Page 36 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)

Janus

Nine years ago. . .

Janus spun before the mirror, watching her dress swirl around her ankles. The delicate white silk gown was the finest garment she had ever donned. Father had outdone himself this time.

The older woman dressing Janus grabbed her shoulders and straightened her out to finish pinning her hair into a patterned orange scarf.

Standing stiffly, Janus murmured an apology. “Sorry, Raja.”

“Hm.” The stern-faced maid stepped back. “Done. Off you go.”

Nodding at her elderly maid, Janus skipped through her door into the hall, where her brother awaited her.

Evander always looked nice, but especially so tonight. A hint of orange decorated his deep blue finery, matching him to his sister. He offered her an arm, and Janus gladly took it.

“Ready?” Evander asked.

“No,” Janus answered, and her brother chuckled.

Janus’s favorite spot was the grand ballroom on the palace’s first floor. Spacious and echoey, your voice sounded dramatic and important when you yelled inside of it. Father disapproved, of course.

Tonight, the halls were packed with people, decorations, and tables.

Golden-orange tablecloths draped onto the floor, set with bright white flowers.

Matching lanterns strung on streamers, painting a happy, joyful glow.

It was Eros’ eighth birthday, and Father had thought it a worthy excuse to throw a ball.

Janus bumped into Evander several times as he led her into the room.

So many people surrounded them. Nobles in gaudy silks and embroidered dresses, their patterns and bright colors nauseating.

Others, in simple, understated garb, wore hawkish looks in their eyes, and Janus felt as though they peered into her soul, judging her being.

As Janus’s eyes swept the hall, she first found Father.

The tall man towered above those surrounding him, his tawny skin wrinkled with a permanent smile.

A few paces away, a man in a black suit with a floral-patterned vest twirled a strand of hair idly as a wiry woman with a sharp nose prattled on.

Gemellus, an old friend of Father’s. Soon to be her mentor at Valeria.

Next, Janus spotted Eros, a few feet from his ever-regal mother.

The kid had a glowing smile plastered to his face that could have melted the iciest heart, and for once, his brown curls were neatly brushed and tucked into a circlet.

An overly decorative doublet with a high-collared shoulder cape painted a melodramatic picture of what was, in truth, a silly little boy.

Evander pressed a hand to his mouth to hide a laugh. “Isn’t he kingly tonight?”

As if he had overheard Evander’s comment, Eros’ attention snapped onto his siblings, and he fled his mother’s watch, cape flapping behind him. His bright pink eyes inspected Janus in disbelief.

“Whoa. You almost look like a girl tonight.”

Janus’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “At least I don’t look ridiculously over-decorated.”

“You’re just jealous. I look stunning.” Eros spun, dizzying himself before his gaze steadied on Evander. “Do you think you could convince Mom to let me have some of that punch Gem is guzzling?”

Evander furrowed his brow and looked over at the Sigillite, where he leaned on the refreshments table, a newly filled glass of alcoholic punch in hand. He slurped it down almost desperately as the wiry woman beside him clapped her hands excitedly, beginning a new conversation.

“No.” Evander turned back to Eros. “I don’t think I could.”

“Aw. Looks good, whatever it is. Smells funny, too.” Eros paused, eyes darting around like a dog smelling food. “See you later.”

He turned to run off, and Janus grabbed his arm. “Do I get a dance?”

“With you? Ew, no.” Eros wrinkled his nose, escaped Janus’s grasp, and ran off.

Evander watched Janus’s face sink. “Don’t worry. I give it half an hour before he’s begging you to dance.” Evander paused, then pushed Janus forward. “Go. Mingle.”

“I don’t want to.”

“It’s good for you.”

“But-”

“It’s good for you,” Evander repeated with a smile before he stalked off, merging with the crowd.

Throat drying up, Janus spun around, spotting only blob-like shadows and hearing only the echo of unintelligible voices.

She could not flee to Father’s side; he’d pull her to him and bid her introduce herself.

Lady Tauret followed Eros around like a hovering shepherd and would repeat precisely what Evander had instructed before shooing Janus off.

