The Glass Sea “Three Days ~ Two Kings ~One Crown ~ One Woman ~ One Choice”

By Danielle E. Kullman

Fin, the crown prince of Caledonia, is fatally burned in the assassination attempt that claimed the life of his father. Slowly dying from his injuries, Fin seeks revenge upon the man who killed his father. Seeing his bravery, the demi-god Llyr, offers him life for 100 years if Fin willingly enslaves himself to him. Fin, in order to regain his crown and continue his forbidden love affair with the woman he cannot forget, no matter how hard he tries— accepts.

After serving Llyr for fifty years, Fin returns to his kingdom to find that his cold-hearted nephew has claimed the throne. He must free himself from bondage to Llyr, reclaim his kingdom, and reconcile with the love of his life. To achieve this he must find an enchanted sword, journey deep into the mountains to recover the Holy Grail, and he will need the help of fifteen year old Tara, the most powerful wizard in the kingdom. Hunted and feared for her ability to read minds, Tara is attempting to use her powers to break her mother out of prison while still hiding them from the world. Tara’s future and Fin’s past intertwine seamlessly as they discover the way to their future and to reconcile the past.

The Glass Sea will sweep you away on a journey you will never forget. Deeply passionate, with rich descriptions and layered narratives, connecting past, present, and future through memories, tales, and visions, The Glass Sea weaves a complicated web of true love and loyalty. From a long lost prince to an outcast sorceress, the multifaceted cast is made up of a rich array of characters all searching for the happily ever after. The Glass Sea combines over one hundred years of romance and adventure, set in the magical land of Caledonia, all narrated over the course of the three days leading up to Christmas Day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brighton Publishing LLC
• Release date: May 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781621833635

Danielle E. Kullman

Danielle Erin Kullman lives in Fort Worth, Texas. She graduated from the University of North Texas summa cum laude with a Bachelor’s of Science Degree in Applied Behavior Analysis with a minor in Mathematics at the age of nineteen. She has always loved reading and writing, and took many advanced elective literature courses. She has been writing creatively since the age of twelve. From a very young age she enjoyed George Lucas’s Star Wars films and Jane Austen’s novels. Along with her favorite pastime, writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, going to the theatre, and taking long walks with her dogs. She holds a commission with the US Air Force. Her favorite authors include: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Michael Oondatje, John Grisham, Stephen King, and Richard Bach.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Tara

"Once upon a time, he was the prince of a great kingdom. But he didn’t appreciate his kingdom. He was selfish and didn’t listen to all the lessons his teacher taught him. He avoided school, preferring to go and ride his horses or sail his ship. He loved his father, the king, very much, but he didn’t always obey him. The king knew that his son would one day learn to appreciate the position he was born to, and he hoped that one day the boy would listen to his wise words.

And then, one day, tragedy struck. The king was murdered, and so the prince sought to avenge his death. Out of guilt and grief, the prince ran away, forsaking his throne in order to hunt the murderer to the ends of the earth. His quest has taken him many years. He has journeyed very far, and now he is fighting powerful forces of evil in order to reclaim his kingdom, the man said. He nodded to a man who was sitting alone at the bar.

Is that true? his daughter asked, looking at the man curiously.

Probably not. He always does this when he goes to clubs, the girl’s mother said.

It’s entertaining and you know it, the man said, smiling broadly.

Of course it is, the woman said. She leaned against him as he wrapped his arm around her. They loved each other; they were happy. They’d been married twenty-five years.

I frowned as I studied them. He was older than his wife by several years. It didn’t seem to matter to them, though. They’d been in love for many years. His name was Derek and hers was Molly. They worked on and flew the ships at the palace.

Can we go now? the man with them asked. He was their son. His name was Nathanial. That was odd. How could he be their son when he didn’t look much older than the wife? I probed deeper. He was the man’s son. Adopted. I don’t like clubs.

We’re here for your sister’s benefit. By exposing her to clubs, she will not be tempted to run off to one in the middle of the night, Derek said. He patted Nathanial’s hair as he laid his head on the table.

