Shattered Glass Slipper Shards Episode 67
Fortunately, Madame de Châteauroux, or rather, Marieanne, didn't find my story boring or uncomfortable. On the contrary, she just stared at me with her beautiful eyes wide open.
A faint smile hung on her lips, redder than roses, and her softly relaxed face was becoming dreamily moist, as if recalling memories.
Especially at the part where I beat up a mischievous boy, she burst into laughter and nodded her head vigorously.
"That's right, I used to do that too. They always tried to touch my butt. They had such bad habits. Every time they did that, I would scream and kick them in the shins. I felt good whenever I saw them hopping around, clutching their shins. I only ate one barley bread a day, but I don't know how I had so much energy back then. Were you strong too, Young Lady? Enough to throw other boys around?"
"When I was young, I was the strongest in my group. So, when I got angry, I would grab their hair. I'd make my hands into claws like this. Once I grabbed a handful of hair and twisted my hand, even the toughest and strongest kids couldn't easily escape."
"Oh my, that's a very good method. Why didn't I know about this? I didn't know there was such an easy way, and I just kept kicking their shins until my feet hurt. You know how it is. When you walk around in wooden shoes, your big toes swell up and you can't stand it."
"I was barefoot. I didn't even have money to buy wooden shoes. My mother and I took turns wearing the only pair of shoes we had at home. It was bearable until autumn, but it was too hard in winter."
"Oh my, is that so."
Chatoul trailed off, sounding regretful. It was like a scene from a comedy, the way she raised her hand as if she was sorry for touching a wound, then put it back on her lap. Her smile disappeared, and her face was full of pity.
I found it hilarious that a prostitute was worrying about my childhood. Even if I had a terribly poor childhood, how could it be worse than selling my body?
But what was clear was that, contrary to rumors, she had a very kind nature and could understand and feel other people's pain to some extent, even if only a little.
I smiled gently and expressed my gratitude for her pity. When Chatoul saw that I was showing an attitude that I had bravely overcome my unhappy childhood, her face brightened and she continued to speak.
The topic she chose was 'playing'. The only playing I had done was running around the streets, but Chatoul knew a surprising number of games and seemed to get along well with children.
I had watched other children playing while going out to fetch water in the past, so I could understand what she was saying quite well, and I even chimed in wonderfully.
Madame de Châteauroux seemed quite satisfied that we could communicate. The fierce cat I had seen when we first met was nowhere to be found, and the fact that she was gradually letting her guard down and starting to approach me was proof of that.
She hadn't moved her seat, but her body was leaning so close to me that her cleavage was fully exposed, clearly representing her mood. Her guard was crumbling.
I was surprised that my conversation with her was unexpectedly enjoyable and not so vulgar as to make me frown.
It was amazing that even she, who was called the greatest prostitute with a lewd nature, still had such a pure side.
Chatoul, or rather, Marieanne, was telling her story with her eyes sparkling like a young girl.
I nodded in response, and occasionally added interjections to praise her. Chatoul seemed to be in a good mood just because I was listening to her.
She stopped talking to drink some tea, and then suddenly came to sit next to me and held my hand tightly. And she said in an admiring voice, as if exclaiming,
"What should I do? I like Young Lady very much. No one has ever listened to me sincerely until now. Even His Majesty sometimes looked at me with annoying eyes. But not Young Lady. Don't you find my words funny? Don't you feel they are vulgar? Don't you think they are shallow? How can you listen so well?"
"Because I like Marieanne. Is that offensive?"
At my words, Marieanne covered her face with both hands and shook her head.
"Oh my. Offensive? How could you say such a thing. Tell me more, because it sounds good."
"Yes, Marieanne. I think you are very amazing. You are the only woman favored by the Emperor, and the woman among women who leads the Empire's trends. In fact, no one in society could have devised such a bold design as Marieanne. That's innovation. That's why I introduced Chouasel to you."
"Do you really think so?"
"Of course. The brilliance to see the future and the boldness to push forward with your choices are something that cannot be seen in anyone else. It's truly courageous. Don't you think so? Am I wrong?"
"No. You're right. Bischwartz Young Lady, you are the only one in this palace who truly understands me. Oh, why did you only appear now? Oh my, I really don't know whether to call this a tragedy or a comedy."
"It's a comedy. I dare to guarantee it."
"His Majesty was right. He said that Young Lady would be a good friend of mine. His Majesty is truly generous, wise, and intelligent. I'm so happy that I can't breathe. What was Young Lady's name again?"
