Page 56 of Death of the Glass Angel
Valkyrie chuckled softly but not genuinely. “Invite me to your table later.”
“I’d love to, Lady Mela.” He offered her a bow. “Until then.”
As Valkyrie merged with the crowd, Talon rubbed his neck, where the folds of his collar rubbed against his scar, itching.
The stone quarter. It did not seem related to anything else, but if Valkyrie thought it worth investigating, he supposed he could look into it. But how was he supposed to slip away from Janus?
Easily. It was only Des who watched him like a hawk.
Talon’s mind wandered. How could Janus be so different, yet the same? Notes of the same personality appeared between the two, but otherwise, they were entirely distinct. And while Janus elicited nothing in Talon. . .
Des certainly did.
Searching for the woman in question, Talon found her across the room, boldly approaching Chief Heras.
Seems Talon’s plan had paid off.
* * *
Whatever coldness Chief Heras had presented to Des, she offered nothing but warm hospitality to Janus. The neatly kept woman in the brilliant red dress politely smiled and stood from her seat as Janus approached.
“Lady Janus. I hope you’re feeling alright.” Heras said. “If you need anything at all, just ask.”
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m sorry I got your son involved.” Janus presented a curtsy before knitting her hands together. “At least he seems to be doing all right.”
“Oh, Felsin’s resilient. It isn’t his first time surviving something that very well should have killed him.” Heras waved a dismissive hand. “I’m glad he was there to protect you. I would never forgive myself if something happened to one of my guests.”
“Um, did anyone manage to find the one who fled?”
“Not yet,” Heras answered. “I have my men tracking him down. If I hear anything, I’ll ensure you do as well.”
“That’s um. . . thank you.” Janus stuttered slightly.
“Take care of yourself. If you need to escape the prying eyes, you can come hide up here.” Heras touched Janus’ shoulder gently and sat.
Seeing as she was dismissed, Janus turned away, face scrunched up in thought. Felsin had survived a deadly encounter already? Why did that sound familiar?
“Little lass.” A deep, gruff voice called in an Altanese accent.
The yellow-kilted Chief Kahn approached her, one hand toying with his mustache.
“How are you doing?” He asked. “No lasting injuries?”
“No. I’m okay.” Janus assured him.
“It’s unacceptable, you two being harmed by my men—impostors or not.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But it is, lass.” He leaned down. “Whatever you need from me to pay this debt will be given. We Altanese do not accept shame.”
Janus opened her mouth to refuse but reconsidered. “Do you have any maps of the mountains I could have? Maybe a book about abandoned tunnels or forts?”
Kahn chuckled. “I’ll deliver everything I have to your chambers.” A grim expression crossed his face. “You didn’t happen to get a good look at ‘em, did you?”
“No.” Janus shook her head. “They appeared and disappeared in what felt like an instant. I saw one’s face, but he was entirely unremarkable.”
“Ah.” Chief Kahn slowly nodded. “If you do get any inclination as to who was behind it, let me know. And I’ll be sure to do the same for you.” His eyes flicked over the crowd before he smiled and nodded at her.