That’s the theory anyway, Molly said as she squeezed the daughter’s arm.

I wouldn’t do that, the daughter said laughing. She wouldn’t. She had no desire to. Her name was Miranda. She was enjoying herself, but the club did not overly impress her. In fact, she would have rather had dinner at home with her parents and brother, despite the excuse for the fancy dress. And it was a pretty dress, made of shimmery silver and white fabric that rested naturally on her smooth pale skin. She looked like her father, with the same dark hair, the same blue eyes, and the same mischievous grin. That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t beautiful, because she was. Her hair was curly like her mother’s, and she carried herself with the same confidence that her mother did. Her mother, wearing a pale pink dress and her red hair in curls, was pretty as well.

But the daughter was tall and lanky like her father, making her more of a beauty, if a dangerous one. She was the sort most boys would be scared of, while I was the sort that boys overlooked. I was short and slim and plain with ugly straight brown hair and a serious, unsmiling face and small hazel eyes. It bothered me that they over looked me, the plain short girl. She didn’t know how pretty she was. That she didn’t know she was attractive almost made me like her more. The girls who did know they were attractive were insufferable; it went completely to their heads. I was under no illusions about my appearance. I couldn’t be, everybody’s opinion about my looks were quite clear.

You never know, you may have wild teenage fantasies, her father said, smiling slyly.

I don’t like clubs, Nathanial said. His head was still on the table. He was different—his thoughts. They were mechanical and simplistic. He knew about mechanics, engines, the way things moved. That was all he thought of really, that and his family. He was very attached to his father.

That’s because I did my job the first time, Derek said.

Aww, poor Nathanial, did he traumatize you? the mother asked, smiling and petting his head.

Yes, he said, not picking his head up.

It wasn’t long enough to traumatize you. It was five minutes. We barely got in the door, Derek said laughing.

I found myself smiling as well. It was fun to watch happy families, and in lonely clubs, it was rare to see one. They didn’t frequent clubs. It was a shame. I would probably never see them again. It was still a pleasure to watch, though. It was clear that they all cared about each other.

Tara, are you going to stare at the customers or serve them their drinks? Nicholas, my boss, asked from behind my shoulder. I’d been so focused on watching the family that I hadn’t even felt his approach.

Sorry, sir, I said and prepared to dart off with the tray of drink’s I’d been standing with.

No, what’s gotten into you tonight? he asked, frowning in concern. Do you need to go home? He was genuinely concerned that I might not be feeling well or that there might be problems at home taking my mind off of work. I knew that he was a sorcerer, but he hadn’t used dark magic in years. It had worried me at first, but he had yet to suspect me, so now I liked him. He was always fair to us girls who worked in his club. That was why I felt bad lying to him. But I lied to everyone, nice or not.

Nothing, sir, sorry. I’m just thinking about school tomorrow, I said. I ducked my head so that I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.

Do you need to go home? he asked. He would have let me if I’d asked. He had enough help to cover the shift.

No, sorry, my mind just drifted off a minute. It won’t happen again, I apologized again.

All right, finish this round and then go on up to the concert floor. The royals are in tonight, and you’re the only one I can rely on not to go funny over them, he said, smiling tolerantly.

Yes, I said, nodding. The princes came in every week or so and sat on the concert floor, which was a little circular raised eating area where the band played. I didn’t go funny over them because I didn’t like their minds all that much. The youngest was nice, but he wasn’t anything to go funny over either. They were a scheming, slippery lot from what I saw. As a rule I didn’t probe their thoughts too deeply; the surface ones were grating enough. All the other waitresses adjusted their hair and stared at them blankly losing the ability to speak because they were princes, and all of them were good looking. This was going to make my evening long, just when I’d been enjoying myself watching the family.

Four orange juices, I said, going over to the family and setting their drinks in front of them. Will there be anything else?

How do we leave? Nathanial asked.

Same way you got in, I said, smiling a bit at him. He had a lot of magic coming off of him, including dark magic. Interesting, the father was a sorcerer. That explained the presence of dark magic.

