Page 139 of Death of the Glass Angel
“Good thing the ball ends soon.” Dinu smiled at Des. “Maybe he’ll give up. You’ve proven remarkably difficult to kill.”
“Hasn’t she?” Felsin stepped closer to her. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with our favorite damsel.”
“But of course,” Paulus glanced between them before departing.
Des waited until Dinu and Avalon were out of earshot. She eyed Felsin with vitriol. “Do you not value your life?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” The cheer quickly washed from his face. “Here. Take a look.” He offered her a black card.
Gods, this thing looked ancient—frayed edges and worn colors. Gently handling the card, Des turned it over, studying the picture on its front: a winged horse with draconic features pulled an ornate cart.
“It’s not one of mine.” Felsin folded his arms. “It’s Alfaris’.”
“Did he turn that thing into a card?” Des looked up.
“Wouldn’t I like to know? I’ve never seen anything like it.” He shook his head. “No, if I had to guess, that creature came from the card.”
Des brushed a finger across the faded words written on the black card. ‘The Nyxian Chariot.’
“Where is he?” She asked. “Alfaris?”
“I don’t know.” Felsin looked up slowly. “I didn’t see him come out.”
Whirling around, Des stared at the ajar doors of the massive tomb. A new piece of the puzzle had fallen into the pile.
Felsin’s father had been murdered, not killed in an unfortunate accident. Alfaris had wanted her to know. But how was Des supposed to tell Felsin?
“Des,” Felsin said softly, “Can I ask you something?”
“I’d like to ask something, myself,” Brand’s voice thundered over his brother’s. He marched toward them, scarlet eyes ablaze. “What were you doing, wandering the halls of the tomb during a trial?”
Des chose her words carefully. “I stepped out for air. Alfaris-”
“Stepped out for air? You desecrated our ancestors’ rest for that?” He scoffed. “Tell me. What in the Monolith did you want to tamper with?”
“I didn’t-”
“Lies, again? You think I don’t know?” Brand’s eyes narrowed. “That you defiled our father’s tomb?”
Felsin looked up sharply. “What?”
Des bit back with an accusation of her own. “If he’s so beloved, why have you been hiding the truth of his murder?”
Felsin’s eyes brightened. “What?” He breathed, rage entering his tone.
“Ask Alfaris.” Des backed up. “He orchestrated this. All of this.” Turning away, she fled to the safety of Gemellus’ company, sparing a glance back at the brothers, who wore starkly different expressions.
Felsin had been shaken to his core, but not a hint of surprise supplanted Brand’s fury—and triumph.
He’d long known the truth of his father’s death.
35
Janus
I hate that little clock. Did I tell you the story of our first courtship? Gemellus clicked it open and closed the entirety of our walk before fleeing, leaving me stranded. Some gentleman. And do you know why? He remembered your mother invited him for dinner. Ridiculous.
-Letter from Sir Penna to Professor Aevus
