Queen Of Glass

Chapter 18

Celaena Sardothien sat by one of the many massive glass windows that lined her bedroom and watched the snow falling outside. There was only a week until Yulemas left, and the world was frosted in the sparkly-white snows of winter. The balmy, warm autumn that they had enjoyed had turned into a harsh, freezing winter in only a week. She pulled her blanket closer around her, the heat of the roaring fireplace not adequately reaching her seat by the window.
"Milady, here is the tea that you asked for. Be careful, for it is scalding hot." The maid placed the steaming cup on the table beside Celaena.
"Thank you, Farana," she replied, and picked up the cup and saucer.
"Are you feeling any better, milady?" the woman asked.
Celaena shook her head. "The cramping has yet to cease, but hopefully this tea will ease some of the pain." "Will you be requiring anything else, milady?"

"No, thank you," Celaena said and dismissed the maid. She placed the teacup back down, deciding it was too hot to drink, and put a hand on her belly. The cramping had begun this morning when she had awoken to an extremely bloated and sore belly. It had been a sign of some relief, for while working in the mines, her moonblood had stopped all together.
In the two months that she had been free from the darkness of Endovier, Celaena had gained so much weight that she was afraid she was bordering on 'pleasantly plump.' Despite Prince Dorian's constant reassurance that she was still thin, Celaena couldn't help but feel like a cow in a dress. It didn't help that she was also always hungry.
Or the fact that my stomach is so swollen right now that I resemble a woman with child, she thought depressingly. Unable to fit into her corset under such conditions, Celaena Sardothien had sent down to Madam Tul'rouse a note that explained her ill condition. The batty woman had replied quickly, telling Celaena to take all the time she needed—for she understood how it felt to have difficulty with such matters.
Stupid whale—when was the last time you had your moonblood?
She scowled and returned her gaze to the falling snow. The snowflakes sparkled and danced beyond the glass panes, twirling and weaving in and out of each other as they flew to the ground in a waltz that was beyond human comprehension.
"I heard that you were feeling a bit unwell, so I thought I'd come to make sure that you weren't dead." It was Chaol. It had been a month and a half since they had made their apologies, yet the young man still kept his distance. This displeased her, but Celaena knew better than to hope for anything more. He still came to visit her several times a week, and often walked with her from one lesson to another (for she was no longer escorted from place to place).
There was now a wide array of physical trainers that kept on pouring in for their combating sessions, several of whom were men sent straight from the front. Nothing had changed in her lessons with Tul'rouse except for the fact that woman seemed to have taken Celaena, or rather the Lady Lithaen, under her wing. This was well and good, for Celaena needed all the help that she could get (and the extra support when it came down to the final selection), but the woman was sometimes so ridiculously daft that the assassin wondered if her freedom was worth it.
"You look fine to me," Chaol said dully. "Just slightly freezing."
Celaena gave him a dirty look and adjusted herself in the large chair, her stomach beginning to protest from being in one position for too long.
"I'm a bit indisposed at the moment," she said. "I'd appreciate it if you took your leave." She looked at his face. There seemed to be so many unspoken thoughts...
"Roland hasn't been troubling you, has he?"
Her face colored and Celaena shook her head quickly. In the past seven weeks, she had kept far away from the lusty young man, hiding or walking in another direction whenever he approached. He made her uneasy—and Chaol hadn't bothered to leave out any of the details about Roland's character.
"Then, by the gods, what can possibly be the matter?"
She looked at him, her blush deepening. "I, uh..."
"What?"
You buffoon! How can you be so clueless? "It's my moon-time."
The color of his face changed to match hers. He blinked several times, and ran a hand through his brown hair. "In that case...uh, I...I'll leave you." Chaol bowed and left the room as quickly as his feet could carry him without running, tripping slightly in the doorway as he staggered into the rooms beyond.
Celaena took a sip of her tea and cursed as it burnt her tongue, almost dropping the cup onto her lap in surprise. Men were so silly when it came to these things. It was nothing to be embarrassed about—just something that needed to be respected.

She exchanged the saucer for the book that lay on the table beside her and snuggled down between the cushions of the chair and the warm folds of blanket, hoping that the written world would take her mind off of the twisting pain in her belly.
O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Kaltain R'ompier looked in the mirror with satisfaction at what she saw. She was absolutely perfect. From her ebony hair to her ivory skin, Kaltain R'ompier found herself to be as flawless as a porcelain doll. Which was why she was treated like one.
Despite her small rooms, Duke Perringtonn had managed to provide her with lovely furnishings, even lovelier jewels, and extremely expensive perfumes. She hated the old boar, but he was her only shot at gaining a throne beside Dorian DeHavilliard.
As long as she kept the fat fool happy, she'd continue dining in court (near the Crown Prince) and would continue to receive wonderful, meaningless gifts from Perringtonn. Kaltain dreaded the day that he would propose to her, but hoped by the time that day came, she'd have Dorian DeHavilliard so wrapped around her finger that she wouldn't mind telling the Duke off.
If only that wretched Lithaen Gordaina would get out of the picture.
Kaltain hated her more than any person she had ever known—no one tossed away an offer of friendship from her without consequence! Lithaen had humiliated Kaltain to the point where forgiveness was not an option. The witch had managed to ensnare The Crown Prince for her own devices and seemed to have befriended that disgusting, savage, worthless cow that dared to call herself a princess.
Scheming little slut.
In the past two months, Kaltain had taken enough abuse from the impertinent no-name girl who seemed to have the
Crown Prince tripping all over himself for her. How dare she interfere with her plans?
Now was the time to put to use the face and charms that had been granted to her by the gods. If she didn't make a move now, the bitch would have her claws dug so tightly into Dorian DeHavilliard that there would be no hope for the title of Queen for Kaltain R'ompier.
"Milady?"
Kaltain turned to the maidservant, irritated at being snapped out of her reverie. "What is it?" she hissed, her dark eyes flaming.
The woman took a step back in fear, her hands trembling slightly. You deserve the harsh side of my tongue, you pathetic excuse for a human being.
"It was just...just...t-that..." The servant's tongue stalled and stumbled. She looked like an animal about to be slaughtered. I should just slit your throat and put you out of your misery.
"Speak. You wear my patience thin." Kaltain picked up the glass brush that Duke Perringtonn had sent her and idly stroked her own long black hair.
Idiots like these should not be serving in this palace. Only the best should be used here, in the capital of the greatest and most powerful country in the world.
Of which I shall soon be Queen.
"You asked me to inform you of the Crown Prince's actions—and I just received information that he has gone to the
Lady Lithaen's room once more."
Fury and jealousy surged through Kaltain R'ompier with blinding speed. With a scream of hatred, Kaltain took the glass brush in her hands and hurled it against the wall across from her, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The maid gave a startled cry and then fled from the room.

Why wouldn't he come to her rooms one night? She flirted with the Crown Prince enough to entice him to visit...what did Lithaen Gordaina have that she didn't?
Nothing. She has no superior qualities. She is an common whore who the Prince will soon tire of. I have nothing to fear.
Yet, despite her own reassurance, Kaltain felt a knot of growing dread bloom within her. What if she didn't win the hand of the Prince? The thought of marrying Duke Perringtonn made her sick to her stomach.
I will be Queen. I was raised to be nothing one.
Kaltain closed her eyes and took deep, calming breaths. I won't allow for anyone to get in my way—not even Lithaen
Gordaina.
She opened her eyes and smiled, a plan already forming in her mind. She knew just the trick to get the Prince out of
Lithaen's bed and into hers.