38 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper
Shattered Glass Slipper Shards, Episode 38
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Roena's maids had also disappeared with her, so only Perinnil, her attendant, and I remained in the room.
Calm always follows the storm. Whether it is solace or mourning, I do not know, but it undeniably grants the same silence to all.
This room was filled with such stillness. A state of absolute silence where not even a breath could be heard. I thought of it as 'peace'.
"You should be grateful."
I said, leaning back comfortably with a relaxed posture. My movements became much freer without eyes watching. A dull ache was spreading from my straightened back.
Perinnil, who had been rubbing her cheek with a frown, her eyes wide with surprise, as if Roena's slap had hurt quite a bit, asked,
"What are you talking about?"
"If it were any other young lady, she would have cut off your wrists."
"Oh my! I should be thankful it ended with just a slap to the cheek."
Perinnil pouted, muttering as if complaining. She looked like an angry cat, growling and baring its teeth.
"You're quite insolent."
"Please don't say such frightening things. I'm doing my best."
"Your best at what?"
To my question, Perinnil pulled the corners of her lips up, a radiant smile blooming.
"Because I wanted to be alone with you, Miss. Roena is not quite ready yet. So, I tried a little trick. Don't you like it?"
"Lies."
I stood up. And I spoke softly in a gentle tone towards Perinnil, whose face was contorted with bewilderment.
"You don't have to come next time. I'll speak to Mother for you."
Madame de Lavalier always told me.
"Hide the emotions in your eyes. Otherwise, others will think of you as very insignificant and foolish."
I thought that was a quibble. How could they read a person's inner thoughts with just their eyes, as if they were gods? I thought it was ridiculous.
But now, returning, and in this situation facing Perinnil, I understood why Madame had said that to me.
"Miss?"
She said she used a trick because she wanted to be alone with me? And asked if I didn't like it? Insolent wench. She should hide the emotions in her own eyes. How dare a mere prostitute look down on someone?
Perinnil was gravely mistaken. She was a woman who could be replaced by anyone else at any time. So, ignoring her calling out to me with a flustered face, I left the room. I lamented my own foolishness for wanting to learn something from someone like her.
As I walked down the corridor, a maid hurried towards me and greeted me. She was one of those who attended my mother.
"Her Ladyship is calling for you."
I frowned and said to the maid.
"Tell her I'm not feeling well suddenly and cannot visit her right away. Mother will understand."
If I went to see Mother, I would surely be met with Roena, her face flushed crimson, sobbing. Then, naturally, I would have to comfort her and offer her a handkerchief. How absurd. For whose benefit would I be comforting her! There was no reason to participate in such a pathetic scene.
Most importantly, I had no desire to soothe my mother's anxiety, which stemmed from her calling Perinnil back out of stubbornness and hurting Roena's feelings.
Whether she was trying to curry favor with my stepfather, or it was cheap pity born from her own kindness, I did not know, but Mother seemed to genuinely dote on Roena. Margo said so.
Yes, it was fine to call Perinnil back out of defiance towards Madame. But why involve Roena? Even if she had Madame's permission, she should have stopped it with a stern and firm attitude.
The only person for whom Roena's innocent kindness was not permitted was a 'prostitute'. Like everyone else in high society, Roena viewed prostitutes as impure and dirty beings.
"Ah, right."
I turned around and said to the maid who was about to return the way she came, "Perhaps it would be better to offer Mother a perfume mixed with geranium."
Geranium was a rose-scented medicinal herb used to treat burns and wounds. Since Perinnil's touch had landed on my body, I should at least apply medicine. That way, everyone would understand her ridiculous act of jumping around as if she had been burned.
The maid looked at me with a peculiar gaze. Her expression clearly showed she had no idea what I was talking about.
"Do as you're told."
"Yes."
I suppressed the urge to burst into laughter and turned away. The image of Roena's face when she saw the water infused with geranium was so vivid that I couldn't help but smile.
However, if I had known Roena would come looking for me, I would not have made the foolish mistake of returning to the room so quickly.
I was lost for words at Roena's gaze, which looked at me with worried, tear-reddened eyes.
Her appearance was disheveled. Her flushed nose, swollen eyes, and the sweat-beaded forehead with her hair in disarray told me what she had been doing just moments before.
Her tear-stained cheeks were as comical as a clown's. I swear to God, the only time she had ever been seen in such a disheveled state was after my stepfather's death.
"Are you alright?"
