Queen Of Glass

Chapter 15

Roland DeHavilliard walked through the royal gardens, his hands resting casually in his pockets. It was sunset and the fading light was magnificently reflecting off of the glass spires of the palace, throwing a golden hue into the air. He liked to have these moments alone; away from the mindless chatter and heavy perfume of the women that he surrounded himself with. His looks and charms allowed for him to seduce any woman that he wanted; yet Roland sometimes got so tired and frustrated with them that he wished he could tear them to pieces.
Which was why he was alone at the moment.
An older member of the court—some unnamed duchess—had actually had the nerve to approach him with an invitation to her bed. He was not a whore for their amusement and pleasure. Roland liked to hunt—he slept where he chose...invited or not.
He was lucky that Dorian tolerated him—Roland's own father didn't. In fact, that was part of the reason that he was here right now. If not for his dear mother, Roland's father would have thrown him out of the house a week ago. Some bitch had come whining to his father, complaining that Roland had gotten her pregnant with child, and insisting that he marry her before the bastard was born.
Of course, Roland hadn't cared—he didn't even recognize her. She wasn't a member of his mother's court, but she claimed to be some rich merchant's daughter...a fact that his father had taken very seriously.

Despite being part of the immediate DeHavilliard family, Roland's father did not have as much money as others liked to think. In fact, their fates rested on how well Roland could marry—on how well that he could seduce.
Since Roland had refused to marry the woman, his father had claimed that if he didn't marry into a rich family soon... well, he'd be thrown out. Roland's mother, in his defense, promised to bring Roland to Renaril to find a bride. At dinner these past two nights he had looked for women he could possibly marry—and had found none.
Despite what he had earlier told Dorian, Roland had very little faith in love. Especially when money was on the line. Sure, some women struck him at first sight, but they very rarely lasted more than a week before he tired of them. In that respect, he was very much like his cousin, if not worse. Dorian at least left them gifts—Roland...well, what did he leave other than an occasional baby?
Roland would have liked to believe that he'd find his match, but somehow saying it was a lot easier than actually... believing in it wholly. Love and money were two things that did not go together. It was either his family's fate or... some woman. He'd go with money.
Sitting down on a stone bench alongside the gravel path, Roland ran through the list he'd compiled in the past two days of possible women to marry. The richest were always the most ugly and ancient—could he really stand marrying a sack of wrinkles just to bring his father out of debt? What he wanted was a face that he wouldn't have to shut his eyes against when he bedded her, but then again...didn't every man want that?
Roland smiled to himself.
There were nine lesser nobles in the palace right now. One of whom he'd already met. Lithaen Gordaina. He'd never heard of her before, so she couldn't be that rich.
However, he wouldn't mind being her lover until he found a suitable sack of sagging skin to wed. What of Dorian? Was he already her lover?
No, he'd seen Dorian interact with his lovers—she definitely was not one of his...yet. But even if his cousin were courting the Lady Lithaen, it wouldn't stop Roland from tasting her a little.
It was a dangerous thing to go after a woman that the Crown Prince of Adarlan had already marked as his own, but Roland couldn't help it. It felt strangely thrilling to decide to poach on his cousin's territory. Dorian didn't even suspect how bad Roland had gotten in the past year—he figured that he was some confused romantic.
Roland snorted. Like Hell I am.
A petite brunette passed by him, smiling at him meekly. She wasn't very pretty or refined—probably a lady-in-waiting.
But she'd do the job just fine.
Grinning, Roland stood up and followed after the woman. He hadn't been able to find the Lady Lithaen these past two nights, but he was sure that this woman would ease some of the hunger that had grown inside him.
Tomorrow, the hunt began.
O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Celaena Sardothien strolled through the royal gardens, skillfully ignoring every word that Madam Tul'rouse was saying to them. The assassin knew that she should be listening, but how could she listen to a woman who was no smarter than a rock? The woman had taken them outside for their lessons that day, declaring that they needed to observe casual court life as well as formal. Gods above help me if I ever bowed too formally on a casual occasion, Celaena thought with a smirk.
Celaena stopped and looked at a lovely bunch of yellow flowers along the gravel path. Their blue centers reminded her of Prince Dorian's eyes...
She shook her head, embarrassed at her girlish silliness. It had been six days since their night of eccentric billiards lessons and games. Celaena hadn't expected him to return; she hadn't even allowed herself to hope that he would. He