Page 23 of Death of the Glass Angel
“That’s good at least.” He wrinkled his brow. “Did the girl let slip who might have it out for her?”
“No,” Talon shook his head. “You must have heard the rumors. Princess Janus is a shut-in.”
“So I’ve heard,” Dinu murmured. “Have you heard from Valkyrie?”
“She’s still traveling.”
“I’m sure she’ll find me rather than the other way around.” Dinu shuddered, not looking forward to the meeting. “You know, my date still doesn’t want to go with me. Spots open if you need it.”
Talon chuckled. “I’m going with the Thuatian princess. We became fast friends on the road, you see.”
“Ah. I see.” Dinu replied playfully. He leaned off the wall, groaning as he polished off his flask, mustache scrunching up when he noticed it was empty. “Then I’ll see you at the ball, stranger. Looking forward to meeting you.”
“And you.” Talon offered him a bow, and Dinu responded with a slightly off-balance tilt before he yanked open the manor’s back door and walked inside.
Adjusting his coat and tightening his gloves as a cold wind blew over the garden, Talon loitered, admiring the gorgeous scenery and the wash of white snow powdering the mountain range Weisskopf called home.
He made a mistake.The deep female said behind him.
He made a mistake.The others echoed, the higher-pitched male laughing.
Worried, Talon looked around, hoping the more friendly voice would answer. “What mistake?”
But they did not respond.
Anxious, Talon spun around and left the garden. As he rounded the bend of the manor, he heard someone land behind him, as though they’d jumped from a roof.
Grabbing his dagger, Talon whirled around to find. . .
Janus?
“What was that about?” Janus hissed, her black waves tousling under the breeze.
Talon froze. “Janus? What are you doing here?”
“Following you.” She advanced, forcing Talon backward. “What was that about, then?”
“I went out for a walk.”
Janus halted her advance when Talon’s back struck the alley wall. “I didn’t overhear much. Who were you talking to?”
“I had a chat with the man staying here.” Talon pointed at the manor. “He was out for a smoke. Seemed rude to just ignore him. Friendly guy.”
Grabbing the fold of his coat, Janus pulled him closer. “Quit playing dumb. I want a straight answer out of you for once.”
“Janus, I don’t know what’s come over you. You’ve been antagonistic all day.” Talon adopted a worried expression. “Did I do something to offend?”
The play for sympathy had no effect. “Talon,” Janus said, as though tasting the name. “I hear the Dragosi employ elite spies. They call themselves songbirds and give themselves nicknames. Might yours be one?”
How did she know that? The songbirds of Dragosi were all but unheard of, expertly concealed for decades. “Songbird?” Talon repeated, with feigned confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.” Janus shifted, bringing her face closer to his. “It makes all too much sense. You follow the naive princess, hoping to win her heart because you know she won’t think anything deeper of it. She’lljust be happy to finally have a friend. Then, you can extort her for all she knows and use her to get into all the functions at the Badulf-Esseg.”
“Are you saying you’ve been putting on an act all this time? Playing dumb?”
Janus paused, biting her lower lip.
Talon took advantage of her brief silence. “You’re jumping at shadows. If I wanted to dig secrets out of you, there are faster and easier ways—most of which involve alcohol.”
