Healing was her duty, but performing it had once cost her everything. Wren closed the blinds with a decisive snap, unsure of what to do with this strange, fluttery sensation in her stomach. It was almost pride—and more troublingly, relief. What a wasted emotion, when she would soon deliver him to his executioner.

“I owe you answers,” Hal said.

“Yes.” Wren perched on the edge of his bed. “You do.”

Hal shifted to the side. Giving her room or putting distance between them, she couldn’t be sure. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything. Let’s hear your wild theory.”

Hal drew a deep, resigned breath. “I only noticed the pattern after my third subordinate went missing. They were always taken during patrols of our border with Cernos. It was so targeted, I couldn’t help but feel it was a summons. When I approached the magistrate with my concerns, he dismissed me. Between war preparations and the upcoming election, he was unwilling to waste resources on speculation. He claimed Cernos had neither the means nor the motive to do such a thing.”

“But Danu did.”

“Yes.”

Of course the magistrate believed that, just as Isabel believed it was Vesria. After so many years of antagonism, it was the only logical explanation. “He claimed we were trying to weaken your army before war broke out. Didn’t he?”

Hal thinned his lips. “Yes.”

How foolish they all were. How blinded by their hatred. Someone was kidnapping soldiers, but even if it made little sense, they were so eager to blame it on each other.

“And why didn’t that satisfy you?” Wren asked.

“Because it was improbable. Because I don’t want another war.”

“You keep saying that.” The harshness of her voice faltered. “And I believe you. I almost want to believe what they say about you is a lie, but I saw it. How could you have changed so much?”

“What’s done is done. I can’t change that. But I can do everything in my power to ensure no one like me exists again.” Hal lowered his eyes. “I’ve come to hate what I can do. I remember all of them—every person I have killed. I don’t know how much more death I can hold in my mind.”

His conviction filled her with a strange longing—almost admiration. It took strength to confront your mistakes, and even more to change. After so many infractions, she’d only continued on, reckless as ever. She’d run away from her latest failure.

“So what’d you do next?” she rasped.

“After some research, I discovered that Lowry owned the borderland territory and had recently acquired a property called the Guiding Light from the Duke of Matthonwy. I also learned his father was detained by a group of military police.” Hal frowned. “It wasn’t much, but it was the only lead I had. So, I left to pursue my suspicion.”