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I turn my wrath on to the other man. “You do not order me about.”

“Wasn’t an order. Merely some advice, but I suggest you take it this once. I promise you won’t like the consequences otherwise.”

Consequences! Just wait until they both receive the consequences of helping Eryx with the con. I spin around and leave.

I have no immediate destination in mind, but both men walk behind me.

“I shan’t follow His Grace again.” Today at least. “You don’t need to accompany me.”

Argus expels a breath that could be a grunt or a scoff. It’s hard to tell.

“Great, now I’ve got his bodyguards trailing me, is that it?”

I see the man’s lips turn up out of the corner of my eye. “You’ve got it all wrong, Your Grace.”

“Surely neither of you thinks me stupid enough to believe you’re valets?”

“We don’t think you’re stupid at all,” Dyson says. “In fact, you’re far too smart for your own good, yet you can be completely dense at times.”

“Excuse me?”

“We were in the army with Eryx. Same regiment. He saved both our lives.”

Argus stops in the hallway, bends down, and begins rolling up the cuff of his pant leg. I think to stop the man from baring his leg to me, but I’m far too eager for some actual answers, so I wait until he has the garment pulled up past his knee.

“Gunshot wound to the leg. The Pegains put up a good fight before the end. They had us on the run, and with me injured, there was no way I could keep up, but that wouldn’t stop a man like Eryx. He threw me over his shoulder as he ran, fought the bastards while bearing my weight. He’s the reason I’m alive today.”

I look Argus up and down, taking in his considerable bulking muscle. “Did you put on some muscle since the conquering of Pegai?”

The man laughs. “Eryx is stronger than he looks, and when he’s determined enough, even my weight is no struggle for him.”

How can that be? Argus must be twice his size, but what cause would he have to lie?

Dyson reaches for the hem of his shirt, lifting the right side up past his first few ribs, revealing a line of scar tissue.

“Got sliced up like a filleted fish. Eryx got to the bastard before he could finish me off, then proceeded to help me hobble to safety, knife still stuck in my flesh, and him wounded almost as bad as I was. Course that didn’t slow him down. The man only gets more fearsome when injured.”

I look between the two men. “So you’re with him now because you owe him life debts?”

“Yes, but that’s not a debt we could ever repay to a man like Eryx,” Argus says.

“Why are you here, then, if not for his protection?” Are they merely his friends come along to profit from this scheme of his to play the false duke?

Argus and Dyson share a look, before the former carefully says, “Did it ever occur to you that we’re not here for his protection, but yours, Your Grace?”

They leave me blinking stupidly in the hallway, all else completely forgotten.

I chew on Argus’s words for the rest of the night, seeing Eryx in a new light.

What sort of horrors did the man witness in the war? And, remembering the blackmail, I wonder what sort of horrors Eryx must have committed. I know that soldiers can suffer trauma, that some are prone to episodes and night terrors and what have you. Perhaps Eryx is suffering in ways I haven’t begun to pick up on. Maybe if I push him in just the wrong way, I could call forth a temper that’s blinded by trauma. Add his strange eyes into the mix, and where does that leave him?

If it’s such a problem, then is it wise that Eryx be seen in polite societyat all? And how dare he allow himself to ever be alone with me if he might suddenly have a violent episode of some sort!

Is this the real reason why he sent away so much of the staff and then the workers? The fewer people about, the fewer people he’ll violently attack?

I find this infuriating.

Not only is he taking everything from me, he’s also putting me in danger with his very presence.