The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)

Sitting was awesome. So much better than standing.

As soon as I sat down, Dr. Tierney let me go. Viggo, however, knelt down by me, his hand sliding down my arm, threading his fingers through mine. “Are you okay?” he asked, his green eyes searching. I felt my face soften, and I gave him a small nod.

“As well as can be expected,” I replied with a smile. Okay, I was exuding more optimism than I felt about my condition, but I was in no mood to admit it. I needed to get up, find out what had happened to Tim, and figure out what was going on.

He gave me a dubious look, but nodded. He pressed my hand against his cheek, his eyes drifting closed as he leaned into it. I curled my fingers slightly, feeling the rough beard forming on his jaw, and relief poured through me. We were alive, and together. That meant anything was possible. Dropping a kiss onto the palm of my hand, he stood up and slowly pulled away, heading back to his chair. A part of me wanted him to stay, longing for more of his touch—but I knew Viggo was too private a person to let our reunion linger in front of all of our companions. I’d seen enough in his eyes in that one moment to know he was intensely grateful I was up and walking.

I watched him a moment longer, before Amber’s arms draped around me, dragging my attention away from him. She rested her head on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m so glad you’re awake,” she said. “I was really worried about you.”

I smiled and patted her arm. “C’mon… you know no stupid princess of Matrus could keep me down,” I said, and Owen and Amber smiled. Thomas’ expression stayed locked in that same look of nervous expectation, while Viggo’s lips turned downward in a brief shadow of a frown. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been a very tasteful joke, but I couldn’t really help it.

I was particularly concerned about Thomas. There was something going on with his face, something triggering a memory, half remembered and almost dreamlike. I licked my lips, focusing on it, until I was able to piece together the last time I had been in this room. I pushed away the embarrassment and squared my shoulders, exhaling in order to calm the nervous flutter in my stomach.

Thomas was worried about how I was going to treat him. He knew that losing my brother, even temporarily, was a deep wound to me, and he was afraid I was going to blame him. Truth be told, the thought was rattling around in my skull. It would have been so easy to blame him. I had trusted him with my brother’s life.

But that wasn’t exactly true, either. Thomas didn’t like confrontation, or battles he couldn’t control, so sending Tim and Jay with him had been a way of making sure he got in and out okay. It had also allowed me a bit more control over what the boys were doing. They had snuck onto the heloship when Amber and I had left, and they had been insistent on helping. I hadn’t liked it, so sending them with Thomas to help him plant the bombs on the fuel reserves for the palace generators had seemed like a better solution. And if Amber and I hadn’t convinced Thomas to come with us to the palace… well, maybe he wouldn’t have been there to lose Tim, but all of us might also have died.

I couldn’t blame Thomas. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Jay’s fault, either, although I was sure the young man was experiencing his own feelings of guilt. Tim had stayed behind of his own volition. He must have wanted to help his friends escape. I couldn’t fault him for that—it was the exact same thing I would have done.

“Thomas,” I said softly, trying to catch his attention. He looked up at me, his eyes wide in alarm. “I just want you to know I don’t blame you for what happened with Tim.”

I looked him in the eyes, trying to convey my sincerity, and he gaped at me. Apparently the man had never factored in the possibility of me forgiving him, and I knew if a stiff wind had blown into the room at that moment, it would have knocked him over. After a moment, his shock wore off, and he shook his head, as if to clear it from a punch.

Viggo took advantage of his silence. “Violet, are you hungry?” He looked up at Dr. Tierney. “Can she eat?”

At the mention of food, my stomach growled, like an angry beast being woken from slumber, the promise of food bringing it to life again. I flushed at my noisy stomach, but was too hungry to deny it.

Turning in my seat was painstaking, but I did it, turning my eyes toward the doctor. “That would be amazing,” I said. “Can I?”

Dr. Tierney smiled at me, nodding. “Actually, I’ve had a broth waiting for you—I was about to have someone bring you some when you woke up—so I’ll go and heat it up, okay? And you need to drink a lot more fluids.”

She moved over to the kitchen, and I turned back to the table, shooting a grateful smile at Viggo. He met my gaze, the corners of his lips quirking slightly. Exhaling, I turned back to the table and returned my thoughts to the question burning a hole in me. I smoothed my hand over my nightgown. “So… H-Have you heard anything about Tim?”

Asking the question was hard, but not as hard as not asking it would have been. I already knew what their answer would be. After all, nobody had said anything when I had come in, and judging from Thomas’ guilty face, it was clear there hadn’t been news.

Or worse, there had been, and they didn’t know how to tell me my brother was dead. My heart contracted painfully in my chest, hard enough for tears to well behind my eyes. I reined them in, reminding myself it was too soon to jump to conclusions.

“I’m sorry, Violet,” Viggo said, breaking the silence and meeting my gaze. “We haven’t heard anything, one way or the other.”