We’re fine thanks, the mother said, smiling back quickly. She had a nice smile. I noticed her wrist; she wore a silver Guardian bracelet. Interesting, he was a sorcerer she was a Guardian. I had known that they were an interesting couple. Both sorcerers and Guardians were sworn to keep their powers a secret by their respective secret societies, but generally they had opposing goals. Guardians were sworn to protect Caledonia at all costs, and sorcerers generally opposed law and order. He wasn’t one of the radicals, though. He just liked using dark magic, like a Necromancer, it came easily to him and it was fun.

Jenna, the other waitress, will be helping you. I’ve been moved, I said then nodded to a blonde who was staring at the princes on the concert level.

All right, thank you, the father said, smiling politely at me as well.

Enjoy your evening, I said then walked over to the bar. The man the family had been looking at was at the end near the concert level, which meant that I would get to help him as well. After their discussion, I wanted to probe his mind to see who he really was. I’d talk to him first, though. I knew better than to mind probe without first doing a preliminary character check.

He was an interesting looking fellow. Dressed in a plain, dark-brown leather suit and wearing thick, red-tinted glasses, he looked distinctly out of place. Not that his clothes were wrong or anything about him was particularly odd, it was just an entire aura about him. And apparently Derek had felt something of it as well, which prompted him to create the story. The man was older; he looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties. He had silver hair slicked neatly back, and his skin was pasty and wrinkled.

Hello, my name is Tara. I’ll be serving you tonight. What can I get for you? I asked, smiling pleasantly at him.

Hello, Tara, my name is Nemo, he said, smiling as well. He was lying. Nemo was not his name. That I could see that clearly. He’d just decided to use that name when I told him mine. Tell me, how do you come to be named after the place where kings are crowned?

It’s where my father proposed to my mother, the Tara Plaza. So my mother named me after it because she thought it sounded strong. In my father’s defense, he wanted to name me Elizabeth, but that’s only because he wanted to call me Liz and Lizzie and rhyme it with stuff, I said, smiling fondly. The man didn’t have a cruel mind. It was deceiving, but not cruel. He was very intelligent, but he held no malice toward me or any other random person. But why had he used a false name?

I shouldn’t monopolize you, Tara. You have important guests, he said then glanced up at the princes who were slumped in a booth above us.

Can I get you anything first? I asked.

Do they still serve raspberry cream ice cream here? he asked. His eyes glittered past the thick glasses. The man had been at the club before many years ago. I’ve only just returned from the mines in the North Country.

I’ll go and ask, I said. The North Country was the ice cap at the top of the world. Caledonian corporations had had oil mines up there for centuries. So that was where he’d been, probably since he was a boy.

Get to your royal guests first. I’ll sit and listen to the sad music, he said, calmly. He just liked being there, listening to the sad music that was always playing. He really didn’t mind if I took a minute. I wanted to probe his mind, but I did have to get to the royals.

I glanced up quickly before walking up the twisted metal stairs. All five of the royal children were there. That was interesting because the girl didn’t usually come when her brothers did. She was a delicate looking thing, pretty enough, but sad looking with long blond hair and big blue eyes that saw into the future. She was a soothsayer, so I avoided being near her at all costs. I didn’t need her seeing whatever my future was, which probably involved her discovering me and telling any one of her family members.

The boys were slumped at various angles. In the dim, flickering lights of the club, in their Rank 8 uniforms and gold short haircuts, the three older ones were almost completely identical. Of course, the crown prince, Septimus, and the second one, Cassian, were identical twins. The only way to tell them apart was by the tattoo of a phoenix on the younger ones left cheek and their different facial expressions. The younger of the twins, Cassian, had a more relaxed, serene face. The crown prince had a much more devilish expression; his eyes flitted about, studying everything, and his lips were set, refusing to smile. The third son, Fletcher, had a leaner, more calculating look, hungrier in some way; his features were generally like his older brother’s, but he actually looked more like the king than they did. His features were hard, and his hair and skin just a shade paler than his father’s. The fourth son, Gideon, looked nothing like the others; he had deep brown hair, big brown eyes, and a freckled innocent face. He was not dressed in a Rank 8 uniform, or in a trainee uniform. Instead he was wearing a dark-blue leather suit. He would have been my favorite of the brothers, except he was a guardian and, therefore, not to be entirely trusted, in my opinion. Guardians had too much power to be trusted.

