Cyrus turned slowly, his face betraying nothing as he faced Bernard.
The human's confidence was remarkable, considering he was pointing a gun at a dragon.
"A forgery," Cyrus said, holding up the chalice.
"Quite convincing, I'll admit. Your craftsman deserves praise."
"Where's the real one?" Cyrus placed the fake chalice on a nearby table, his movements deliberate and unhurried.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Bernard kept the gun trained on Cyrus.
A low laugh rumbled from Cyrus's chest, starting soft and building until it filled the room.
Bernard's finger tightened on the trigger, but uncertainty flickered across his face.
"Bernard," Cyrus said, straightening his cuffs with casual precision, "let's not pretend. That gun might as well be a water pistol."
Bernard's jaw clenched. "You're in my suite, breaking into my safe."
"And you're pointing a weapon at someone who could reduce this entire ship to splinters before you finished pulling that trigger."
