Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
T he palace seems to look drearier than usual. The black stones look gray, and the gargoyles seem slumped. Even the guards appear bored.
Some messenger greets us at the front doors, asking our business.
I say, “I am Chrysantha Stathos Demos, Dowager Duchess of Pholios, and sister to the queen. Please tell her and the Shadow King that I have arrived and wish to speak at their earliest convenience.”
The page’s eyes widen, but he asks me to wait in an adjoining receiving room while he goes to relay the message. Kyros stands behind me as I seat myself on a plush sofa. We are there no longer than ten minutes before the page returns, which is a relief.
“The queen bids me to take you to her private receiving room. She will meet you there as soon as she can. This way, please.”
I know Alessandra left an open invitation in her last letter, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t change her mind. Or be in a bad mood today. Or any number of other reasons.
I’m nervous and jittery. I’m about to turn over the man I’d come to l—
The man I’d grown fond of. The one I was prepared to give up what I wanted most for. And it hurts, even if this is the right choice.
We’re led through the palace corridors, past beautiful wooden furniture with roses and thorns etched into the sides. Midnight-black carpets line the floors and the upholstery is mostly done in crimson.
This is my sister’s home. Once, I envied her. I envied all of this. But now it’s obvious that I never would have been happy in this dark castle. I much prefer the pinks and golds of my estate. A home in the country, away from prying eyes.
Any remaining anger I might have felt toward my sister evaporates at the realization. I was jealous because she snagged herself a king while I only managed a duke. But she has duties and responsibilities heaped upon her every day. How could I have let myself think that I ever wanted that?
Because I didn’t know any better. I had no chance to really figure out what I wanted for myself. I was too focused on securing my own freedom. And once I had it, I knew what I wanted. To never have to put on an act again. To not have people expecting things from me. To just be me.
I will have that again.
So long as Alessandra is willing to listen to me.
We’re finally led into a massive receiving room. It’s lovely. A vase of fresh flowers rests atop a grand piano. One wall is covered in stained glass depicting a forest teeming with life. The whole scene glows faintly, as though lit candles from behind were brightening the glass. I seat myself upon one of the sofas, and the page nods respectfully before shutting us within the room.
Kyros and I wait in silence for all of five minutes before I rise to explore the room more thoroughly, tracing my fingers over the beautiful stained glass. When I grow bored, I dare to open the adjoining rooms. I wonder if Alessandra suspected I would do just this. If she wanted me to see all her fine possessions. I don’t care, I’m going to look anyway.
Kyros draws in a breath when I let myself into my sister’s bedroom, but what I find is surprising. “The king and queen share a bedroom!” I call back to Kyros.
“Chrysantha, I don’t think you should—”
“He really loves her. Look at all these outrageously expensive perfumes. Kyros, come smell this one.”
“No, thank you,” he says, and I think I can hear his eyes rolling.
Her wardrobe is more full than even mine. She’s been sewing, for none of these designs can be found at the modiste’s. The vanity is covered in face paints and lip stains. I read the labels of several, noting scents and colors I like. When that ceases to entertain me, I return to the receiving room, much to Kyros’s relief, and fidget some more on one of the beautiful sofas.
“It’s been half an hour,” Kyros says after a moment.
“We did spring this on her. She’s a queen. Probably very busy.”
My legs bounce. My fingers tap on the upholstery, and I cannot believe I’m here. What if Eryx is onto me? What if he had Argus and Dyson follow me? Every minute that goes by is a chance of me being found out.
“He doesn’t know,” Kyros whispers, as though reading my thoughts. “It’ll be okay.”
“He could notice at any moment that his correspondences are missing. I still have no idea how Mr. Tomaras managed to snag them.”
“It’s his job to be good at that sort of thing. It will be all right, Chrysantha. Just breathe.”
“I’m breathing!”
The door opens.
And my sister, Queen Alessandra Stathos Maheras, steps into the room.
She wears black pants under an open skirt in deep red, as though she thought to match her very surroundings. Some sort of corset-looking top attaches to the open skirt, black with red ribbons. Her hair is the same shade as mine in deepest ebony, though mine has a natural curl to it while hers is more wavy. She wears hers down, while mine is up.
“Chrysantha,” my sister says in greeting.
“Alessandra.”
A servant comes in behind her, setting tea onto the table as my sister takes a seat across from me.
“I was surprised to hear you were at the palace so soon after I sent my letter, but I’m glad. It’s been… nice to understand each other better.”
“Yes, it has. What have you been up to since the wedding?”
“A honeymoon along the coast. Then back to work at the castle.”
