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“You’re the one who barged into my home, intent on taking everything I own. How exactly do you think I should be treating you?”

“I’m trying to make the best out of a difficult situation.”

“The best for you. Not me.”

He grinds his teeth. “You’re impossible.”

I know, and it is the most delightful thing in the world. I have spent far too long playing the simpleton, keeping silent, minding myself. Butspeaking, it is the most glorious freedom. I’ve missed it terribly, and Eryx seems to bring out a side of me that has long since been kept dormant.

In the most mocking tone I can muster, I say, “It is a pleasure to meet you. I’ve never met a con artist before. For some reason, I thought you’d be a lot cleverer. No matter. My name is Chrysantha Demos. You must have thought me an easy mark, so I’m sorry you were mistaken. The dukedom is in my perfectly capable hands, and it will stay that way.”

His eyes narrow. “Finish your breakfast, Duchess. We shall go pay a visit to Vander to settle our disputes. I think we both need to know exactly what is in that will.”

CHAPTER 5

Iorder Kyros to ready one of my personal carriages. The pink one, because I know it will bother Eryx the most. He rolls his eyes upon seeing it pull up in front of the main entrance. Kyros hops off the back and holds the door open for me. I slam the door shut before Eryx can climb in after me. He’s donned that ridiculous floor-length leather jacket again.

“The duke has his own carriages,” I say. “And until your identity is confirmed, I’m not about to allow a potential criminal into my carriage, now, am I?” I tap twice onto the roof, and the driver sets off, leaving Eryx in the dust with a wide scowl on his features.

The kingdom of Naxos is spread out over a mountain range, with the main city sprawling across the full length of the largest peak. The duke’s holdings are only one mountain over, so the drive is not longer than a few hours.

I spend the time trying to relax myself. I’m in a carriage alone, away from that horrible man. I hadn’t realized how tense my muscles had become until I fall against the rose-cushioned seat. I pour myself a glass of wine from the hidden bar and finally feel my muscles unclench.

I doze against the seat, since I barely slept the night before. When the carriage comes to a stop, I make sure none of my makeup has smeared. When I deem that I look pristine, I enter Vander’s building, Kyros and Doran trailing behind me.

When the secretary sees me, he bolts for Vander’s main office, likely determined to beat me this time. He announces my arrival to Vander, who then sends him away to make tea.

“Mr. Vander,” I say as I enter. “Have you already forgotten our last conversation?”

Vander doesn’t so much as blink as he straightens the glasses on his nose. “I assure you, I have not, Your Grace. For what purpose has your presence brightened our offices?”

I’m impressed by the light tone he uses. He must loathe me dearly, yet he likes my money enough to put up with me.

“A man barged into my home, claiming to be the duke’s heir. I assume you would not allow me to be blindsided by a stranger entering my home, so I’m here to get answers. I need your help getting the law involved so I can have this criminal removed by force, for I’m quite confident he will not exit voluntarily.”

Vander smiles.

Smiles.

He’s definitely in on it.

“Why,” I bite out, “is some boy claiming to be the duke’s grandson?”

“Some boy?” a voice says, and it takes me great effort not to look heavenward. Eryx enters the room. He wears no top hat, nor carries a cane, but Vander’s assistant takes that dreadful leather jacket from him. Really, he looks like a highwayman with it. His companions, Argus and Dyson, try to squeeze into the room after him.

“Wait outside with the duchess’s footmen,” Eryx orders.

“But—” Dyson starts, yet the more brutish-looking Argus pulls him along and closes the door behind them.

“Your Grace.” Vander says the honorific with an exaggerated weight. “Do take a seat, please.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I realize I’m about to be tag-teamed by these two morons. I ready myself for battle.

Eryx occupies the chair next to me, and I scoot mine over a foot so my skirts don’t brush his legs.

“Was that really necessary?” he asks.

“Obviously.”