Page 63 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)

Des

How do you know it was real? How many times has Gemellus asked me that?

Sometimes I wonder. Sometimes, I sit by Janus’s bedside as I did in her youth when I read her and Eros to sleep.

Touching her arm grounds me, reminds me what’s real.

Or so I believe. How much can we truly trust?

How much is a lie? Eventually, right or wrong, you have to decide.

-Excerpt from Prince Evander’s private journal

The wind tousled Des’s hair, blowing down from the snowy mountains with flecks of white. Catching a snowflake in her palm, Des sighed as she watched the quiet, empty streets.

How could it have ended this way?

Unfurling Felsin’s letter, Des reread it.

May your path lead from the tragedy you’ve been promised, towards the hope you deserve. Perhaps I’ll see you there.

A gentle knock rapped at her door, and Gemellus slipped in. his head tilted in her direction. “Waiting for your prince to come save you?”

“Oh, shut up,” Des murmured, swiveling on the bench to face him.

Folding his arms over his vest, Gemellus joined her by the window. “Do you want to give His Majesty the report, or shall I?”

“I’m playing the victim. You give the report.” Biting the inside of her lip, Des studied the worried lines creasing Gemellus’ face. “Is there going to be war?”

“Not immediately. Heras painted herself a fellow victim. In the ensuing confusion, she’ll have plenty of time to finish what she started.”

“Then we should-”

“We should do nothing.” He looked at her sharply. “I’m taking you home. Your Father and his ministers will handle the rest.”

Des fell silent, conceding his point.

Gemellus backed away. “Ah. There’s my cue to leave.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Des called as he fled out her door and shut it behind him.

The window creaked softly as someone pushed it open and stepped inside. Grabbing her dagger, she whirled around and pressed it against the intruder’s neck.

Talon smiled at her, raising his hands playfully. “I surrender.”

“Talon.” Des gasped, lowering the blade. A nasty welt traced across his forehead. “They honored Felsin’s plea, then?”

“The Altanese and their traditions.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and paced around her. “You know how they are.”

Sheathing her blade, Des traced a finger across his wound. “Are you alright?”

“Are you? I heard you got a matching scar.”

“I’m fine.” Des fell silent as Talon brushed her hair aside, examining the fading scar. His hand trailed down her face, and his thumb brushed her cheekbone.

Exhaling, he pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. Relief flooded Des, and she nestled into the crook of his neck.

Nobody had ever hugged Des. Evander seemed wary of her, and Gemellus was aloof and standoffish.

Before meeting Talon, those men had been her entire world. Her horizons had finally expanded, and now they would snap closed.

Warmth enveloped her. It spread through her skin into her soul. All her life, she’d yearned to be strong, to stand alone. She hadn’t realized how dearly she wished to be held by someone who saw her as more than a mistake.

“I have to leave tonight,” Talon murmured into her hair. “The right of exile spares the accused life—but he, too, is exiled.”

“Is that such a bad thing? It’s too dangerous for you here.”

“Hm.”

“We’re leaving on the morrow. You can ride with us, at least a ways.”

“Des, I. . .”

Des pulled out of his arms and stepped back, studying the remorse on his face. “You’re planning to disappear, aren’t you?”

“For a hundred years the alliance has stood.” Talon leaned against the wall. “It’s about to come crashing down. I. . . don’t know what the future holds.” He crossed his ankles. “I need to report to Lark.”

“But the road to Sigilus takes you through Piona.”

“Des,” Talon said sharply. “I have no past. No future. My life belongs to someone else. At best, I could sneak in to see you every few months. You deserve better than that.”

“I don’t want better than that.” Des met his even gaze and faltered.

A songbird’s every word was laced with lies. How much could she trust, even as he assured her?

Curse the way he could read her like an open book.

Talon’s gaze swept over her face, and he gently took her hand.

“Whatever lies I spun for others, what I felt for you was real. In another life, I would have chased you to the ends of the earth. I would have fought off all your suitors until your hand was mine alone.”

“Why not this life?” Des asked quietly.

“Because you’re a princess, and I’m nothing. An expendable tool to be used and discarded.”

“Then leave the songbirds.” She twisted her fingers around his. “Who cares what they think?”

Talon looked away. “You cannot leave the songbirds, Des. Not without repercussions. We guard our secrets closely.” He smiled weakly. “I care more about your safety than my happiness. And the best way to protect you is to silence everyone who tried to hurt you.”

“While I sit prettily at home?” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “I’m stubborn. If you try to slip away, I’ll follow you. If you try to disappear, I’ll find you.”

“Oh, will you? I could shake you easily.”

“Not with that head wound, you couldn’t.”

“It’ll heal in a few days. What’ll you do, then?”

“How hard could you be to find?” Des threw up her arms. “Do people often see irritatingly handsome cefra walking around? I’ll ask for purple eyes and a perfect jawline, and they’ll all point to you.”

“Are you flattering me?” Talon raised an eyebrow.

