Chapter 20

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Madame de La Vallière
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I lay limply on the chaise lounge, praising myself for skipping breakfast—a small comfort for my perfectly cinched waist.

A lady's perfection lies in her slender waist, so I'd had the laces pulled fiercely tight—so tight I felt my ribs might pop, and my head was spinning.

“I can’t breathe.”

I muttered sullenly, letting out a languid sigh.

“Shall I loosen it for a moment?”

Marie asked gently, reading my expression. I waved a hand dismissively and let my head droop. Even answering felt like too much effort.

My stomach continued to churn, so I ended up skipping lunch as well. All I had managed was some lime juice and a few pieces of fruit. It wasn't just my waist, which felt ready to snap from the corset; the pressure of having to win Madame de La Vallière's approval was suffocating me, leaving me with no appetite.

Thinking of the humiliation and contempt I was about to receive from her made my vision swim, and a faint anger began to stir. Obedience without servility was a concept I found too difficult. Walking the tightrope between arrogance and submission was a truly delicate affair.

Could I really keep the insult ‘Stone Doll’ from escaping my lips? I prayed my self-control was heavier than a boulder. Even if she insulted my mother to my face.

An hour or two later, a servant entered and announced that Madame de La Vallière had arrived at the main gate.

I rose with Marie's help. After a final check of my hair and clothes in the mirror, I descended to the first floor, feigning a look of flushed curiosity and joy. My stepfather, Mother, and Roena were already there, waiting for me.

“This is your first time meeting her, isn’t it?”

Roena whispered to me. Her face was sparkling so brightly it made me want to gag. I forced down the bile rising in my throat and replied.

“Yes. That’s why I’m so excited. I wonder what she’s like.”

Mother stood beside my stepfather, her face so pale she looked ready to faint. Her expression was so fragile, she looked as if a single touch would make her collapse.

She looked like a little girl facing a monster. Had it not been for her title as the mistress of House Vischwartz, she would have surely screamed and fled.

Soon, the doors opened, and Madame de La Vallière entered. I had to suppress a laugh at the sight of her, so utterly unchanged.

To feel relieved that she was just the same… my past self would have surely thought me mad. But Madame de La Vallière was exactly as I remembered her.

Her hair, swept into a perfect updo without a single stray strand, gleamed. The dress that gently hugged her slim yet voluptuous figure was the very picture of elegance.

Her skin, though a little pale, was luminous, and her faintly rose-colored lips, pressed firmly together, exuded a strange sense of pressure. Her eyes, the color of the vast blue sky, radiated a chill as if embedded with ice. Her voice, though low, was clearly articulated and carried a powerful force that could intimidate anyone.

The emerald cane she always carried seemed to hold the sharp edge of a knight's sword. From the simple gesture of removing her gloves to the tone of her voice as she commanded her luggage be set down, she radiated a powerful air of nobility.

As Madame de La Vallière brushed past Mother, her back ramrod straight, I saw the image of a haughty cat with its tail held stiffly in the air.

“Welcome, Sister. I trust your journey was comfortable?”

“There were no problems at all. Thank you for your concern.”

After a brief embrace with my stepfather, Madame de La Vallière's gaze swept over Roena and me. Roena was practically buzzing with excitement at seeing her aunt after so long.

“Oh, yes. Roena. My sweet little skylark. Have you been well?”

“Welcome, Aunt.”

As Roena curtsied with a graceful motion, lightly pinching the hem of her skirt, she was the very image of a sweet little skylark, just as Madame de La Vallière had said.

Her charming, pale yellow dress, covered in frills, further enhanced her loveliness and drew everyone's admiration.

Roena didn't hide her joy at seeing Madame de La Vallière, her face lit with a bright smile. It was enough to bring a faint smile to La Vallière's own lips.

“You must be Cisse.”

The moment she said my name, I stepped forward and curtsied, having perfectly calculated everything: the angle of my bow, the graceful curve of my arms, the number of fingers holding the hem of my dress, and the precise timing of my ascent.

As I curtsied, everyone held their breath as if on cue. And when I rose to meet La Vallière's eyes, they were utterly astonished by the smile playing on her lips.

Madame de La Vallière was looking at me in surprise.

“Not entirely witless, I see.”

To what was, for her, the highest of compliments, I replied with a bright smile.

“You flatter me.”

Needless to say, everyone exhaled in a collective sigh.