54 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper
Shattered Glass Slipper Shards 54
==========
Someone said.
True refinement appears at mealtimes.
I, too, agree with his words. Now that my guard is down before delicious food, it is indeed a good time to observe the other person.
From the trivial habit of picking up cutlery to the series of actions taken to pick up food, what could more nakedly reveal the other person's true nature?
In the past, I strove relentlessly to shed the stain of my origins as a street girl. I wanted to be more aristocratic than anyone else.
But no matter how consciously I tried, I couldn't help but miss the subtle tilt of my shoulders and the twist of my waist, the angle of my wrist holding the fork, in the fleeting moment of chewing meat.
People who had been eating this way since birth easily noticed this discrepancy. Cruelly, they quickly turned my mistakes into their own mockery.
The noble lords, who incorporated all sorts of refinement and etiquette even into the act of eating, did not want their dining table to be stained by my presence. Therefore, I was cast out from the table and subsequently isolated from future invitations.
The banquet hosted by the Dibenzel family was also a battlefield for gauging each other's refinement.
I suppressed a laugh that felt like it would burst, watching the ladies roll their eyes and exchange glances over every single one of my knife strokes, every finger movement of my salad fork.
These were manners I had learned in the past, to the point of spitting blood. Even if my body had become gaunt and lost its current beauty, the fruits of my painful efforts to avoid being ignored were now blooming brilliantly here.
“Madame de Lavalier is truly an amazing person.”
A moment later, a gasp-like whisper escaped someone's lips. I moistened my lips with cold water and softly denied it.
No, it was entirely me who made myself this way.
The Dibenzel family's dinner was superb. Each dish was meticulously prepared, subtly revealing the immense wealth this family possessed.
Ingredients from rare origins appeared one after another, drawing admiration from everyone. The seasoning of the food and the neat arrangement of the dishes were beyond reproach.
The ladies seated there all emptied their desserts with satisfied expressions. Even though they ate as little as a bird to maintain their ladylike elegance, they did not object to the excellent meal today. I was no different.
After the meal, personal time was given. The ladies gathered in the drawing-room, reading books, playing the piano and singing, or strolling around and engaging in small talk. Some were embroidering handkerchiefs. I was held captive by Irene and had to walk around the drawing-room with her.
“Lady Sissae, how is it? I hope today's invitation has been a respite for you.”
Respite. The word that touched my tongue felt very unfamiliar. At the same time, I felt a surge of nausea. To suggest respite in a place filled with cats like predators, ready to pounce on one's weaknesses, how contradictory!
Above all, the person who uttered these words was the main culprit behind this setup. Wasn't it you who was smiling, unlike the ladies who were scrutinizing me with wary eyes as if searching for prey? As if looking for something.
However, Irene's expression was very gentle as she spoke these words, and her eyes shimmered softly, as if showing sincerity.
As if my thoughts were a misunderstanding. The touch of her hand caressing my wrist was also so warm that I couldn't help but be surprised. Had it been the former Sissae, she might have been moved and completely deceived.
“Thank you for thinking so. Everything was truly fantastic. The jewelry I saw earlier and the dinner banquet, too.”
I replied with a feigned excited voice. I smiled as if I couldn't contain my joy.
My voice, pitched high, sounded like that of an immature young girl. Irene seemed quite pleased with this reaction, lightly stroking the back of my hand.
“Oh, I'm glad it pleased you, my lady. But there is much more to see, so it's best to prepare yourself in advance.”
“Oh my, what are you thinking of?”
“That's a secret.”
She winked and said in a playful tone. I deliberately mimicked a sulky voice and tugged at her sleeve.
“That's too mean. Please tell me.”
Irene de Dibenzel looked at me with wide eyes. Her gaze flickered between my face and the hand holding her sleeve.
The moment our eyes met, I realized my mistake and immediately closed my mouth, covering my face with both hands. As if trying to evade the situation.
However, my eyes, which couldn't be fully hidden by my fingers, trembled with anxiety and embarrassment. My pressed lips and flushed cheeks were also fully exposed.
This was the first slip-up shown by Cishe de Bishwaltz, who had maintained astonishing composure. It was the weakness Irene de Dibenzel had been so eager to find.
The street girl, who was essentially a spoiled child but was forced to act mature due to the eyes of others, was captured by my gaze.
Now, Irene, show me your reaction. I've given you the situation you wanted. How will you act? I was very curious to see how she would exploit this gap that appeared so naturally in an unexpected situation.
