Free The Glass Castle by Jerry B.; Trisha; Jenkins Priebe Page A

least twenty deep; and of course, he was speaking kindly to each one of them, making every person feel valued and needed.
    “We’ll be here all day,” Avery said, flopping into a chair at the table beside Kendrick.
    Kendrick didn’t look up from signing his way through a mountain of paperwork. He had perfected the signatures of several castle dignitaries and was able to sign important deeds without hesitation.
    “It’s what we agreed to do,” he said.
    Avery’s hand went to the ruby necklace that now seemed to weigh a thousand pounds around her neck. After seeing it in the painting of Queen Elizabeth, she kept it hidden beneath her dress or buried in her pillow. Being caught with royal jewels was punishable by death. She wondered, though, how her mother had come to own the necklace and why she had given it away. Her mother was growing as mysterious to her as the castle had become.
    “Hello,” Tuck said finally, when the line had cleared. “We have a lot to do. Let’s get started.” His voice was gentle and his eyes were kind.
    As he spoke about the kids and the responsibilities of the council to meet their needs, Avery tried not to notice that his eyes twinkled or that he seemed to genuinely like the people he served. He assigned Kendrick to intercept the daily mail coming to and going from the castle so they could become more familiar with the goings-on of the king. And he charged Avery with designing “a crest, a unifying emblem—something we can rally around.”
    Avery nodded, smiling.
    Maybe she had finally found a place where her gifts would be useful.
    He then talked for the next hour or so about the complexities of parliamentary process and the details of domestic and foreign policy, but Avery didn’t hear a word he said.
    And that was just fine with her.

    Late that night, Tuck introduced a new activity. The kids met in the large hall on their side of the stairwell for chess tournaments. Winners would receive passes from chores like dishwashing and mopping, while losers would be assigned the most mundane tasks.
    The tension was intense from the moment the pairings were announced and the players began arranging their pieces.
    Winners were treated like heroes.
    Losers sulked until bedtime.
    Brawls often broke out, especially among the boys, until someone—usually Tuck—broke them up and sent the rivals in opposite directions to cool off.
    Two boys lost teeth, their bloody gums less of a concern than their ruined brackets.
    When the kids weren’t playing chess, they were discussing strategies and making plans.
    Breakfast gossip generally revolved around the previous evening’s results.
    Friendships were forged or frayed over a single tournament.
    The best moments of the day were when the kids were deep into their matches, tensions high and moods volatile. A single move across the checkered board could result in half a dozen bloody lips or swollen eyes by lights-out. More than one board was swept clean by the forearm of an angry opponent.
    Avery enjoyed the matches so much that when she was watching she actually liked living in the castle—felt like she belonged.

    Late one night, several weeks since she’d arrived at the castle, Avery stood watching a pair of players arrange their pieces in preparation for a game.
    “Do you play?” a voice behind her asked.
    She turned to see Tuck and shook her head.
    “I find it interesting,” he said, his voice low, “that the king is the most prized and protected piece, yet also one of the weakest.”
    Avery smiled, remembering the king giving in to Angelina’s demands for a marriage proposal. But Kate had been adamant that they not mention it to anyone, so she didn’t share this thought with Tuck.
    A signal was given and the children began poring over their boards, chess pieces clanking as pawns were collected.
    “Rumor has it,” Tuck said quietly, “the king is dying.”
    Avery looked at Tuck in confusion.
    “Everything he is doing right