan. He'd briefly considered his elder brother but realized the futility, turning to his friend instead.
Lysette Rosan wore an utterly fed-up expression at Michael Aires's visit. He never sought her first unless it involved Cisse, making the reaction natural.
Yet she didn't dislike advising on Cisse. Quite the opposite—it was highly beneficial. She liked Cisse too.
However, her efforts yielded only boasts laced with scoldings or smug romance lectures.
Michael Aires showed no courtesy or respect toward her.
Rosan suddenly thought she deserved thanks from this arrogant knight. Amid intensifying rivalry with Lady Debenzel, she needed to bolster her pride somehow—or she'd crumble.
Thus, she demanded gratitude before serving tea to her longtime friend.
"Say 'thank you' first."
Michael Aires furrowed his brow as if hearing nonsense, immediately muttering "You're mad." A hint of contempt laced his voice.
Rosan sighed at his brazen attitude.
Why were the men around her so shameless?
She itched to pinch those cheeky cheeks hard and yank sideways.
The Ice Knight waddling with puffed cheeks would be the ultimate laughingstock in society—for quite some time.
Of course, her wrists would be seized first. Thus, mere fantasy.
Swallowing her thoughts, she spoke gently to Michael. Her friends—Emperor included—were idiots at basic etiquette, requiring patient teaching. Unfortunately, both reveled in self-importance.
"Considering all the help I've given you, thanks alone fall short. But as a friend, I'll settle for that. Sir Ailes, no aid in the world is free. Even among close allies."
"Duchess Rosan, some friendships demand no price. I believe ours transcends such banalities—a profoundly noble bond."
"Oh, great knight. Regrettably, I'm quite worldly and weak to flattery. Especially from the famed Ice Knight friend."
"What if said knight refuses thanks out of pride?"
"Then a farewell. Our bond would end buried deep like Count Bischwaltz. A relationship of disappointment and despair? Hardly ideal. Above all, I befriend no shameless souls."
Aires's cheeks flushed faintly. Finally realizing his rudeness to Rosan. He hesitated, then murmured in a crawling tone.
"Thanks."
"Ears must be tired lately—didn't hear. Dear Sir Ailes, once more?"
"I said thanks."
"Impolite words are as good as none."
Her feigned ignorance, eyes downcast, was utterly infuriating. But considering his past offenses, this was mild.
Michael Aires sighed softly at his friend's antics. Then, bowing politely as to any noblewoman, he expressed gratitude.
"I thank you for your efforts on my behalf. And revere your patience enduring my rudeness. Henceforth, I'll respect and honor you—pray forgive me."
"Truly?"
"Yes, I swear by my name."
Rosan let out a hollow laugh at his words.
"Swearing by a name soon to change—have you no shame, sir?"
Michael replied brazenly, face straight.
"You'll forgive anyway?"
"Me?"
"Yes."
A brief staring contest ensued. Fierce glares clashed like battle. Childish war without surrender.
Rosan raised the white flag first. She averted her eyes, pressing her dry ones. A sigh escaped her parted lips—prior actions felt foolish.
Not a toddler—what was this?
Thus, summoning a maid for tea declared a grand truce to the stare-down.
"What foolishness. We haven't done this since childhood."
"Indeed. Childish."
"...Now I don't want to forgive you."
Fragment of the Broken Glass Slipper
Novel by Yeolmae
Author: Yeolmae
Publisher: Kwon Tae-wan, Woo Cheon-je
eBook Publication Date: 2024-05-07
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.
