Translator: Nox

36 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper

Shattered Glass Slipper Shards Episode 36

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Had I taken a few steps after leaving her behind? I saw Margo staring intently at me, rudely so.

After being ordered to lay low by her adoptive father, she seemed to have stretched her limbs again after a period of quiet. No, even if she had remained still, the children under her would have been diligently working like worker bees, so it might have been a better time to observe the situation.

"Lady Roena..."

Despite seeing her after a long time, she still didn't even greet me. She only inquired about Roena's well-being.

"Don't say anything."

I cut her off before she could even open her mouth. Then, I asked Margo, whose face contorted in bewilderment.

"I wondered why Marie's head was held so high, but seeing you, I understand now. Are you afraid that if you bow your head to greet someone, the bones in your withered neck will snap with a 'tok'? Is that why you stand so stiffly?"

"Lady Sissae!!!"

"Get out of my way. How dare you block my path? Acting so shamelessly while holding the position of head maid. You should be ashamed."

If she was worried about Roena, she should have rushed to wipe her tears, not pick a fight. What a disgusting old woman. If I could, I would kick her withered legs and knock her over. But I forced myself to hold back.

Even if I were to push her over, this was not a flat corridor. It would be different on a sloping staircase or by a window, but here it was too safe and too conspicuous. Therefore, I had no choice but to postpone the opportunity.

Instead, I passed by her, chin held high like a cat reveling in victory. As if I didn't care at all about how she felt looking at me, or what she was thinking.

Upon returning to my room, I leaned back against the Reedeur. I then observed the two maids; Seril was filling a water basin for evening ablutions, and Marie was organizing various powders and lotions. I brushed my fingertips over the carpet laid on the floor for a moment, then suddenly looked up and called Marie.

"Marie."

"Yes, my lady."

"Do you know of a poultice made by mixing myrrh, rose water, and cactus pieces?"

Around this time of year in the past, new poultices, makeup techniques, and dyeing methods had emerged, becoming a topic of conversation for everyone. The Bishvarts Family would have received such news, and training would have been implemented among the maids. So, I casually tested her, but Marie seemed to have no idea.

"No, it's my first time hearing of it."

"Really? Then what about the story that if you sprinkle dried powder of butterfly flower and daffodil root on your hair, it turns blonde?"

"Was there such a thing?"

I grumbled in a petulant voice.

"What on earth do you know?"

Seril, who was pouring water into a silver kettle, spoke cautiously.

"Um, I've heard of a way to make hair blonde. It's apparently trending among young ladies these days."

I asked Seril.

"Where did you hear that?"

Seril hesitated slightly before answering.

"From the maids who attend Lady Roena."

I turned my gaze back to Marie. Marie stood there, her face pale as if she had been somewhat shocked, making the bite marks on her lips stand out vividly. Her trembling eyes conveyed her intense emotions, as if she couldn't believe it.

I chuckled lowly with a slightly mischievous expression, finding her appearance amusing.

"Oh, you poor thing. You seem to be completely ostracized. To the point where you don't even receive such basic information."

"Ah, my lady, I... I mean..."

"Yes, yes. I understand. Of course, I understand. How heartbroken you must be. But Marie."

I got up from my seat. I approached her, who stood frozen, and took her hand, speaking kindly.

"Perhaps I can help you. What do you think?"

I can guarantee that something very interesting might happen. If things go as I planned, that is.

I smiled at Seril, who was nervously rolling her eyes behind Marie. This matter required not only Marie but also Seril, who was cautiously watching me from behind, and she couldn't be more lovable.

In the world of maids, Margo is an intimidating queen. Ever since she took charge of their education in her position as head maid, she had intensified the severity of punishments, instilling fear in everyone.

This incredibly strict old fox would mercilessly punish anyone who didn't suit her taste, yet she showed great leniency to the maids she favored, which secretly drew resentment.

Those who pleased her and flattered her were assigned relatively comfortable duties, while those who didn't were relegated to menial tasks in places like the laundry room or the kitchen.

Marie was not one of the maids Margo doted on. She merely squeezed into the group favored by Margo, diligently trying to appease her, and as a reward for that, she was assigned to me.

Marie was not intelligent, but she possessed cunning to devise sly plans and the boldness to execute them. If she hadn't known the ways of nobles, she would have been utterly defeated, just like the schemes she had employed against me in the past.

Marie strove to be loyal to Margo, who was practically the de facto ruler of the maids, and this manifested as tormenting me.

Therefore, if I hadn't managed her and gained the upper hand, Marie would have continued to act as she always had, behaving arrogantly.

