Princess of Glass by Jessica Day George Page A

red silk trim was wide and luxurious.
    "It is a very fine gown," Poppy admitted. "Thank you, Cousin Margaret."
    "You are quite welcome, my dear," Lady Margaret said, a knowing look on her face. "Does the prospect of wearing it entice you to attend at least the royal gala?"
    "It does," Poppy agreed graciously.
    "And that whatever it is you've been knitting is the same color," Marianne pointed out.
    "It's a stole," Poppy reminded her.
    She had, fortuitously, been knitting herself a stole out of
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    a fine yarn the exact color of these poppies. It would look stunning hanging from her elbows over the skirt of this gown. Everyone always told her that shades of violet and blue were her best colors, but Poppy had a certain fondness for red that she never got to indulge quite enough.
    Which, of course, Lady Margaret had figured out.
    "And don't worry about dancing," Lady Margaret told her. "At a gala like this one, there will be a great deal to keep you occupied. No cards, but food and music and fireworks. Acrobats and fire-eaters in the garden as well."
    Marianne twirled around in delight. "And scientific displays of strange machines, and poetry readings, and all kinds of things. When King Rupert hosts a gala, he spares no expense."
    "Apparently," Poppy said.
    She wondered, briefly, what it would have been like to be a princess growing up in the massive Tuckington Palace, with fire-eaters and gala balls. She herself had had to share a bedchamber and also a maid with two of her sisters. And until very recently, when Westfalin's economy finally took a turn for the better, she had only gotten new gowns for very special occasions like Rose's and Lily's weddings. After all, she had four older sisters to pass on their wardrobes.
    Someone tapped at the door and came in. It was Ellen, and she had a pile of freshly washed and ironed linens. At least they probably had been freshly washed and ironed at some point, but now Poppy could see at least one scorch mark and something like fine soot dusted across on the white cloth. She sighed. Ellen always had soot on her these days, and would
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    never say why. There was a streak of it on her forehead right now. Since their confrontation last week, Ellen had refused to even make eye contact with the princess, and her household skills had degenerated even further.
    "Why are there cinders on Poppy's shifts?" Marianne blew across the pile as Ellen set her basket on a chair.
    Another sigh, this one from Ellen.
    Lady Margaret put a restraining hand on her daughter's arm. "Ellen," she said kindly, "did you still want to go to the royal balls?"
    "Yes, Your Ladyship," Ellen said demurely, but Poppy could swear she saw a secretive look in the girl's eyes.
    "There is still time for me to have Monsieur Delatour make a gown for you," Lady Margaret said. "Or you are much of a size with Poppy and Marianne. We could retrim one of theirs ..." Her voice trailed off as the young maid shook her head vehemently, shedding more black powder onto Poppy's clothes and the floor.
    "No, thank you, my lady. I have a patroness who has provided me with gowns." Ellen's voice was wooden, and Poppy's eyes narrowed.
    The other girl was hiding something: glee, disdain, some other emotion. And why? If there was someone willing to help her, why shouldn't she let the Seadowns know?
    Lady Margaret had the same question.
    "How lovely, my dear! Who is it?"
    "She wishes to remain anonymous," Ellen said silkily. And then she turned and flounced out of the room.
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    Marianne rolled her eyes, but Poppy didn't smile. Something was going on with Ellen, something beyond bad manners and worse domestic skills.
    "If you two will excuse me," Poppy said, with far more grace than Ellen would ever be able to muster. "I really must write to my sisters." And Galen, she added mentally.
    "To tell them about the gown, and how you're going to the royal gala with us?" Marianne raised one eyebrow.
    "Yes, yes," Poppy lied. Though she might actually mention her