The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

For an elderly woman, Alyssa was quick, and by the time I went down the hall and followed her into the kitchen, she was already running water from the tap into a large metal kettle. She shot a glance over her shoulder at me, and then stepped back.

“Do you mind?” she asked.

I moved forward to help and waited for the faucet to finish filling up the kettle. Nodding, she stepped to one side and began reaching into cabinets, pulling out teacups with saucers. Her movements were practiced, as if this encounter hadn’t been entirely unexpected.

“I’ve heard about you,” she said as she moved, the clinking of ceramics filling the air.

I shut off the water and picked up the kettle. “Oh?”

“Not very much. I retired when Rina was still queen, so I stopped getting all the juicy details quite a while ago. But I have a few contacts in Patrus. I was consulted about the death of your wife, Miriam, actually.”

“Consulted?” I turned from where I had just placed the pot on the stove, gaping at her. “You were consulted?”

“Sorry. That wasn’t the best term, was it? But yes. I was, for lack of a better word, consulted. Rina had already petitioned the king, as was her diplomatic right as queen, to stop the execution—no official power in that, sadly; it’s just a statement in the end—but she wanted my thoughts on whether we should demand an inquiry into the event. To see if there was any foul play on your part.”

There had been, but it wasn’t in the way she intended. “And?”

She looked up from spooning sugar into a serving bowl and sighed, placing the spoon down. “I worked very hard to establish more rights for Patrian husbands in Matrus. It’s one of the things that made me popular. Yet as much as I did, it never seemed like enough. So I fought for other things: prison reforms, improving the conditions of work camps, restructuring the orphanages… I’ve done a lot for Matrus. But one thing I have never, ever done, is take a step into Patrus. Do you know why that is?”

“No, and I’m not sure I’m going to like your answer.”

“You’d be surprised. The truth is… my late husband was Patrian, and, much like you, very forward thinking, and he was adamant that I never go. Feared the idea, really. He knew that if I went there, even if only to make him feel more comfortable, I would never be able to adjust to the strict laws the Patrian government had designed to keep women subordinate. Eventually, I would fall prey to something, or say something considered out of line, or… get caught up in a situation much like your wife did.”

She pulled out a teapot and set it on the tray, pulling off the lid. She began putting tea into the mesh steeper, her crooked fingers moving with more dexterity than I would’ve thought possible.

“That’s why I tried so hard to change the laws for men in Matrus—not just Patrian males but all men. I figured if I could give the Patrian males fairness in the system, they’d be less inclined to make their wives move, and we could keep our citizens safe. But once they cross that river, their fate is out of our hands.”

Her message was clear and painful, but not unexpected. There was nothing she could’ve done about Miriam, either. She finished preparing the tray and looked up at me.

“The water should be hot. Pour some in here, and let’s see if anyone was silly enough to sit in my favorite chair.”

“How would they know that?” I asked as I began pouring the water, steam wafting up around my head, a few drops of sweat pearling on my forehead.

“Because it’s my chair,” she said, and I turned, holding out the pot. She shook her head. “Leave the pot over the fire. We’ll be coming back for more soon, I bet.”

She moved, leaving the tray for me, and I quickly replaced the pot on the stove burner and grabbed the tray, following her as she strode out of the kitchen and into the parlor that sat right across the hall.

Alyssa’s parlor resembled a library more than a sitting room. Ceiling-tall stacks of books lined the exposed walls, and stuffed chairs spread out around the room. Violet and Ms. Dale were sitting nearest a wooden rocking chair with a cushioned seat. As soon as I spotted it, I realized what Alyssa meant about it being her chair—it stood out alone in the room, much like she did.

She moved to it, sitting and pulling the blanket draped over the back onto her legs, smoothing down the soft fabric. I followed, weaving around a few chairs until I got to the middle of the room. I put the tea set down on a little coffee table, gently shoving aside some books to make room, and began setting out the cups.

“So I hear you have a story for me,” she said after taking a few long moments to get comfortable. “Please help yourself to the tea, but talk and drink—I am old.”

“Alyssa, thank you so much for this,” Morgan said, and Alyssa held up a hand.

“By ‘old,’ I meant ‘impatient and cranky.’ Let’s get to the point.”

I listened as Morgan began telling her the story, starting with the circumstances around her and her sister’s enhancements. When she got to Violet’s part, Violet took over and began telling our story, starting with her mission to Patrus. I interjected a few times, but mostly kept quiet, listening.

Tim spoke next, filling Alyssa in on some of the more… gruesome details of the experimentation performed on him. It was difficult to stomach, but he spoke with clarity and honesty, his broken words still completely able to convey the horror he’d witnessed. I watched Alyssa’s face closely as she listened, and was pleased to see that she was affected by his tale, her color draining slightly as he spoke. He wanted to demonstrate his ability for her with a knife trick involving his hand, but she called him off, telling him that wasn’t necessary, and Violet resumed her tale.

Even with only the most pertinent details, it was a long story, and it took the better part of an hour to get out—during which time Alyssa sat calm and attentive, occasionally asking a question, but for the most part silent and thoughtful. Everyone had spoken about something, including Logan, who described life inside the Patrian city before, during, and after the Matrian attack.

After our tale came to a close, Alyssa leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers against the armrests.

“I don’t suppose you have any proof of all this,” she said after a pause, and Morgan raised her eyebrows, nodding.