Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
I try to put the absurd dream from my mind, yet as the days continue on, I find myself staring at the fake duke, imagining him with those horns and pointed ears and canines.
“What?” Eryx asks at dinner one night, while I’m staring at his forehead.
“Nothing,” I say, returning my attention to my food.
Eryx shifts in front of me, possibly sharing a look with his bodyguards.
Thankfully, he hasn’t caught me staring at his ass, as I try to imagine what his tail might have looked like…
It isn’t until I collide with someone in the hallway that I realize I might be ruminating on the dream too much. Thankfully, I catch my housekeeper before she lands on the floor.
“Mrs. Lagos, forgive me. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“It’s quite all right,” she says. She brushes off her skirts before straightening the shawl about her shoulders. I do a double take.
“Is that cashmere? From Michalis’s?”
Her cheeks deepen in a blush.
“Mrs. Lagos, do you have a rich secret admirer you’ve yet to tell me about?”
“No.” She won’t meet my eyes.
“That simply won’t do. I must know who gave it to you. I thought I was fun to gossip with?” My lips turn up into a pout.
“It’s not that, Your Grace. I’m afraid I will cause you distress if I tell you who gave it to me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone who would gift my friend such a thing is—” I finally put two and two together. “It was the duke ?”
Mrs. Lagos looks down at the floor as though ashamed. “He felt bad for all the stress he’s put on me. Letting so many of the staff go, managing a shorthanded estate. He only wanted to make amends.”
“Surely you wouldn’t fall for such bribery?”
“Of course not, Your Grace,” but as she continues on, I see her patting the new shawl.
I continue toward the main doors, for I’d planned to take a walk today. Damasus enters just before I reach the exit.
“Pardon me, Your Grace,” he says. His hand goes to his chest, where I notice a brooch pinned to the lapel of his jacket.
“Is that silver?” I ask him.
“No.” A pause. “Forgive me, Your Grace, that was a lie. Yes, it is silver.”
“The duke gave it to you?” It’s more an accusation than it is a question.
He nods. Slowly.
“That’s it,” I mutter.
Then I go find Eryx.
It takes the better part of fifteen minutes, but I finally spot him in the library, clearly looking for his next read.
“You’re giving the staff gifts?”
He spins around, his hand going for his revolver, but he thankfully does not draw it. He puts his back to me once more.
“Is that a problem?”
“It will be when they leave their employment because your gifts are worth more than their annual salaries.”
“They won’t leave. They all like you too much.”
“Yes, and that camaraderie was earned. You’re trying to bribe people into liking you.”
He turns to face me and crosses his arms, leaning against the stack of books behind him. “First you’re mad that I let so many of the staff go. Now that I’m showing them how much I appreciate their efforts, you’re also incensed? Do you worry that I will turn them against you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you upset?” His expression turns haughty. “Is it because I did not get you a gift?”
I grit my teeth. “Certainly not.”
His eyes flash amber, and he turns himself back around. “Then what is wrong, Duchess?”
“You. It’s always you that is wrong.”
And because I will not be outdone by him, I send Kyros into town with specific instructions on what gifts I wish to purchase for every member of my staff. I don’t care if it costs my entire monthly stipend. Eryx doesn’t get to win.
T HAT NIGHT , WHEN I approach my rooms for the evening, I find a small box on the floor beside the door. For some reason, my heart picks up its rhythm and my skin heats.
I survey my surroundings, confirming there are no witnesses, then bend down to retrieve it. I shut myself within my room and stare at the present.
What did he get me? Earrings? A necklace?
I told him I didn’t want a present from him. I was very clear on the topic.
But it wouldn’t hurt to just open the box. To see what it is. Has he paid attention to my jewelry preferences? Is the gift thoughtful, or was it something random he saw in town?
The hinge swings upward at the slightest touch. After unfolding the tissue paper, I find only a short note nestled against the velvet.
So you did want a gift from me.
I hurl the box across the room.
