Our neighbors in Vupis will likely join in since it's just one river crossing. The only other question is who else will join in? Ellisar likes to see the human kingdoms who threaten us buried under a dog pile of invading armies who pick the place clean and grind it down to nothing. His goals will be to see the population scattered, the nobles dead or running, and the royal family wiped from the map.
All of these things are worries for another day. Since Oskar tried to force me into his private solar, that solar clearly needs some attention. I am determined to do it the justice it deserves. I’ve already had Holger take measurements and draw up plans while Oskar was out at his hunting lodge. Now I must visit the Glassmakers. Oskar’s solar requires special attention.
We arrive at the District of the Glaziers. The air here shimmers with heat rising from the furnaces. The ground is crunchy with crushed silica and discarded shards. The Guildhall itself is a towering structure with too many windows, allowing the artisans to work with natural light.
I step out of the carriage, shielding my eyes from the glare reflecting off a pile of cullet. “It smells of burnt sand and lung disease here. Perfect. They will be desperate for clean gold.”
Kenric shrugs, “And what exactly are we asking them to do? Humans cannot cast glass as clear as the Fey.”
“They provide the hands and the furnaces, husband. I provide the… additive.” I pat a heavy velvet pouch at my waist. “And the motivation.”
We enter the Guildhall. It is sweltering. Men with long metal blowpipes are turning molten blobs of orange fire. Master Vitrus, the Guildmaster, hurries over. He is a tall, spindly man who looks as fragile as his wares, wearing thick leather aprons and protective goggles.
Master Vitrus lifts his goggles, revealing eyes red from smoke. “Princess Víl?? We heard you were visiting the Guilds. I admit, we… feared we had been skipped.”
“No,” I say with a smile, “I save the most delicate, most critical tasks for last, Master Vitrus. I have a crisis.”
Vitrus asks, “A crisis? Has a mirror broken? Seven years bad luck?”
I shake my head, “Worse. The King is living in a cave. His Solar is dark, drafty, and depressing. It affects his mood. It affects his health. And when the King is moody, the kingdom suffers.”
Vitrus looks alarmed. “The Solar windows are… historic, My Lady. Leaded diamond panes from the First Dynasty.”
I frown at him,”They are dirty bottlenecks that strangle the light. I want them gone. I want to replace the entire south wall with sheet glass.”
Vitrus laughs nervously “Sheet glass? Of that size? It is impossible, Princess. The structural integrity… the clarity… gravity itself would warp it.”
“Not with the right sand,” I reply.
I untie the velvet pouch at my waist and pour a small mound of glittering, diamond-dust sand onto his workbench. It sparkles with an inner light that has nothing to do with the sun. "It is Fey Silica, crushed quartz from the Crystal Caverns of Imelenora, infused with binding magic. Mix this with your batch. One part Fey sand to ten parts river sand. It will melt hotter, but it will cool harder than iron and clearer than air. We call it 'Sun-Catcher' glass.”
Vitrus touches the sand. He feels the hum of power. His skepticism vanishes, replaced by artistic lust.
Vitrus eyes go wide with excitement, “It… it vibrates.”
“It amplifies light. Even on a cloudy day, the room will glow. It also traps heat. It creates a… tropical effect,” I explain.
I lean in close. “I want forty-eight panes. Floor to ceiling. Seamless.”
“That would require shutting down every furnace for other commissions. No bottles, no tumblers, no spectacles for a month,” Virtus says.
I shrug, “Then shut them down.”
Melina steps forward and drops a heavy chest of gold onto the workbench. The thud rattles the tools.
I wave a hand at the chest, “This is the 'Inconvenience Fee.' It covers the lost wages of every blower in the district. Plus a bonus for the risk of working with higher temperatures.”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Vitrus opens the chest and boggles, “This… this is enough to re-glaze the entire Central Temple.”
I shrug, “I don't care about the temple. I care about the King's health and sanity.”
Virtus bows, “Understood, my lady. We start immediately.”
I smile at him, “I do have one condition, Master Vitrus.”
I pull a sketch from my sleeve. "The etching. It must be done while the glass is still cooling, so it becomes part of the pane.”
Vitrus looks at the sketch. It shows the bottom corner of a pane.
