Page 17 of The Darkness Within Us

As I enter the dining room, I’m appalled by what I find. Eryx has made himself comfortable inmychair at the head of the table. Hehas two gentlemen seated on either side of him, thoughgentlemenis a rather generous term.

As I enter the room, the two extra men bolt out of their seats and make for the wall behind Eryx to stand at attention.

So they’re not gentlemen at all, but servants? Most likely the “goons” Kyros had mentioned last night.

“Enough of that,” Eryx says. “You haven’t finished your breakfasts.”

The first of the men clears his throat before saying, “You have company.” This man looks a little older than Eryx and much, much rougher. Really, he’s kind of terrifying with grizzled features. Ginormous arms. Trousers that barely seem to contain the thick muscles of his thighs.

The other is not nearly so enormous as the first, but Eryx still wouldn’t want to challenge him to an arm wrestling match, I’d wager. While the first man has dark hair and features, the second has golden hair and bright blue eyes. He has a scar visible on one hand. His eyes widen as he properly assesses my features.

“You didn’t mention she was downright gorgeous,” he says, and his companion smacks his shoulder.

Both men avert their eyes, looking to the floor. They wear workman’s attire. Simple cotton pants and shirts that I’m sure are much darker in color than the day they were purchased. Really, I should have assumed they were hired hands when I first entered the room. Though they haven’t the manners to be well-trained household servants.

Honestly, now that they’re both standing, they look more like bodyguards.

At the breakfast table?

I should have guessed the con would need more than one man to pull it off. Just how many will the constabulary have to round up and toss into prison once I expose the ruse?

“Duchess,” Eryx says, realizing I’m here with them. He doesn’t react at all to my appearance, which I find all the more frustrating. “Pleasedo forgive their manners. It’s been quite some time since they were in polite company. Won’t you be seated?”

He motions for a servant to remove the dishes belonging to the men now stationed along the wall. A fresh bowl is laid out at Eryx’s right. He rises from his chair and pulls out mine, as though intending to help me sit.

It is an odd sight, since the man isn’t wearing anything close to resembling something appropriate for a duke. He’s done up in all black. Pants, boots, long-sleeved shirt. No vest or jacket, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

Highly scandalous.

He appears to have bathed since last night. His medium-brown hair has less volume, though it’s still wild in appearance, but at least he’s no longer dirt-streaked. There are hollows beneath his eyes, making him look as though he didn’t sleep a wink last night.

I do a slow sweep of the room, making eye contact with each of my waitstaff, though they seem just as confused by the newcomers as I am.

This is so very, very wrong. But there’s nothing to be done for it at the moment.

Right now, I have a choice to make.

I’ve let down my guard. Been myself around the servants. Shown too much outrage and competence in front of Eryx to pretend to be anything other than I am. So what part do I play now?

I can take the seat meant for me. Pretend to be obedient and innocent so Eryx will let down his guard.

Or—

I can sit at the other end of the table and show my defiance.

I refuse to pretend for a second longer in my own home.

So I ignore the duke’s invitation, and I take the other end of the table, where I can sit and be Eryx’s equal.

The fake duke doesn’t move as he watches me. Xandria from thekitchen staff jumps forward to pull out my chair for me. When I sit and look up, my eyes lock with Eryx. He is the first to blink and retreat to his seat, and I feel a small thrill as though I’ve won some victory.

One of the fake duke’s companion’s laughs at my brazen move, and the other one smacks him again for it.

“Good morning, Duchess,” Eryx says, ignoring them.

“Good morning,” I say, leaving off his honorific.

“You still do not believe I am who I say I am.”

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