Fire Glass

Chapter 1

Clouds move across the late afternoon sky, casting shadows onto the East Garden below. The gnarly oak tree that stands tall to the north of the garden creates shadows, which look like arms reaching out to the palace it has protected for more than a century. I squint to focus on the dark figures dancing just outside my peripheral vision from my watchful perch.

Tonight, my father is hosting the Grand Peace Talks between all the Elemental Fae. This is an unprecedented event. Never in our lifetime have the royal families from all the Elemental Fae gathered in one place. I've heard rumors that there have been attacks and threats against the other royal houses, but not here; the Fire Fae have only known peace. But it appears my father is taking no risks, and he has tripled the palace guard today. So, I know the afternoon shadows are playing tricks on my vision. No one would dare attack the palace tonight.

Today, I'll be officially anointed as princess, and I'll be thrust into the midst of courtship. I feel sorry for anyone who ruins my special night. I am Princess Rhiannon, and they will see my wrath like no other; they will pay dearly if they dare try to pull any stunts tonight.

"Princess, you must hurry. No time to be lazy in the afternoon sun," my maid, Gwendolyn, says as she flutters about the room. Gwen has cared for me since the day I was born. She is like a mother, grandmother, and sister, all wrapped up into one very robust package.

"I'm not being lazy, though the sun does feel nice for a change."
"I know, my dear, but your father has summoned you–"
"And he can wait until I'm dressed and ready!" I turn my back to the balcony and storm into

my private washroom. I don't mean to be rude to Gwen, but she makes me so mad sometimes.

Why does everyone have to drop everything they're doing just because my father snaps his fingers? He is not an unusually impatient or demanding King, and he is far from a cruel man.

"Princess Rhiannon, I'm sorry if I 'ave upset you," Gwen says in a low voice. Her back-brush accent becomes thicker when she's nervous. I love the way she talks, but many in the palace look down upon her because she came from an unfavored region. Over the years, she's learned to disguise it well.

I open the door and face her. "It's okay, Gwen. I'm not upset. But just because my father requests my presence doesn't mean I need to rush things. I'll see him when I'm ready." I look her straight in the eye, and with a firm nod, she smiles and curtseys.

"Well, then, dearie, let's finish your hair."

I sit on my puffy vanity stool in front of my massive three-mirror dressing table, and Gwen begins weaving two small braids on the side of my head. She then styles the rest of my hair into large, soft curls. I've always enjoyed my dressing table. It's an ancient relic passed down from my mother's family. According to family history, French Louis XVI designed it. One of my mother's uncles was a famous, yet entirely unknown, explorer, and he supposedly travelled to different regions outside of the Fae Realm. He would bring back exquisite items as proof of his travels.

My mother was the receiver of practically all of the items, though, over time, many have been traded with the other Elemental Fae royal houses in an effort to keep the peace. Some have been collected and put on display in the Museum of Specially Curated Artifacts, or so I'm told. Though, I've never been to the museum to see the collection. My mother gave me a few pieces before she died. Some of the smaller, more personal pieces, I hid, and no one, well, almost no one, knows about them. The Grandmaster came around, asking about them after her death. He seemed to yearn for them, so I assume he somehow knows about them. However, they are rightfully mine, and they are all I have left of my mother and her family. Their demise was a tragedy. And her death...