Swallowing molten gold, Prince Fletcher said. He adjusted himself so that he was more horizontal than before.

Running on own sword, Prince Cassian said then picked up a piece of fruit from the center of the table.

Cyanide-laced pudding, Prince Gideon, the youngest said as he sat up a bit and adjusted his jacket.

Walking off a cliff in the middle of the night, Princess Moira, the only girl, said. She fiddled with the long chain of pearls about her neck. She was wearing a pale lavender dress and had jewel-crusted flower pins holding back her hair.

This is a very stupid discussion—Ah, girl with the nice hands, stay there, Prince Septimus said. He picked up a napkin and put it on one knee then proceeded to pull a pencil from his pocket.

Very good, Your Highness, I said, stopping a few feet from the table.

No, with your hands on the glass. I can’t draw your hands if they’re at your sides, can I? Prince Septimus said, motioning for me to put my hands out as though I were to pick up his glass and refill it.

Don’t be boorish to the waitress–again, Prince Cassian said. He was close to my favorite, because he was chivalrous like that. He was a hothead, but he didn’t like to see anybody being treated badly, especially not women. Even when that woman was a waitress he didn’t even know.

It’s not stupid to discuss preferred methods of suicide. It’s quite practical. That way, if one of us dies and it’s made to look like suicide, we’ll know if it was actually suicide or if it was simply made to look like suicide, Prince Fletcher said.

Unless one of us does it, Prince Septimus said, dryly, glancing up at my hands quickly and then back down at his sketch.

Anyway, we wouldn’t be having the discussion in the first place if you’d just answered our question, Prince Cassian said.

I’m telling you, I fell down the stairs, Prince Septimus said, irritated. He was often irritated. I did my best to block out their thoughts. I didn’t care what they were talking about or why. But I did notice that his face was bruised, as though he’d been hit squarely across the nose with a cricket bat.

It doesn’t look like you fell down the stairs. Here, you tell us what you think his face looks like, Prince Cassian said, motioning to me.

Um, like he was hit with a cricket bat. But I really don’t know what falling down stairs would look like, I said. It was disrespectful not to answer, but I also didn’t want to be involved in the argument.

Sep, we’re only trying to help with whatever’s going on. We want to know because we care about you, Prince Gideon said. He had a bad feeling about it, whatever it was that was going on with his brother. That made me curious—but no, I should not mind probe. I already wanted to mind probe the newcomer, Nemo, and I allowed myself to do that because it felt harmless. He was a nobody, and his memories would be harmless entertainment, just like the family earlier. Mind probing the princes was another story. Besides, they all wore cross necklaces that were enchanted to repel dark magic and hamper my probes. I could still get through, but it would take more work.

I fell down the stairs. Got it? Prince Septimus asked condescendingly, not looking up from his drawing of my, apparently, nice hands. He was often condescending as well as irritated.

Which stairs? Prince Fletcher asked. Now he was irritated.

The ones to the foyer, since you must know, Prince Septimus said.

And why were you there in the middle of last night? Prince Fletcher asked.

I couldn’t sleep, so I was trying to walk. Why the inquisition? Prince Septimus asked angrily.

I was in the foyer all night last night, sitting in one of the arm chairs, and I didn’t see you at all, Prince Fletcher said, pleased with himself. He wasn’t lying, it didn’t seem. Why he’d been in the foyer of his castle all night I didn’t even want to know.

Why on earth were you in the foyer all night? Prince Septimus asked, quite angry now. He looked up from his sketch. I considered taking the opportunity to collect his glass, but I didn’t want to anger him more.

I’m not going to tell you unless you give me a more reasonable explanation for what happened last night, Prince Fletcher said. Their father the King had asked him to do it, with good reason apparently, since Septimus was lying. Quit that. I didn’t even want to know why Septimus was lying.

