87 - Pieces of the Broken Glass Slipper
Shattered Glass Slipper Shards Episode 87
==========
“Becoming a knight requires a grueling training process. It is so painful that most people drop out along the way. Above all, becoming a knight of the Imperial Palace means passing even more demanding screening conditions. Without considerable patience and perseverance, one cannot endure it.”
“Sir Ayres?”
“I myself did not know that I possessed such a tenacious temperament, but looking back, I suppose this conquest was not in vain.”
Because it was a statement that burst out after silence, it was so fast that it was incomprehensible. No, the words entered my ears perfectly well, but it was difficult to understand because there were so many things that were not common sense—emotional common sense—to reach my brain.
“What are you saying…”
“I dare to ask. If my feelings were terrible or frightening, you would have screamed and run away. But can I take it as a part that can be interpreted arbitrarily that you do not do so? May I be happy to think that you are enduring the scandal with me because I am of some help to you?”
“Wait a minute. I don’t understand very well right now, so…”
“Strangely enough, I don’t feel offended or angry. Even though I’ve been rejected several times. Perhaps that is thanks to your generous heart, my lady, which gently pushes away the rude me.”
“Sir Ayres? Please tell me a story that I can understand? I can’t understand what you’re saying at all.”
I thought he would quit even if it hurt his pride. I thought that even a man with such a noble character would be greatly angered by such a rejection.
But perhaps I underestimated Michael Ayres too much. Or is first love something that exerts such a tenacious power? Otherwise, he wouldn’t say such crazy things as to use him.
Ah, why does such a wonderful man feel love for someone like me? I’m not a woman worthy enough to handle such passion.
How would I use him? How would I use him, and yet he sends me such sincere eyes?
“You’ll regret it. Later, you will fall into despair and resent me.”
The funny thing is that there is a pathetic me who cannot refuse this offer of mine. Because there is so much to gain from the rumor of a romance with Michael Ayres, I am only filling my greed while ignoring his heart.
Perhaps in the near future, when this fever subsides, I will see him holding a knife and trying to kill me.
He might scream like a witch and pour out words of resentment like a curse. The price of unrequited love mixed with despair is always like that.
“I will accept that as a sweet price. So please grant me the mercy to kiss the back of your hand, my lady. If you refuse even that, I may not be able to bear the pain and prostrate myself and beg.”
“Your blackmail is very skillful.”
“Please call it a negotiation. So that it sounds more elegant.”
I pulled his hand, which was holding my hand, towards me. And I lowered my lips onto the back of Michael Ayres’s hand.
I can feel him inhaling sharply and tensing up when skin touches skin. His round eyes were filled with bewilderment.
“Wouldn’t this be better than mourning your lips being wiped with a handkerchief later? How can I receive respect from you? So please understand.”
“Good heavens.”
He muttered like a sigh.
“I should have asked for a cheek instead.”
Michael Ayres seemed almost half out of his mind. I took advantage of the gap to pull out my hand.
Unlike some ruffian, this gentle man did not know how to wrap his arms around my waist and force his feelings on me. It was a very fortunate thing for everyone.
Someone once said that contact with a loved one is like tasting heavenly delicacies. That ecstasy cannot be exchanged for any pleasure in the world, and the stimulation at that time is a mental orgasm itself. In other words, it’s incredibly good.
But what I know is different from the above. This intimate feeling was not so noble or elegant as to attach all sorts of flowery words to it.
After all, all you feel is the blood being drained from your groin, so why attach all sorts of beautiful and good words to it?
It would be a more honest expression to say that the history of seduction and conquest is repeated. It’s also strangely romantic.
Is that why? For me, people in love mostly reminded me of snails. They were just like that, startled and cowering at any stimulus.
Jumping up and down like a frog touched with bare hands and complaining of sweet pain that squeezed the heart was also very different from the descriptions in novels.
His flushed face was dyed with a color like a carrot, and his eyes, shaking from side to side, were like a fool himself.
No matter how beautiful a woman is, when she falls in love, she makes a fool of herself and gives others a chance to look down on her.
So I can’t help but admire it. The magic of love turns people into animals themselves.
Unfortunately, Michael Ayres was no exception to the above category. Well, it’s too bad that his brilliant beauty is compared to snails and frogs, but the way he shakes his long hair down to his waist like a tail reminds me of a large dog.
Still, he seemed to be trying to maintain his reason quite a bit until I pulled my hand away. It was admirable.
But when I took a step closer to continue the conversation, he quickly moved away like a defiled virgin and his face turned red—he tried to cover his face with his hand, but it was not enough.
