Page 25 of Death of the Glass Angel
“Split up?” Talon asked. “What for?”
“We can cover more ground that way.”
“Cover more ground?” Talon repeated, smiling with amusement. “You make it sound like we’re on a mission.”
“We are,” Des stated, standing straight. “I’ll meet you here for dinner.”
“Fine, fine.” Talon shrugged. “Maybe I’ll find a pretty lady to talk to.” He winked and walked away, squeezing her shoulder as he passed.
Des watched him merge with the crowd. Lingering suspicions of his questionable character remained, but without proof to support them, she could not pursue them. Talon was, undoubtedly, not a merchant from Clodia. Was he a songbird or an assassin?
Adjusting her necklace, Des glanced down. She’d pushed her breasts up as far as this gown would allow and stuffed the empty space with padding. It didn’t look half bad.
Whatever she lacked would be made up for by the open-back. She caught a passing servant staring and smirked.
Vanity is a foul trait.Gemellus had told her once.
Says the blind man who stares in every mirror.Des had shot back.
I remember what I looked like in my youth. I imagine I catch a few eyes, still.
Smiling at the memory, Des lifted the hem of her gown and approached the man by the refreshments. The man noticed her gazewas fixed on him and stood straight, setting down his drink to adjust and align his doublet. Disheveled but sporting the sigil of Dragos on his shoulder cape—a torch wrapped in a wreath. Dinu, second heir of Dragos.
“You must be Princess Janus.” He said, voice thick with the heavy, staccato Dragosi accent. He looked her up and down. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Offering him a polite curtsy, Des wore her best smile. “Prince Dinu. It’s an honor.”
“An honor? I don’t think anyone’s said that before.” He picked up the glass he’d been drinking from and tilted it toward her. “Drink?”
“I prefer to wait until the night dulls before I drink,” Des said, leaning on the bar beside him.
“This is your first time at our little gathering of nations, eh? I thought your brother would be coming.”
“Evander always insists he’s much too busy. And why disrupt him when I’m far more charming?” She smiled coyly.
“Heh.” He seemed amused. “Some think being the younger kid’s a curse, but I say it’s a blessing. Nobody expects anything of you.” He smiled into his drink as he took another sip.
Nothing about this man struck Des as threatening. He had an easygoing air and a colloquial tone. His eyes flitted over the crowd, searching for someone.
“I admit,” Des said, shifting to make herself more comfortable. “I could use a guide. Could I trouble you to point out names and faces I should become acquainted with?”
He set down his drink, finger ready to point. “Sure. Let’s see. . . Ah, there’s Prince Paulus of Sigilus.”
* * *
Prince Paulus was untouchable. Talon circled him again, pretending to peruse the selection of food lined on a thin, long table. He glanced again at the prince, observing the isolating air surrounding the man like a protective shield.
The rich green of Paulus’s vest matched his eyes and jade-studded circlet, a pleasant contrast to his almond-brown skin. Two guards stuckto his side, winged helms and verdant tabards denoting them as royal paladins.
A cold disinterest colored Paulus’ eyes as he observed the ballroom, foot tapping as he reclined in his chair. Intrigue replaced the disinterest when his eyes fell upon Des and Dinu, who loitered by the bar. But the intrigue lasted only a moment before Paulus returned to staring into his drink, bored.
Interesting. Maybe he concealed his feelings well, or seeing the princess alive and well was no cause for surprise.
As Talon circled the table again, pretending to have finally decided upon a leg of the refreshment table to tackle, he noticed a woman approach the prince’s table before nestling into the seat beside him. A woman in a simple green dress, her fiery hair bound in an equally simple bun. As she greeted her date and picked up her glass, her burgundy eyes met Talon’s, and she smiled at him.
Valkyrie had mentioned planning to slip in by Paulus’ side. Talon had bet against her odds. Looks like he owed her.
Leaving Sigillite affairs in Valkyrie’s capable hands, Talon let his gaze wander onto Des. Was she fishing for information from the Dragosi prince? It wouldn’t work. Lark had often said Dinu made an exemplary collaborator—nobody expected anything of him and assumed him incapable of the same.
