64 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper
Shattered Glass Slipper Shards Episode 64
==========
The carriage sped along the road and arrived at the Bishvarts Family's mansion. Until then, Sir Halberd had been staring at me without saying a word.
I tried to ignore his gaze and walked quickly into the mansion. I didn't want to think about what his blue eyes were thinking or what they meant by staring at me, so I tried to focus only on the dresses and jewelry I had bought today.
But until I fell asleep, I couldn't escape the intense gaze that Sir Halberd had sent me. His eyes, which seemed somehow melancholic and sad, yet filled with a firm resolve, were too enchanting.
In the days that followed, my room was very crowded with merchants selling things. It was to buy decorative feathers and ribbons for hats, and tassels to hang on shoes. In fact, I could have bought them at a store, but somehow I didn't feel like it.
Of course, it's not because Sir Halberd's words lingered in my mind. Rather than going to a crowded place and choosing things mindlessly, I wanted to examine the goods more carefully. It was a luxury I could afford because I had already chosen the most important dress and jewelry.
Perhaps because the family had given them a heads-up, the merchants brought quite a few items, and I was able to buy what I needed with the utmost care. Since they were things I would use to meet Madame de Châteauroux, I didn't spare any expense if I thought they were good.
Every time, Marie whispered as if tattling that Margo and some of the other maids were complaining about the merchants' visits.
They were making a fuss as if it was a big deal to go and meet a whore.
I gave a sly smile and told her to open the door wider so they could peek at what was coming in.
Marie carried out the order quite well, and she was busy boasting about what I had bought when all the maids were gathered together. She was now enjoying Margo's piercing gaze.
The merchants seemed very impressed with my spending. They fawned over me to an uncomfortable degree, picking out only the rather expensive items—yet not childish in design—and paying with gold coins. It was an obvious ploy to sell me even one more thing.
But again, I only bought what I needed and didn't even look at the other items. Marie, who was looking at the items with me, let out a sigh of regret, but that was all.
While the time to meet Madame de Châteauroux was getting closer, I was quite busy.
I controlled my eating to make my waist thinner and avoided the sun as much as possible for white skin. I massaged my whole body with luxurious fragrant oils and bought tea that was said to make my voice beautiful, drinking it several times a day.
Also, to have a conversation that would suit Madame de Châteauroux, I recalled past events and imagined meeting her dozens of times a day.
Madame de Châteauroux was a whore, so her mind was quite light. The thing she was best at was pleasing men.
This beautiful fox could very instinctively find her enemies and bite them roughly—such as with pillow talk—but she was almost ignorant of everything else.
The thing she hated most was literary pursuits like reading books and reciting poetry. She distinguished masterpieces by whether they felt pretty according to her standards, and she only recognized furniture to be brought into the palace as the work of a master craftsman if the patterns were ornate.
But she was second to none in making gossip that would set the social circles abuzz, in addition to choosing large, ornate jewels, and making sarcastic jokes about hateful people.
She was always surrounded by flatterers, who only answered 'yes' to Chatoul's words like puppets on strings.
No one understood her jokes—because there were many vulgar remarks—or made her laugh by countering them with wit that was just as good.
That's why when I met her, I wanted to be the only person who could talk to her at her level. Because there is no easier way to gain someone's trust than to be able to communicate with them.
But the whore Perinnil, whom I had asked my mother for, said that she was fully booked with scheduled clients and could not come—she was quite a famous whore and didn't move easily for just any amount of money—and you, who had been disgraced by Lavalliere when she was around, gladly accepted that excuse. It was a shame, but it couldn't be helped.
Madame Dobigné sent me the dress she had painstakingly made on the exact date. It was perfect in every way.
In particular, the waistline, which was tailored to fit perfectly as if she had anticipated the thinner waistline from the diet, was amazing.
Of course, as she had foretold, the chest area was cut low to reveal the cleavage, but it felt like it emphasized the beauty of a woman rather than being vulgar.
The harmoniously colored skirt swayed gracefully with every step, and the elaborate patterns embroidered on the cuffs were reminiscent of the latest trendy oriental designs. It was a dress that was different from the childish dresses of other young ladies, made of ribbons and frills.
I looked with satisfaction at Cis de Bishbalz, who stood on the boundary between a girl and a woman, exuding a strange atmosphere, in the mirror.
Her youthful face was strangely unsettling for a mature lady, and yet her plump breasts were too incongruous to be called a girl. The balance, which was precariously maintained without leaning to either side, was close to a sense of depravity.
