Una closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were as flat and cold as a sheet of ice. “My orders are to keep you in this ballroom. I’ll not choose you over my duty again.”

So this was it. If she couldn’t convince Una to join her, she had no other options. She would have to push her away.

Wren reached deep into the well of hurt that had opened with her, and what she found was acid. “You think you can punish me so you don’t have to punish yourself. But I can see through it, Una. You lost Byers. You lost the boy. And then you lost me. You’re not as perfect as you think you are, are you?”

A flush spread across Una’s cheeks. Shock turned to anger turned to shame. Exhilaration still hummed in Wren’s veins at loosing some of the bitterness she kept locked inside, but there was nothing satisfying about this. As the last, wavering violin ceased to play, Una wrenched her hand free and packed away every emotion until her face revealed nothing at all. “You’re pathetic, Wren.”

Hurt begat hurt, over and over again. Wren didn’t know how to stop it. More than anything, she wished things could go back to how they once were. But everything they had, everything she had hoped for, lay in ashes at her feet. Gathering her skirts into a mocking curtsy, Wren said, “Thank you for the dance.”

“Don’t move. You’re not leaving my sight until your business with the queen is finished.”

Just then, Wren caught a glimpse of Hal, her medical bag slung over his shoulder, skirting the edge of the room. At his side was the Duke of Matthonwy. As the two men approached, Barrett gazed at Una in a way that could only be described as reverential. He removed his mask and clasped it in front of his heart.

“Please forgive my intrusion, Captain Dryden,” Hal said mildly, “but I wanted to make an introduction. The Duke of Matthonwy has an immense appreciation for Danubian military strategy—and an impressive collection of sabers.”

Barrett bowed deep enough to scrape the floor with his beard. “It’s truly an honor to meet you, Captain.”

Una gaped at the two of them in vague disgust and palpable confusion. “A pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I’ve heard so much about your leadership in the war.”

“Yes!” Wren interjected. “Captain Dryden was my commanding officer in the war. She is not only a fearsome soldier but also a brilliant storyteller. You must tell the duke of your exploits during the Second Battle of the River Muri.” Turning to Barrett again, she clasped her hands together. “She renders it achingly. There’s never a dry eye in the room.”

Una seared her with a warning glare.