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“Pretty sure I’m already there,” he says, looking meaningfully my way.

“And you’re going to stay there, because I’m not leaving!” I turnfrom the room and exit the door before turning back. “Obviously I meant the estate in general. I’m leaving this office because I can’t stand the sight of your ugly face, you entitled ass.”

I slam the door behind me, then brace one hand against it as I try to get a hold of myself.

“W-o-w,” Dyson says, dragging the word out into three syllables. “I’ve never seen a woman so mad. You’ve driven a lady to swear.”

“She’ll need to get madder than that if we’re to be rid of her,” Argus says.

“Shush,” Eryx says. “She’s still here. I can hear her breathing on the other side of the door.”

I jerk away from the room as though I’d been burned. Then I flee.

ITHOUGHT MY SISTERwas the only one who could get under my skin like that, but that was before I met Eryx Demos. Ruining other people’s lives just to try to get to me? That’s a new low.

Anytime I feel as though I might burst from the fury I’m desperately trying to control, I imagine myself sitting astride Eryx with a pillow covering his head. When I remove it, I see Eryx’s eyes, unseeing in death. That’s what I want. I want him dead, knowing it was me who killed him, just like my husband.

Yet I can’t have that.

I can’t have anything close to that.

But the image sustains me as I lie awake in bed that night.

When Kyros knocks on my door, eagerness replaces my murderous thoughts. Finally, somethingto doabout all of this.

“Your guest has arrived, Your Grace. I’ve taken him through the library. No one else knows he’s here.”

“Well done, Kyros. You have my deepest thanks. Will you send for Medora?”

My maid helps me to re-dress enough to be suitable for company. Then I pad quietly to my favorite place on the estate.

The man I find within is young and strong. Perhaps late twenties. Deep obsidian skin tone. His head is shaved, though he keeps a short beard. He’s in a fine jacket and tailored clothes, so he must do well for himself.

“Your Grace,” he says, bowing at my entrance.

“Thank you for coming, Mr.—?”

“Tomaras. Ilias Tomaras. At your service. I understand you are in need of some investigatory work.”

“Indeed.” I explain the situation for the second time that day. This time, however, I include all my suspicions and any details that might seem pertinent, like the strange exchange with Vander.

Ilias takes careful notes on a paper pad before him, which I like. It is beyond satisfying to have a man stand still and just listen. He is on my side, unlike everyone else, and he carefully takes in every word I say.

“I can see why you have concerns. They are definitely warranted, and I am happy to look into the matter. Have you kept any correspondences of the late duke’s?”

“I’m afraid not. I threw out everything of his upon his death.”

“That may slow things down, but it will certainly not stop me. Is there anything else I should know?”

“The fake duke employs a couple bodyguards of some kind. One of them is a really dangerous-looking fellow. He calls them Argus and Dyson.”

“Perhaps I will look into these two men in addition to the new duke. Find their connection.”

“That would be wise.”

Ilias nods. “I think this is all I need to get started. There’s just the matter of my pay.”

“Of course.”