Free Princess of Glass by Jessica Day George Page B

course.
    "Ah."
    "Roger has daring tastes in women as well," Dickon said
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    from the side of the room. "That's why he went to the Far East."
    Roger looked irritated. "Actually, I went on the king's request, as part of the new ambassador's entourage," he said icily. He wasn't even slightly out of breath, while Christian thought he might have to forfeit before he collapsed.
    "What was it really like?"
    At dinner the night before, most of the conversation had been about the inconvenience of travel, and the general strangeness of foreigners, as viewed by Lady Thwaites mother. Poppy and Christian were apparently not considered foreign, since they spoke Bretoner and wore clothes, which the elderly lady seemed to think foreign peoples eschewed.
    "Fascinating," Roger said, and then he struck Christian, pressing the capped tip directly into the center of the Dane prince's sternum.
    "A hit," the fencing master said, and clapped to end the bout. "Very nice, Lord Roger."
    "Thank you." Roger handed his foil off to a servant, took a towel, and then turned back to Christian. "The Far East is steeped in magic in a way our side of the world hasn't been in centuries," he said. "When I returned and heard about Princess Poppy and her sisters, and the strange deaths that surrounded them a few years back, well, let me just say that I am not as prone to scoffing over such stories as some people are."
    Still gripping his weapon, Christian felt his face harden. "What do you mean?" If Roger was insulting Poppy...
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    "I simply mean that if any more strange doings erupt around the Westfalian princesses, I recommend that you pay heed to even the most bizarre rumors about their past."
    "Like Princess Rose stabbing someone with a darning needle?" Dickon had sidled over to eavesdrop, and now he laughed. "What kind of damage could that do?"
    "From what I have heard," Roger said, giving his brother a quelling look, "Rose's husband, Galen, used a knitting needle to kill a creature that was nothing that I should like to face."
    Christian wanted to know more, much more, without it seeming that his interest was as a prospective suitor. Fortunately, he had already accepted an invitation from Dickon for tea at the Thwaites' manor after their fencing excursion.
    He had decided to accept any and all invitations he received in order to get as far from Tuckington Palace as possible. Princess Emmeline had decided quite abruptly that morning that she was heartbroken over Christian, and was trailing about the palace in a drab gown with her hair in a tangle, sighing and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief until she made the skin around them quite red. Christian suspected it had more to do with the Analousian novel he had seen her reading the day before than any fondness for him personally. In addition to that, King Rupert kept popping out of his study at random times to bark questions at Christian, demanding to know whether the prince preferred plump or slim women, dark or fair.
    It was all too uncomfortable for words, and Christian counted himself lucky to have found so many friends so
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    quickly in Breton. He was always welcome at the Thwaites or Seadowns, and other invitations came often. Of course, the latter came from households with eligible young ladies, but anything was better than the palace.
    It was quite easy to ply Roger for information about the Westfalian princesses over tea. Although not someone who enjoyed gossiping, Roger clearly believed this to be more a matter of sharing possibly vital knowledge. Most of what he knew was hardly a secret, however. The princesses had worn out their dancing shoes in some mysterious fashion nearly every night, and the princes who tried to uncover their secret died afterward, but never on Westfalian soil.
    What Christian and Dickon had never heard before, though, was that a dark sorcerer had been involved, and that Rose's husband Galen had been working with some benevolent magicians to end the princesses' curse.
    "How