“No,” I say aloud, as though he’s here to argue with. I didn’t. I don’t. I was just looking .
When I’ve composed myself, I put the note back inside and place the box exactly where I found it. As though I’d never opened it.
By morning, it’s gone.
“ A SECOND NOBLEMAN HAS gone missing,” Karla tells me before the next book club meeting. “It was tricky snagging a copy of the morning’s paper. Apparently there was a recall on the printing. We think it’s the king’s doing.”
Tekla nods. “He can’t have the aristocracy panicking when he wants them all fixating on his upcoming nuptials.”
“Oh, it’s going to be the wedding of the century,” Karla says, nearly swooning at the thought.
“The missing nobleman,” I prompt.
“Oh, right. This time it was Lord Kazan.”
Yet another viscount who served in the army. Hmm. “If the king is forcing the papers to recall the printing, then we likely won’t hear about the next disappearance.”
“I suppose not,” Tekla says.
“I wouldn’t worry, though, Your Grace,” Karla says. “It’s only men who are going missing.”
“I’m not worried,” I assure them. I’m only concerned with what this means, and why Eryx walks about the house as though expecting an invasion. Does he suspect he’s next? Or is it the blackmailer he’s worried about? Could the kidnapper and blackmailer be the same person?
The only thing I know for certain is that whatever is going on, Eryx is somehow caught up in it.
T HE TIME FOR E RYX ’ S money drop with the blackmailer comes and goes, yet neither Eryx nor his goons leave the manor. I know because I trail the three of them like a loyal dog. Unfortunately, I’m not as careful about it as I think I am.
I round a corner and run straight into Eryx, who had clearly been waiting for me.
“What the devils are you doing, Duchess?”
I rub my nose where it pressed into Eryx’s solid chest upon impact. It’s not hard to don a mask of innocence. “I’m observing you, obviously.”
His eyes narrow. “To what end?”
“I don’t want you to make a fool of us at my sister’s wedding. I need to ensure you’re practicing what you’ve learned in our lessons.”
He rolls his eyes. “You can hardly expect me to act the same in private as I would at a public event.”
“What better way to practice than to make good habits at home?”
“I’m not changing every bloody thing about me just so you can feel more comfortable in public. Now. Back. The. Hell. Off.”
“Swearing in front of ladies is not—”
His nostrils flare, and something about his face changes. Before I can place it, Eryx takes a step closer to me, nearly treading on my slippers, and I leap away.
“Everything all right?” Argus magically appears from behind Eryx, and he places a hand on his shoulder firmly. “Eryx?”
Eryx blinks. “Fine, I’m fine. Just… get her away from me.”
Dyson materializes beside Argus. Both men squeeze their way into the space between the fake duke and me.
I step around them. “What’s the matter with you? You didn’t look right for a second.”
“I’m coming down with something. You don’t want to catch it, so you’d best back away. My head is pounding, and my temper is a little short.”
“Your temper is always short.”
“Duchess, be gone, damn you!”
He disappears before I can say anything further, and his bodyguards block my attempts to follow.
“Leave him be, Your Grace,” Dyson says.
I turn my wrath on to the other man. “You do not order me about.”
“Wasn’t an order. Merely some advice, but I suggest you take it this once. I promise you won’t like the consequences otherwise.”
Consequences! Just wait until they both receive the consequences of helping Eryx with the con. I spin around and leave.
I have no immediate destination in mind, but both men walk behind me.
“I shan’t follow His Grace again.” Today at least. “You don’t need to accompany me.”
Argus expels a breath that could be a grunt or a scoff. It’s hard to tell.
“Great, now I’ve got his bodyguards trailing me, is that it?”
I see the man’s lips turn up out of the corner of my eye. “You’ve got it all wrong, Your Grace.”
“Surely neither of you thinks me stupid enough to believe you’re valets?”
“We don’t think you’re stupid at all,” Dyson says. “In fact, you’re far too smart for your own good, yet you can be completely dense at times.”