Locking eyes on the one other person desperate to escape, Janus hurried through the crowd, flinching from anyone who might reach out and halt her.

Janus recognized the wiry woman by the dragon coiled around a clock emblazoned on her jacket. Though her name escaped Janus, she believed this was the Minister of Evocation.

“Valeria puts us to shame.” The woman said, words strung together in rapid tempo. “Didn’t you say you teach there?”

“Yes,” Gemellus answered.

“But you’re from Sigilus. The seat of a once great empire, and it defers to Dragos to train its finest.” The woman shifted closer to Gemellus as he shimmied away.

“Thuatia should open its own school, lest we lose fresh talent to another country. Our brightest should not be poached by Dragos, of all places.”

“Yes, but Valeria is open to all in the Thruinc alliance, so why bother?” Gemellus noticed Janus’s approach. “Oh, look at that. Do you mind, Heba? An instructor must always make time for his students.”

Before Heba could respond, Gemellus grabbed his drink in one hand and wrapped the other around Janus’s shoulder, steering her away.

“Are you using me to escape the crowd?” He asked.

“Yes. Are you using me to escape Lady Heba?”

“I am indeed.” Gemellus pushed Janus towards a quiet table and leaned on the back of a chair. “She has good ideas, but she really needs to ask someone who isn’t me.”

“She must think highly of you.”

“She must-” Gemellus paused mid-sentence. “Well, this is as good a time as any to teach you something new. The art of observation, for one.”

“The art of what?” Janus asked.

Gemellus took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the crowd. “What do you see?”

“Um, people?”

“Sure, but look over them. Linger on the crowds, on people of importance. What can you glean from a mere cursory glance?”

Janus bit her lip and let her gaze sweep over the packed ballroom. People stood around and talked. Some ate, others chased down waiters to grab food from trays. Some were on their fourth drink, while others sipped their first. What Janus was supposed to learn from this, she had no idea.

“I don’t get it,” Janus said, looking up at Gemellus. “You can’t even see them.”

“No, but I can hear them.” He sighed. “Take Lord Abbas over there. Watch him for a bit. His mannerisms, where his eye lingers.”

Janus drummed her fingers on her thighs as she found the man in question.

Tall, fair-skinned, black hair, and wide, pupil-less sea-gray eyes.

A cefra from the west. He stood opposite Lady Tauret, attention wholly fixed on her.

Eros lingered nearby, mouth repeatedly opening as he blabbered, heels bouncing on the floor as he attempted to raise himself to eye level with the two adults.

“What about him?” Janus asked.

“What does he think about your father?”

Frowning, Janus watched the man closer. Eros leaned in between Tauret and Abbas, and the man gently but firmly pushed him out of the way.

After a second attempt to insert himself into the conversation, but receiving the same result, Eros’s shoulders slumped, and he walked away.

Though instructed to watch Abbas, Janus followed Eros as he sought out a new group.

“I have no idea,” Janus admitted.

“He has little respect for him.” Gemellus pointed out another table. “How about him? What is he thinking?”

Following Gemellus’ finger, Janus found Evander leaning on their family’s table, hands tapping the edge of his seat as he shook his head at her, disapproving. He mouthed something at Janus. ‘Get away from Gemellus.’

“That he wants me to stop hiding behind you,” Janus answered.

“Take his advice.” Gemellus patted Janus on the back and pushed her away. “Oh, look at that. A vacancy by your father’s side. Would be a shame if I filled it before Lady Heba finds me again.” He scurried away, leaving Janus alone.

Janus saw Evander facepalm as she spun around and trotted after Gemellus.

At least by Father’s side, he would do most of the talking.

The king’s deep brown eyes lit up, and he beckoned her over, taking her by the shoulders and positioning her before him, presenting her to the two lords and ladies he spoke to.

“This is my daughter, Janus. I don’t believe you’ve met.”

“No, I don’t believe we have,” Gemellus said sarcastically as he filled the empty position in Father’s circle.

* * *

Eros had no inkling how to dance, but neither did Janus. They both shimmied around the dance floor, mimicking the lords and ladies they watched. Thuatian dances were done in groups, but some people had adopted Sigillite waltzing, which they attempted to replicate with little success.

