POBGS 9

Fragments of the Shattered Glass Slipper — Chapter 9

Even before my return — and even now — Roena had never known the word “doubt.”
In her eyes, the world was as pure and righteous as the fairy tales she adored.

Ironically, she believed conflicts only arose when opinions clashed —
never realizing they could also be born of jealousy or envy.
She didn’t know that, when mixed with inferiority, such feelings could destroy everything.

“Roena could never imagine that I—someone she calls sister—carry malice she herself is incapable of.”

She always twisted things in the way most convenient for her, smiling through them all.
So it was no surprise that such a cheap little trick wouldn’t work on her.

Ah…
I stifled a low sigh, blinking away the wetness in my eyes.

It was shame that burned in my cheeks — shame for my own immaturity.
Drunk on the thrill of finally being able to face her on equal footing,
I had leapt like a foolish child, showing my hand far too early.

Had I been patient—had I laid the groundwork first—
then perhaps the image of the “struggling hard worker versus the complacent genius” might have taken root.
Instead, I’d ruined it with impatience, revealing my intent too soon.

My cheeks flushed red with humiliation; heat pooled in my chest until it almost suffocated me.
To others, it must have looked like a sister overcome by emotion —
a woman who simply loved Roena too much.

Still, I knew I had to change.
I needed to become stealthy — sly as a cat in the dark.
To appear harmless while plotting everything beneath the surface.

“Until every eye is blind, every ear is deaf, and every mouth is shut within this household… I must remain cautious.”

So I decided:
I would become as cold as ice, sharp as a blade.
To watch wisely like an owl, to move cunningly like a snake.
Until the day I could laugh — truly laugh — in front of her distorted face,
I would play the part of the gentle, naïve sister who adored her.

From that day on, I stopped attacking Roena openly.
Instead, I became the doting older sister, desperate to be like her.
Even when disgust clawed at my throat or goosebumps prickled my arms,
I forced myself to smile until my lips twitched in pain.

Mother looked radiant watching us.
She must have secretly feared we’d quarrel,
but seeing us hold hands and tear up together made her eyes shine with relief.

Mother even tried to embody the role of Count Vishwartz’s noble wife —
though her effort was so painfully obvious that I almost pitied her.
So I laughed brightly at her dull jokes, pretending to find them charming.

Time passed, and when conversation ran dry, Roena rose from her seat with a wistful smile.

“My literature tutor will arrive soon, so I should take my leave.
Um… may I come visit again? I mean, Mother…”

The word slipped awkwardly from her lips, but Mother leapt to her feet, overcome with emotion.
She embraced Roena tightly, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Oh, of course, dear! You’re always welcome.
Thank you… for calling me Mother.”

It was almost too ridiculous to watch.
But I endured.
I stood up, joined the hug, and even pretended to sob, shoulders shaking.

When I glanced toward the maids, they too were trembling with strange emotion—
perhaps moved, perhaps merely confused.

Who would have thought the woman who once seduced her way into this household
could now look so meek and virtuous?
Or that she could so swiftly create this “family comedy” for all to admire?

Of course, I knew the truth — the head maid, Margo, and her followers wouldn’t be fooled so easily.
But first impressions mattered, and good rumors spread faster than truth.
So I had no choice but to play along.

Eventually, Roena’s tears dried.
She stepped back and even wiped Mother’s tears first,
as though she were the comforting one.

Then she said—

“I’m so happy that you’ve become my mother.”

I nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity.
Mother was so overcome with joy that she covered Roena’s face with kisses.

And yet… I felt something twist inside me.
It wasn’t quite jealousy, but close enough.

Unlike before, Mother’s goodness no longer comforted me; it unsettled me.
The more she bonded with Roena, the more anxious I became.

After all, she would recognize the subtle mockery behind my innocent act sooner or later.
She used to be a righteous woman, one who saw through lies instantly.

“If she becomes my wall,” I thought, “what then?”

Roena’s nose was red and swollen from crying,
yet her whole body radiated happiness.
Even as the maids stifled laughter at her childish face,
she smiled like a dew-covered flower—pure and dazzling.

“I’ll see you at dinner! I wish time would hurry along.”

Mother escorted her all the way to the door, beaming.
I stood frozen, unable to move.
It felt as though Roena had stolen my mother from me.

Petty, perhaps—but the feeling was real.

After Roena left, Mother invited me for a walk in the garden.
I took her arm, clinging to it like a child,
and only when she stroked my hair gently did my heart finally ease.

The garden of the Vishwartz estate was breathtaking.
The trees and flowers, tended with care, shimmered with life.
Birdsong danced through the air; the whisper of my dress brushing grass sounded like music.
For a brief moment, even the malice coiled inside me fell silent.

“I’ll be much busier from now on,” Mother said softly.
“There may not be time for strolls like this.”

She explained her new duties: inspecting the bakery, brewery, and meat stores;
managing accounts from the rural estates;
overseeing servants’ wages and household budgets;
even preparing charitable donations.

She would soon be the official mistress of the house —
in name, if not yet in possession of the symbol of her status.

“You’ll be busy too, won’t you?”

“Yes,” I replied, feigning excitement.
“I’ll be learning music, singing, literature, history, etiquette, dancing—oh, and falconry too!”

“Falconry?”

“It’s all the rage among young ladies these days. I’d love to try it.”

In truth, I couldn’t care less about falcons.
Back then, I’d ignored such hobbies, obsessed only with surpassing Roena.
The one time I joined her on a hunt, I’d made a fool of myself and vowed never again.

Roena herself had no fondness for hunting, but she went occasionally for the sake of social connections.

Now, however, I had a different goal.

“I need new allies,” I thought. “New connections strong enough to rival hers.”

The hunting grounds drew nobles who would one day rule the Empire —
even the Crown Prince appeared there on occasion.
If I wanted to strike Roena, that was where I’d begin.

Mother gave me a puzzled look but soon nodded in approval.
Then, glancing back at the distant maids, she lowered her voice.

“Sisue… do you dislike Roena?”

“Why would you think that? We were getting along so well just now.”

“Perhaps I’m too sensitive, but… you seem to bristle around her.”

“Oh, no. Not at all. I’m just not used to this place yet.
Sometimes my words come out too bluntly — like when I used to play with the market children.
I’ll be careful from now on.”

Mother sighed, her neck stiff with tension.

“I’m glad to hear that. But… you’ve changed so much lately.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes, of course. Still—promise me. You’ll stay close with Roena, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

I answered without hesitation — a promise I had no intention of keeping.
But I didn’t feel guilty.
I loved my mother deeply, yes,
but I would lie to her as long as it made her happy.

Mother smiled, touched, and kissed my cheek.

We chatted lightly after that, strolling through the garden.
As we neared the end of our walk, I asked casually—

“Have you received the keys to the estate yet?”

Mother hesitated, troubled.

“Not yet.”

I smiled sweetly, my tone as airy as a sigh.

“If Roena truly thinks of you as her mother, she’ll give them to you soon.
That’s what I believe.”

Ah, what a wicked creature I am.
But I couldn’t help myself.
If this little seed of doubt could make Mother guard her heart just a little,
then I would plant it gladly.

After all, it wasn’t hatred I feared — it was attachment.
She is my mother, not Roena’s.

And in this house, the keys symbolize the mistress’s authority.
The longer it took for her to receive them,
the more disappointed she would grow in Roena.
Roena, in turn, would feel that invisible loss — that creeping fear of being replaced.

Perhaps Margo, that sly old ferret, would whisper rumors to deepen the rift.
I almost looked forward to it.

As Mother’s anxious eyes searched mine, I smiled and kissed her cheek tenderly.