Princess of Glass (25 page)

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They passed through more rooms, until they met another young man, this one bearing a strong resemblance to Dickon. He said his name was Roger. Roger, too, was looking for a dark-haired girl who was to be his bride, which made Dickon draw Marianne all the closer. But Roger peered into her face and shook his head.

"Someone else, someone else," he muttered.

"I, too," Christian said, brandishing the slipper. "Come with us."

They came to a room of gold, and Christian knew they were at the end.

In the middle of the room sat two young women in small golden glass chairs. Both were dressed alike in peacock blue ball gowns, festooned with real peacock plumes, and both wore feathered masks and had dark hair.

"Which one of you is my bride?" Christian studied them both, his pulse racing. She was here ... one of these beautiful girls ... but which one?

Neither of them spoke, though one lifted a hand and then dropped it, looking over her shoulder at the shadows behind her.

"May I try this slipper on you both? It belongs to my bride," Christian said, not sure what else to do.

"By all means," said a kind voice. The shadows stirred and a plump woman in a lace cap and shawl came forward. Her grandmotherly demeanor made Christian smile. The old woman laughed like tinkling glass. "Try the slipper on both of our young ladies, if you please! It will fit only your true love!"

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His true love! At last, he would find her! Sinking to his knees, Christian held out the slipper to the girl on the left. She lifted her feathery skirts and presented her bare foot.

Christian started to slide the glass dancing slipper over her toes, but then he hesitated. There was something wrong with her feet. They shone in the dim light like hard, milky glass. He looked up into her eyes, a question on his lips.

Her eyes were blue.

That wasn't right, either.

He looked at the next young woman, on his right. She raised her skirts to offer her foot. It was smooth and pale, too, but skin and not glass. Clutching the slipper so tightly that the filigreed design was leaving deep ridges in his palms, he gazed into her eyes, and saw that they were a beautiful deep violet. He realized that the wool bracelets around his wrists had stopped itching at last.

A sigh escaped Christian, and he put the slipper on his true love's foot.

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a wry smile, and she pulled two pieces of broken glass from a fold of her gown. She bent down and fitted the broken pieces to her foot like a jigsaw puzzle.

"Thank you," she said to Christian. "It's so vexing to lose a single shoe."

"Poppy?" The name came to his lips easily.

She laughed and threw her arms around his neck. "It took you long enough," she said, and planted a kiss on his lips.

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"Roger?" The other girl stretched out her arms to the tall young man, tried to stand, and fell.

Roger rushed to gather her in his arms. "No! No!"

The Corley--Christian's memories were as clear as glass now--began to scream and stamp her feet. The walls around them began to glow brighter, and Christian drew Poppy in close.

"No! No!"

The old witch seemed to swell and her face was dark purple. She gestured with clawed fingers and servants came running with strange tools and pans of molten glass.

He felt a tug on his arm, and found Marianne there.

"Let's go," she whispered. Her other arm was linked in Poppy's, and she was drawing them both toward the door.

Lady Margaret was beckoning to them silently from the passageway. Lord Richard was helping Roger with Eleanora.

"Where is the Corley?" Marianne's eyes were wide and her voice sounded strangled. Her grip on Christian's arm loosened and she grabbed at Dickon. "She was right here ..."

"Run, now!" Lord Richard's voice was low and urgent.

However the Corley traveled through the walls of her palatial glass prison, it was by no means that Christian could detect. They ran down a passageway and found themselves in a round green room that had no other door he could see.

They turned to go back, and the Corley was there, a seething pot of molten glass in her hands.

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"This is my realm," she hissed. "And if I wish to keep you here forever, I will!"

The Corley spilled the pot of molten glass at their feet. The floor began to bubble and melt.

"Keep clear!" Christian wrapped an arm around Poppy, who was closest to the Corley.

"I am not staying here," Poppy shouted, shaking him off.

She turned to the nearest wall and shot it point blank with her pistol. Then she leaped through the shattered ruin, pulling Christian with her. They found themselves in another round room, and Poppy used the butt of her pistol to break the far wall.

Christian joined her, smashing at the walls with the hilt of his long knife. Together they moved on and on through an endless chain of glass rooms until suddenly, screaming, Poppy smashed through a wall of sapphire glass and they found themselves tumbling onto the hearth rug of the Seadowns' parlor. Someone snatched Poppy by the shoulders, and Christian cried out and reached for her as she thrashed and cursed.

"Poppy! Stop that! It's me, Rose!"

And Poppy collapsed into her sister's arms and burst into tears.

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***

Betrothed

Poppy was mortally embarrassed to be crying in front of everyone, but they were free of the Corley and Rose and Galen had come and she just couldn't stop herself. She threw her arms around her oldest sister and blubbered like a three-year-old until Rose finally sat her on a sofa and told her sternly to calm down.

"It's over, isn't it?" Poppy asked, hiccupping. "Of course it is," Rose soothed her.

"I suppose some explanations all around might be in order," Lord Richard said.

"And tea," said Lady Margaret. She gave the bell-pull a firm yank.

A maid put her head into the room immediately, her face all curiosity. "Ma'am?"

"Tea, sandwiches, cakes, whatever Cook can provide,". Lady Margaret said.

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"Perhaps we should start with introductions," Lord Richard said, smiling slightly despite the severe look in his eyes.

Poppy rallied and introduced Rose and Galen, since she was the only person in the room who knew who they were. This caused a great deal of excitement, and a lot of hugging, as Lady Margaret and Marianne immediately threw themselves at Rose, whom they knew only through letters, while Galen shook hands all around and gave Poppy a rib-cracking hug.

