“Easy,” he said, coming up behind her. “I’m usually on Tholos, and I don’t work in here. It’s too much of a distraction.”

“Smart man.”

“I like to be the smartest man in the room,” he said, mimicking Zoe’s accent.

He was too confident, and she needed him more unnerved. He was impulsive when he was emotional; he tended to reveal too much.

“Humble, too,” she said smoothly. “One would never have thought you originally the—” When his expression hardened, Eris stopped talking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You can say it. I didn’t earn my title, not by skill. My sister did. I was only the Spare.”

There we go. Still bitter. He couldn’t escape the echo of being second-best.

“General,” she said, sounding regretful. “I’m—”

“Stop talking,” he interrupted. “Sit. Eat.”

Damocles had always had mercurial moods; his favors came and went on a whim. She needed him upset enough to be desperate to prove himself at the reminder of his sister. Not angry at Zoe for doing the reminding.

So, Eris did the only thing she could do. She shut up and settled in the chair across from him, trying to slow her hammering heart.

Everything tasted even better than she remembered. She forced herself to keep her table manners, but she wanted to scarf the food down. How she’d missed Tholosian soups, silky smooth against her tongue. The feel of tearing into properly cooked meat with a rich sauce. Spreading melting sage butter onto still-warm bread. It was almost too much. She was grateful for the med cuffs that matched Zoe’s outfit. As long as she held the first bite in her mouth for a few seconds, she’d know whether or not it was poisoned.

Damocles watched her, his face betraying nothing until she finished. “I apologize for my earlier rudeness, Zoe.”

Eris almost let out a sigh of relief. The pendulum had swung back. Progress. “It’s all right, General. My thoughtless comment deserved that response.”

“Then why don’t we make up by finishing our game of zatrikion?”

Eris paused, trying to keep her expression steady. Playing with him last time had disarmed her more than she was willing to admit.

The last thing she wanted was that board between them again, but there was no refusing. She forced a smile. “Of course. I’d be delighted.”

Damocles motioned to the guard, who went into the other room and returned with the elaborately carved zatrikion board. Eris kept quiet as Damocles set the board as it had been the last time they played, and they both resumed the game.

“So, you’ve brought the improved schematics with you,” Damocles said, shifting a piece. “I’ll have my engineers reproduce the design and send you payment.”

Eris stole one of his pieces. “Aren’t you going to look at them? Test the weapon?”