“Was it nice? The coast.”
Her smile is contagious. “The water was warm, the company was perfect, and the food was delicious. What of you? Have you read anything new that you’ve enjoyed?”
I tell her all about my latest romance novel, my book club, and my purchases to the library. We get so caught up in conversation that a good fifteen minutes must pass by. Alessandra has already filled our teacups twice.
When Kyros coughs twice from behind me, I realize that I’ve totally lost track of why I’m here. I hadn’t realized that Alessandra of all people could do that to me.
“This is fun,” I say.
“It is,” she agrees.
“I would like to schedule something like this again, but I’m afraid I’m actually here today because I need your help.”
She straightens in her seat, as though she needs to be wary. Of me. As though I’m using her. Oh, I probably went about this all wrong. But I didn’t know how else to do this.
“Go ahead,” she says, deadpan. “Ask.”
“Last time I saw you, I told you the story of who I’ve been these last seven years and why. I got what I wanted. Freedom. The right to control my own life as a dowager. You’ve made it even better, you know. With your new edicts. I didn’t have to stay in a period of mourning for a man I didn’t care for in the least bit.”
She shrugs. “What is the point of power if I do not use it to make things right in the world? We still have such a long way to go, but I intend to do what I can.”
“And the king is so supportive?”
She smiles. “He is.”
“I’m glad.” And I mean it, though I am a little envious. I started to think that I could have something like that, too.
“I’ve come to tell you a second story. About what happened once a man claiming to be the new Duke of Pholios entered the picture. Would it be all right if the king joined us for this part? He will want to know it, I’m sure.”
Alessandra taps her fingers on her thigh while she scrutinizes me. “All right. I will get him. Wait here.”
She leaves.
Only ten minutes pass before she returns with none other than Kallias Maheras, the Shadow King, on her arm. Bounding in behind the king is an enormous dog with sleek brown hair. Someone must spend hours brushing him every day, for the sheer bulk of hair on him. He sniffs at my feet, before the king says, “Demodocus, come.” The hound leaves me and sits at the king’s side.
“Will you wait outside, Kyros?” I ask.
“Of course.”
He leaves us, and my sister and the king sit. I’m not sure what Alessandra told him, but he holds out a gloved hand. I take it, and he bows over it. “Good to see you again, sister.”
I’m surprised by the words, but it must be that Alessandra is starting to hold me in some regard if he’s said them.
“Alessandra says you’ve paid her a surprise visit and that you need help.”
I pick up the briefcase from where it rests beside me and set it on the table next to the tea set.
Then I tell them both about Eryx Demos. Who he is, the fact that he was ostracized. I don’t mention his powers, not yet. Just the fact that he’s taken what’s not his, and that I bear the proof of that.
Kallias looks at the briefcase before glancing back to me. “Why not take this matter to the constabulary? If you’ve truly all the proof you need, then why come to me?”
I take a deep breath. This is it. There is no turning back from this point. If I reveal the secret Eryx trusted me to keep, his life is forfeit.
But that anger and betrayal is too strong for me to stop now. So I push ahead.
“Because the constabulary cannot remove him by force from the estate. You see, he is the spawn of a devil.” And the rest finally comes out. Eryx’s powers and true heritage. His strength. His bodyguards. The weaknesses I know of. The more I talk, the more Kallias’s face grows troubled.
“You are earnest?” he asks, looking between me and his equally surprised wife.
“I swear I do not lie. My manservant out in the hallway can confirm it. He’s seen the beast, too.”
After a moment’s pause, Kallias asks, “Has he hurt you?”
My neck flares with sensation at the memory of his teeth, but I answer truthfully, “Physically, no.”
“Is he violent toward anyone else?”
I think about disclosing the fact that Eryx was the one who murdered the general and several others, but for some reason, I decide to keep that to myself.
“He’s dangerous, to be sure. He has limited control over himself at times, but I have yet to see him lose control and attack anyone.” The time he saved me doesn’t count. “I… just thought you would want to know. You claim the shadows are a divine right to rule, do you not? If others have powers, doesn’t that hurt your rule?”
Kallias cocks his head to one side. “So you came because you are worried his existence makes my kingship vulnerable? Has he threatened me?”
I think about the list of names in the cellar.
But Eryx said he wasn’t going to pursue the last name. The king. If he was telling the truth. It’s not like he hasn’t lied to me hundreds of times before.
“I am doing this because he’s taken what’s mine. If dispatching him benefits you, too, then I am happy for it.”
Kallias looks to my sister, and I cannot read the silent conversation they have.
