Ren swallowed around a lump in her throat. “I would have told you, Aud, but I couldn’t bear the thought of my only real friend left hating me.”

“How could I hate you?” Audrina cocked her head. “I know you, Ren. You care about this country. If you were willing to turn against Kolonya, you must have had good reason.”

Ren pursed her mouth. “Just the same tall redheaded reason I do anything foolish.”

“Now, him I hate.” Audrina crossed her arms. “Is Danton working for the rebellion? You should use that as leverage—clear your name and lock him up instead.”

“I can’t do that,” Ren said, voice low. “Me, my father might spare. An outer Reach ambassador, they’d hang.”

“Well, he should have considered that before he betrayed Kolonya. We give him a place to live in the Keep, offer him a cushy ambassadorship, and this is his thanks?”

Ren ran a hand through her hair. “He didn’t know the rebellion would take things as far as they did. He just wanted to help his Reach—and so did I. The rebels are terrible, but so is what we’ve done to the other Reaches. Despite everything… I can’t watch him die for me.”

Audrina swore softly. “You still love him.”

“No, I…” But the denial died on her lips. Right now, with nobody but her best friend to hear, Ren couldn’t keep lying. Not even to herself.

Her shoulders sagged. Everything he’d done, every decision he made—helping the rebellion, offering to take the fall for her, Sun above, even his sham marriage to Lexana. Those were all decisions Ren would have made, too, in his shoes. If Lexana’s dowry would’ve been large enough to support his Reach for months, how could she blame him for wanting it?

Danton was like her—once he set his heart on a goal, he’d stop at nothing to achieve it. Like when Ren swore she’d raise herself up out of the servants’ chambers.

Look at me now. She’d lifted herself out of that muck, all right. Straight into a sinkhole.

“My mind and his work the same way,” Ren finally answered. “I love him the way I love myself—I can’t help it, in spite of all the terrible decisions I make.”

Audrina sighed. “Just remember, love clouds our judgments, Ren. It lures us into forgiving sins that ought never to be pardoned.” Audrina’s fists tightened, and suddenly it occurred to Ren that her friend wasn’t talking about Danton anymore.

“I’m doing it again,” Ren said. “Only talking about myself. How are you, Aud?”

For a moment, Ren thought her friend might actually respond. Then Audrina reached for Ren’s bread. “Oh, just the usual. Work, babysitting noblewomen…”