Roena asked. Her voice, thick with tears, sounded like a boy going through puberty. If I closed my eyes and listened, I would mistake her for someone else. She blushed, embarrassed by the rough sound that came from her own mouth.
But then she opened her mouth and asked me again. Her words were filled with pure concern, layered with worry.
"I heard from the maid. You suddenly felt unwell. So I was worried..."
Her fingers, hidden beneath the lace, twitched as if wanting to grasp something. Her eyes, cast down to avoid meeting mine, trembled, conveying an inexplicable tension.
"Why?"
"Why? Because you're my sister..."
I quickly interrupted her, saying dismissively,
"Oh, really? I had no idea."
"Sissae, please. I just came because I was worried about you. So please don't be so sharp with me."
"Is that so? But what can I do? Unlike your worries, I'm perfectly fine. I'm just a little tired. I'll be alright if I rest."
Roena's complexion paled at my words. She hesitated, her lips moving as if to say something, then let out a sigh. She bit her lip and unconsciously began to sway slightly, her furrowed brow subtly revealing her concern.
After a moment, she asked in an even more cautious tone, "Is it perhaps because of that prostitute?" Her lowered gaze flickered coldly, as if confirming the question she had just uttered.
I answered by staring intently at Roena. I found it very strange that she treated me as if nothing had happened, expressing her concern, as if she had forgotten the previous incident.
Though it is said that the boundary between shame and composure lies within one's own heart, Roena's dividing line was incomprehensibly lenient towards herself. Her clear eyes were so pure they seemed to reflect everything. Just like how only the person who frets over past events becomes a fool.
It is indeed a strange thing. I was clearly hurt and suffered damage because of her, yet if I insisted on receiving a proper apology, I would be labeled as narrow-minded and ill-intentioned.
Even a casual "I'm sorry" spoken in a flippant tone would suffice as an apology, and everything would be concluded.
Some say to let go of the past like water flowing downstream and focus on the present. Then they taunt, "Are you satisfied by cornering Lady Roena like that to get an apology?"
How absurd. Why should others dictate whether I should forgive the hurt I received, or judge my emotions and bring them to an end? This was something I could not comprehend, even now.
Someone once said, "When one enters high society, one must put their emotions on display like goods in a shop." But even so, my feelings are not cheaper than Roena's!
Therefore, I wonder, "Why does Roena, both in the past and now, so easily overlook the things I've carefully stored away and act so innocently?"
It's the same now. I bring up the hunting grounds, and Roena brings up the recent incident. I am interested in unfinished business, while she is interested in what has just begun.
With such conflicting perspectives and different ways of thinking, smooth conversation is impossible. One person must yield, but I have no intention of doing so, nor do I know any reason why I should.
The sycophants who fawn over her are enough for Roena.
When I fell silent, Roena began to speak freely. She seemed to think my silence meant agreement with her words.
"She lacked basic etiquette, was extremely rude, and, well, vulgar. So, therefore, I..."
"Do you want to ask if she made me lead your hand to touch her chest, like she did to you?"
Roena lowered her head, her face flushed crimson.
"She didn't do anything of the sort. Roena, she was very kind and gentle."
At my words, Roena immediately lifted her head and retorted. Her face, a mixture of shame and anger, screamed as if in a fit. Her eyes were filled with confusion, unable to believe what she had heard.
"B-but she's a prostitute."
"Yes, she is a prostitute. But she came to teach us something."
"Sissae. That's not true. There's nothing we can learn from a prostitute."
"Then why did you meet her? What was the reason for your attendance?"
"It was for you, Sissae. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have even entered that room. I wouldn't have insisted on receiving education from Aunt."
"For me?"
"Yes."
Roena nodded, speaking in a serious tone. Her gaze, shining directly at me, sparkled brilliantly with conviction in her own beliefs.
It was a terrible conviction that, while she considered it a favor, was no different from vile arrogance to me.
"Perhaps, while implicitly thinking Sissae was doing well, I left room for 'what ifs.' I didn't trust you. That's why the previous incident happened. If I hadn't been indifferent to you, it wouldn't have happened. So I won't do that again. I won't stand by and watch you. I promise."
Something surged within my chest. My fingertips grew cold, my vision turned white, and my body began to tremble.
I felt as if I would stomp my feet and scream madly at any moment. No, I had to. The scream that rose to my throat was turning into poison, threatening to break me.
Why do you keep testing me?