Marie's failure directly led to Margo's period of confinement. There was no greater shock for her followers.

Consequently, animosity arose towards Marie, who couldn't even handle simple tasks properly, and furthermore, she was ignored and ostracized. They had permanently banished her from their world.

Even Marie, who had endured the subtle currents among the maids, the whispers, and the subtle dismissals, couldn't bear the state of 'isolation.'

She was deeply saddened by the fact that information conveyed to Seril was not passed on to her. This was the fear of suddenly becoming 'alone' and anger towards the maids who discriminated between her and Seril.

"Perhaps..."

I moistened my lips with my tongue and whispered. At the same time, I gently patted her as if to comfort her.

"It might be jealousy."

"Jealousy?"

Marie's cheeks were wet with tears. I wiped her face with a handkerchief and nodded.

"Aren't you receiving various allowances, like rings and money, from me these days? You scatter them to other maids as if bestowing favors, so they're jealous."

I ordered Marie to become a shepherd, gathering the poor lambs scattered throughout the Bishvarts mansion. I asked for results regarding this multiple times a day, and she was diligently carrying out the order, if only out of fear of my nagging.

At first, only one or two listened, but now the number had grown considerably, forming a group that could be called 'Whose Faction.'

Therefore, from Margo's perspective, Marie, who was gathering maids, must have seemed bothersome. The fact that she was spending money from an unknown source lavishly would also have been suspicious. Perhaps she suspected I was behind Marie.

"But..."

"Marie, how would you feel if a maid suddenly started spending money like water or flaunting rings received from her lady?"

"I'd be envious. Yes, I think I would."

"That girl spends money generously on others but doesn't even show you any attention. How would you feel?"

"I'd be angry. I'd be upset too."

"At the same time, you'd think, 'I want a ring too, I want a bracelet.' Think about it carefully. Among the maids attending Roena, was there any girl who boasted about receiving something from her?"

At my words, Marie lowered her eyes and fell into deep thought. After a moment, she shook her head and smiled faintly, her face radiating a mixture of proud satisfaction and superiority.

"That's right. My lady, I think you're right. My goodness, how could they be so mean?"

"But you are different from them. You possess a kind and generous nature, don't you? So you can surely show mercy."

"But how?"

"Oh, Marie, it's a very simple matter. Think about what would happen if you threw a delicious pie to hungry people. Someone strong would get a big piece, and someone relatively weak would barely get crumbs. You should embrace those who eat the crumbs."

Up until now, Marie had been the one picking up crumbs of Margo's favor within that group.

But now that she was gone, who would take her place? It would be another maid, who, though ranked slightly higher than Marie, was similarly looked down upon.

Affection cannot always be fair, so there were always relative weaklings. Marie would become a pioneer who embraced those weaklings.

"Don't forget. Margo is very old and frail."

Marie replied with a bright, happy smile and a powerful tone. She then glanced at Seril, and within that brief glance, a complex mix of superiority, pride, and childish jealousy made me want to burst into laughter.

After speaking, I instructed Marie to make a cosmetic ointment for her face before sleeping.

This, which required the effort of mixing powder into rose water with fragrances and pearl powder, had to be stirred until it reached a viscosity thick enough not to flow easily before it could be spread on the face.

Known among young ladies for its effect of tidying the skin to a white complexion, it was now a common item used before sleep.

She looked at Seril with a slightly anxious expression and reluctantly moved her feet. I called out to Seril, who stood respectfully behind me, in a gentle voice.

"Seril."

"Yes, my lady."

"You have something to tell me, don't you? Unlike Marie, you seem to get along well with them... Am I wrong?"

Seril bowed her head sideways, avoiding my gaze. Her eyes trembled slightly, and her clasped hands showed blue veins popping out.

Seril must be in great conflict right now. Between Margo and me, Cis de Bishbalz. She certainly wouldn't be able to decide easily.

If she chose Margo, she would fear the pain I had inflicted, and if she chose me, she would be tormented by the thought of kind Roena's face.

I observed Seril with a relaxed expression, feigning nonchalance. No, I was actually nonchalant. I had never trusted Seril from the beginning.

Yes, I couldn't trust her. Wasn't she the one who had mocked me and laughed until the very end in the past? If I were to accept her after just a few instances of compliance, it would be no different from admitting I was a fool.

I was merely curious. What kind of residue my series of actions had left within her. Was it inescapable terror? Or a wound that could be overcome? Or perhaps, a bitter resentment strong enough to hide her emotions and wait for the right moment?