“Then I will take care of him,” Kallias says simply as he rises from his seat.
Alessandra reaches out with a death grip on his hand. He looks down at her.
“I will be all right. So long as you stay here, he cannot hurt me. Do you not wish for me to protect your sister?”
The question is terrifying, because I realize that if she told him not to protect me, he would listen. Her wants are far more important to him than my life. That is abundantly clear by the way he is looking at her.
She only pauses for the briefest moment, looking between me and her husband, before nodding. “We will be here.”
Just like that, Kallias leaves us, though Demodocus remains at my sister’s side. She reaches down to scratch him behind the ears.
I’m left with guilt flooding my body. I want to fix things with my sister, but now I’ve thrown her husband into danger’s way.
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be. He means it. As long as I stay here, he is invulnerable to death.”
But Eryx isn’t. No, I just signed his death warrant.
My legs begin to bounce again, and I fiddle with my skirts. Alessandra hesitates only a moment before rising from her sofa and joining me on mine. She doesn’t touch me, but her presence is a comfort I didn’t know I needed.
“Tell me about him. This Eryx,” she says. “Has he treated you poorly?”
“We argue. A lot. He can be spiteful. He took away my stipend just because I called him an orphan. Oh you should have seen the state the dukedom was in before I had leave to pretty it up.”
It relaxes me to talk, to tell her about all the changes I made. I even feel better talking about Eryx. Reminding myself of the awful things he’s done and why it’s okay to be rid of him.
He professed to like me, to talk of a future together—when he deceived me like no other has.
I bunch my fingers in my skirts, only to feel a rustle of paper. I reach into my pockets before remembering the note that Eryx had slipped me. I turn to Alessandra.
“It’s from him. He gave it to me before I left.”
“Did you read it?”
“There wasn’t time.”
“Go ahead, then. Especially if you think it might calm your nerves.”
I debate whether to read it, but in the end, I decide it will only add fuel to my hatred and make me feel better about my decision to send the Shadow King after Eryx.
My fiery Chrysantha,
I have a confession to make. Two, in fact. The first is that I lied about changing the will. The truth is, you should have inherited everything. The estate you love and have made so beautiful, the servants you’ve hired and built relationships with, the money that will secure your future forever. I truly am the grandson of Hadrian Demos, but my mother and I were disinherited because of my siring.
Vander failed to mention until after events were set into motion that the duke left behind a wife. In the beginning, I didn’t care whether or not you existed. You were a titled and pampered lady and would continue to be so even if I was made duke. I’ve never had a real home, full of safety and peace. And when I arrived at the estate, I fell in love with its beauty—beauty I learned later was a result of your handiwork, though I would never have dreamed of admitting that in the beginning.
But then I learned more about you. You told me of your family and your horrible marriage to my grandfather. You told me about how trapped and helpless you feel in a world run by men. You told me how you managed to find some control over yourself by becoming the dowager duchess.
And that leads me to my second confession. One I should have been brave enough to tell you in person the moment we were in that boat on the lake. I love you, Chrysantha Stathos Demos. I love your fiery temperament and your wicked mouth. I love your intelligent mind and your love of books. I love that crass sense of humor and your passionate friendship. There is not one part of you that I don’t love, so how can I possibly stand in the way of what you want? What you need and deserve?
I’m leaving the dukedom to you. I’ve already written to Vander to have him make everything legal. You will be the proper Duchess of Pholios, and no one will have the power to take that away from you. Though perhaps you might ask your brother-in-law to change the name? I know what Pholios has come to mean to you.
It is my dearest wish that you will allow me to stay at the estate, in whatever capacity you choose. I wish not to be parted from you, but more important, I wish you to be happy, so I will abide by whatever your wishes are. Whether they be to have this monster far, far from you or as close to you as possible to protect you and love you for the rest of my life.
I’m so sorry for Kyros. I’m sorry I had to put this in a letter because I ruined your friendship with him. Be well and safe as you journey. I am forever yours and eagerly await your return.
With love,
Eryx
I drop the letter to the floor, my eyes unable to see anything through my tears by the end. A burst of something spreads through me, replacing my horror and guilt.
Love, it must be.
I wrap my arms around myself, try to get a hold of the tears. It isn’t until I take a deep breath that I realize Alessandra has picked up the discarded letter.
She scans it quickly before her eyes find mine.
“I don’t understand; why would he— Oh. Do you love him?” she asks.
The tears return, but I manage a nod.
“Then what are you still doing here? Go to him before my husband kills him. I will travel with you as far as I can, but I will not put Kallias in danger by rendering his abilities useless.”
