Page 113 of Death of the Glass Angel
He thinks too highly of himself.
His eyes are pretty.One whispered.
Smirking, Talon slipped outside, dancing down the steps and exiting into the snowy garden. A shadow caught his eye as he rounded the building, passing into the alley cutting between this suite and its neighbor. Grabbing his dagger, Talon backed away, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the night.
His grip loosened, and he closed his eyes, exasperated.
“There you are.” Des stepped from the shadows, black hair spilling from her hood. “I thought you went to the palace, not across the street.”
“I’m going drinking.” Talon corrected. “Oh, you still think spies slip into vaults and steal paperwork, don’t you?”
Des flushed for half a second. “No. You’ll gather gossip from drunks. That makes sense.”
“You want to come, don’t you?”
“I even have Gem’s permission.” She grinned.
Talon laughed. He’d sensed an intimate connection between the court mage and the princess—seems he was right. They were more akin to family.
“Listen, um.” Des scuffed her boot awkwardly. Awkward. Not a word Talon had attributed to her before. “What Janus did—that was her, not me. Just so we’re clear.”
“What Janus did . . .?” Talon echoed.
“The slap.”
“Oh. She’s still worried about that?” Talon shrugged. “I’m used to worse.”
Des scoffed. “You say that like it’s an accomplishment.”
“My old man was a real piece of work,” Talon said, tucking his injured arm under his coat as he paced around her. “And songbird masters do not coddle their students.”
Des watched him circle her. “Did you and Valkyrie train under the same teacher?”
“No. Hers was a brilliant, but cold woman—Dove. Lark taught me.”
“What was he like?”
Talon paused in his tracks. How could he explain his teacher in mere words? “Complicated. He ensured I had everything a child could want. I suppose that’s all that matters.”
“And the burns. . .?”
“From my life before.”
Des wanted to press, but she respected him enough to let the matter lie. “So, where are we going?”
Laying his hand against the wall, Talon stood opposite her. “First things first. Why are you so insistent on following me around?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Talon drummed his fingers against the cold stone. There were a few answers he could think of. One, she was infected with an unbearable curiosity to uncover the truth of whatever plot was unfolding. Two, she fancied the songbird title and enjoyed a spot of theatrics. Or three, she wanted to spend more time with him.
It could have been any of them. Usually, Talon was better at reading people and arriving at accurate judgments.
She’s beautiful. A voice said.
She makes him nervous.
She should.