Virtus frowns “An inscription? On a window?”
I nod, “Yes. 'Light provided by the Fey Embassy. A Gift from Princess Víl?.' On every single pane.”
Vitrus attempts to caution me, “Every pane? If there are forty-eight of them… it will look like a manifesto.”
I wave him off, “It is a makers' mark. I want to ensure that if the King looks out at his garden, he knows exactly who framed the view. Can you do it?”
Vitrus shrugs, “For this much gold, Princess? I will etch it on my own forehead if you wish.”
I chuckle, “The glass will suffice. Have the installers at the palace in two days. And Vitrus? Tell them to bring heavy hammers. The old windows are… stubborn.”
I turn to leave, sweeping my skirts through the glass dust.
Kenric laughs as we exit the glass foundry into cooler air, “You are turning his private room into a fishbowl.”
I smirk, “A warm, bright, publicly labeled fishbowl. He won't be able to hide in the shadows anymore.”
Kenric gives me a sideways look, "And the heat?”
My smirk grows into a toothy grin, “Between the Sun-Catcher glass and the new hearth? He’ll be sweating through his silk by noon. It will make him very… irritable. And hopefully, very tired. Too tired to chase me.”
The glass makers guild is delighted with their new commission and the panes have turned out exactly as I predicted.
Vitrus is amazed at how strong these panes are. “They’re heavier than normal glass, but as you can see all forty-eight of them are ready.”
With the panes ready, I descend on Oskar’s solar with a team of terrified Glaziers from the Guild. Kenric trails behind, looking resigned but amused.
I fling open the doors and stop in the center of the room. It reeks.
“Oh, this simply will not do. It smells like a wet dog in here, Oskar. And it is darker than a tomb. How do you expect to rule a kingdom when you cannot even see your own hand in front of your face?” I ask.
“I am resting! This is my private sanctuary! Get out!” Oskar yells.
“Nonsense, Your Majesty. This is not a sanctuary for you, for fungus perhaps, but nothing else, surely. I spoke to the Royal Physician. He says your humors are unbalanced due to a lack of sunlight. I must say, you do look… pasty. Like dough that hasn't risen,” I reply.
Oskar frowns at me,”I am pale because it is winter! Everyone is pale!”
“Not you. Not anymore. I have decided to bring summer to Centis. If you will not take care of yourself, we shall take care of you, Your Majesty,” I reply.
I clap my hands and gesture to the windows. The Glaziers flinch but step forward, carrying massive crates.
I order them to start working, “Gentlemen, the windows. All of them. Rip out those drafty, leaded monstrosities.”
Oskar leaps to his feet, glaring at me. I’m having a hard time not giggling. Instead, I maintain a carefully cultivated front of beaming geniality. Are you annoyed yet? Are you at least a tenth as annoyed with me as I am with you? Here, you chittering monkey, let me show you how Fey enact revenge. It’s almost never one swift blow. It’s ten thousand paper cuts, a hundred thousand pebbles in your shoe, a swarm of a million gnats.
He yells, “You cannot rip out my windows! It is freezing outside! I will die of exposure!”
I downplay his concerns, “Nonsense. It might be a bit brisk in here for a few moments, but we’ll have it sealed back up in no time. My team works with Fey speed. I understand that men of your vintage might need to be coddled a bit. I’m told that as men age, their blood thins. If it’s too chilly for your thin blood, you can always retreat to the palace until we are done, but, more importantly, look at what we are installing.”
I gesture to a sample pane held by the Guildmaster. It is not normal glass. It shimmers with a faint, pearlescent glow. It looks impossibly clear, like solidified water.
I am practically oozing satisfaction, “It’s amazing, and now your local glassmakers can make it. Sun-Catcher Glass. A Fey invention. It captures the weakest winter light and amplifies it. It also holds heat better than stone. We are replacing the entire south wall with it.”
Oskar looks slightly distressed, “The… entire wall?”
I am beaming with pride, “Yes, Your Majesty. Your health is far too important. We’ll place them floor to ceiling. You need sunlight, Your Majesty. Your own Royal Physican even agrees with me. And transparency. A King should have nothing to hide, yes?”