I fairly leap from the settee and launch myself through the door. Kyros, still manning the hallway, falls into step with me. I’m beyond words, so Alessandra tells him, “Bring the duchess’s carriage around. Quickly now!”
With his longer gait, Kyros overtakes us, disappearing out of sight.
Meanwhile, a horrible cry rings over and over again in my mind.
What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?
Why didn’t I just read the damn letter on the way here? I was so clouded by my anger. So overcome with my need to be free.
But Eryx offers me what I want. Freedom and himself.
And how I want it. More than I’ve wanted anything else in my entire life. If Kallias kills him—
I cannot bear the thought.
The castle seems five times its actual size as Alessandra and I race through its halls and chambers. My lungs and legs ache after a short while, but I push on anyway. The only comfort I have right now is that my sister is at my side.
Who would have thought that so much could change in a day?
Servants try to stop the queen, asking what is the matter and if they can be of service. Alessandra ignores them all. She does not falter even once, though I hear her breathing just as rapidly as I am.
When we burst through the castle doors, Kyros is already there with the carriage, holding open the doors. My sister and I throw ourselves inside. Before Kyros closes the doors, I say, “Make all haste for the dukedom, Kyros. Lives are at stake.”
He relays the message to the driver as he seats himself next to the man. And we’re off.
I cannot think clearly. I can barely breathe for how tense I am.
“He only has a fifteen-minute head start on us,” Alessandra says.
“That’s all he could need to kill him.”
She doesn’t argue.
“Why are you helping me?” I ask.
“I would say it is because you are my sister, but I don’t think that has mattered to either of us for most of our lives.”
A silence falls at her words, for I cannot refute them.
“I was once in your position,” she says quietly. “There was a time when I left the palace, only to realize Kallias was in danger. I feared I would be too late.”
“How did you save him?”
“By killing the man who threatened him. He thought me too weak to murder. He didn’t know that I would commit any manner of evils to save the man I love.” Her eyes move to me. “Does that make you think differently of me? When you learned I killed my first lover, did you think differently of me?”
I get the distinct sense that she is perfectly proud of who she is, but she is unsure where my thoughts lie.
I look her in the eye as I admit, “I killed the late duke.”
Her eyes widen.
“He touched me. Hurt me. I snapped. I smothered him with his own pillow. I also tried to kill Eryx by poisoning his food. He has no idea. I wonder what he’ll think of that when I tell him— if I get to tell him.”
She smiles. “I thought to poison Kallias once. I didn’t go through with it, though. How fortunate that both our men survived us.”
And though there is still danger to dispel, I find myself smiling in return. “We Stathos sisters are a force to be reckoned with.”
“That we are. We are as arrogant as the gods, deciding who gets to live or die.”
“If the gods didn’t want us killing men, then they shouldn’t have allowed them to hurt us so much.”
“Indeed,” she agrees. “We only have the one life. We have to fight to make it the best it can be. And when others abuse the powers granted them, then what choice do we have except to fight back?”
Her words ring so true they pulse within me in time to my rapid heartbeat. “I wish I had turned to you when Mother died. I should have chosen you instead of Father. Together, we would have been unstoppable.”
“We have each other now. I think the past played out the way it needed to, but did you have to call me a trollop so many times?”
I manage to laugh through the tears starting to fall down my cheeks. “I did it because I envied you. Because I wanted to experience love and passion, but I thought the only way to make the match I needed was to keep myself pure. I let the laws of men dictate me. I thought it was the only way I could win. But choosing myself has been more freeing than anything else.”
Alessandra crosses her legs in the roomy carriage. “And now you’re choosing Eryx. A devil-born bastard who lied to you.”
“Yes, I am,” I say with conviction.
Yes, I am.
W HEN THE DUKEDOM FINALLY appears far in the distance, Alessandra knocks on the roof of the carriage. The driver halts the horses, and she steps out. “I will be here. Come find me when it’s done. I will be ready. To celebrate or to comfort you. Whichever you end up needing.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Kyros, remain with the queen.”
The man’s feet have barely hit the ground before I shout, “Drive!”
A whip cracks, and the carriage takes off again. When we clear the beautiful trees and the glorious Pholios Estate appears ahead, I see the masses. My servants all surround the front doors, palace guards keeping them in check. Another set of guards comes forward, ordering the carriage to halt.
“Let us pass,” I snap at the man daring to stop us.
“The king has ordered the estate evacuated. No one is allowed to enter.”
“That is my home. You will let us pass at once.”
“I’m afraid not, Your Grace. We have our orders.”
