She needed him to bring it out—if not to come up with an excuse to take it back under the guise of more improvements required.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to?”

“You have four royal guards stationed at your door”—another piece was hers—“a legion out the front, and you’ve sent my assistants to another room. So, either you enjoy the presence of military and think my employees are as useless as I do, or you’ve increased security.”

Damocles sat back, a small smile playing on his lips. “Very astute, Zoe.”

“Pirates know a thing or two about security, General. I just thought you might like to verify my work.”

He made a move and took one of her pieces, but she was still winning. “I have every confidence your new schematics are more impressive than your prototype. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

Eris tried to stay calm. He was confiding in her; that was the important part. “Never,” she said lightly. She took a breath and risked it: “I take it you don’t trust the Evoli to remain peaceful.”

Damocles watched as she made another move on the zatrikion board. “What would you say if I signed the truce and didn’t honor it?”

And there it was. Damocles, you’re still so easy, Eris thought.

“I’m a mere merchant, General. My opinion matters little.” When his expression made clear that he expected her opinion regardless, Eris gave an answer that made her sick to her stomach: “If my weapons killed every last Evoli, I’d lose no sleep. For the glory of Tholos, and you as its future Archon. My loyalty is to you.”

Eris hated saying it. Zoe, both the dead one and Eris’s alias, would not have cared. She hated this part she had to play in degrading people from another Empire, and she hated how convincing it sounded. Because Eris had been taught her entire life that their lives didn’t matter, that the Evoli were necessary sacrifices to keep the God of Death sated.

But Eris also knew that her brother’s self-worth came from loyalty, from being seen as deserving of his place. The flare of satisfaction in his eyes was proof.

“And if they were the Evoli Oversouls?”

“I would be the first to congratulate you on your new conquest,” Eris replied.

So, it wasn’t just a coup. Rhea had guessed right: he planned to assassinate the Oversouls. The weapon could fire blasts but also disperse gas projectiles. It’d work with pressurized ichor. The weapon wasn’t large. It would be easy enough to hide. He still had three, maybe four shots left before Ariadne’s failsafe kicked in.