“Your Majesty, if I may propose an alternative.” Wren pulled the letter out of her bag. “I received this yesterday.”

Wren watched Isabel take in the red coloration, the gold-leaf antlers. All the tendons in her neck strained against her papery skin. Wren didn’t exactly expect happiness—maybe surprise, considering Cernos had never answered her requests for aid against the Vesrians. But the queen only glared at the envelope with a weary exasperation.

“What is that?” she said without inflection.

“It’s a letter from Cernos.”

“From whom?”

“Lord Alistair Lowry.” Her face burned under her aunt’s scrutiny. “He has a job for me. There is a disease in his household.”

Isabel let out a harsh note of laughter, as high as shattering glass. “Lord Alistair Lowry? That fool?”

“But, Your Majesty—”

“He is mocking me. He and his people think themselves better than us, above our plight. This is clearly one of his games. One I don’t intend to play.”

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but this seems to be the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. Why would you turn down the first contact from Cernos in years? He’s offering a political union in exchange for my help. His support could prevent a war. It could save lives.”

“If I want your counsel, I will ask for it. You will not address me so informally.”

“Your Majesty, I insist you reconsider! For the good of Danu, we cannot turn him away. We’ve already lost too many—”

“Allow me to be more blunt.” Isabel rose from behind her desk. She dripped with clinking silver jewelry and venom. Even in ivory silk and a lacy muslin collar, she was terrifying. “Let us assume that Lowry requests your service in earnest. Let us assume that you would be the first person to establish contact with Cernos. With your track record, you’re sooner to start a war than to end one.”

“I know how to handle myself in—”

“You’ve done nothing but disappoint me.” Isabel’s voice grew sharp. “You’re foolhardy. You’re emotional. You’re easily manipulated. You are the very last person I would consider sending on an assignment like this.”

Every word was a needle, each one piercing deeper than the last. Wren forced herself to swallow her anger, and it burned all the way down. But the queen was not finished.