So, while acting, I slowly counted numbers in my head. One, two, three.
As soon as I counted to three, her hand descended upon my head. Irene's characteristic soft voice flowed into my ear at the same time.
“Lady Sissae is such a lovely girl.”
I removed my hands from my face and glanced at her, as if checking her reaction. Irene was smiling broadly, as if looking at something she cherished.
“So, don't be too afraid. I'm the type of person who doesn't fuss over trivial matters. So I hope Lady Sissae can think of me more comfortably. Etiquette and politeness can sometimes be like thorns on a rose, making people defensive. If that's difficult, you can think of me as your older sister. Was that an impolite remark?”
Sissae, who was originally a street girl, was an only child with no sisters. Although she now had a stepsister, Cishe de Bishwaltz did not seem close to Roena de Bishbalz, as seen even in the hunting grounds. Therefore, she must be very lonely.
Perhaps Irene thought of a way to win me over through this line of reasoning.
But of all things, 'sister'? What a ridiculous remark.
I found the triumphant look in her eyes laughable. She seemed to think I would be moved by her words and immediately obey.
“No. Not at all. I am simply overwhelmed…”
I wanted her to let down her guard just a little, caught up in this situation. Irene seemed to need a confidante who could reveal the inner workings of the Bishvarts Family, no, the every move of Roena de Bishbalz. That's why she was putting in so much effort, wasn't it?
However, my malice towards Roena was beyond imagination, which made me feel puzzled. It was excessive to be wary of a young lady who hadn't even debuted in society yet.
In the past, I was happy that there was one more person who disliked Roena, so I even enjoyed it when Irene used me to instigate conflict.
But now it was different. I needed to know her intentions for using me. So, I decided to faithfully play the role of an emotion-starved girl as Irene desired.
So, I grabbed the hem of her sleeve again and mumbled. I lowered my head as if very embarrassed to say this.
“Thank you for your kindness, my lady. Truly. I am sincerely grateful. So please, don't call me foolish.”
Irene de Dibenzel said.
“Of course.”
Her voice was as sweet as honey.
Although she suggested I think of her as a sister, our external relationship didn't change suddenly. She remained a generous and kind person to everyone—even if it was an unremovable mask—and made an effort to distribute her favor fairly.
She reigned as the queen of society, but her dominance and treatment were not coercive; she listened attentively to others' opinions.
Compared to the old foxes of high society, she was still at a child's level, but she was several steps ahead of her peers, a girl whose future was truly promising.
I was shown to my room late into the night. The second daughter of a baron from the Sorin region was assigned to the room next to mine; she was a lively girl with a very cute appearance.
As if born with an inherently cheerful disposition, she chattered the most among the group and sometimes startled others with her uninhibited laughter.
If I hadn't arrived, she probably would have continued to play the role of the group's younger sister—even though they were of similar age—with her innocence.
Fortunately, the daughter of Baron Beolin, who seemed to be her best friend, often restrained her impulsive behavior, which seemed to act as an excellent leash for the group. The problem was that this only happened during the day.
After changing into my pajamas with the help of a maid, I felt puzzled by a sudden knock. I had no one close enough to visit me personally at such a late hour.
However, when the door opened and Lady Sorin stood there in her lace pajamas, I couldn't help but let out a hollow laugh.
“Oh, please don't try to dissuade me like Lady Beolin. Sometimes you have to experience things like this.”
Lady Sorin climbed onto the bed, giggling. It was before I had even told her to come in.
Her agility, which could be mistaken for a knight's, made her personal maid, who followed her, shake her head. It was the look of someone watching a runaway foal.
I gestured for them to step back. Before they left, I didn't forget to warn them to keep their mouths shut.
The maids left, and the door quietly closed. I swallowed a rising sigh and approached Lady Sorin.
She was lying almost sprawled out on the bed. Her pajamas had ridden up, exposing her thighs, but she showed no signs of embarrassment. Instead, she met my eyes and giggled.
Her appearance made me think of her not as a lady from a good family, but as a thoughtless child playing in the marketplace.
“I've always wanted to talk to someone like this on a bed. But everyone here doesn't grant my requests. So I've always been upset.”
She spoke in a whispering voice, as if making a great confession, with a smile plastered on her face the entire time.
Her surprisingly unreserved demeanor reminded me of Roena. No, in a way, she seemed worse than Roena.
What could be scarier than an attitude of natural self-disclosure, as if ready to pour out everything?
Had Princess Irene not anticipated this situation?
