Princess of Glass by Jessica Day George
Authors: 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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viciously about poor Lady Ella?
"Yes, what's going on?" said a voice behind them. "Someone told me I absolutely had to come in and view the dancing."
Christian turned to find Poppy standing there looking puzzled. Unconsciously he reached for the silk watch fob that Poppy had knitted for him, hoping she would notice that he
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was wearing it. The muzziness in his head cleared, and he could see that her dress was different from Ella's. The red was more subdued, and the flowers on the skirt were poppies, naturally, not roses. She also had a long red shawl draped around her arms, and her hair was thicker, her eyes larger. He couldn't believe that he'd mistaken anyone else for her.
"Look over there. Dancing with Roger Thwaite!" Marianne grabbed Poppy by the shoulders and turned her.
Still looking puzzled, Poppy looked out into the dancers for a moment, and tilted her head to one side. "Who is ... I can't quite see ..."
"What do you mean? She's right there!" Marianned pointed again.
Christian gave her an irritated look. She was disturbing his reverie. The red roses on white silk whirled by again.
Poppy muttered something, and then gasped in shock. "It can't be her!"
"You recognize her?" Marianne stared. "Where did you meet her? She introduced herself to Christian as Lady Ella, no last name." She wrinkled her nose.
"Interesting," Poppy said slowly. "I guess she did find a patron, but did she have to upstage my gown?" Poppy made a face.
Christian fought down a sudden urge to shake Poppy. Wouldn't someone tell him more about the fascinating Lady Ella? He brought himself up short with that thought, and took a drink of his lemonade. He felt very strange.
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"Not just that," Marianne said, and Christian realized that the two girls had more or less forgotten his presence. "But she's dripping with jewels! Why do I not know who she is?"
This brought Poppy's attention fully away from Lady Ella and onto Marianne. "You don't recognize her at all?"
"No! Who is she?" Marianne shifted uneasily. "And why is everyone staring at us?"
"Why wouldn't they stare?" Poppy said. "They want to know what I think of that gown!"
Christian threw up his hands. "Will someone please at least tell me why this girl shouldn't have a gown and jewels?"
Poppy patted his shoulder but her eyes were still on Lady Ella, as were the eyes of everyone there. "Sorry. It's just that... this girl... has no money. So how did she come by the gown and jewels? It's troubling." Poppy was running the edges of her stole through her fingers, staring at Lady Ella.
Christian didn't care who Lady Ella's patron was. He only knew that she was beautiful, and danced like a fairy creature. He wondered if Roger would mind Christian cutting in, even though the dance wasn't finished.
"Now, now, Your Highness!" A voice behind them boomed and someone clapped Christian on the back so hard that he nearly fell on his face. "No stealing all the young ladies!"
A large, florid man--Duke Something-or-other--was looking over both Poppy and Marianne with a roguish eye. "You're supposed to be looking for a nice Bretoner wife," he announced, blasting whiskey-scented breath at Christian. "So I'll take this one off your hands!"
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Without waiting to see if Christian protested or if Poppy agreed, the duke took hold of Poppy and spun her out onto the dance floor.
"Poppy doesn't dance, everyone knows that," Marianne said, bristling with indignation now that the initial shock was over.
Christian fought down a surge of jealousy. He'd been planning on convincing Poppy to dance with him--just once! And now this drunken duke had taken her off against her will. She would probably never dance again after this.
It was clear that Poppy was trying to get free of her partner's overzealous grip. Every time the dance called for a turn or spin Poppy tried to slip away, but the duke kept hauling her back to his side. It would have been comical but for two things: Poppy was such a skilled dancer that
"Yes, what's going on?" said a voice behind them. "Someone told me I absolutely had to come in and view the dancing."
Christian turned to find Poppy standing there looking puzzled. Unconsciously he reached for the silk watch fob that Poppy had knitted for him, hoping she would notice that he
111
was wearing it. The muzziness in his head cleared, and he could see that her dress was different from Ella's. The red was more subdued, and the flowers on the skirt were poppies, naturally, not roses. She also had a long red shawl draped around her arms, and her hair was thicker, her eyes larger. He couldn't believe that he'd mistaken anyone else for her.
"Look over there. Dancing with Roger Thwaite!" Marianne grabbed Poppy by the shoulders and turned her.
Still looking puzzled, Poppy looked out into the dancers for a moment, and tilted her head to one side. "Who is ... I can't quite see ..."
"What do you mean? She's right there!" Marianned pointed again.
Christian gave her an irritated look. She was disturbing his reverie. The red roses on white silk whirled by again.
Poppy muttered something, and then gasped in shock. "It can't be her!"
"You recognize her?" Marianne stared. "Where did you meet her? She introduced herself to Christian as Lady Ella, no last name." She wrinkled her nose.
"Interesting," Poppy said slowly. "I guess she did find a patron, but did she have to upstage my gown?" Poppy made a face.
Christian fought down a sudden urge to shake Poppy. Wouldn't someone tell him more about the fascinating Lady Ella? He brought himself up short with that thought, and took a drink of his lemonade. He felt very strange.
112
"Not just that," Marianne said, and Christian realized that the two girls had more or less forgotten his presence. "But she's dripping with jewels! Why do I not know who she is?"
This brought Poppy's attention fully away from Lady Ella and onto Marianne. "You don't recognize her at all?"
"No! Who is she?" Marianne shifted uneasily. "And why is everyone staring at us?"
"Why wouldn't they stare?" Poppy said. "They want to know what I think of that gown!"
Christian threw up his hands. "Will someone please at least tell me why this girl shouldn't have a gown and jewels?"
Poppy patted his shoulder but her eyes were still on Lady Ella, as were the eyes of everyone there. "Sorry. It's just that... this girl... has no money. So how did she come by the gown and jewels? It's troubling." Poppy was running the edges of her stole through her fingers, staring at Lady Ella.
Christian didn't care who Lady Ella's patron was. He only knew that she was beautiful, and danced like a fairy creature. He wondered if Roger would mind Christian cutting in, even though the dance wasn't finished.
"Now, now, Your Highness!" A voice behind them boomed and someone clapped Christian on the back so hard that he nearly fell on his face. "No stealing all the young ladies!"
A large, florid man--Duke Something-or-other--was looking over both Poppy and Marianne with a roguish eye. "You're supposed to be looking for a nice Bretoner wife," he announced, blasting whiskey-scented breath at Christian. "So I'll take this one off your hands!"
113
Without waiting to see if Christian protested or if Poppy agreed, the duke took hold of Poppy and spun her out onto the dance floor.
"Poppy doesn't dance, everyone knows that," Marianne said, bristling with indignation now that the initial shock was over.
Christian fought down a surge of jealousy. He'd been planning on convincing Poppy to dance with him--just once! And now this drunken duke had taken her off against her will. She would probably never dance again after this.
It was clear that Poppy was trying to get free of her partner's overzealous grip. Every time the dance called for a turn or spin Poppy tried to slip away, but the duke kept hauling her back to his side. It would have been comical but for two things: Poppy was such a skilled dancer that
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