Queen Of Glass

Chapter 23

Kaltain R'ompier watched in rage-filled agony as Lithaen Gordaina and the Crown Prince of Adarlan sat at the end of a table, sharing a meal together. That whore had managed to weasel her way into being Dorian DeHavilliard's Yulemas lover! She should be at his side, not some no-named harlot! You stupid slut, I'll make you pay for this.
A hand stroked her arm timidly and Kaltain hid the snarl of disgust that rose to her face. Turning to face Duke Perringtonn, Kaltain batted her eyelashes and looked down at the table in false modesty as she turned her blush of anger into one of a simpering maiden.
The Duke had asked her to be his lover at the earliest time possible—and she had accepted, but had made him swear that they would not engage in fornication unless she were ready. Until she had the Crown Prince under her thumb, she'd have to heed Duke Perringtonn's requests and desires. But still...
Kaltain innocently removed her arm from him, and looked up into the large man's eyes with a flash of phony conjured youthful desire. Just enough to keep him biting her line. Before she could see his reaction, Kaltain rose and left the table, trying to quell her nausea. Despite her continual self-assurance that she had the Duke wrapped around her finger, Kaltain was still afraid that there might come a time when even her modest pleas and maneuvers might not hold sway with the man.
Her mask of innocence vanished as she approached the buffet table near which the prince and Lithaen Gordaina were seated. It was nearing midnight, the hour at which the King and Queen would enter the room and bestow their blessings upon all within...and give permission for the Yulemas lovers to make merry in their own rooms.
As Kaltain poured a glass of the Yuleberry wine for herself, she watched Dorian and his whore from the corner of her eye.
The girl's face was blushed, her eyes were bright, and there was laughter pouring from her mouth. The Crown Prince looked bewildered, but amused—his eyes only on his partner's face. He didn't even glance at the young women who were so obviously parading before him.
A vicious smile spread across Kaltain's face.
While Lithaen had bewitched Dorian DeHavilliard with her supposed intellect, Kaltain R'ompier was sure that in physical beauty, they could not be matched. The dark-haired girl considered her own face above all mortal contest— and the visage of a nobody like Lithaen Gordaina could never surpass her own.
The woman took a sip of the wine, clearing her face, and slunk over to their table, her eyelashes batting as they had before with an air of sweet disposition. Kaltain stopped before them (for they were sitting at the edge of the table) and leaned against it seductively with her back to Lithaen, looking at the Prince's handsome features.
How long had she desired him? How long had she wished for the touch of his lips against her own? How much longer would she have to wait to get that crown upon her head? Kaltain smiled slowly at the young man. "Merry Yulemas, your worship," she said huskily.
There was a snort, followed by the sound of contained laughter, which then burst into a full-fledged cackle. Kaltain whirled to stare upon Lithaen Gordaina, and did not hide the venom in her glare. The woman seemed to take no notice and continued to laugh, throwing her head in between her crossed arms on table to hide her face.
There was another fizzing noise and to Kaltain's horror, she saw the Crown Prince burst into hysterics as well, covering half his face with the arm that he had propped upon the table. Humiliated, but too proud to leave, Kaltain stared at the laughing pair—and then noticed the eight or nine wine glasses that littered the surface in front of them.

Gods above, they're drunk!
The Prince mastered himself and looked up at the fuming woman with a suppressed smile. "My apologies, Kaltain. Merry," his face contracted from his attempts to keep from laughing, "merry Yulemas to you as well."
More laughter from Lithaen's side of the table.
With a final scowl that turned into a delicate smile as she looked from Lithaen to the Prince, Kaltain raised her eyebrows. "I'm afraid that I have missed the joke, your highness. What could possibly be so amusing to you both? Has something happened? Who has looked the fool before you?"
"You," Lithaen said into her arms as her body heaved up and down with laughter.
The Prince's lips quivered.
"'Merry Yuuuuuulemas, your wooorship,'" the blond girl said mockingly, her voice deep in an extreme exaggeration of Kaltain's words and tone. The Prince burst into fits of laughter once again, and Kaltain fought down the urge to slap Lithaen across the face.
How dare she insult me in such a way? Just you wait, Lithaen Gordaina...you'll get your just rewards soon enough.
Kaltain stood in front of them until their laughter subsided and both of them were able to look her in the face without laughing. That wench had made a fool of her in front of the Crown Prince! Kaltain looked at Lithaen's casual attire and her eyes gleamed. It was time for pay back.
"I notice that you actually dressed according to Yulemas tradition, Lithaen Gordaina," Kaltain looked at her own waist and then looked at that of the woman. "Now I can see where all the food that you consume goes."
The smile on Lithaen's face wavered.
"Unless," Kaltain continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness "that belly is not from food, but from..." There was a nasty pause. "Roland, perhaps?"
The Crown Prince stiffened in his seat.
Lithaen exploded into laughter and once again buried her head in her arms. The woman had lost her wits entirely. How many glasses of that Yuleberry wine had she drunken?
She watched the Crown Prince from the corner of her eye—he seemed to have gotten over his drunken antics pretty quickly. He must not have drunk as much as his lover. Better to plant the seeds of mistrust now when he has his wits and she doesn't...
"What say you, your majesty?" said Kaltain with faux intellectual curiosity. "Do you think that Lithaen Gordaina is carrying Roland's child? Or maybe...Chaol's?"
Lithaen's laughter increased in volume. "Chaol?" Lithaen looked up, her face lit with amusement. "Chaol wouldn't go near me for all the world!" More chuckling. "I'm too dangerous for himmmmm," Lithaen said, her tongue dragging out the last word.
Dangerous? Kaltain watched Lithaen lay her head upon her arm and stare up lazily at Dorian DeHavilliard.
"But, you see," the girl continued, her speech blurred with alcohol, "Dorian's not afraid of meee...no, he and I read naughty books together. Yes, very naughty bookseseses. It's funny: you want him so badly, but he won't even look at you! All you get is a ball of lard like Duke Perringtonn to warm your bed! How is he, by the way? Can he find his manhood amongst his rolls of fat? Can you both even fit into a bed together?" She pounded her fist upon the table as she howled with laughter. "Anyway," she slightly regained her composure, "what's even funnier is that dear Dorian is at my beck and call—he's desperate to sleep with me! And I don't even want him! He wants me over you. You want him, but you can't have him—I don't want him, and I could have him at any time I desired! Isn't that hilarious? Me, an as—"