“No.”

He glared at her, and she glared back.

“Fine.” He exhaled. “The last thing I need is for you to get yourself stabbed in the backstreets of Clodia, looking for me. I’ll write. And give you a name you can write back to.”

Narrowing her eyes, Des studied every corner of his face, searching for a clue he was lying. “Do you promise?”

Talon grinned. “You almost sounded soft.” He gently lifted her hand. “You have my word, my lady.”

He kissed the curve of her fingers, eyeing her with sharp, playful eyes. Caressing her neck, he pulled their faces together, resting his forehead against hers. Closing her eyes, Des felt heat building in her throat as tears welled behind her eyes.

Talon hesitated, their lips but a whisper apart. His fingers trembled on her neck.

He pulled away, kissing her on the head instead. “If you need saving—if you think you’re in danger. Write. I’ll be there.” He swore.

Swallowing, Des opened her eyes as he released her and walked away. She bit her lip, refusing to turn around as he slipped out the window and vanished into the night.

Seeking comfort, she pulled the little stuffed dragon from her bag and cradled it in her arms.

Eros had loved stories. Tales of adventure and heroes. Piles of books had been hidden under his bed, read over and over.

Here Janus was, on her first adventure, only for the tale to end in tragedy.

The villain had won.

In that place of living memory, Felsin had told Janus to stop wallowing in grief and guilt and instead make it up to Eros. The kid would never let Janus live this down, to let it end like this.

Grabbing her cloak, Des swung it around her shoulders and threw open the door. Her eyes swept the room, landing on the blindfolded man sitting by the fire.

“Gemellus. Take me to the palace. “She ordered.

Rising, Gemellus glanced in her direction. To her surprise, he did not argue. Fetching his cloak, he escorted her to the door. “Have unfinished business that needs settling?”

“Yes.” Des hissed, pulling up her hood as they stepped out into the cold.

Snow gathered on their cloaks as their heels rapped on the cobbled road. An Altanese guard raised his spear, intercepting them as they reached the gates.

“Take me inside.” Des barked. “I need to speak with Heras.”

“My Lady, she’s-”

“Take me inside. “Des articulated.

The guard glanced at his fellow before guiding Des down the promenade and through the great stone doors. Low light hung over the keep as the red carpet muffled their steps.

Brand met them beneath the chandelier, a limp to his step as he smoothed down his tweed wrap and red waves. Amusement flared in his red eyes as he gazed at Des.

“Where is Heras?” Des demanded.

“Recovering from her wounds.” Brand drawled. “We were all injured. Show some grace.”

“Fine. You’ll do.” Des closed the gap between them. “I can see in your eyes that you think you’ve won. But I’ve figured out what you meant—I’ve learned who I am.”

Doubt flickered in Brand’s eyes. “Have you?”

“Every secret you clutch will come unraveled, and everything you feared will come to pass. You want war? I’ll give it to you.”

The amused flare returned. “You think we want war?” Brand chuckled. “You prove how little you understand.”

“I don’t care that I don’t understand.” Des snarled. “I care that you hurt me—that you hurt Talon and Felsin. And I won’t let you lay another finger on us.”

“You are fetching when you’re angry,” Brand said, smiling. “And finally, you’ve answered my question. You’re the dark secret your Father hid Janus away for.” He leaned forward. “I look forward to seeing you flounder when you realize how hopelessly out of your depth you are.”

“Tell your mother to count her days. You shouldn’t have left me alive.” Des hissed, whirling around and marching away.

Gemellus fell into step with her as they left the palace. “Feel better now?”

“I couldn’t’ let them think they’d go unopposed.” Des pulled her hood back up. She halted outside the gates. “Something’s coming. I don’t know what. War, or. . . or something worse.”

“Heras certainly made that clear.”

“I need you to teach me.”

“Have I not already?”

“Not evoking. Not history.” Des looked up at him, remembering the man she’d seen in the tomb, and the shadows he’d effortlessly wielded. “You said you were the shadows themselves. I have nothing but a knife and my wits. I need an edge.”

The breeze stirred Gemellus’ hair and blindfold as he stared at her with an uncertain frown. “Did not Talon tell you to step into the light?”

“Talon left me.” Des spat. “I’m nothing more than a shadow. Even the stars think so.”

Gemellus glanced away. “Before I came to Valeria, I was much like you. Stripped of name and purpose, consigned to be forgotten. I can teach you. But it is a road not easily returned from.”

Des chuckled. “You make it sound so dramatic.”

But Gemellus didn’t laugh. He grabbed her wrist and laid her palm flat, facing upwards. Shadows swirled between her fingers, dancing into the shapes of flying dragons.

“This.” He whispered. “Is not evoking. Do you understand?”

Nodding, Des stared into the void of his blindfold. “Teach me.”

Releasing her hand, Gemellus turned away, cape swirling behind him. “Let go your notions of the world. Leave behind the known. Throw away the stalwart mind, and embrace the darkest desires of your heart.”