“Drive around,” I order the driver. We’ll take the back entrance if necessary.
“This is as far as this coach goes,” the guard barks. More men surround the horses.
I fling open the opposite side door and make a run for it. A group of guards chases after me, but I bolt for the hedge maze. At first, I worry they will overtake me, but after I make the first turn, they start to fall behind, lost within the greenery, unable to deduce what turns I make until I’m too far ahead. One guard tries to throw himself over the top of the hedges, but he only falls hard to the ground on the other side. His progress is too slow.
When I reach the unfinished center, I make for the exit on the other side. I know this path like the back of my hand. When I’m through, I don’t glance over my shoulder. Instead, I bolt for the back of the house, finding the servants’ entrance.
It’s quiet as the grave within, since all the servants were forced outdoors. I had feared I would enter the home to the sound of shattering glass and smashing furniture.
But there is nothing.
And devils, but the estate is enormous. Where could they be? It’s midday. Perhaps Eryx would have been in the study?
I try there first, but the door is locked, and I don’t hear voices within. My skeleton key is in my rooms, but I don’t take the time to grab it. I doubt they’re behind the locked door. Perhaps Eryx had been napping when the king found him? Dare I check the cellar?
No, I’ve been training him on etiquette and the proper way things are done. I know exactly where the two men are.
My parlor. It’s the king. Eryx would have welcomed him in the best room in the estate. The one I fashioned just for callers. He probably didn’t even suspect the reason the king showed up was because I ratted him out.
I hear the voices long before I reach my destination.
“Stay back. Both of you.” This from Eryx. “This is between me and the king.”
Kallias says, “This doesn’t have to get physical, but if it does, you will lose. I cannot be killed.”
“I’m pretty difficult to kill, myself.”
“Difficult and impossible are two different things.”
“I said stay back , Argus. Leave us.”
“Please, sire.” I pick out Dyson’s voice. “The duke is harmless. I don’t know what imaginings the duchess might have shared with you—”
“Dyson, shut up for once in your devils-damned life!” Eryx barks.
There is the briefest of pauses as I finally reach the doors.
“Show me your real face,” Kallias says. “Show me who you really are. I felt it, you know, something different about you at the ball. I never could have guessed it was this.”
I burst into the parlor, and all four men snap their necks to me. Before I can even get out a word, the unthinkable happens, quick as the blink of an eye.
One moment, Eryx is normal with his messy brown hair and brown eyes. And in the next, he changes.
Horns sprout from his head, his canines lengthen, his eyes glow a bright amber. A tail snakes out from a hole in his trousers, thin and long save the triangle of skin at the end.
“Eryx, no!” I shout, just as he launches himself at the Shadow King. Who cannot be killed. And it doesn’t escape me that he didn’t change until I was in the room. When he thought I was threatened. Stupid, foolish boy.
Kallias is dripping with shadows. They run over his skin and float above him, undulating to their own rhythm.
Eryx’s first punch goes right through Kallias, as though the king literally were made of shadow. He connects with nothing, and nearly collapses from the lack of resistance.
Then Kallias strikes. He slams a fist into Eryx’s exposed lower back, and Eryx roars as he finds his footing again.
Dyson and Argus run for me. “You need to leave,” the latter says.
“No, you two need to leave.”
Dyson and Argus each grab one of my arms, hoisting me clear into the air.
“Put me down immediately!” I scream at the two of them.
At the sound of my voice, Eryx turns, putting those wolflike eyes on his friends. He advances a step to them, to hurt them, but Kallias lands another blow, this time sweeping Eryx’s legs out from under him.
Argus and Dyson drop me at once, as we all realize that messing with me is the surest way to get Eryx killed.
As Eryx stands quicker than my eyes can follow, I say, “Stop. Kallias, I made a mistake. Please stop. I’ve changed my mind. I need you to call this whole thing off.”
“It’s a bit late for that,” the king answers as Eryx tries to slam into his gut. His fingers cleave through the middle of the king, rippling shadows, but nothing else. Again. When Kallias goes for yet another punch, Eryx catches his closed fist.
Catches it.
Because it’s not incorporeal. No, Kallias has to make parts of himself physical in order to strike Eryx, and Eryx is so much faster.
Bones crunch beneath Eryx’s hands as he tightens his hold on Kallias. The king winces, then turns his hand to shadow once more. It doesn’t take much time for the bones to reset themselves in the correct order. His shadows heal him just as quickly as Eryx’s do him.
Kallias smiles. “This is the most fair fight I’ve ever been in.”
