Wren gestured helplessly to the empty field around them. “Going for a walk?”

“Right.” Una’s eyes flitted from Wren’s suitcase to her civilian’s cloak. As if speaking to a spooked horse, she said, “I heard what happened. We can talk about this.”

“What did you hear?” Wren kept her voice breezy, her gaze fixed straight ahead.

“The queen shouldn’t have moved you from the abbey. But as soon as I capture Cavendish, I will see that she listens to reason. She’ll reinstate you and reauthorize our investigation. Together, we’ll find out what happened to Byers.”

“But what if you don’t?”

“What do you mean, what if I don’t?”

Wren stopped and dropped her suitcase into the snow. It fell heavier now, in thick flakes that clotted on her eyelashes. “What if you don’t convince her? What if you don’t find Cavendish at all? Or worse. What if you do and he kills you?”

A shadow passed over Una’s face. “That won’t happen.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“You can’t either,” Una said sharply.

“So you expect me to go obediently to the mines and wait like a dog for you to come back for me?”

“You don’t have any other choice. Just be—”

“I have been patient! I followed your orders this time, and look where it’s gotten me.” Wren drew in a deep, steadying breath. When she closed her eyes, all she could see was that scar on Una’s arm, the only evidence she needed to prove that this was a risk worth taking. “The queen doesn’t care about what happened to Byers and the others. War is coming. But if I leave now, I believe I can stop it.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Una hissed. “You sound delusional. I know you’re grieving, but this—”

“Maybe I am delusional.” Wren canted her chin. “Do you trust me?”

There was an unspoken plea in that question: Choose me.

The ensuing silence carried the weight of her every anxiety.

Why had she even asked? Why put herself through the agony of demanding an answer? In every painful beat of her heart was I love you, I love you, I love you. By now, Wren had hoped to be stronger, but she was shattering all over again. Una would never care for her the way Wren did for her. She would always choose her duty over Wren. No matter what, loyal soldiers like her delivered deserters to their queen.

“Just say what you came to say.” Wren squared up to Una, but with her height disadvantage, she only felt small and foolish. “It’s written all over your face.”

“You’re making a huge mistake.”

“So let me make it.”

“You’re acting like a child.” Una’s every word dripped with acid. “Go back to the abbey. Now.”

“You can’t give me orders anymore, Major. I’ve been reassigned.”