“Excuse me?”
“We were in the army with Eryx. Same regiment. He saved both our lives.”
Argus stops in the hallway, bends down, and begins rolling up the cuff of his pant leg. I think to stop the man from baring his leg to me, but I’m far too eager for some actual answers, so I wait until he has the garment pulled up past his knee.
“Gunshot wound to the leg. The Pegains put up a good fight before the end. They had us on the run, and with me injured, there was no way I could keep up, but that wouldn’t stop a man like Eryx. He threw me over his shoulder as he ran, fought the bastards while bearing my weight. He’s the reason I’m alive today.”
I look Argus up and down, taking in his considerable bulking muscle. “Did you put on some muscle since the conquering of Pegai?”
The man laughs. “Eryx is stronger than he looks, and when he’s determined enough, even my weight is no struggle for him.”
How can that be? Argus must be twice his size, but what cause would he have to lie?
Dyson reaches for the hem of his shirt, lifting the right side up past his first few ribs, revealing a line of scar tissue.
“Got sliced up like a filleted fish. Eryx got to the bastard before he could finish me off, then proceeded to help me hobble to safety, knife still stuck in my flesh, and him wounded almost as bad as I was. Course that didn’t slow him down. The man only gets more fearsome when injured.”
I look between the two men. “So you’re with him now because you owe him life debts?”
“Yes, but that’s not a debt we could ever repay to a man like Eryx,” Argus says.
“Why are you here, then, if not for his protection?” Are they merely his friends come along to profit from this scheme of his to play the false duke?
Argus and Dyson share a look, before the former carefully says, “Did it ever occur to you that we’re not here for his protection, but yours, Your Grace?”
They leave me blinking stupidly in the hallway, all else completely forgotten.
I chew on Argus’s words for the rest of the night, seeing Eryx in a new light.
What sort of horrors did the man witness in the war? And, remembering the blackmail, I wonder what sort of horrors Eryx must have committed. I know that soldiers can suffer trauma, that some are prone to episodes and night terrors and what have you. Perhaps Eryx is suffering in ways I haven’t begun to pick up on. Maybe if I push him in just the wrong way, I could call forth a temper that’s blinded by trauma. Add his strange eyes into the mix, and where does that leave him?
If it’s such a problem, then is it wise that Eryx be seen in polite society at all ? And how dare he allow himself to ever be alone with me if he might suddenly have a violent episode of some sort!
Is this the real reason why he sent away so much of the staff and then the workers? The fewer people about, the fewer people he’ll violently attack?
I find this infuriating.
Not only is he taking everything from me, he’s also putting me in danger with his very presence.
M Y ANGER AND DETERMINATION HAVE always been stronger than my fear. To prevent my snapping at or verbally assaulting the man, I stay out of Eryx’s path, except when necessary. We undergo our lessons, always with Argus and Dyson present. I don’t push Eryx any more than I need to, with Argus’s warning still fresh in my mind. And Eryx seems, for once, not to be making a joke out of everything.
He can now sit and eat without giving me secondhand embarrassment. He manages to catch himself before swearing on a couple of occasions, though on others he seems to not even realize when foul words come out of his mouth.
We go over appropriate topics of conversation in the presence of both gentlemen and gentle ladies.
“How could you possibly know what is appropriately said when gentlemen are alone?”
“When are you going to learn that I know everything?”
When we’re not in the midst of lessons, I try to do more snooping, but I’m no closer to learning where he’s sleeping or why he’s being blackmailed.
Thankfully, I do not dream of the man again. It’s bad enough dealing with him during the daytime.
As the day of my sister’s wedding grows closer and closer, I spend time arranging the perfect outfits for Eryx and me. Though his new clothing arrives, Eryx does not touch it. He’s much too fond of his workman’s attire and black leather jacket.
Things are progressing too slowly. I have no idea what I’ll say to Kallias or Alessandra when I see them, especially concerning the fake duke. All I can do is bide my time. Keep my head down.
