A carriage had brought her home on the day of the fire. It was such a silly thing, but. . .
Reaching up to check her brother’s work, Janus wrinkled her nose as she observed herself in the mirror. When had she grown to resemble her brother so strongly? Matching brown eyes and dark hair. Their waves even curled in the same place.
“You know,” Evander added, running a finger along his chin as he stared at their reflections. “Dates don’t grow in Altanbern. I daresay you won’t see one during your stay there.”
“Are you trying to cheer me up?”
“Is it working?”
“A little.” Grabbing her traveling bag from her desk and throwing it over her shoulder, Janus sighed and nodded. “Alright. I’m ready.”
Evander pushed the door open, and they stepped outside. Their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they approached the stairs. Gemellus loitered at the banister, clutching something as he turned to intercept them.
“Ah, Janus.” Gemellus shook his hand, unfolding a small black cloth embroidered with golden vines. He tilted his head and reached forward, gently tying it around Janus’ neck.
“What’s this?” She asked, looking down and thumbing the cloth’s edge.
“I wore this during my time in Sigilus’ courts. It’s more a secret code than a fashion statement.” Gemellus explained. “Say you’re dining with someone you really can’t stand. Throwing that handkerchief on the table is a polite way of informing them you would rather choke on a chicken bone than spend another moment in their company.”
“Won’t I offend someone?”
“Not at all. It’s considered polite.” Gemellus paused. “But if your brother is looking at me the way Iimaginehe is, I also must advise you to use it sparingly.”
“Good grief,” Evander muttered.
“You’re the best, Gem.” Janus declared.
“I’m well aware.” He offered her a polite, stiff bow. “Safe travels, dear.”
Shaking his head, Evander steered her away from their mentor. At the base of the stairwell, the king and queen awaited them to see Janus off.
Queen Tauret, ageless, looked not a day over thirty, though she must have been in her mid-forties by now. Her purple eyes had lost much of their luster in the past few years, but her white-blonde hair was always pulled tautly into a neat bun.
Father had fared worse. His once-tall, lean build had slumped, and he had put on weight. The golden-orange tiara on his head was slightly obscured by dark hair that had grown long and messy, but when he saw his children, his face lit up, nearly matching the splendor of his intricately embroidered tunic.
Tight yet fleeting, Father pulled Janus into a hug and released her. “Be careful. Do not go anywhere without an escort.”
“I won’t,” Janus promised.
Queen Tauret glared at Janus, her mouth set in a hard line. She had never been cruel. But the coldness between them had hardened like ice. Janus doubted they had shared more than a few words over the years.
Janus and Evander shared a mother—a woman Janus could scarcely remember. Even while Eros was alive, Tauret had not cared for her step-children. Now? The queen glared at Janus with a silent accusation she’d never voiced:you murdered my son.
Looking down, Janus offered the queen and king a bow, and they dipped their heads.
“Keep your ears and eyes open,” Father said quietly. “If you hear or see anything unusual, bring it back to me.”
If Father was worried about something specific, he did not voice it. Confused, Janus nodded and returned to Evander’s side.
Six guards and one attendant would travel with her, though Janus wished she could go alone. They weren’t bad people, at least. The older woman serving as her maid for the trip hardly spoke, always wearing a concentrated expression as she set about her work. Janus was unfamiliar with most guards, but one of the six was the pudgy, kindly-faced guard she recalled from the night of Eros’ funeral. He had made a habit of checking on her on occasion.
Kalid. Janus had made a point to ask his name.
Evander remained with her as they exited the palace, but paused on the promenade. “Father’s right.” He whispered. “You should watch your back.”
“We’re at peace.” Janus protested. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“You’ll be on your own. Easy prey for anyone seeking to hurt you.”
