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The solicitor rolls his lips under his teeth and looks away from me, as though he might be tempted to say something he shouldn’t if he doesn’t physically restrain himself.

“Really, you’d rather have him as an ally than me?” I ask. “Perhaps you should ask yourself who you’re more afraid of.”

Eryx snorts.

“Fine,” I say. “I shall hire a private investigator to look into the matter.”

Eryx rolls his eyes. “There’s hardly any need for that.”

“I disagree.”

He sighs. “Vander, show her my birth certificate. And my mother’s for that matter. Give the duchess the proof she so desperately wants so we can put this matter to rest.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Vander leaps up and runs toward some cabinets. He rummages through paper after paper until he finds what he’s looking for.

With shaking hands, he offers me a small bundle.

“Could you try not to look guilty?” I ask the man. “That might go a long way in helping me to believe your story.”

“Sorry, Your Grace.”

I flip through the papers slowly, reading every single line. There’s a birth certificate for an Ophira Demos, daughter of Euphrosyne Demos and Hadrian Demos, Duchess and Duke of Pholios. Two seals have been pressed into the wax at the bottom, the late duke’s and the late king’s. So unless these two managed to steal from the king himself, Pholios has a daughter.

The next sheet is Eryx’s birth certificate.

Mother: Ophira Demos

Father:

It’s blank.

I look up.

Eryx sees what I hold and says, “I’m a bastard, if you must know. No father claimed me, but I don’t need one. My mother is the duke’s daughter. Hadrian claimed me as his grandson in his will, his legitimate heir.”

The certificate also bears the king’s and duke’s seals. Though, I note that while the king’s seal looks old and worn, the duke’s seal looks much more fresh. The wax isn’t so dulled, and there isn’t a speck of dust pressed into the grooves.

But that doesn’t matter. I can’t prove all my claims true off one small detail. I can’t even follow through on my threat to take this matter to the king. My sister hates me, and the king loves my sister. They’re not going to listen to a word I have to say.

I feel my heart pick up its beating.This is all the proof Eryx needs to take everything from me.

After a few silent beats, I say, “Two pieces of paper do not explain why Vander looks as though he’s about to perish from fright or why no one seems to have heard of you before. Not to mention the fact that the duke’s seal looks like it’s only recently been administered. Am I to understand that the duke only recently learned of your existence andthen randomly desired to turn everything over to you instead of the wife who kept vigil at his bedside? How remarkable.”

When I’d questioned the staff after breakfast, none of them knew the duke had sired any children. Even more peculiar, I found that none of the staff had worked at the estate long enough to have been there when a child would have been born. Had Pholios fired them all? For what reason?

Or are all these certificates, including the presence of the king’s seal, entirely fabricated?

“Fret and whine all you like, Duchess,” Eryx says. “It will not make me any less real. I am here. I am staying, and now all that’s left to learn is what the duke left you.”

“Right!” Vander exclaims, reaching for a briefcase he’d lodged under his desk. He riffles through more papers until he comes up with what must be the will. The solicitor clears his throat.

“‘To my grandson, Eryx Demos, my only living relation, I leave my lands and title, the manor and all its holdings.’”

He drones on about the tenants residing on the dukedom and the yearly incomes from the land. I perk up when he gets to the end.

“‘And to my wife, I leave an allowance of fifty necos a month and any gifts she has received during our courtship and marriage.’”

I nearly choke on my next breath at the amount.Fifty.A baron’s daughter would receive a higher allowance. Fifty necos barely covers a day’s worth of shopping.