Sod off, Prince Septimus said then went back to his drawing.

I want to go home, Princess Moira said.

Oh, I’m so glad we’ve had this nice little sibling chat. Why do we do this every week? Prince Septimus asked mockingly.

Because it makes Mom think that we get along and have nice talks, which makes her happy. And it helps Dad’s paranoia, because he thinks we’re plotting against him when we do this. So if we didn’t, then he’d always be worried about when we were plotting against him, Prince Fletcher explained. Anyway, we’re meant to be celebrating Cass being made captain of the guard. We’re only interrogating you because you showed up looking as though you’d lost a fight with a hurley.

Dad made you captain of the guard? Prince Septimus asked.

Congratulations, Your Highness, I said, because it felt impolite not to say anything when I was standing right there. I didn’t really know what a captain of the guard did. It just seemed the captain of the guard always investigated and oversaw important-sounding things. From what I heard, the previous captain of the guard hadn’t done very well solving some upper-class robberies. That was just gossip, though, and I didn’t pay all that much attention to it.

Thank you, Cassian said.

Oh yeah, that was today. When do you start? Prince Gideon asked nicely.

Tomorrow morning, Mom’s stupid brother is furious at Dad for having me replace him, so he’s not relinquishing powers until sunrise, Prince Cassian said with a shrug. He was almost embarrassed at all the attention. And he was nervous about his new duties.

I didn’t know Dad was going to appoint you, Prince Septimus said, irritated. He looked back down at his drawing. It wasn’t quite to his liking just yet.

Yeah, that’s because you buggered off—pardon my language—the minute Parliament was over, Prince Cassian said, finally sounding irritated. He really was nervous about doing well at his new job. And he’s looked like that all day. His Majesty couldn’t get the truth about what happened out of him. They called their father by his title in public, although they always thought of him as their dad.

Oh has he? That means it really did happen last night, Prince Fletcher observed. He was not at all irritated. He was comfortable, even during the tense discussion, which made me dislike him.

Wait until Mom sees you. She’ll cry, Prince Gideon predicted. Their mother, the queen, was, from what they said then and previously, of a delicate disposition. From my unwilling eavesdropping, it sounded as though their father was the opposite of the delicate disposition.

Can we stop arguing? He’s not going to tell us, Princess Moira said suddenly. She didn’t like their arguing; she didn’t really like any of her brothers, largely because of the visions she got from them.

Chapter 2

I sighed and looked off across the room. I was tired of their discussion and their buzzing minds, and I especially tried to ignore Princess Moira’s mind. Knowing what any of the royals were thinking or doing or would be doing would only lead to trouble. I didn’t want to be tempted or to know anything because it might lead to discovery and execution, and I didn’t want to die. My eyes wandered over the room to Nemo. I wanted to probe his mind, and it would be a good way to get my mind off of the royals. So I gave into temptation and looked into his thoughts. He was remembering the last time he’d sat at that bar. That was harmless enough to spy on, so I reached in and watched his memory.

***

Can I have a drink? I asked Waters hopefully as I sat down on one of the spinning chairs at the long, green glass bar. The club was nearly empty, save the singer belting out a melancholy tune on the upper floor. We were late; most of the patrons had gone.

No, he said quickly as an amused glint appeared in his dark eyes.

It’s legal, you’re a responsible adult, I said, even though I knew it would do me no good. I was just happy to get out of Kronborg for the evening. My father was being remarkably fair given the fit I’d had earlier that day and then skipping out of school after that.

My mother would beg to differ, his son, Eugene, said dryly as he sat down next to me. Eugene was only a few years older than me, but he acted and looked like he was fifty. It was partly his disposition, and it was partly due to the fact that he was an albino. His skin was nearly white, and his hair was white like that of an old man’s.

Very funny, you, his father said, grinning good-naturedly despite the cheeky remark.

Just be glad we’ve taken you with. We could have very well left you back at the castle, the earl said. He sat at the bar on the other side of Waters.