But Eryx is beyond words. As he looks at Kallias, staring at those shadows he cannot make contact with, I watch in horror as Eryx reaches for that serrated dagger he keeps on himself at all times and rakes it over his own left palm, sending shadows spilling forth from the wound. With the palm extended, he reaches out.
And touches the king.
Shadow to shadow. It doesn’t matter that Kallias should be incorporeal. Eryx’s shadows are the exact same as the king’s. And he shoves Kallias onto the ground. Then he grips his throat.
Shit, shit, shit.
Kallias draws his rapier and rakes it against Eryx’s arm, sending more shadows flying. Eryx flinches backward from the pain of it, but keeps the dagger in hand.
“Eryx, stop!” I cry out. “Please, you need to listen to me. I’m fine. See. Come here. Come to me. I’m fine!”
But he doesn’t even turn his head in my direction. His entire being is focused on the king. On my sister’s husband, who unwittingly put himself in danger. If Eryx found a way to touch him when he’s incorporeal, then he very much can die, even with Alessandra almost a mile away from the manor.
Sparks fly as rapier and dagger meet and dance. Eryx is faster, but he’s limited to where he can strike Kallias with his own shadows. His own wounds. Gods, it must be painful.
Dyson and Argus stand helplessly beside me. Honestly, whatever did they possibly think they could do when Eryx was like this? He can’t be stopped. No mortal man is a match for him. How could they have deluded themselves into thinking they could stop the beast from getting what he wants?
Eryx takes a slice to his side, and shadows ripple from the wound. He then uses that same side to barrel into Kallias, sending him to the ground once more. Eryx injures his own palm again so he can make contact with the king.
Kallias rolls over, despite having the breath knocked from him.
“Call him off, Chrysantha,” the king says when he can draw breath into his lungs once more. “I will stop if he does.”
“I tried!” I shriek back. “He’s past reason now!”
Kallias has to block a series of slashes from that nasty dagger. But Eryx is too fast, and the third lands on the king’s wrist, where his hand is corporeal to hold the blade.
More shadows spill into the mix.
Someone is going to die. Of that, I’m certain. And if it’s my sister’s husband, then any hope of rekindling a relationship with her will be ruined forever.
If it’s Eryx, I will not be able to live through the guilt.
But me? This is all my fault, and my sacrifice is the only one I will tolerate in this moment.
In perhaps the most foolish mistake of my life, I advance. And the next time the two men are thrown apart, I insert myself between them.
Eryx is poised for the next strike. That dagger comes within a hair’s breadth of me, but I don’t close my eyes. I keep mine directly focused on his.
He halts; he doesn’t land another blow.
Instead, he growls at me.
And I growl right back.
He tries to look over my shoulder, to get to Kallias, so I make another reckless move. I step closer, press my body against his, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
I kiss him.
The beast goes utterly still, and I can almost hear his brain working. Thoughts of killing to protect me fly out the window as a new desire overcomes Eryx.
He drops the dagger as he scoops me into his arms. The monster is fully out, and he doesn’t recede. Not as he carries me from the room.
I don’t care one bit.
“Alessandra is on the edge of the estate with my footman,” I call over his shoulder. “I’ll come find you both later.”
Argus and Dyson try to step in front of Eryx, and he bares those canines at them both.
“Don’t,” I say. “I choose this. You would all do well to stay far, far away.”
For I feel just as bestial as Eryx in this moment.
He tries to carry me to the cellar, but I stop him with a yank on one of his horns.
“No,” I say, and I direct him to the duchess suite instead. As he ascends the stairs, he breathes deeply, taking in the scent of me. My arms rove over his chest and face, touching where I can. The bedroom cannot come soon enough.
Eryx slams the door to the duchess suite closed with one foot. He lowers me onto the bed before taking my mouth in a heated kiss. His teeth graze my lips, but they don’t break the skin, and the contact is exhilarating. His clothing is in tatters from where the king slashed at it, so it hardly takes much effort on my part to remove it. Eryx does as he meant to the first time by the lake, shredding my dress under his brute strength.
He stares down at me, taking in the length of my naked body underneath his. He shudders at the sight of it.
And then he claims me.
But more important, I claim him.
W E ’ RE BOTH PANTING ON THE bed by the time we’re done.
Only then do the changes fade.
The horns and tail disappear. His canines return to normal. Only his amber eyes are left when he props himself up on one elbow and looks at me.
“Did I hurt you?”
I grin in response. “Did I hurt you ?”
His responding smile is delicious, but then, as though looking at me is too painful, he sits up. Eryx runs his fingers through that messy hair, and I watch the way the muscles in his arms flex with the movement.
