The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

Morgan sighed and shifted.

“Ms. Dale has been found guilty of matricide. She won’t be recognized as a hero due to her actions. She… The only way to keep it from looking like an assassination plot was to censure her to spare you.”

“What?” I breathed, my stomach dropping out from under me and the world suddenly lurching off the tracks. “How could you…” I paused, unable to find the words, staring at Morgan. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the disbelief and anger from showing plainly on my face. “You signed off on that?”

“I had to,” Morgan snapped, her shoulders hunching guiltily, then a wince of pain going across her face. “The only way to keep you guys from getting caught up in Elena’s murder was to tell them Ms. Dale acted of her own accord. Which is true, I might add. I… I didn’t like it, but I thought of Ms. Dale, and what she would’ve done, and I knew she wouldn’t care if she were called a villain if it meant keeping you safe.”

Her words, no matter how true, felt like someone was dragging a rake across my heart. It wasn’t fair—Ms. Dale had been with Viggo and me almost since the beginning. She’d fought this fight as hard as anyone, harder than most, and she’d given her life to keep all of us safe from a psychotic despot.

Viggo grabbed me and pulled me hard against his chest, and I realized I was shaking so hard the tears spilling from my eyes were jolting on my cheeks.

“This isn’t right, Morgan,” he growled. “Elena was psychotic and killed a lot of people. It was self-defense.”

“I know that, Viggo. Believe me, I don’t like it either, but in the eyes of the public, their queen was murdered. Before she was legally convicted. They weren’t just going to let that go. I really hate it. But I did what I had to do—and what Ms. Dale would’ve done—and you both know that. Just know too… she will always be a hero in my mind. Always.”

Her voice wavered, and I looked over to see Sierra handing Morgan a tissue. The new queen immediately swiped it across the corners of her eyes, inelegantly wiping her nose on it afterward. I knew, could see in her eyes, that this did hurt her. And somehow, that made me feel slightly better about the situation. Slightly.

It would take a while, I decided, but I could let this go too. Because Morgan was right… This was what Ms. Dale would have wanted. For now, I’d allow myself to feel the anger and resentment that came with it. I just wouldn’t direct it at her.

“This is… too much to take in,” I said softly, after taking a moment to collect myself. “Half of it feels like a dream. The other half feels like a nightmare.”

“I’m in too much pain for it to be a dream or a nightmare,” Morgan replied tiredly. “But I understand what you mean. You should go and get some rest in a comfortable bed for a while. Process things. Edi will take you to your rooms. These drugs are kicking in, so I’m going to go to…” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence. Her voice got slower and slower, and she trailed off, her eyes drifting closed.

“She drops in and out,” Sierra explained softly. “You should go. We’ll reach out in a few days.”

“Okay,” Viggo whispered. “Thank you, Sierra.”

The little girl smiled up at him, a dimple forming in one cheek, and then turned back to her sister. Viggo and I left the room and followed Edi, who had waited for us in the hall. She led us to the rooms.

“I trust you won’t mind if I post guards outside your door?” she asked primly, giving us an expectant look. “It’s protocol whenever we have visiting dignitaries—for both our protection, of course.”

“Of course,” Viggo said. “I trust we’ll be able to move around freely?”

Edi’s smile was nothing short of bemused. “Of course. With an escort, mind you.”

“Why’d you convict her?” I asked suddenly, the words spilling out of me. I looked at her, realized I was tearing up again, and fought it back, forcing the words through my constricted throat. “Why’d you do it?”

The bemused expression left Edi’s face as she looked up at me.

“Melissa Dale was a dedicated spy and recruiter,” she said softly. “I knew her. Her loyalty was unwavering, until she took up with you. Do you know what that tells me?”

“What?” I snapped, still angry enough not to care that I was showing open hostility to an ally. Viggo certainly didn’t stop me. If anything, he stood behind me, an unwavering pillar of support. He wanted to know as well.

“That you were the cause she thought was worth dying for,” Edi replied simply, her tone calm and knowing. “She didn’t deserve what we did to her, but if she was willing to sacrifice her life to keep you safe, then I would honor her death by doing the same. Even at the expense of her memory. Rest assured, many will question it as the stories persist, as they will, and Ms. Dale’s legacy will not be forgotten by anyone. Including me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you alone—I know you must want to fill your friends in on everything. I’ll have dinner sent to your room.”



The conversation with Morgan had been hard; telling everyone turned out to be harder. I knew Tim was sleeping, so we began with Owen. His surprise, awe, and pain at the proceedings mirrored mine; I could see the relief plain on his face when we told him about Morgan’s new status and all our exonerations. But when I got to the part about Ms. Dale, I found I could barely get the words out. Viggo had to take over for me, and seeing Owen’s reaction to the news only made me feel worse.

At the end of the story, I made to go find Amber, but Owen shook his head at me.

“Do you want me to tell the rest of them?” he asked. “I know… I know this is hard for you. Let me share that load a little.”

I looked up at Viggo, who was nodding.

“That’s really generous of you, Owen,” he said, and the two men shared a look of understanding and companionship that warmed me to see. “Thank you. Violet, he’s right. You should rest.”

After that we were finally able to make it back to our room. When Viggo closed the door and pushed me gently toward the bed, I just lay down without speaking, and he pressed himself behind me, holding me close.