“Good.” As Isabel turned away from them, her three-pronged circlet silhouetted darkly against the moon, she looked to be crowned by horns. “Now get out of my sight.”

The carriage door clicked shut behind them with grim finality.

Everything was silver inside the carriage. The plush cushioned seats, the delicate filigree curling like leaves across the ceiling, the stitching in the pillow at Wren’s side, the tassels on the drapery over the tops of the windows. It was as sterile as an operating room.

Una, meanwhile, was a dark, jagged slash in the moonlight-pale interior. For the first time, she looked out of place and utterly lost in the queen’s trappings. “Can we talk?”

Wren turned away to hide the first hot spill of tears on her cheeks. “I don’t have anything to say to you. Although now that the queen has made me your prisoner, you can do as you like.”

“What else do you expect me to do?” Frustration edged into her voice. “My hands are tied.”

“Your hands are tied? Is that really your excuse?”

“Fine. Accuse me of cowardice if you must, but I won’t let Cavendish walk away without facing justice. Considering where your loyalties lie, I have no choice but to treat you like a prisoner.”

“Are you accusing me of treason?” Wren asked, unable to keep the venom out of her voice. “Everything I’ve done, it’s been to save Danu.”

“I’m accusing you of fraternizing with the enemy.”

“You don’t know anything—”

“How stupid do you think I am, Wren?” Una curled her hands to fists. “He surrendered and lied for you, that knife you have is Vesrian made, and you’re wearing his jacket.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that you’re not seeing things objectively. You’re not thinking clearly. I saw how it gutted you to turn him in. I saw how you looked at him in the ballroom.”

She refused to dignify Una with a response. Their relationship wasn’t any of her business.

“So the queen is right.” Una regarded her with open revulsion. “You do love him.”

“I don’t.” It wasn’t a lie, was it? It wrung something out of her to say it. “Goddess above, Una. What does it matter if I did, anyway?”

“Because he’s a monster!” Una’s eyes flashed with hurt. “He’s killed hundreds of our countrymen. Or have you conveniently forgotten that?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Wren said. “Nor have I forgotten that Lowry’s killed three without remorse. There will be thousands more.”

The silence between them was a wall, impassable.

“Neither Cavendish nor Lowry is a good man,” Una continued, softer now. “No matter what we do, one of them goes free. I have to put my faith in the queen’s judgment. I have to believe Lowry is the lesser of two evils. Can’t you understand that?”