“You went to the king,” he says softly. “You lied to me.”
“You didn’t seem to care about that thirty minutes ago.”
His shoulders slump in shame, as though he’s guilty for ravishing me. I nearly laugh at the thought, but this is a serious conversation.
“I lied to you about many things,” I admit. “I killed your grandfather.”
His head snaps in my direction.
“I’d had enough of his pawing and belittling. I smothered him with a pillow after he bruised me.”
Eryx says nothing, so I continue. “I also tried to kill you. The poison in your curry? That was me. Not Sarkis.”
Now his eyes are so wide they nearly pop from his skull.
“I thought I was in danger from you. I was convinced you were a fake, no matter what other sources said. You had stolen everything from me.” I bend over the bed to my ruined dress and come back up holding his letter. “Turns out I was right on all accounts.”
His eyes darken back to their usual brown, but his face is a mask.
“If it’s any consolation,” I say. “I didn’t read it until after I told the king about you. That’s when I realized my mistake.” I look down to the rumpled bedsheets. “I found out about you and Vander before reading this letter. I hired a private investigator. It’s the reason I agreed to put in a good word with the king for you and give you etiquette lessons—so I’d have the means of paying the man. I thought you lied about your feelings for me to manipulate me. To try to convince me to stop my investigation and let you stay. Always the superior to me. Instead, you gave everything up for me.
“And I…” A tear slides down my cheek. “I gave you up. I ratted you out to the king. I killed your grandfather. I tried to kill you. Gods, I can never fix this, can I?”
He wipes at the tear with a thumb. “I’ve killed innocents. I’ve killed not-so-innocents. I came here under false pretenses. I was fully ready to take everything from you.”
“But you didn’t, in the end.”
“You didn’t leave the king to kill me. You came back.”
“Of course I came back, you stupid boy. I love you.”
“Always with the age difference.” He rolls himself on top of me as his eyes turn amber again. “We’ll see how much it matters to you once I’m inside you again.”
A delicious tremor runs through my whole body at the promise. “The words you said to me in that letter. I want to hear them aloud.”
“Which ones?” he asks as he leans down to kiss my neck, but he knows very well which ones I mean.
“The only ones that matter,” I answer.
He raises his head to look me in the eye once more. “I love you. I fought loving you, but it was as inevitable as the sun rising every day. For you are my equal in nearly every way and my superior in all the rest.”
I make a humming noise. “You say such pretty words.”
“No more talking,” he demands. Then he claims my mouth.
I PROBABLY SHOULDN ’ T HAVE left the king and queen of Naxos to wait while I consummated my relationship with Eryx.
Three times.
There’s just something about knowing that my sister is waiting in the woods while I’m being pleasured by this enthusiastic man that makes it all the more exciting.
I truly am a terrible person, and I smile at the thought of it.
But as I realize that Eryx is still potentially in danger from the king, I hurry to dress. Eryx goes into the adjoining room to find his newly made attire.
By the time we walk into the parlor together, it would seem that my sister and the king have already made themselves comfortable. Kyros stands behind them at the sofa. Argus and Dyson have their arms crossed as they lean against the wall. A number of the king’s guards stand vigilant around the room, and I suspect they are there at my sister’s request.
There is a sharp awkwardness in the air, as Eryx and I take a seat on the sofa opposite the king and queen.
“The estate is quite lovely,” Alessandra says. “I thoroughly enjoyed my walk over here.”
“Thank you,” I say.
More silence.
The king leans forward, making eye contact with me. “Explain,” he says.
I look to my sister. “Did she not tell—”
“She told me. I want to hear it from you.”
I sit up taller, and Eryx’s hand snakes into mine, offering strength.
“I love this man. I have for a while. I was just too blind to see it. Please don’t kill him. He has no political aspirations. No wish to be anyone of importance. He’s already given up the ruling of the dukedom to me. Eryx only wants a quiet life in the country, as do I.”
Eryx’s hand tightens in mine. “I will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary, my king. But please allow the duchess to resume control of—”
Kallias puts up a hand to halt Eryx. His face gives away nothing.
Alessandra leans over and whispers something into his ear that I don’t catch. Eryx must hear it, for he relaxes ever so slightly.
Kallias looks at her with heat in his eyes, but he turns his attention to us once more. “You forged a will. You have brought undue stress upon the duchess. And you attacked your king.”
Dread crawls down my spine. “Please, Kallias. He was only trying to protect me. I—I can keep him under control.”
The king turns his gaze to me. “Don’t even get me started on your crimes.”
