Page 24 of Death of the Glass Angel
“That’s. . . true.” She admitted.
“It’s the attack, isn’t it?” He said softly. “I’d be anxious, too, knowing others might try to finish the job.”
She stepped back, sighing with frustration. “I’m just trying to protect Janus. I can’t let anything hurt her.”
“Janus. . .?” Talon repeated.
Realizing her slip-up, Janus placed her hands on her hips and attempted to change the subject, but Talon beat her to it.
“You’ve been acting differently all day. Noticeably so.” He paused. “You’re not Janus, are you? Not really.”
A guarded expression shadowed her face.
“It’s alright,” Talon said gently. “I. . . think I understand. Kalid mentioned something about the princess seeming to have two different sides.”
Hearing that, she relaxed. “No. I’m not Janus.” She admitted. “I. . . I’ve tried to hide it. That’s why Janus shuts herself away.”
Talon hesitated, eyeing her styled hair and painted eyes. “Would you prefer I call you something else? I-” He laughed breathily. “I think I can tell who’s who.”
She smirked slightly. “I can’t stand it, the veritable sacks Janus wears.” Face softening, she nodded. “I’ll give you my name on one condition.” She paused, tongue rolling around her mouth. “Two conditions.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re handy with a dagger and charming in conversation. Help me dig up information on everyone here.”
“You want me to go spying with you?”
“Yes. And second, speak nothing of me to Janus.” She paused. “To anyone.”
“I’ll keep quiet,” Talon promised.
She nodded reluctantly. “Fine. In that case, you can call me Des.”
“Des,” Talonrepeated. “I like it.”
8
Des/Talon
I remember the galas so fondly. The world, decorated so extravagantly, the people so beautiful. I would admire Penna across the room or watch you—so distant and unobtainable. Life was simple back then. How often I yearn to return to it.
-Private letter from Lady Entia to Gemellus Instigo
The tightest security Des had ever seen stood vigil over Weisskopf Palace. Beneath the glint of lanterns, steel shone in styles from all over the world. The leather and tweed of Altanbern, the segmented plate of Thuatia, Dragosi fluted helms with long robes folded overtop, and elegant Athelstani surcoats of royal blue. All in the accompaniment of noble families from across the Thruinc alliance.
Des held the hem of her black dress in one hand while the other looped around Talon’s arm. He cleaned up nicely, with his hair left stylishly messy. The stately black coat with golden trim she’d commissioned hugged his figure in all the right places—suitable eye candy to adorn her arm.
Carriages rolled up to the gates, depositing guests and their escorts. Two of Des’ guards pursued them into the palace, where a pair of Altanese servants in red ponchos greeted them and pointed them to the ballroom. Talon offered them charming smiles.
He certainly seemed at home here, for a simple merchant.
The cacophony of the crowd intensified when they passed under the great arch leading to the ballroom. High vaulted ceilings of dark gray stone, shaded granite floors set with pinewood tables. A wall of windows peered into the gardens; the other hung flags from everynation in the alliance. At the head of the room rested a table decorated with red, yellow, and green streamers, one color for each clan of Altanbern.
Father had instructed them to watch and report anything unusual. Janus might not have understood Gemellus’ lessons on reading a room, but Des had paid rapt attention.
Name cards denoted each guest’s seat, and Des sought out hers, finding the name ‘Janus Vallides’ scrawled neatly on a card, with an empty seat beside hers for her date. Leaning on the back of her seat, Des scanned the floor, spotting a table lined with various ales and wines and a bartender pouring drinks for the guests. A familiar man, hair disheveled yet beard well-maintained, leaned on the edge of the table, clad in a black coat with golden accents.
“We should split up,” Des suggested, eyes fixed on the man Talon had met with the other night.