And then the day, or rather night, I’ve been waiting for arrives. Not the wedding. Something much, much better.
Ilias Tomaras returns to the manor.
Kyros escorts me to the library, and I ask him to wait outside the door should I need him. He accepts this duty without question.
Ilias Tomaras looks just as he did last time. Impeccably dressed despite the late hour. The man doesn’t seem as though he’s tired in the slightest.
“Mr. Tomaras, I’m so glad you’ve come. Thank you again for your discretion.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I’m happy to have some things to report, though not as much as I would like.”
“Please go on.”
“I started with the mother, Ophira Demos, Pholios’s daughter. She was born here at the estate and lived here until the age of eighteen.”
“So he did have a child?” Why has no one heard of her?
“Yes, just the one, but she was disowned by her father and banished.”
“Disowned? For what reason?”
“I have been quietly gleaning information from some of Pholios’s old friends at the time by blending in at their clubs. No one seems to have a clear account of what exactly happened. What I do know is that Ophira had an affair with the late Shadow King.”
My mind whirls. Is Eryx the late king’s bastard?
I see those amber eyes behind my closed eyes. Is that what it is? But to my knowledge, the Maheras line all possess the same shadow magic. No variations. And I never saw Kallias’s eyes flash amber during my stay at the palace, but then again, I never saw him angry.
Those thoughts all run through my mind in the span of a second. Right before Tomaras utters his next sentence.
“Though, it was reportedly sometime after the affair ended that she became pregnant.”
Oh. “So someone else is the father?”
“Definitely. And since the late duke let an affair with the king slide, I can only assume that her new lover was not of her station. Someone her father thought was beneath her. Whoever he was, he didn’t marry Ophira once she became pregnant, so we can also guess that he either couldn’t afford a wife or had no interest in one. I believe the pregnancy is the reason for the ostracism.”
That is… so terribly sad. What a horrible fate for any woman. “Where did she go?”
“This is what took the most time, but I eventually tracked her down to a remote city in Estetia, called Dimyros.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“Nor had I. I did some digging. It’s small as cities go, and its greatest boast is its flocks of sheep.”
“Sheep?”
“They raise them there; the people pride themselves on having the best fatlings of the year. Most of the world’s wool products come from Dimyros, and it would seem that Ophira took a job tending flocks.”
It’s remarkable that she managed to get so far on her own, but I can understand Ophira’s need to be away from her father. I’m glad she found an alternative for herself.
“I’m unsure whether this next bit is relevant, but there were unusual rumors circulating through Dimyros,” Tomaras continues.
“I’d like to hear them.”
“There were strange disappearances. Sheep, other livestock, and even some of the city folk would disappear. The bodies would be found later, sometimes nothing left of them but bones with strange, inexplicable bite marks.”
I feel the hair rise on the back of my neck. “Why did this information stick out to you?”
“Because according to records, these attacks didn’t happen until after Ophira arrived in the city. The timing isn’t precise. They started a few years after her arrival. So I’m sure it’s nothing at all. There were mutterings of Ophira being shamed and cursed by more than just her father. That misfortune followed her wherever she went.”
“And do you think there’s any truth to that?”
“I don’t believe in devils or gods.”
“What of the Shadow King?”
“I’m a man of science, facts, and reason. I’ve never seen the king myself, but I know that the inventions of Naxosians are remarkable. If someone wanted to appear as though they were cloaked in shadow, they could find a way, scientifically.”
He wouldn’t say such things if he’d seen the king in person, walking through solid walls, but now is not a time for arguments.
“What then?” I ask. “Did she give birth? Was there really a child?”
“Oh yes, Eryx is undoubtedly her son.”
At that, my face falls. He really is the duke? Truly? After I felt so sure about all my suspicions. “There’s no chance that the man occupying this house is an impostor?”