Then she told her side of what had happened, feeling quite limp by the end of the narrative.

By the time she was done, Marianne and Eleanora were in tears and the maids had brought in the trays and been dismissed. Christian set a plate of sandwiches and cakes in Poppy's lap and insisted with great concern that she eat.

"I will if you will," she said, and he sat at her feet and helped himself to his own plateful.

Rose raised her eyebrows at this, but Poppy refused to be baited. Not right now, at least.

"We got your letter, Poppy," Galen said.

"Which one?"

His strong-jawed face cracked with amusement. "The first one, I suppose. And we immediately sent to Walter for advice. He didn't like the sound of it, either, not the dreams nor any of your uneasy feelings.

"We wrote to Prince Christian as well," Galen said, frowning. "Trying to warn him, because we knew if it was the Corley, she might set her sights on another Dane prince. But we never got an answer."

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Christian turned bright red, and muttered something about Lady Ella, and feeling like a fool.

Galen gave him a coolly appraising look and then looked to Poppy. She felt herself blushing, and raised her chin.

"My feet!" Eleanora sat bolt upright and raised her skirts to her knees. "My feet!"

Poppy's heart lurched, and she wondered if the other girl's glass feet had cracked or something equally horrible. Then she saw that Eleanora was beaming and wiggling her toes.

"They're healed," she sobbed. "Does this mean--am I-- are we all free of the Corley?" With one hand she stroked at her feet, and with the other she clutched at Roger as though she were drowning.

Poppy felt a pang of jealousy at the raw emotion on Roger's normally reserved face. Then she felt the weight of Christian's head on her own knee, and stroked his hair.

"Yes," Galen said. "You are free of the Corley. All the bargains that have been made with her are now void. Walter and I will consult with some of the Bretoner mages to do what we can to seal her in her realm forever."

"Which means, my dear, that no one can stop me from providing you with a home," Lord Richard said to Eleanora. He, too, took in her continued close proximity to Roger. "And though it will do little to repair the damage I did to your family, Eleanora, I would be more than pleased to present you with a dowry"

"What about Marianne's dowry?" Dickon Thwaite took Marianne's hand in his.

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Lord Richard looked him up and down. "After the overly familiar way you have been behaving with my daughter, especially since she donned that
highly inappropriate
costume this evening, I expect you to propose even if her dowry is an old shoe!"

"Yes sir," Dickon said sheepishly.

"Who do I speak to about Poppy?" Christian looked from Lord Richard to Galen and then to Rose.

Poppy left off stroking his hair. "Who do you speak to about what?" She wasn't sure why her voice came out quite so sharp, but she didn't bother to apologize.

Laughing, Rose pinched Poppy's arm.

"Ouch! Rose, stop that!"

"I'm quite anxious for the rest of your letters to catch up to us," Rose said slyly. "But in the meantime, Prince Christian, we should probably send a letter to our fathers. Kings like to be involved in this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" Again, Poppy's voice came out shrill. Were they really talking about...? She was only sixteen! But Christian ... Well, he had picked her over Eleanora, even under the Corley's enchantment.

"We are the future rulers of Westfalin," Galen said to Rose, clearly enjoying Poppy's confusion. "We could make some of the arrangements ourselves, Rosie."

"I'd actually like the chance to plan a more romantic setting for the proposal," Christian said.

"Yes! No!" Poppy knew her face was so red it was probably glowing.

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"No?" Christian twisted around and climbed up on his knees to look at her. "You mean you don't want to?"

"I'm only sixteen ... we hardly know each other.'"

Christian's face clouded, and Poppy felt her heart plummet toward her feet.

"You could always ask me. I mean ..."

His expression cleared. "Princess Poppy, would you care to visit the Danelaw for the holidays?"

"Yes! I do! I will!" Poppy hugged him and then leaped back, embarrassed. "You could propose to me later, in a more private setting," she said. "Just to see if things change," she told him. "Besides, I need to let my feet rest. Betrothals and weddings always involve a great deal of dancing."

The rest of the room looked on in shock.

"Dancing? You, Poppy?" Marianne shook her head slowly. "I never thought..."

Rose looked concerned. She even felt Poppy's forehead for fever, but Poppy shook her off.

"I don't know about you, Rose, but I am done with letting creatures like Under Stone or the Corley dictate my life. I enjoy dancing, and I will blasted well dance at my wedding!"

"Poppy! Language!"

Poppy didn't answer; she just threw her arms around Christian and kissed him soundly.

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The Anti-Love-Spell Bracelet
Materials:

I skein worsted weight yarn

Size 7 (US) straight knitting needles

I cable needle (abbreviation: CN)

Blunt yarn needle

I button (shanked)

Instructions:

Cast on six stitches.

Row 1: K1, M1 by knitting through the front and back of the stitch, K2, M1, K1 (8 stitches)

Row 2: Knit

Row 3: K1, M1, K4, M1, K1 (10 stitches) Row 4: Knit

Begin charm pattern. Charm is based on the Hugs & Kisses

cable.

Row 1: P1, K8, P1

Row 2: K1, P8, K1

Row 3: P1, slip 2 stitches to CN and hold to back of work, K2, K2 from CN, slip 2 stitches to CN, hold to front of work, K2, K2 from CN, P1.

Row 4:K1,P8,K1

Row 5: P1, K8, P1

Row 6: K1, P8, K1