You couldn’t if my father ordered you to, I said, haughtily, for the sake of it.

I highly doubt he’d be that insistent that you go to a bar, Eugene said, looking as though he was trying not to roll his eyes.

What can I bring you? Kit asked as he walked up on the other side of the bar. Kit was the son of the groundskeeper of Kronborg. He was about ten years older than I was, but he always found time to play cricket or rugby with me. My father liked him as well and often gave him jobs at the palace. He was the one who called him Kit. The groundskeeper, Lorna, always called him by his full name, Christopher. Lorna was weird; I didn’t like her all that much. She talked to my father all the time because they had grown up together, so he liked her. That was largely why I didn’t. He wasn’t always nice to me, but from what I saw, he was always nice to her.

Once I’d been hiding in the bushes by the lake, watching the birds and avoiding school in general. Lorna swam into the lake to get a lure that one of the hunting dogs hadn’t. My father came up and watched her swim back.

And how is my fair lady of the lake? he’d asked, smiling that affectionate smile I never saw enough.

You shouldn’t be down here, she said, looking as though she was pretending to be cross.

How was I yesterday? he’d asked, still smiling as he helped her up.

I’m not going to tell you, she’d said. She looked as though she wanted to tell him and walked away so that he couldn’t see that she wasn’t that cross.

That bad, eh? he’d asked. He caught her arm. Please and sorry?

I’m not going to tell you; you’ll have to find him yourself, she’d said and then removed her arm from his grip. The way he kept looking at her with her dark-brown dress clinging to her wet body bothered me. He didn’t look at my mother like that.

You know where he is. I don’t have long. I’ve got to be back in Parliament, he pleaded. They were talking about me, I could tell. I was surprised. The day before he hadn’t cared about my feelings, let alone the fact that I’d cut out of school again.

For his sake, my father said with a sigh. You of all people know how hard it is on him.

The grandmaster’s been cruel to him, not letting him off those stupid battle simulators and such. And yesterday you ordered his favorite horse be put down because it was a waste of money to keep treating its leg, she said.

I did? Blast it. No wonder he’s run off again. I’ll give him the colt and say he can train it. That should help. My father groaned. He did give me the colt to train, and he apologized for having my old mount destroyed.

Ignore me or tell me you hate me when I’m like that or do anything to snap me out of it. Please? he’d said when he found me hiding up a tree. I don’t mean it. I just get busy and stressed with everything, and I don’t always think.

All right, I’d said, but by then I was more upset about the conversation I’d overhead between Lorna and my father than the horse. And that was a lot, considering how much I’d loved that horse. It just hadn’t felt right, the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her, and the way that they could have a conversation as if they knew each other’s thoughts. I’d been glad to get the colt, though, my beloved Kilain. He was a handsome yearling, a deep rich black. I longed to work him; he was just getting a taste for jumps. But, sadly, I would have school in the morning, and my father would get very cross if I missed too many days. He might take my Kilain away.

Kit? What are you doing here? the earl of Canterbury asked, sitting up and taking notice.

I got a job here, Kit said.

You work for me, the earl said.

Do you have any idea how little you pay me? Kit asked.

How did you even get a job here? You’re a soldier; you’re not qualified, or whatever, to tend bar. Why did you even want to? the earl asked, incredulously.

That’s exactly what the owner said. And I said ‘Because the Phoenix’s Nest is the only club in the city that plays sad music all the time. All the others play cheerful songs and life is sad.’ And he said, ‘You know, that’s exactly why I started this place,’ Kit explained.

I’ll have a brandy, Waters said, leaning on the bar.

I know what you drink, Kit said to the earl.

He’ll have the ice cream; bring me chocolate cake, Eugene said, messing up my hair playfully.

Raspberry cream? Kit asked.

Yeah, fine. Why aren’t you drinking? You’re of age, I said to Eugene.

Alcohol dulls the senses and slows reaction time, Eugene said seriously.

Yes, very good, my son. Just repeat that when your mother is around, will you? his father said with a grin.

How’d you get him to do that? the earl asked.

