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No, not smoke.

Shadow.

I’ve been close enough to the Shadow King to recognize what that is.

Black shadows trail from Eryx’s lips, floating upward, floating downward, floating outward. Eryx slaps both hands to his mouth as he sees the blackness oozing from him, but that doesn’t stop it. It only flows from his nostrils instead.

What the devils did I do to him?

“Eryx?” Dyson asks.

The servants all take a step toward him.

“What is happening?” I ask, true alarm creeping into my voice.

He flees the dining room, Dyson and Argus on his heels. When I look back to the table, where the shadows had started to flow over the dishes, I see that they have vanished, as though they were never there at all.

“Did you see that?” I ask the servants.

“His Grace seemed quite unwell,” Xandria responds.

“Was that smoke coming out of his mouth?” another servant asks. I don’t catch which one.

“Looked like it,” Xandria says. “Though I’ve never seen His Grace with a pipe before.”

All the waitstaff look equally confused by whatever the display was. Our minds are quick to find rational reasons when the impossible is presented before us, but I know better by now.

“I’m going to check on him,” I announce, shoving out of my chair. “Please clean up dinner. I doubt either of us will be returning.”

I race after the three men once I’m out of the dining room, fearing that they’ve disappeared back to wherever Eryx is hunkering for the night. But I can hear them, specificallyhim, moving about up the stairs.

Groans guide me as I place one hand on the railing and use the other to raise my skirts as I ascend. Turns out the fake duke only made it as far as a guest room before sheltering himself within.

I place my hand on the door and push. “Eryx?” I call out. “Are you all right?”

Someone slams the opening door closed, flinging me back. I nearly lose my footing from the force of it.

“Best stay away, Your Grace,” comes Argus’s voice. “The duke’s come down with something. You wouldn’t want to catch it.”

“That’s utter nonsense,” I say, outraged to have been kept out of a room in my own house. “You let me in this instant, Argus.”

“I cannot, Duchess. For your safety, you must stay on the other side of the door.”

A pained gasp comes through the crack under the door, and a small twinge of guilt courses through me. I hadn’t thought his death would be painful. I just imagined him falling over dead after the first bite passed his lips.

“He sounds like he’s dying,” I murmur. “I’ll call for a doctor at once.”

“No!” comes a shout. This time from Eryx. “No doctors.”

“Are you honestly too proud to accept medical assistance? You said you were sick. Let me ring for someone to help.”

“Duchess, I forbid it!” he shouts before a nasty cough takes over.

“There, there,” Dyson says, and I think I hear him slap the other man on the back.

“You cannot forbid me anything.”

“Damnable woman!” More coughing. “I will cut off your stipend again if you ring for a doctor.”