"It's Sissae, Marieanne."
"Can I call you Sissae?"
I smiled and answered in a soft voice.
"From the moment you told me to call you Marieanne, I have always been Sissae to you."
"Oh, thank you. Thank you so much!"
Goodness. Is this woman really Madame de Châteauroux, the Emperor's favorite concubine who is said to verbally make fun of the Empress?
She was repeating the word thank you in a nasal voice, as if she was crying.
I looked at her hands, which were still holding mine, and tried to hide my awkward expression.
If she was pretending to be an innocent girl to lower my guard, she would truly be a great actress.
Considering the rumors that most prostitutes play various roles to please their customers.
Anyway, she chattered like a bird, and she didn't think of letting go of my hands, which she had grabbed again before talking.
But our time was limited. Since Chatoul was at the center of power as the Emperor's favorite concubine, there were many people who wanted to meet her.
There were more than a dozen scheduled visits for today alone. When a maid carefully opened the door and came in to announce that the interview time was approaching, reciting the name of a noble, Chatoul pouted and complained.
But she couldn't just cancel the appointments without a clear reason.
"You'll come again tomorrow, Sissae, right?"
"If Marieanne wants me to."
In fact, visiting tomorrow meant not only receiving the Emperor's approval, but also appeasing the dissatisfaction of the nobles who were unhappy with this, but I pretended not to know and gave her the answer she wanted.
Marieanne was so happy with just that, she quickly took out one of the jewel pins she was wearing and pinned it in my hair, smiling shyly.
"This is to commemorate our friendship. Please accept it."
"Yes. I will gratefully accept it."
"We'll definitely meet tomorrow, right?"
"Yes."
If His Majesty allows it. These words were stuck in my throat, but I swallowed them down. Because I knew very well that it wouldn't be an easy meeting.
And as expected, it was only after a week that I was able to meet her again with difficulty.
That was only possible because Chatoul burst into tears in front of the Emperor and served him diligently for a whole day and night.
Anyway, during the week before we met again, I was a popular person to everyone.
I was at the center of the rumors, and from the day I met Chatoul, I received dozens more invitations for tea time.
Needless to say, Madame de Lavalier sent me a scolding letter. Also, Dibenzel Young Lady's letter was to find out what happened in the interview with Chatoul.
According to rumors, some people were laughing at the meeting between her and me as an alliance of those of humble origins, and others were wary of what the Bishvarts Family was trying to do through Chatoul.
Most of them were afraid of becoming like Count Felice. However, all these precautions were useless, because although the Bishvarts Family had the title of Count, their influence was extremely low compared to other Count families.
They could not exercise strong political power with wealth earned through commerce alone, and even the actions of their previous ancestors were aimed at living a thin and long life.
Even the other families that maintained friendships with the Bishvarts Family were mostly neutral and passive, and decisively, the delicate and affectionate heart of my adoptive father was too weak to stir through the jungle of politics.
It was fortunate that Madame de Lavalier exerted great influence in society and took care of him, otherwise he would have become just another ordinary noble family.
What good is it to have the Knight of Clear Hearing? What good is it to have a lovely daughter who is praised by everyone?
My adoptive father was a person far from ambition. He was always serious and eager to comply and not get angry.
If I were to say that bringing my mother into the family and taking her side was the greatest act of rebellion in his life, or rather, showing the dignity of a Count, would you understand him? Of course, he is always a difficult and scary Count to those he employs.
Anyway, when I returned from my meeting with Marieanne, my adoptive father quietly called me to his study and asked me delicately if it was difficult and what we talked about.
This was an act based on fear of other people's eyes rather than a rebuke for meeting the Emperor's prostitute.
I explained in the calmest tone possible that there was nothing special and that I was just trying to please her.
My adoptive father didn't exactly look like he believed everything I said, but he looked a little relieved at my words that there wouldn't be any major problems.
"Anyway, my dear, I hope you remember what is attached to your name."
"Of course. I am always reminded of who I am. So, I promise you, I will not act rashly."
"Then that's good. You must be very tired. Go and rest."
"Yes."
I went to my adoptive father, kissed him on the cheek, and whispered. Don't overdo it.
Whether those words had an effect or not, his wrinkled brow straightened out like a freshly ironed, stiff cloth.
"Thank you."
"No. Well, I'll see you at dinner."
I smiled and greeted my adoptive father. And I quietly opened the door.
