Princess of Glass Read Online Free Page B

Princess of Glass
Book: 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
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Christian uncomfortable. "Don't you know who she is? She's from Westfalin ...?"
    Christian stumbled and nearly tripped over Marianne's feet. When they recovered he said, "Is she one of those princesses?"
    Marianne's face hardened. "There's no need to say it that way," she told him. "Poppy is my second cousin, you know."
    "I'm terribly sorry, I meant no offense." Christian heartily wished he'd been able to get some sleep earlier. He felt incredibly slow-witted and was afraid he was going to trip again, with his tongue or his feet. "It's just that I'd heard about the ... slippers ... and that one of ... the Westfalin princesses would be here too."
    In fact, it had nearly kept his father from sending him. When the letter outlining the travel arrangements had arrived, King Rupert had mentioned that one of his cousin's daughters would also be present. He had probably meant to show how generous and peaceable he was, but it had alarmed King Karl to no end.
    "Witches loose in Castleraugh!" Karl had ranted. "You
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    cannot go!" It was only when his wife and Christian had both pointed out that to back out now would insult both Westfalin and Breton, and perhaps cause the very international breach that this heir-swapping was to prevent, that he calmed down.
    "Poppy says she's worn out enough dancing slippers for five lifetimes," Marianne said. "So she never dances." She gave a little laugh, which let Christian know that his unintentional insult had been forgiven. "If there's a card room, though, she usually plays."
    "Really?" He wondered if it were different here in Breton-- back home the card rooms at balls were only for the gentlemen.
    "It's quite shocking," Marianne assured him, guessing at his expression. "But she says there's no point in being a wallflower when she can earn some pin money off the gentlemen."
    "Is she good at cards?"
    "I don't think she's ever lost a hand," Marianne told him, as proud as if she were the one who'd taught her cousin to play.
    "Really?" Christian decided that he wouldn't mind meeting this odd Westfalian princess. She didn't look at all like a witch, nor did she sound like the scheming heartbreaker he'd expected.
    But he never got a chance to meet Poppy that night. Since George had insisted they arrive fashionably late, the valse with Marianne turned out to be the supper dance, so he escorted her in to the meal. It was quite sumptuous, and Marianne was good company. After supper he did his duty by dancing with the Laurence granddaughters.
    After the third (rather bucktoothed) young Lady Laurence,
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    Christian sat down by a window to catch his breath. He dozed for a time, something that would embarrass him later when he could think more clearly. What woke him was the sound of a struggle, followed by a young woman's voice saying, "Get away from me, you fool!"
    He sat up straight and looked around, finally locating the sound as coming from the garden behind him. There was no door in sight, and he was still somewhat groggy, so he simply went to the open window and half-leaped, half-fell out of it.
    Christian landed on top of a burly young man who swore and punched him in the ear. He had a dim recollection of a bluish white skirt flickering away as the young lady ran off, and then a better punch from the burly young man connected with his nose and he lost consciousness.
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    ***
    Gossip
    When the strange young man fell out of the window and started to fight Jasper Antwhistle, Poppy went to find a stick. She had no interest in getting a black eye trying to separate them, and their flailing around made it very likely. She thought that a fallen tree branch would be just the thing to jab at them until they separated.
    Unfortunately, the Laurence garden was so well tended that there were no loose sticks lying around, and the fight had ended by the time she had gone into the ballroom and borrowed a walking stick from an amused older gentleman. There was quite a crowd gathered around the pair. The window-leaper
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