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The intruder looks heavenward as he says, “My name is Eryx Demos. Hadrian Demos was my grandfather. I’m the new Duke of Pholios. I’ve just arrived from overseas to take up my lands and title.”

My heart stops beating in my chest, and my skin goes cold. “What?” I whisper.

“This is my estate, and these are my rooms,” he says, returning his gaze to me.

“No,” I say, quietly at first. Then: “No! Pholios had no children. No heirs. This is some kind of horrible scam! I shall send for Vander at once.”

“You do that, but he’ll tell you the same thing I just did.” Eryx places a hand on the back of his neck and cracks it.

“Why wouldn’t he have told me this before?”

“How should I know? All Vander told me about you was that you’re a bit—uh… simple.”

Did Vander put this into motion before or after I paid him a visit about trying to steal money from me? Is this payback for putting him in his place? Or did he think me such an easy mark that he made plans to have a man of his choosing pretend to be the duke’s grandson so the two could pilfer the earnings of the estate?

And I have no doubt that this is some ruse, because IknowPholios had no heirs. That’s precisely why I picked him.

“Vander must have me confused with someone else,” I say. “For I can assure you I am quite competent and capable of running this estate.”

“Yes, I can see you’ve made all kinds of… interesting changes.” He surveys the room with distaste. “No matter. I’m sure we can return most of this horrid furniture. Restore the room to its manly glory.”

Did he just saymanly glory?

“You won’t be returning anything. The money I’ve spent is mine. This manor is mine. And you will not take it from me, you insolent child!”

“I am eighteen,” he says through clenched teeth. A surprise, I thought him at least a year older.

“Ah, my junior by a year,” I say haughtily.

“I doubt that. When’s your birthday?”

“November.”

“You have five months on me, Duchess. That hardly warrants calling me a child.” His calm tone only infuriates me.

“And yet, you’re not of age. I’m closer to twenty-one than you are, which means the estate will remain in my hands until then.” I don’t know what to believe. I don’t really even know what I’m saying anymore. The world has tilted, and I’m trying to keep from falling.

Eryx laughs. “Oh, no you don’t. Listen here, vixen. This is my birthright. I bear the title of duke, whether or not I’m of age. I outrank you,dowager. We will take this matter to the king if need be, but I’m not backing down.”

“Go ahead. The king is about to become my brother-in-law.”

Which really just means that I’m royally screwed. For Kallias is clearly being puppeted by Alessandra, and she’s not about to do me any favors. I called her a trollop the last time I wrote her.

But the lie is worth it when I see a hitch in his calm facade.

Perhaps it’s just my imagination, but for the briefest moment, I swear I see the supposed duke’s eyes change color, lightening from a deep brown to bright amber, but it must just be the light, because I blink and there is no change at all. Eryx looks impossibly more tired than when I first spotted him in the room. His fingers slide through his hair as he sighs heavily.

“You picked the wrong mark,” I say. “I will see you and Vander in prison by tomorrow.”

Calmly, resolutely, he extends his right hand forward, where I note for the first time that he’s wearing a ring.

Pholios’s seal.

How the hell did he get that? It was on Pholios’s hand when he died.

Wasn’t it?

Well, that at least explains how he got past the servants.