“There’s always a chance, Your Grace, but I find it unlikely in this situation. What you’ve shared with me matches everything that turned up in my research. The boy grew up in Dimyros and joined the Naxosian army as soon as he was old enough to pass for fifteen, which was closer to thirteen, I believe. He wanted to provide a better life for his mother, so he left. She didn’t protest, as far as I can tell. In fact, many of her neighbors suggested she wanted the boy to be a trained fighter.”
“Curious.”
“I thought so, too, unless she was looking for a way to perhaps impress her father and get herself and her child back in his good graces.”
“That would make sense, I suppose.”
Ilias nods. “Eryx apparently had a knack for killing. He rose in the ranks of the army very quickly and received all manner of awards.”
Yes, those I’d seen.
“And then his mother died around eighteen months ago.”
So soon? I hadn’t expected that. “What was the cause?”
“Some said suicide. Others said she simply wasted away. I heard reports that she stopped eating. Stopped getting out of bed. Stopped everything. The boy had no idea until she was already gone.”
“A woman doesn’t just stop taking care of herself. What could have been the cause?” I ask.
“It could have been madness. Or perhaps she heard false word that her son had perished in the army. Whatever the reason, it seems as though grief took her.”
It wasn’t the passing of her mother, I reason. Pholios’s wife died long before that. “How strange.”
“Indeed, there appear to be a great many strange things where the new duke is concerned. He grew up in a town with strange disappearances, his mother dies under unusual circumstances, even his unit in the army was said to have an unheard-of knack for staying alive. Many attribute it to Eryx’s prowess on the field.”
For some reason, the horns and canines from my dream flash into my mind. I shake them away.
“So that’s it, then?” I ask. “There’s nothing more I can do? He truly owns everything and is who he says he is?” I breathe in disappointment as hope leaves me with each exhale.
Mr. Tomaras holds himself tall. “There is one more avenue of searching I’d like to exhaust before I accept the second half of my payment, Your Grace, but I would prepare yourself. The evidence is not pointing toward the answers you’re looking for.”
My body feels twice as heavy as those words settle in my mind. Eryx Demos really exists. He is the duke.
But what is he?
I finally allow the thoughts I’ve denied to pervade my mind. Amber eyes. Mysterious deaths. A dream that feels less and less like a dream the more I think on it. The bodyguards here to keep me safe.
Or are they here to keep me from learning the truth?
“I shall see myself out once again, Your Grace. Until next time.” He bows deeply, and I precede him from the library.
Kyros escorts me back to my rooms. I’m lost in thoughts of all that was revealed to me, when he asks, “Did you learn what you were hoping to?”
“Unfortunately, it would seem that Pholios has a grandson. Eryx is who he says he is.”
“What of Vander’s guilty face when you met with him?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Mr. Tomaras has one more avenue of searching he’d like to try, but he told me to prepare myself.” I sigh. “The man’s dead, yet Pholios is still hurting me from the grave.”
“I’m so sorry, Chrysantha.”
“He was a pig. He cast out his pregnant daughter, leaving her with nothing. He was more despicable than I imagined.”
And now he’s left me one more mess to clean up. Eryx and I are fighting for an estate and a title that can only belong to one of us.
I still intend to win, no matter the cost.
The law can’t get rid of Eryx Demos for me?
Fine.
I’ll resort to plan B.
Eryx is dangerous, and there’s something unnatural about him. I may not know what it is, but there’s no denying that keeping him around the estate is a bad idea.
He needs to die.
I already have a scapegoat: his mysterious blackmailer. All the aristocracy still think me an idiot. It’s time to take action.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Chrysantha?” Kyros asks as he sees me to my door.
I meet his eyes, and they are heated.
Amid everything else that’s been happening, I nearly forgot about his unsaid proposition. I do miss companionship in my bed, but I know now isn’t the right time. Not when I cannot get thoughts of murder from my mind.
I reach out my hand and take Kyros’s gloved one. “Not tonight, but perhaps… later.”
I let the suggestion of more linger in the air, and it is enough for now.