Oskar looks at the dark corners of the room where he usually conducts his… *cough* private interviews. Those corners are about to be illuminated by the brightness of a thousand suns.
Oskar objects to the sheer amount of glass, “That is… too much glass. It will be blinding. I like the shadows. They are… atmospheric.”
I shake my head, “They are depressing and unhealthy. Besides, I have already paid the Guild. Fifty thousand ducats for the glass alone. Custom cast in the fires of the Glassblowers' district. I paid them to stop making bottles for a month just to fill this order.”
I step closer, my voice dropping to that helpful, patronizing tone that drives him mad.
I say, brightly, “Think of the economy, Oskar. The Glassblowers are eating roast goose tonight because of you. Would you take the food out of their children's mouths by refusing?”
Oskar sputters “I… fifty thousand?”
I nod, quite serious. “It is for your health. And I commissioned the Stonemasons to redo the hearth. We are installing heat stones. They radiate warmth constantly. You will be able to sit in here in your shirtsleeves in until the snows melt. No more shivering in those heavy, smelly furs.”
I poke the bear cloak he is wearing. My midwinter gift to him.
I smile brightly, “I can tell how excited you are about it, Your Majesty. You are sweating already just thinking about it. It will be a tropical paradise. I call it 'The Eternal Summer Project.’ It will turn your private solar into the healthiest place for you to be all winter.”
I clasp my hands and beam at him.
Oskar grumbles, “I hate the heat.”
I keep my smile, “You will learn to love it, eventually. It opens the pores. Removes toxins. You will feel so much better. I am certain of it.”
I turn back to the workmen and wave my hand at the south wall. “Go! Begin! The King is eager to see the sun!”
(Reported in hushed tones between servants polishing goblets, carrying coal, and pretending not to hear royal screaming.)
“Ohhh, did I. Master-at-Arms nearly tripped over his own boots when he saw the glaziers hauling those giant crates in.”
“Forty?eight panes, they’re saying. Forty?eight! For one room! And every one of them etched with her name.”
“Imagine waking up every morning to your windows reminding you who bought them. Poor man.”
“Poor man? He deserved it.”
“You didn’t smell that room. I brought mulled wine there once. Nearly passed out.”
“Like a wet hound smothered under damp laundry.”
“And stale sweat. And secrets.”
“Mostly secrets.”
“They ripped out the old windows?”
“With hammers,”
“No!”
“Yes. Right in front of him. I heard the King shriek like someone set his beard on fire.”
“Well it was freezing. The temperature dropped so fast one of the scribes said his ink turned slushy.”
“And the Princess just told him to stop being dramatic and think of his ‘thin blood.’ I nearly swallowed my quill.”
“Have you SEEN the new glass?”
“I peeked. Only a peek! But Saints, it glows like bottled sunrise.”
“Cook says you could roast a pheasant in there without a fire once the sun hits.”
“I heard the King started sweating just from looking at the sample pane.”
“He’s gonna melt like a sugared pastry.”
“And the guild... Did they really stop all bottle?making for a month?”
“They shut down everything. My cousin works there. Said the Princess tossed a chest of gold on the table so heavy it shook the furnace.”
“Fifty thousand ducats, wasn’t it?”
“For the King’s windows. Not the palace. His windows.”
“Imagine what she’d spend on something she actually likes.”
“So what’s the final verdict?”
“Oh, the castle staff already have a name for it.”
“What name?”
“The Eternal Summer of His Majesty the Ever?Sweaty.”
“Perfect.”
“He won’t last ten minutes in that room without peeling off layers.”
“Serves him right. Maybe he’ll stop lurking in dark corners.”
“Not a dark corner in sight with forty?eight glass panes lighting him up like an ant under a magnifying lens.”
“Best rumor I heard?”
“What?”
“Someone swore they heard the Princess giggling the whole time behind her hand.”
“She never giggles.”
“Exactly.”
Sing close, sing soft, for this is what the winds foretold:
- A journey, swift and secret
- A kingdom trembling on the edge of invasion
- A queen’s private rooms possibly next in the path of “improvements”
- And a messenger riding with news sharp enough to cut mountains
- What’s your boldest prediction for the fallout?
- Who benefits most from this chaos?