The Shattered Glass Slipper – Chapter 7
A wicked thrill ran through me as I let go of Marie’s lips, almost tearing them away from my grip.
She cupped her swollen mouth, whimpering softly, shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs.
“Speak.”
“I-It was Yonel. Yonel told me.”
She gasped out the words between ragged breaths.
“And who is that? What does she do?”
“She serves Lady Roena.”
“Oh, really? I see… a maid of Roena’s, is she? You must be quite close for her to rush and tell you such things.”
“Yes. W-we’re close.”
“Are you? Then it would be wise to keep that friendship, my dear.”
You’ll need her help soon enough.
Smiling sweetly, I brushed my fingers against Marie’s cheek.
“Now, shall we talk about you and Margo?”
Marie’s lips quivered. She didn’t even dare look at me. The mere mention of the head maid seemed to terrify her.
I softened my tone, voice dripping with feigned gentleness.
“I don’t mean to scold, my dear. I already know that Margo has been trying to insult me through you and the others.”
“It’s not true! I swear, it’s not!”
“Be honest, Marie. Why did you come to me? What were you hoping to achieve by getting close to me? Tell me—why did you do what you did this morning?”
“My Lady, I was wrong! I won’t do it again! I swear, never again!”
“Does that mean you’ll help me? Do anything I ask of you? Even if I… do something like this?”
My fingers traced her face slowly, then wrapped gently around her neck.
The poor girl froze, eyes wide, unable to even breathe.
I tightened my grip—slowly, deliberately—just enough for her fear to bloom fully.
“Shhh, stay still. That’s it… good girl.”
She was too frightened to resist. Tears streamed down her face as she begged for mercy.
“My Lady, please—I was wrong! I’ll never do it again! Please, spare me!”
I ignored her. She needed to remember this fear—to know that I could end her life whenever I wished.
Only when her tongue began to slip from her lips, gasping for air, did I release her.
She collapsed like a broken puppet, twitching on the floor.
I leaned down, stroking her trembling head as I whispered—
“Sweet Marie. Go to Margo now and tell her you wept, begged forgiveness, and that your foolish Lady pardoned you out of kindness. Tell her you’ll do better next time—that you won’t fail again.”
Marie nodded, eyes wet and glassy. The fear in them told me she finally understood:
I was Sisue Vishwart—her master, her nightmare.
Satisfied, I smiled softly.
“Good. Then I’ll make sure Margo can’t punish you.”
To calm her trembling, I unclasped a bracelet from my wrist and offered it.
“This is a small reward for today. You’ll forget what happened, won’t you? You must forget—so we can get along well from now on.”
Confusion flickered across her tear-streaked face—fear, sorrow, and a faint spark of greedy joy.
I could see it clearly in her eyes: greed.
Already, she was staring at the bracelet like a fool hypnotized by its shine.
Yes. She would obey me now.
A short while later, another maid entered—red-haired, sharp-eyed, with a haughty air.
She introduced herself as Seryl, sent by my foster father.
I couldn’t help but laugh softly at the sight of her.
Oh, I remember you. One of Roena’s loyal dogs, weren’t you?
Despite being assigned to me, she dared to meet my gaze with barely concealed contempt.
I licked my lips and turned to Marie.
“Marie, go do as I told you. I have something to discuss with Seryl.”
Whether from fear or obedience, Marie fled without protest.
Watching her leave, I turned back to Seryl, who stood uncertain and tense.
I smiled sweetly and whispered—
“Shall we have a little talk?”
A simple one.
Before my return, I had always been the unruly girl—the storm’s eye that stirred chaos wherever I went.
Trouble seemed to follow me, and I often found myself in fights.
Partly, it was because of my temper—I could never bear to hear anyone insult my mother.
Whenever someone dared to speak ill of her, I would pounce like a wild animal.
I didn’t care if I got hurt—as long as the other person bled more than I did.
Honor was meaningless compared to the sting of humiliation.
I’d bite, scratch, and fight until the world called me mad.
And I would laugh and shout back—
“So what? You got a problem with that?”
So really, dealing with someone like Seryl wasn’t hard at all.
A dog that doesn’t understand words sometimes needs a little discipline.
I had learned that truth early.
I glanced down at Seryl, sprawled on the floor, and opened the door.
Marie stood there, pale as a ghost, gasping when our eyes met.
“You came back sooner than I thought. Did Margo hear you out?”
Marie nodded frantically, too terrified to speak.
I smiled brightly, pretending not to notice her fear, and stepped aside so she could see the room’s center—
where Seryl lay motionless.
“She’s not feeling well. Fainted during our chat, poor thing. Why don’t you check on her?”
“M-me, my Lady?”
Marie swallowed hard, confused. Nobles rarely ordered servants to help the ones they punished.
“Yes. You,” I said firmly.
Her eyes flickered strangely as she crept toward Seryl, glancing back at me every few steps.
“Take good care of her. I want her up by tomorrow.”
“T-tomorrow?”
She looked at me as if I were mad. The expression almost made me laugh.
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
Truth be told, Seryl’s condition wasn’t good. I doubted she’d be walking anytime soon.
But that wasn’t my problem.
“Is it too hard for you?”
Marie’s voice trembled with defeat.
“N-no, my Lady. I can do it.”
“Good. That’s my girl.”
I had no intention of letting Seryl leave until she learned complete obedience.
Better to break her early than fight her later.
Her absence might raise questions, but that was no concern.
No one would dare lecture me for keeping my own maid close for a few days.
And with Margo cowering after her scolding from my foster father, there was no one left to interfere.
So I left the room calmly, Marie tending to Seryl behind me.
After a few turns down the corridor, I stopped before a familiar door—
the one bearing the crest of House Vishwartz.
My mother’s room.
Just as before, she stayed in the Countess’s chambers.
I knocked gently and entered.
She was seated by the window, enjoying tea—with Roena.
My eyes narrowed.
Why was she here?
“Mother.”
I rushed over and kissed both her cheeks, wrapping my arms around her in a childish display of affection.
Mother smiled and stroked my hair. Normally she would scold me for being silly, but today she let it pass.
“Are you all right, dear?”
I nodded brightly.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
At least compared to before.
Back then, I was a wreck—plagued by exhaustion, sleepless nights, and the endless pursuit of Roena’s shadow.
Four hours of sleep on good days, two on bad ones.
I worked myself raw just to barely touch her heels.
To perfect my pronunciation, I spent entire days with marbles in my mouth until my molars cracked.
My feet bled from endless dance practice, hardened calluses sliced open again and again.
Even as my body decayed, I endured.
No matter how much effort I gave, I could never surpass Roena.
Only the scars remained.
I vomited blood from stress and malnutrition, unable to swallow even soup.
The once-balanced body I had became frail, skeletal.
My face, gaunt and pale, no longer held color even under powder.
I resorted to coating my skin in crushed pearl mixed with flour—
a ghostly mask to hide the ruin beneath.
People whispered that I was a walking ghost.
But I never gave up.
Not until fate itself crushed me—forcing me to kneel before destiny and surrender.
Until that moment, I clung to the dream of surpassing Roena Vishwartz.
The words “I want to stop” burned on my tongue countless times,
but I swallowed them each time, believing someday, someone would finally see me.
So compared to then—this was nothing.
I hadn’t even begun.
Mother sighed in relief and kissed my temple.
“That’s good, my child. Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please.”
Smiling sweetly, I sat beside Roena.
A maid swiftly brought me a cup.
And thus, the next act began.