I swallow.
Alessandra’s grin grows, and I cannot tell whose side she’s on. Until she says, “I pardon them.”
Kallias fights a smile as he turns to his wife. “You pardon the man who tried to kill your husband?”
“He didn’t succeed. No one in the estate saw anything. No one knows anything except those present in the room. Besides, I think I like my sister and want to spend more time with her. You wouldn’t have me do that from a prison cell, would you?”
Kallias rubs a hand over his chin, and I realize that the two of them are toying with us, just as they’re toying with each other.
“I suppose your sister would hardly wish to see you if we killed her lover, and I can’t have my queen stepping foot in a prison.”
What is happening?
Alessandra rises before looking between me and Eryx. “You have one week. Then I expect you both to come visit us at the castle.”
I blink. One week… to spend time with my new lover before she expects us to be in polite company. Gods, did they hear us earlier?
“By then, I expect Eryx to have a tighter leash on his protective instincts,” she continues.
I nod, because what else can I possibly do or say?
Kallias holds out a gloved hand to Eryx, and he takes it. “Don’t mistake this for tolerance. If you cross any lines or get out of control, I will hold her responsible.” He points to me. “Since she claims to be able to control your actions.”
A low growl comes out of Eryx, and I smack him.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” I say for him.
Kallias looks around the room. “It’s a lovely parlor, Chrysantha. Have a good day.”
The guards follow them from the room, and Eryx and I stare at each other.
“I don’t know which of the gods is looking over you two,” Dyson says, “but by all accounts you should both be dead.”
“I’m still of half a mind to put an end to the lady,” Argus says with venom in his voice.
“Argus,” Eryx says, a warning.
“She turned you in! She brought the king on us. We should leave—”
I stand, releasing my hand from Eryx’s, and walk right up to the man. “Eryx and I have made peace with our pasts. Can you? I’m willing to forgive your part in all of this, so can you find it within yourself to forgive me, too? For I would have you all stay, but you’re both fired as valets. Perhaps we could find more appropriate positions for you.”
Argus and I stare each other down, but the man eventually relaxes.
“I won’t be no footman. You cannot dress me up in that.” He looks over at Kyros.
“What are your skills?”
“Killing.”
“We’ll… figure something out.”
I turn my attention to Dyson, but he already has a grin on his face, so I know there’s no problem there.
That leaves Kyros.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I reach him.
“You made no promises to me,” he answers.
“I know, but I had wanted to try. I started to, but something kept getting in the way.” I dart a glance to Eryx, who looks between me and Kyros with new understanding. “I had meant to go through with all of it. Until I read a note Eryx wrote me. He’s signing over the whole dukedom to me. Making it legal. I no longer wished to have the king hurt him.”
“He’s still dangerous,” Kyros whispers.
“He is.” And so am I, but I can’t very well say that. “But not to me. Not to those who we care about. Eryx has already brought up the subject of hiring a tutor for Nico. I think the idea is grand, and I would love to help him have a bright future.”
I can see the indecision in Kyros’s eyes. While he clearly loves the idea of a better life for his son, he’s still torn about Nico living under the same roof as Eryx.
“Just think on it,” I say. “If you decide you wish to leave, I will of course help you to find a new position.”
Kyros nods.
And that leaves Eryx.
“So what is my new role to be, Duchess? Are you hiring on anyone new?”
I lean forward to whisper lowly in his ear, “I’m in need of a new mistress.”
I hear the faint sound of the door closing, before I realize the other three men have left the room. Perhaps I wasn’t whispering as quietly as I thought.
“I’ll not accept payment for that. You have my services for free.”
“Are you sure? I’d give you a very generous stipend of fifty necos a month.”
Eryx winces. “In my defense, I thought the sum was generous at the time. I had no idea how much money the wealthy were accustomed to having at their fingertips until I pretended to be a duke.”
“I still have much to teach you,” I say as my voice takes on a sultry tone.
“I ought to be paying you for lessons.”
“You need an income for that, darling.”
“I’m sure you’ll find some use for me.”
“What skills do you have?”
“I can manage the accounts and deal with that horrible solicitor for you.”
“We’re firing him first thing.”
“That’s probably wise. Not a very honest man, that one.”
I reach out a hand to trace his lower lip, and his eyes turn amber. I’m going to have so much fun learning exactly what brings that out.
“Just be mine,” I say. “That’s all I need from you.”
He wraps a finger around one of my curls. “I’m already yours.”
“I’m going to teach you how to spend money,” I say, already imagining all the fun things I can dress him up in.
“Gods help me.”