Princess of Glass - Jessica Day George [66]
“Oh no, Your Highness,” Monsieur Flamonde trilled in dismay.
“Prince Christian, what’s all this, then?” King Rupert demanded.
Christian almost burst into hysterical laughter. Instead he wiped his mouth on a handkerchief and lurched out of the palace.
He didn’t bother to call for a carriage. He just stumbled down the street until he saw a hackney cab. It nearly ran him down, in fact. He flung himself into it, ignoring the driver’s cursing and brandishing of the whip, and yelled for the man to take him to Seadown House as quickly as possible.
When they reached the Seadowns’ front gate, the driver climbed down, grabbed Christian by the coat collar, and unceremoniously dumped him on the pavement. Christian reached into his pockets, searching for some money, but the man just rolled his eyes.
“Jus’ doan get in my cab again, yer daft drunk!” He climbed back onto the cab and sent the horse off at a trot.
Christian staggered through the gate and up the drive. The butler was so shocked by the prince’s appearance that he let him inside without a word, pointing toward the drawing room.
Christian managed to get himself through the drawing room door before collapsing. Looking up in a daze, he saw the Seadowns, Poppy, Roger, Marianne, and Dickon all staring down at him.
“What’s happening to me?”
“Two might do it,” Poppy said enigmatically. She plucked a bracelet from her work basket and tied it around Christian’s other wrist. “And Roger, another glassful of that horrid stuff, please.”
Dickon propped Christian up and Roger poured something foul down his throat, then guided his hand to break the glass on the hearthstones. Christian could only retch and mumble in response.
Then the green sparkles subsided, and so did the throbbing in his head.
“You’re in trouble, my lad,” Lord Richard told him when his vision cleared. “A creature known as the Corley has you in her sights.”
Christian sat up and stared at His Lordship.
“We’re doing our best to stop her,” Roger Thwaite said, his voice lower than Lord Richard’s. He helped Christian off the floor and onto a chair.
“Oh, good,” Christian mumbled.
Then he fainted. Again.
Invalid
But what if she discovers Poppy?” Eleanora sank a little deeper into the pillows of her bed. “She’ll be so angry!”
Her voice was little more than a whisper. She wanted to be brave, but lying in bed and hearing horrifying tales about the Corley had made her pray she would never see her “godmother” again.
In an effort to make her feel less useless, Roger had brought her several dusty old books he had discovered that told about the Corley—who she had been and why she had been banished to her strange glass palace. Eleanora had read them with sickening fascination, and now wished she hadn’t. Now she knew why the Corley wanted her, or Marianne. And now she knew what lengths the Corley would go to get what she wanted.
The Corley had once been a woman named Mary Bright, the wife of a famous naval captain back in the time of Great Queen Bethune. Her husband, the celebrated Captain Bright, had chased the Spanian pirates from Bretoner waters and been knighted as a reward. But when the Danes had attacked shortly after that, Captain Bright had changed sides and gone to command the Dane fleet, leaving behind his wife.
Instead Captain Bright had taken his “lucky charm” with him: his goddaughter, Mary Bess Corley. Mary Bess’s parents had died when she was only two, and the Brights had raised her as their own. Captain Bright had even named his ship The Corley in honor of her and her late parents, and never put to sea without his goddaughter’s blessing. But Mary Bess had fallen in love with the Crown Prince of the Danelaw, and King Haakon had promised that she would marry his son if Captain Bright would engineer Breton’s downfall.
Driven to madness by her husband’s betrayal and abandonment, Mary Bright had turned to magic. The daughter of a glassblower and a village wisewoman, Mary conjured a ship of glass, crewed by mute glass sailors, and sent it after her husband’s ship.