77 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper
Shattered Glass Slipper Shards 77
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It shouldn’t be a word I should receive, it’s truly not mine, so why is my heart pounding so much?
“Please, milady. Have mercy.”
The subtle urging is meltingly sweet. If Lustewin Halberd knows how his face looks to me right now and is using it like this, he’s the greatest swindler in the world.
Who in the world could not have mercy on this? I restrained myself from reaching out to that pitiful face dozens of times. I couldn’t hold on any longer.
So, I decided to run away. Like someone who saw a large beast, I timidly stepped back and turned around to run.
There was a hand that grabbed the shawl that had slipped off my shoulders from behind as I ran, but I shook it off and ran with desperate steps.
If I stopped like this, I felt like I would do as he wanted. I felt like I would return to the old Sissae. That fool who desperately craved a man’s affection.
No, I can’t. I absolutely can’t!! How far have I come now!! With what heart did I throw away the handkerchief!!
“Milady? Is something the matter?”
Marie looks at me with surprised eyes. I walked unsteadily to a large mirror without the energy to answer.
In it, a girl with a pale face is standing in a pathetic state. Her face, distorted by shock, looks pitiful enough to evoke sympathy.
I reached out with difficulty and leaned against the mirror. The cold feeling that touched my fingertips seems to bring me back to my senses.
“Milady? Where did you leave your shawl? What about the embroidery you were working on?”
I quietly called out to Marie, who was about to go out to find the things.
“Marie.”
“Yes, milady.”
“Go and ask my mother. Tell her that I was looking at the finished handkerchief and accidentally let go of it, and it flew away in the wind.”
“Yes?”
Leaving Marie, who was questioning me, I picked up a vase nearby. It contained the flowers that Michael Ayres had given me.
“Milady?”
As I loosened my grip on the hand that was holding it, the vase slipped and fell to the floor. The sound of shattering and debris scattered everywhere, eventually swallowing even Marie’s scream.
The floor, covered with flowers and shards, was very sticky, but it had a correspondingly poignant beauty.
I picked up a shard soaked in water and held it tightly in my hand. I could feel the blood gushing out with a burning pain.
“Kyaaak. Milady!!!”
Marie rushes over and opens my hand. The blood-soaked shard fell to the floor with a thud. I put my hand on Marie’s shoulder, who was flustered, and calmed her down.
“Tell her that I was heartbroken and accidentally hurt my hand while touching the vase, so I won’t be able to embroider for a long time, so it would be good to prepare something corresponding to that.”
“I, it looks like it will leave a scar……”
“So Marie, don’t do anything. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes. Milady, so, I’ll do that, so please, let’s stop the bleeding first……”
Perhaps startled by Marie’s scream, the door swung open and Seril and Blan came in. They looked at me and Marie with pale faces and ran outside.
They probably went to call a doctor. Meanwhile, Marie was tearing a cloth and wrapping it around my hand. I endured the surging pain and muttered words I didn’t even know what they meant.
He’s Roena’s sword. He’s not mine. He’s someone who can’t be mine.
After saying that, I felt like I could breathe a little easier.
That day, I was diagnosed by the doctor that I shouldn’t use my hand for at least a month. Of course, my mother’s expression collapsed miserably at those words. It pained my heart to disappoint her, but I pretended not to know.
The next morning, a basket with the failed embroidery was placed on the terrace railing. But nowhere was the embroidery frame with the Ayres Family crest to be seen. I ordered Marie, who was puzzled, to remove the basket.
A few more days passed, and rumors spread among the people that Sissae of the Bishvarts Family had sent a gift to Michael Ayres, and that he was so happy to receive it that he smiled brightly like a flower without being conscious of his surroundings.
Another month passed, and my body and hand were completely healed, so I visited Madame de Châteauroux’s palace again at her invitation.
The gazes that followed me this time were very comfortable, as if it was natural for me to visit her. So, I didn’t have to straighten my back so stiffly that it hurt.
But the treatment I received was still that of Madame de Châteauroux’s favorite girl. This was clearly revealed by Chatoul, who popped out as soon as the door opened.
I smiled and greeted Marian, whom I hadn’t seen in months.
“Have you been well, Marian.”
And with the door slowly closing behind me, I entered the room. Holding her hand tightly.