Why? Because I kissed that hand—he only moved his mouth.
Where did the man who expressed his regret, saying that he should have asked for a cheek, disappear to?
Still, looking at him like this, I felt somehow relieved. I was relieved that he seemed to be showing a slightly different side from the Sissae of the past.
Anyway, women who are famous in society must have pushed their breasts out and made all sorts of advances, but he gets so excited with just a kiss on the back of his hand, so my mouth feels bitter.
You can see all sorts of naked bodies just by lifting the curtain behind the ballroom pillar, so what’s so special about this?
That must be proof that his feelings for me are deep. Is that why? I couldn’t lightly throw out even empty words that were close to jokes.
Therefore, I pretended not to notice Michael Ayres, who was overly embarrassed. To be honest, I didn’t want to tarnish the brilliant purity of this noble knight as much as I do at this moment. I just want to break up in due time.
Michael Ayres nodded repeatedly no matter what I said, as if he was out of his mind.
He knew that this attitude was impolite, but it seemed difficult to control his uncontrolled physical reactions. I was at a loss for words at his desperate effort to the point of being pitiful.
Now, on the contrary, he seemed to be avoiding me, so I was just dumbfounded. I felt like I had become a thug harassing a virgin. So I had no choice but to bow and say goodbye quickly.
If the dress I’m wearing now was Chatoul’s, I wouldn’t have been able to make eye contact at all. At the same time, it was not unreasonable to have such a trivial thought.
If I had worn the thin dress I wore at the Masquerade, which revealed my cleavage, he would have probably had a nosebleed on the spot.
Even if Michael Ayres is said to have an ice heart, he is still a physically healthy man after all.
Anyway, I quickly broke up with him while he was out of his mind and moved towards Chatoul’s palace. Others point fingers at her, calling her an old string whose favor has fallen, but I couldn’t cut ties with her as I have memories of the past.
Madame de Châteauroux must be forced to step down by the Crown Prince after blooming more splendidly than anyone else, as I saw in the past. Considering her influence on all aspects of society, she had to.
Chatoul was a symbol of the empire’s lewdness. Her vulgar nature and promiscuous habits, as if she was always in heat, broke down the boundaries of the nobility’s noble character and noble position, allowing someone like me to run wild.
Even if she did not form a large force, it was true that prostitutes and the like could easily enter and leave the palace because of Chatoul.
Thanks to this, I was also classified as the same group and criticized together, but if I endured the humiliation, I could get a chance to approach others.
Madame de Châteauroux was given many exemptions because she was the emperor’s concubine. No matter what outrageous things she did, there were many views that it was inevitable because she was the emperor’s favorite concubine and was inherently promiscuous.
Is that why? Even if what she did was a frowning act, it soon became a new trend that swept through society. Even if it was a cruel game that tormented someone.
Yes. That’s why Chatoul is needed. She has to have more fun. She had a duty to spread the fun games that everyone talked about in the past, and that I could follow, to the women of society.
She had to make it a natural punishment for women of lower rank than her.
The official schedule was only over externally, but the emperor was still providing Marian with time benefits.
That meant that his favor for her had not yet ended. No, even if it was over, it implied that he still had some lingering feelings.
Above all, she was the only one among the many women the emperor had had who was given a palace. Even the current favorite concubine, Madame de Flandre, could not secure her own space in a corner of the Imperial Palace. Because the emperor did not allow it.
Therefore, if Madame de Châteauroux had acted more wisely, she would have regained the emperor’s embrace long ago.
But the anger of being robbed of the empire’s top guest by a young girl working in the same industry made her more of a fool than usual.
Very unfortunately, the fools around her would be fanning her anger and repeatedly stomping their feet.
Madame de Châteauroux needed someone who could calm her anger for a while and at the same time accurately retrace the situation. I thought I wanted it to be me.
But there was a guest ahead of me. As soon as Chatoul’s maid saw me, she shook her head with a pale face. It must mean that I shouldn’t go in.
The guest who visited her before me was an unwelcome person, and the palace was filled with the sound of things breaking. Chatoul’s presumed shrill screams echoed through the thick door and into the hallway.
“You damn bitch. Get out of my sight right now!! Get that fishy body that’s not even green out of here right now.”
Ah, I think I know who it is. The famous Madame de Flandre has visited. I couldn’t even tell her that I had come and asked the maid, who was rolling her eyes, to be quiet by raising my finger.
She has a lot of guts. Unless she was very brave, would she have thought of visiting Chatoul, who was grinding her teeth at her?