I take no credit whatsoever. He was born middle aged and serious, Waters said with a shrug. His brother’s absolutely nothing like him. He’s already smiled, and he plays with toys.

Oh very funny. Mother says not to take anything he says seriously, Eugene said, smiling just the same.

How is your little one, by the way? Walking yet? the earl asked before taking a drink of his whiskey

No, the lazy thing. He talks all the time though. He and his mom are coming up this weekend for a visit, Waters said, happily. He loved both his sons, always. I don’t think I ever saw him get mad at Eugene or do anything he knew would hurt him. He was the opposite of my father. Sometimes he was completely insensitive and didn’t even remember conversations or what I liked and didn’t. Sometimes he was like Waters was with his son, completely at ease, warm, affectionate, normal. It drove me mad sometimes, and it drove my mother mad too. I could see it. She just wanted him to be one way or the other.

My wife’s bringing my little Katherine up as well. They’ve been at Glamis for the last week. Believe it or not, I’ve missed getting woken up at five in the morning, the earl said.

This one still gets up at five in the morning, Waters said, nodding to Eugene, who was serenely eating his cake.

You wouldn’t, I said. I looked at him suspiciously with the spoon of ice cream halfway to my mouth.

If you are asking if fencing practice starts at five in the morning, the answer is yes, Eugene said as he scraped his plate with his fork to keep it clean and neat.

I groaned and laid my head on the table.

What? the earl said with a laugh.

My handsome, intelligent—

Dad, shut up, Eugene said, rolling his eyes.

Hardworking talented boy got appointed grandmaster because clever beggar here complained about his last one working him too hard, Waters finished and then leaned over to punch his son on the shoulder.

Suddenly I’m glad I have a daughter who won’t go into military school, the earl said, still grinning.

We have to start early to give him enough hours on the simulator, Eugene said with a shrug.

I’m going to die, I moaned.

Entirely unlikely, Kit said, patting my head.

Well, I’m off, Eugene said. He finished eating and then pushed his stool back.

You’re going back to the courts at this time of night? Nobody’ll be there, the earl said.

No, I’m going to meet Gillian, Eugene said.

His girlfriend, Waters said, raising his eyebrows.

Gillian is so—so not my girlfriend. She is the opposite of my girlfriend. She is not my girlfriend in any way, shape, or form. She couldn’t possibly be my girlfriend, Eugene said as he shook his head adamantly. I didn’t say anything because I believed him. He was sweet on my aunt Glorianna, not this Gillian person. I’d seen the way he looked at her during the previous annual Christmas dance at Gloucester.

Guess who’s got a crush on you, I’d whispered to her as we stood by the windows feeling the cold draft through the thick glass and watching the other dancers in their glittering gowns and stiff leather suits.

Who? she asked with a little laugh. She was my mother’s sister, so she spent most of her time visiting my mother and me. Even though we were only about ten years apart, she was like a second mother to me.

Eugene, I said with a grin. He’s been watching you all night.

Waters’s son, the albino? Oh he has, you’re right, she said, ducking her head and giggling.

Give him a dance, then, I said, encouraging her.

No, he’s just a boy, she said.

So? That would make his night. Anyway, you’d probably get on very well with him. He’s very stiff and boring and reads all sorts of military things. He’s very intense, I said.

Why are you playing matchmaker? she asked, teasingly.

Because he seems lonely, and it is Christmas, I said. I’ve never heard him talking about any girls. He hasn’t even got a date tonight. I’ve got Buckingham’s cousin, even if she is giggly.

No, she said. And in case you’ve forgotten, it’s the man who does the asking for the dance.

Oh come on, why not? It’s Christmas. He hasn’t danced all night, I said. Just be friendly and ask him why he isn’t dancing and then he’ll probably get the nerve to ask you.

How do you know he even knows how to dance? she asked.

Have you seen him on the fencing court? Anybody who can bounce about that quickly has had dance lessons, I said. I know the only reason I took dance lessons was because Kit insisted it would help me beat Eugene.

Did it? she asked.

"No, he’s left handed, but that’s beside the