“When have you been anything but frank with me?”
A small smile is her only acknowledgment of that truth. “We have to bring my husband over to our side.”
I shake my head slowly. “I just told you—”
“And I’m telling you that we have to bring him to our side. In three days.”
Three days? I huff out a laugh. “You don’t ask for much, do you? That timeline is impossible. You’re setting yourself up for failure.”
“I’d better not be.” She slumps back in her chair. “It’s the only way we can keep him alive.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“My brother is going to kill him if we can’t pull this off.”
Shock roots me in place. I play her words back through my head, but they don’t make any more sense now than they did a few seconds ago. “Impossible.”
“You’d be surprised. If Zeus wants someone dead, they’re not long for this world.”
The tone in her voice makes me think she’s not talking about this Zeus as much as the last one. Her father. The long shadow that poisoned so much of her childhood. The man who taught her that the only way to survive was to tread others underfoot. I don’t blame her for surviving; I’ll never blame her for that.
But sometimes, in the dark of the night, I wonder what it might have been like if her mother had lived. If her early years hadn’t been a training ground for what Zeus considered good leadership. If she hadn’t watched her father marry and then—allegedly—kill two more women.
“Stop that.”
I jolt. “Stop what?”
She gives me a knowing look. “You’re thinking dark thoughts about my father. He’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.”
If only that were true. I shake my head sharply. She’s right. This line of thinking isn’t helping anyone. I swallow hard. “Your brother can’t seriously mean to kill your husband.”
“I highly doubt he’ll do it personally.” She makes a face. “Then again, he’s acting out of character, so I can’t take anything for granted.”
The very idea of Zeus being off the rails is, frankly, terrifying. We survived under the last one because he was more invested in being a charming dictator than actively feared, though fear was an undercurrent to his reign. Perseus doesn’t have that charm. He’s not the kind of man who can tempt people to flock to his side and curry his favor.
If he goes this route, his only option will be to rule through fear.
“The Thirteen gave their word that Theseus would not be harmed as long as he went through with the marriage to you.”
“I know.” She drops her gaze. “This is the part where I say they likely won’t do it personally, so it’s a tiny loophole to giving their word, but… I know.”
Her resignation worries me as much as everything else we’re talking about. Eris is never resigned. She’s a fighter to her core, but there’s no way she could have anticipated this from her brother. “Tell me that your brother isn’t turning into your father.”
“He would never.” Her eyes flash. “All my father wanted was power over others. Perseus wants the same thing I do—for our city and our people to be safe.”
Maybe. Probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that Eris has already proven that she’ll trample individuals for the greater good. The Thirteen are supposed to be equal in power, but it’s not the truth. Hades. Poseidon. Zeus. They stand above the others as legacy titles. If one of them decides to truly abuse that power… I don’t know what would happen. “Eris,” I say quietly. “I know he’s your brother, but Zeus or not, he can’t go around murdering people.”
She doesn’t look happy. “I think you’ll find that he can do whatever he damn well pleases. Especially when he has the support of several key members of the Thirteen.” Eris shakes her head hard. “He’s not bluffing, Adonis. Whatever my feelings on his plan, the fact remains that we either have to take action or stand by while he makes me a widow.”
I drag my hands over my face. I knew having lunch with Eris would be difficult, but not even I could have anticipated the direction this conversation has gone. “I would think that would make you happy. Being a widow, I mean.”
“I would have thought so, too.” She leans her head back against her chair, leaving the long line of her throat exposed. There’s a faint mark there, one she’s almost successfully covered up with makeup. I can’t begin to tell if it’s from me or Theseus, but I recognize the heat that blooms in my chest in response. I’m not overly possessive by nature, but she was ours to take care of last night, and there’s something truly powerful about that.