Wren kept her face blank, even as her knees threatened to buckle. Una did say she would try to help, but lying for her was not what she had expected. Wren tried to catch Una’s eye, but she was an unmoving picture of obedience, even as her jaw was set in defiance.

“So you editorialized in your report. How strange that he removed his restraints, incapacitated two of my Guard, and evaded capture, all with a broken arm.”

“As I said. I miscalculated.”

“I have never known you to miscalculate when it comes to such an easy target. Beyond that, your reputation precedes you. Your men revere you for your commitment to justice. To truth.” Isabel leveled her with an icy stare. “On what account did they misjudge you? Are you a liar, or are you incompetent?”

Una’s fists tightened, the only sign of her anger. “I confess, I more than anyone am shocked to learn I’m not infallible.”

“I took a risk letting you climb this high this young. It seems I’ve made a mistake.”

Una flinched. The first crack in her resolve.

“It would be a shame to demote you, since you’ve otherwise shown such promise,” Isabel pressed. “Are you sure you’ve not misremembered the details?”

“I—”

“I removed his restraints, Your Majesty,” Wren cut in. “I healed him.”

Una let out a sharp sigh, somewhere between relieved and frustrated. Despite the dread that flooded her, Wren didn’t entirely regret her intervention. It was true she couldn’t afford another mistake. But she couldn’t let Una sacrifice her career like this, either.

Isabel’s gaze fell on Wren like a guillotine. “Why?”

“Because it was the right thing to do.”

“I see.” Isabel opened a drawer and ran her fingers over the feathery tops of her folders. The chilling calm of her voice only made the anticipation worse. “You should consider yourself lucky the Goddess blessed you with such a strong manifestation of your gift.”

Sometimes Wren could convince herself jealousy tinged her aunt’s voice when she spoke of magic. Today she focused only on stifling her anger and her heresy. The Goddess had nothing to do with her skill. Mother Heloise’s brutal training regimen, however … “Thank you, Your Majesty. I do.”

Isabel tossed a file on the desk and began to read. “A history of impulsivity and disrespect in your lessons. A religious skepticism unfitting for one raised by the Order of the Maiden. I trust I needn’t remind you of what happened the last time your pity was misplaced. This will be your third offense.”

“It won’t happen again.”