Or perhaps to great success. Father and Queen Tauret had their hands clasped together, smiling as they watched. Or, maybe they were laughing at their children. Janus could not tell.

Janus spun Eros at the song’s climax, and he returned to her side with dizzied eyes. “Isn’t the man supposed to lead?”

“You couldn’t lead a beggar to gold.”

“Ouch.” Eros pouted. “It’s my birthday. You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.” Eros declared as they dropped hands and stepped apart.

“And me,” Evander added, sneaking up behind them. He lightly clapped. “Beautiful dancing, Janus. You were like a swan, flitting upon a lake.”

Now, it was Janus’s turn to frown and pout from a fresh insult.

“May I?” Evander extended a hand to Eros. “I’m something of a prodigy at Sigillus waltzing.”

Taking his older brother’s hand eagerly, Eros stuck his tongue out at Janus as he was led away. Janus folded her arms and returned the gesture as she backed away. Now alone, Janus felt the murmurs of the guests against her skin and the suffocating air of the crowd stifling her breathing.

As Evander spun Eros around, the kid’s pink eyes landed on his sister, and he pulled his hand from Evander’s and hurried back to Janus’s side, one hand fumbling in his pocket before removing something from the folds. Something much too large to be in there, judging from how it struggled to emerge.

Breathing heavily, Eros presented Janus with a stuffed dragon stitched with purple and silver yarn. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Janus asked.

“This is my dragon. She’s my guardian. Maybe she’ll make you feel better since you’ve seemed nervous all night.”

Though she knew it was silly, Janus took the soft little dragon, its yarn wings flapping as it was passed from his hands to hers. “Thanks.”

“Uh-huh!” Eros spun around and ran back to Evander.

Tucking the dragon against her side, Janus watched her brothers laugh and spin for a moment longer before she returned to her family’s table, where Father and Tauret spoke with several other guests.

Taking a deep breath, Janus rejoined them, hands tightening around the dragon as she sat beside her father.

Dragon clutched in her lap, Janus answered the few questions other guests lobbed at her. When a discussion she did not understand filled the air, she turned in her seat, watching Evander and Eros laugh as they finished dancing. Evander pulled Eros in for a hug.

The embrace lingered. Janus saw Evander’s hands trembling on their brother’s back.

A pair of pretty young women, probably about Evander’s age, interrupted the hug. Releasing Eros, Evander happily engaged them, and Eros grinned like an idiot.

Both of them were perfectly comfortable here. Janus had not inherited the social grace their parents had gifted to the boys.

Ringing from the clock tower sounded the eighth hour of the night; Father sat up and motioned for Raja to collect Janus and Eros and take them to bed. Rising from her seat gladly, Janus hurried to Raja’s side as the maid grabbed a reluctant Eros and led him from the ballroom.

The journey from ballroom to bedroom was filled with names Janus did not care about. Names of people Eros had met, of people who had been willing to entertain him, names of people he thought were pretty or ugly, mean or nice.

Eros was as puddy in Raja’s hands, hardly helping or moving as she spun him around to remove him from his finery. Once the more delicate pieces of their outfits and the pins in Janus’s hair were removed, Raja closed the door and instructed them to bed.

Pulling her nightgown on, Janus handed the dragon back to Eros. He wandered over to her bed and set the stuffed creature up on her nightstand.

“When did you get that?” Janus asked.

Eros struggled into his nightshirt, messing up his curls in one swift motion. “Mom bought it for me this morning. I’m still deciding on a name for her.”

“Hm.” Janus tilted her head, observing the cute little creature. “What about Des?”

“Des,” Eros repeated the word and nodded. “I like it. It’s a royal name.” He tilted the dragon to watch over Janus’ bed and rolled over. “Could you snuff the lights? I’m already in bed.”

“Tch.” Janus rose to blow out the candle. “If you’ve got her, why can’t you sleep in your own room?”

“Why have one protector when you could have two?”

Janus shook her head as darkness swallowed the room and felt her way back to her bed. “I guess. Seems to me like Des is keeping me safe, too.”