Princess of Glass
picked up a walking stick, the same one she had borrowed earlier, and whacked her erstwhile suitor with it. He crumbled to dust, but another prince took his place, and another and another.
    "No," she shouted. "No, no, no! You're dead, and I will never dance again."
    The King Under Stone himself rose to face her. "Poppy, my flower," he said. "You will dance again, and again, and again. You will never be free of us. We are your true family."
    He stretched out his arms to embrace her, and suddenly there was a crowd of strange people around him all reaching for Poppy as well. Their skin was too white and their smiles were cruel; some were old and some very young, and some grew steadily less human and more monstrous. She tried to
    40
    run, but her feet were stuck to the stone floor. She raised her skirts and looked down at them. Her shoes were melting, gluing her to the floor. "Noooo!"
    Sweating, Poppy sat bolt upright in bed and looked around. The room was dark, and empty, and she didn't want to lie down again. She put on her dressing gown and slippers and went down to the kitchen to see if she could make some sweet tea.
    "Oh, Your Highness!" Mrs. Hanks, the housekeeper, struggled to her feet. She was sitting at the big table in the middle of the kitchen with another plump woman in an apron, who also stood and curtsied.
    "Hello," Poppy said. Seeing a strong resemblance between the two women, she asked, "Sisters?"
    "Yes," they said at the same time.
    Poppy felt a wash of homesickness. She had never spent so many nights away from her twin. She wondered how Daisy was faring and if sometimes they were thinking of each other at the exact same moment.
    Then she realized that Mrs. Hanks and her sister were staring at her, and made an effort to drag her mind back to the here and now. They were standing on each side of the table, their hands clutching at their starched aprons.
    "Anything I can get for you, Your Highness?" Mrs. Hanks said at last. She and her sister shared a look. "With the Laurence's ball going until the wee hours, we didn't think anyone would notice if Louise snuck away to have a little chat."
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    "Oh, of course," Poppy said. "I just came in for some tea. Please, keep visiting. I shan't tell a soul."
    They smiled at her and Mrs. Hanks's sister sat back down. Mrs. Hanks, however, hurried to the stove and fixed Poppy a cup of peppermint tea, despite Poppy's assurances that she could do it herself.
    "So." Feeling awkward, Poppy looked at Mrs. Hanks's sister, Mrs. Mills. "Are you also..." She had to think of what they called it here in Breton. "In service?"
    "Yes, I'm the head housekeeper at Tuckington Palace," Mrs. Mills said with real pride.
    Poppy could see why and she gave a low whistle of appreciation. "That must be ... hectic."
    "It is, that's why we have to sneak a visit whenever we can," said Mrs. Hanks. She bustled over to the table and gave Poppy her tea, a bowl of sugar, and a plate of biscuits.
    Never one to turn away free food, Poppy ate three biscuits immediately. Then she stirred sugar into the fragrant peppermint tea while listening to the two older women.
    "She's a real trial, Jane," Mrs. Hanks's sister was saying. "Can't do a lick of work without breaking, spilling, or burning something. That's why I couldn't keep her with me, not at the palace! And now she's about to be turned out of another place--her third!"
    "Poor child," Mrs. Hanks clucked. "I know she wasn't born to it, but hasn't she had enough experience by now?"
    Mrs. Mills heaved a huge sigh. "That's what makes it so hard. She can't seem to do anything right, but if you correct
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    her, she just cries. It's easier to clean up the mess yourself, but there's not many housekeepers as will put up with it."
    Poppy couldn't stand it anymore. "Pardon me for eavesdropping, but who are you talking about?"
    Mrs. Hanks and Mrs. Mills exchanged looks.
    "Please? I won't tell another soul," Poppy wheedled. "Except Daisy and maybe Rose and Galen and Lily and
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