Yes, this is it. When I put on the necklace sent from the jewelry store, something special that was missing was finally completed.
I smiled brightly at Marie and Seril, who were staring at me in a daze. The pathetic skeleton called Cis de Bishbalz had finally become human here.
That's how I finished preparing to meet Madame de Châteauroux.
On the day of the meeting, my mother came to help me prepare to go out with a look as if she was about to suffocate. She didn't even try to hide the eyes that were full of worry for me.
She seemed dizzy at the thought of sending her young daughter, who had not even made her debut in society, alone to the palace of that femme fatale.
Interestingly, my mother didn't notice that my outfit was too mature for a girl of my age, and that the design emphasized my chest and waist too much because of her worries.
Rather, she was restless that my eyes were drawn too clearly and might look fierce. So she had to repeat retouching and fixing my makeup several times.
As time passed, I, perfectly dressed with the things that had been prepared, left the room to go to the Imperial Palace.
I was with my mother. My mother walked with me to the front of the carriage, demanding that I answer 'yes' no matter what I heard. As if my head would be cut off otherwise.
I answered obediently that I would. My mother didn't seem to like my answer very much, but she couldn't dare to make the Emperor's beloved concubine wait, so she reluctantly put me in the carriage.
Since we left early in the morning, there were very few people to see me off. But it was certainly unpleasant that the head maid, Margo, didn't come out.
My mother frowned at Margo's absence and soon added a gloomy aura to her eyes as if she was hurt. I gently stroked the back of your hand as if to soothe you.
"Don't worry."
"Yes. Who else would I trust if not you?"
In fact, it was very amusing to see anxiety, fear, and resignation flash across my mother's face and disappear in an instant, but I didn't show it. I just kissed my mother on the cheek as if to reassure her and quickly closed the door of the carriage.
A moment later, the carriage slowly began to move with the coachman's urging. I opened the window of the carriage to say goodbye to my mother, and suddenly felt someone's gaze and turned my head.
"Sir Halberd?"
The Knight of Clear Hearing, who was dressed more lightly than usual as if he was going to morning training, stood in a corner of the building, staring blankly at the carriage I was in.
Why? What's the matter?
Everyone in the mansion knew that he did swordsmanship training early in the morning, so it was enough to think of his current appearance as such.
The problem was that the road Sir Halberd usually took was in the opposite direction from where he was standing now. So it couldn't be dismissed as a coincidence.
"Could he be seeing me off? No way. Why would he do that?"
Even the head maid, Margo, didn't come out.
But as if to mock my thoughts, he continued to stand there and look at me until I regarded him as a dot. It continued even when I passed through the main gate and closed the window of the carriage. As if he was really seeing me off. It was really incomprehensible.
Holding onto the troubled heart caused by Sir Halberd, the Imperial Palace I arrived at was still the same. As always, it was dazzling and beautiful from the outside, and had an overwhelming size that overwhelmed people.
I followed the Imperial Palace maid—who worked in Madame de Châteauroux's palace—who had come to greet me, and walked down the long corridor. People who passed by stopped and whispered softly when they saw me, but I pretended not to know.
The most they could say was, 'Is that Cis de Bishbalz?' Since Chatoul is light-mouthed, it's not strange that the entire Imperial Palace knows. But I never expected to meet an unexpected person here.
Oh, my God. Michael Ayres. What is this situation!
"Bischwartz Young Lady?"
I knew that Michael Ayres was working as a knight in the Imperial Palace, but I didn't know that he was someone I could run into so easily.
Above all, I have a history of firmly rejecting his advances! So I feel very uncomfortable pretending to know him in this place where many people's eyes are focused.
But Sir Ayres didn't seem to think so. He approached me with a very friendly attitude. His beautiful face was filled with a smile brighter than the sun.
"Hello, Sir Ayres."
"Greetings, Bischwartz Young Lady. It's the first time I've seen you since the Dibenzel Duke's residence. How have you been? What brings you to the Imperial Palace? Who are you here to see?"
He only spewed out what he wanted to say, as if he had forgotten that conversation was an act of exchanging stories with each other.
His steps were unreserved, as if the rumor that he always treated women with a businesslike attitude was a lie, and his voice was very soft.
If the maid who was guiding me hadn't been so surprised with her mouth wide open, I would have dismissed the rumors about him as nonsense.
