Page 101 of Death of the Glass Angel
“A what?” Talon asked, pointedly glaring.
Nodding, Janus changed subjects. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’ve been better.” Talon turned over his injured arm. “But I guess I can’t complain. I’m still alive, after all.” He smirked. “I bet your mind is still on those ruins.”
“They were fascinating.” Janus agreed. “I’ve started to sketch them out. I think it was the old palace before the clans separated.” She paused. “It should be gone. But it’s not. It doesn’t make sense.”
“No.” He agreed. “It doesn’t.”
Clutching the glass angel to her chest, Janus walked forward. “Listen, Talon. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you; I was just stressed and overwhelmed, and-”
“Oh.” Talon chuckled. “You’re worried about that? I’ve done worse to Valkyrie in my time.” He shrugged. “Water under the bridge.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure Janus. I’m fine.”
His usual lighthearted tone and easy smile accompanied the words. The same attitude he’d employed since meeting Janus. A merchant, her chipper guide.
Sure, he’d returned to his old temperament. But Talon had always been lying.
A second knock interrupted their privacy. Raja poked her head in. “You’ve a summons, girl. An urgent meeting is being held at the palace.”
* * *
Janus shifted in her seat, tugging at her dress to relieve the itching under her skin. By all accounts, she sat in the lap of luxury, seated in a cushioned chair with a buffet splayed across the lavish table.
Janus picked up her fork and laid it down again, remembering one of Gemellus’ earliest lessons: how to read a room. Raising her head, she scanned the table.
Brand sat to one side of her, and Felsin on the other, poking at his dinner. His eyes darted around, eventually landing on her. Reaching under the table, he clicked his fingers a few times and held out a piece of ham.
A tiny white cat scurried under the chair, chasing the ham when Felsin tossed it beneath Janus. The warm, fuzzy creature stuffed itself under her legs, dispelling some of her nerves.
Sors was not supposed to be here. Felsin discreetly lifted his hand and winked at Janus. The black kohl smudged around his eyes made his irises gleam like gold. Janus probably looked like a buck-toothed horse, gaping at him like a love-sick idiot.
Pressing her feet against the cat, Janus took a deep breath and looked around. Heras sat at the head of the table, her black curls falling loose over her crimson gown. Dinu and Avalon sat to either side of her,far less impressive in mien. Dishevelment clung to Dinu at all times; tonight, his coat was slightly crooked, and one side of his collar was flipped down. Avalon dressed acceptably by Athelstani standards—her frilly collar and flower-patterned sleeves a sight to behold.
Across from Janus sat Chief Kahn and Chief Esseg. The green-tweed-wrapped Chief Esseg seemed pleasant, his face kindly and plump. Khan had a more intimidating air, a yellow kilt wrapped tightly below his barrel chest, his expression stern.
Finally, Prince Paulus sat at the table’s other end, a bored countenance idly observing the soup before him. He brushed back his neat, dark hair and glanced in Janus’s direction before returning to the food.
Though Janus had never been good at reading a room, the ambiance in this chamber was plain as day. Tension hung over every soul, and distrust permeated the air.
Avalon broke the silence first. “You look well despite everything. Such strength is a rarity.”
Realizing Avalon was talking to her, Janus sat upright with a start. “Th-thanks.”
“Truly.” Chief Kahn agreed, sitting forward. “To think such an operation was hidden beneath our notice, beneath our city.” He looked pointedly at Heras, who ignored his gaze.
Someone had mentioned Kahn and Heras arguing over her newfound secrecy. Janus wondered what the Royal Chief had to hide.
“And,” Paulus looked up, “They wore no markings, yes? They must be intent on hiding their true allegiance. Though I must say, they were fools. Anmarite has been left untouched for a reason.”
“I agree.” Dinu sat back, folding his hands in his lap. “Anmarite has one known property: its near invulnerability. To pour research—unethical research—into prestigious armor has but one motive.”
Felsin nodded, stirring his soup. “And who else should we point the finger at but Altanbern, considering where their base was located?”
Shuffling back in her seat, Janus gazed at Felsin curiously. He had exploded at Talon for daring to accuse his mother. Had he changed his mind?
