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“Then what do you mean?” I ask.

“When you hate someone so fiercely, they have to be worthy of that hatred. You wouldn’t ardently hate someone who was beneath your notice or someone who didn’t compare to you in wits or charisma. You have to be on equal grounds to hate someone so much. And that level of hate inherently comes with a level of respect. You’re recognizing that they’re an actual threat. That they compare to you.”

Tekla nods vehemently. “And when that level of hatred comes with that level of respect, it’s all too easy for that passion to turn from one form to another.”

The hair at the back of my neck stands on end, and goose bumps erupt on my arms. I do a quick look around the library. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone was watching us.

“I had never thought of it that way,” Damasus says. “I rather like that description.”

“That’s why love stories about enemies turned to lovers are so popular,” Tekla says. “It’s the level of feeling. That intensity. It’s so dynamic.”

“Of course,” Karla says, “not all heated relationships need to start off that way.” She looks sheepishly at Tekla. “Friendship is just as good and powerful of a start for a courtship.”

“Definitely,” Tekla says. The girls’ eyes meet, and Damasus and I hurry to look elsewhere.

My eyes land on two amber orbs floating above the dark crevice of a row of books, but I blink and they’re gone.

I keep my voice from quivering as I say, “I thought the two men in the story were awful to each other. The words exchanged, the closed fists that were thrown—how can you really come back from something like that?”

“Do not siblings treat each other abominably when they truly love each other deep down? Can’t two lovers do the same?” Karla asks.

“No,” I assert. “No, love should be soft and caring. It should be given without insults and antagonism.”

“What world are you living in?” Damasus asks with humor.

Karla laughs. “One where the duchess pays men for favors. For her, love is only present when she’s the one in control.”

Tekla pinches her arm.

“What?” Karla asks.

And then she sees my face.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. That was a joke. I didn’t mean—”

“What do you know about love?” I snap. “You two have been making eyes at each other, but you’re both too afraid to actually start something. At least I go after what I want!”

The girls’ cheeks heat, and Damasus rounds on me. “Your Grace, I don’t think that was appro—”

“And you! You’ve been single as long as I can recall, Damasus, so what do you know?”

The butler’s eyes darken. “I do not experience attraction the way others do, but that does not mean that I don’t like reading these books and discussing them. When did this meeting turn so sour?”

I glance around the room, looking for those eyes, wondering if I’m seeing them because they’re really there or because getting rid of Eryx has become an obsession. The duke can’t really be listening in, can he?

When I don’t see them anywhere, I relax. No, of course he’s not anywhere. He has much better things to do than listen in on a silly discussion of a romance novel. I’m simply overtaxed by everything that’s happened in the last month.

And my friends are not the ones I’m angry with. I’m frustrated with myself for expending too many of my thoughts on a fake duke.

“I apologize for my harsh words,” I say, first looking each of the girls in the eye, and then the butler. “I’m not myself today, but that’s no excuse. You are my friends, and you deserve better treatment. It shan’t happen again.”

“I didn’t mean for what I said to come out the way it did,” Karla says, her eyes not once daring to look at Tekla. “You were so mistreated by the late duke. No one thinks poorly of you for your choices. We all do what we must to survive. To find happiness. I think that looks different for everyone.”

Though her hand trembles, Tekla reaches out until her fingers grasp Karla’s. The second girl doesn’t pull away.

“Damasus, I have something I’d like to discuss with you out in the hallway,” I say abruptly.

“Of course, Your Grace.”