Princess of Glass Read Online Free
Author: Jessica Day George
Tags: Fiction, General, Juvenile Fiction, Magic, Fantasy & Magic, Children's Books - Young Adult Fiction, Witches, Science Fiction; Fantasy; & Magic, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), Young Adult Fiction, Princes, Fairy Tales & Folklore, Royalty, princesses, Fairy Tales, Adaptations, Children's & young adult fiction & true stories, Fairy Tales & Folklore - Adaptations
Richard also situated his hand, and the other two scrambled to pick up their cards. "Otherwise Margaret will think I'm corrupting the innocent."
Poppy glowered a bit at this, but Lord Richard just laughed. "Not you, my dear. But young Thwaite has only had a year at university."
Now it was "young Thwaite's" turn to glower. Poppy sighed, realizing that it was up to her to break the heavy mood in the card room. "First bid?"
28
***
Guest
And this is the portrait hall," Prince George said.
"Very nice," Christian agreed, and tried not to yawn.
He'd traveled for two days to reach the Bretoner capital of Castleraugh, and when he'd arrived George had insisted on giving Christian a guided tour of Tuckington Palace. Christian had seen more portraits of unfortunately horse-faced Bretoners than he cared to remember, and passed more inviting chairs and sofas than he could bear. At that very moment they were standing two paces away from a silk-upholstered couch littered with small round cushions, and Christian thought he could hear it whispering enticingly to him.
"This armor belonged to my great-great-great-grandfather, King Gerald," George was saying. Then he frowned at the plaque affixed to the pedestal the armor stood on. "No, wait. It was my great-great-great-great-uncle, Prince Everard's." George pulled at his lower lip. "I could have sworn it was Gerald's," he muttered. "What's become of Gerald's kit, then?"
29
Christian swayed on his feet and then pinched himself to stay awake. "George," he interrupted the prince's musing, trying not to stare at the couch. "Do you suppose we might take the tour in the direction of my room? I hate to admit it, but I'm exhausted. Perhaps I could see the portraits another time."
Blinking, George looked from Christian to the armor and back. "All right," he said finally, clearly flummoxed by this lack of interest in Prince Everard's breastplate and greaves. "Let me show you our guest rooms."
Apparently, when Prince George was in the mood to give a tour, nothing would deter him. On their way to Christian's room George led him through a number of other chambers, listing the famous guests who had stayed there over the years. When they at last reached the "Blue Room" assigned to Christian, which had once housed a Shijnren empress, they caught a little maid in the act of laying the fire.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Your Highnesses!" She scrambled to her feet and curtsied. She had frizzy red hair under a white linen cap and a smudge of soot on her nose.
Christian tapped his own nose. "You have a smut," he told her kindly. She turned bright red, dropped the basket she had been carrying the kindling in, snatched it up again, and backed out of the room with more apologies.
"Of course she had a smut," George said, laughing. "She's a maid. The question is: why hadn't she laid the fire earlier, sparing us the sight of seeing her and her smut?" He shook his head in exasperation; "Still, we've had worse ... that dark-haired one ..." He shuddered.
30
The Dane court was a good deal more casual, Christian reflected, shedding his coat and flopping into a chair by the hearth. At home the maids came and went whether or not he was in the room, and Fru Jensen, the housekeeper, had scolded him a number of times for tracking mud on the carpet or mussing a freshly made bed. Breton was going to take a great deal of getting used to.
Not the least of which was because of George.
"Ball tonight," George said, taking the other hearthside seat. "Duke of Laurence, so wed best make an appearance."
Glancing at the clock, Christian stifled a groan. He'd have to start dressing in an hour if they were to attend a ball, and he was so tired the room was swimming.
"Perhaps you could give my excuses to the duke," Christian said. "I really am done in by my journey--"
"Nonsense," said George. "I've already told Laurence you'd be there. I'll have some tea and scones sent up for now. Very restorative, tea and scones." And George
Poppy glowered a bit at this, but Lord Richard just laughed. "Not you, my dear. But young Thwaite has only had a year at university."
Now it was "young Thwaite's" turn to glower. Poppy sighed, realizing that it was up to her to break the heavy mood in the card room. "First bid?"
28
***
Guest
And this is the portrait hall," Prince George said.
"Very nice," Christian agreed, and tried not to yawn.
He'd traveled for two days to reach the Bretoner capital of Castleraugh, and when he'd arrived George had insisted on giving Christian a guided tour of Tuckington Palace. Christian had seen more portraits of unfortunately horse-faced Bretoners than he cared to remember, and passed more inviting chairs and sofas than he could bear. At that very moment they were standing two paces away from a silk-upholstered couch littered with small round cushions, and Christian thought he could hear it whispering enticingly to him.
"This armor belonged to my great-great-great-grandfather, King Gerald," George was saying. Then he frowned at the plaque affixed to the pedestal the armor stood on. "No, wait. It was my great-great-great-great-uncle, Prince Everard's." George pulled at his lower lip. "I could have sworn it was Gerald's," he muttered. "What's become of Gerald's kit, then?"
29
Christian swayed on his feet and then pinched himself to stay awake. "George," he interrupted the prince's musing, trying not to stare at the couch. "Do you suppose we might take the tour in the direction of my room? I hate to admit it, but I'm exhausted. Perhaps I could see the portraits another time."
Blinking, George looked from Christian to the armor and back. "All right," he said finally, clearly flummoxed by this lack of interest in Prince Everard's breastplate and greaves. "Let me show you our guest rooms."
Apparently, when Prince George was in the mood to give a tour, nothing would deter him. On their way to Christian's room George led him through a number of other chambers, listing the famous guests who had stayed there over the years. When they at last reached the "Blue Room" assigned to Christian, which had once housed a Shijnren empress, they caught a little maid in the act of laying the fire.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Your Highnesses!" She scrambled to her feet and curtsied. She had frizzy red hair under a white linen cap and a smudge of soot on her nose.
Christian tapped his own nose. "You have a smut," he told her kindly. She turned bright red, dropped the basket she had been carrying the kindling in, snatched it up again, and backed out of the room with more apologies.
"Of course she had a smut," George said, laughing. "She's a maid. The question is: why hadn't she laid the fire earlier, sparing us the sight of seeing her and her smut?" He shook his head in exasperation; "Still, we've had worse ... that dark-haired one ..." He shuddered.
30
The Dane court was a good deal more casual, Christian reflected, shedding his coat and flopping into a chair by the hearth. At home the maids came and went whether or not he was in the room, and Fru Jensen, the housekeeper, had scolded him a number of times for tracking mud on the carpet or mussing a freshly made bed. Breton was going to take a great deal of getting used to.
Not the least of which was because of George.
"Ball tonight," George said, taking the other hearthside seat. "Duke of Laurence, so wed best make an appearance."
Glancing at the clock, Christian stifled a groan. He'd have to start dressing in an hour if they were to attend a ball, and he was so tired the room was swimming.
"Perhaps you could give my excuses to the duke," Christian said. "I really am done in by my journey--"
"Nonsense," said George. "I've already told Laurence you'd be there. I'll have some tea and scones sent up for now. Very restorative, tea and scones." And George
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