The Gender War

by Bella Forrest

  Violet nodded, her eyes surveying the area in front of us. I wasn’t entirely sure that I was right, but it was better than staying on this slippery roof as it grew more and more vertical. “I can make that,” she said, as if trying to convince herself of her ability to jump over the part of the deck submerged in water.

  “I know you can,” I said. “And I’ll go first, so I can be there to catch you.”

  That made her smile, like I’d intended, the kind of sweet, surprised smile that made me want to hold her. “How gentlemanly of you,” she said, mocking me a little—okay, I’d earned it—but the smile didn’t go away.

  Without waiting for the ship to tilt more, I backed to the other side of the roof, took a running start, and leapt over the lapping waves to the slanted deck still above them. My first boot to touch the ground slipped, and for a moment I flailed. But the second boot landed solidly, and I turned and watched Violet follow my lead.

  She’d given the bag containing the eggs to Tim in case we really did go down, and I was glad it wasn’t here to weigh her down. Her feet hit the slanted deck inches above the water line, and I reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her, not letting go as I led us to the railing at the boat’s stern and helped her climb over.

  Within moments, we were both clinging to the rails of a sinking ship. It was the highest position we could reach, and it would have to do.

  Violet looked out over the rolling water in the direction the raft had gone. The smoke had dissipated, but it was getting almost too dark to see without the electric lights that had decked the boat. But the life raft’s little red emergency beacon was nowhere in sight. “I can’t see a thing. Well, all this might have been in vain,” she announced. I could tell she was trying to be humorous, but it was a dark humor, one filled with the knowledge that in the next few minutes, we could be dead.

  “Owen will find us,” I said, and she turned back toward me, her eyes sparkling with hope.

  “You think so?” she asked, and I nodded.

  “Well, as your other boyfriend, he’s obligated to—OW!”

  I rubbed the spot on my arm that Violet had savagely pinched, frowning at her.

  “Owen is not, nor will he ever be, my boyfriend,” she said tartly. “Since apparently I like them arrogant and Patrian. Who knew?”

  I chuckled as I ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah, well, I knew my type from day one. The more difficult and headstrong…”

  “The better?” she supplied.

  “Exactly.”

  Violet bit her lip thoughtfully. “So… any regrets?” she asked finally.

  I looked at her for a long moment, then shook my head. “I’m not doing that, Violet.”

  She frowned. “Why not? Seems like a good time to me.”

  I pulled myself slightly up on the rails, looking at the oncoming water. It had risen rapidly, and the bow had sunk deep enough that I didn’t have to keep holding on—the outside of the boat was closer to horizontal than vertical. Still, it was safer to keep holding the rail, so I did, though I slid from standing to a half-crouching, half-sitting position. Violet eventually did the same.

  I couldn’t explain why I wasn’t going to talk about my regrets, not exactly. I felt a keen discomfort thinking about it at all, because it felt like doing so would be like admitting defeat. And there was no way I was willing to do that.

  My discomfort in that moment wasn’t even due to all the lives that were at stake, or the fact that our worlds, our cultures, were about to tear each other apart. It was because of her. Because I didn’t want to miss out on all the time we were going to have together. I didn’t want to admit that my one regret in this world was not getting enough time with her.

  Violet was special—I doubted she knew how special she was. I admired her in a way that most Patrians would scoff at me for. They had no idea what they were missing out on. All the danger that followed this girl around like a plague… she was worth every moment of it. She had somehow managed to become even stronger since I met her. I couldn’t help but respect her. She couldn’t stop fighting, even when the problem was as big as two entire nations.

  Her heart was as big as the river we were sinking into. She had every reason to walk away from this nightmare, but she didn’t. That alone commanded my respect. And it was that alone that had made me surrender something I had long since forgotten I even had—my heart. She made me better, and I didn’t want to talk about regrets, because there was only one thing I wanted, and she had already given it to me.

  She had given me her heart.

  That was something far more wonderful to talk about.

  “I’d rather talk about our future,” I said, and was immediately pleased by the incredulous expression on her face.

  “Our… future?” she said after a pause. “Saving the king is our current mission… Do you mean the rest of the war?”

  I laughed, my delight growing with her confusion. “No, Violet. I mean our future. The two of us. Our lives together.”

  She took a deep breath and then shook her head. “I’ve… I’ve never really given it much thought,” she admitted, and then frowned. “Am I… Was I supposed to? I mean, with everything that has been going on, I just thought… I’ve been going along day by day. I’ve been trying not to get my hopes up. The future seems so far away.”

  I shook my head at her, trying to formulate a response, but instead just slid myself along the rails toward her. She sat up, and I stretched out an arm and tapped my chest, giving her a daring look. Violet looked at the water just over my shoulder, and then back to me, her expression nebulous. After a few seconds’ hesitation, she lay her head against my shoulder.

  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, but she was smiling. I grinned, using my free hand to push a lock of hair out of her eyes.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “This is much better than talking about regrets, and if the ship sinks before they get back, then… at least our last moment will be a good one. One where we can dream of a future beyond all this insanity.”

  Violet considered this as she rested her damaged hand against my chest, right over my heart. “When you put it that way, that’s… strangely beautiful. If maybe a little unproductive.”

  “Well, I’m nothing if not strangely beautiful but a little unproductive.”

  She laughed, and I was relieved to hear the genuine sound of it. “All right… so when you think of us, beyond this war, what do you think about?”

  I considered her question for several moments. “I see a house in the woods. It’s warm and cozy. Tim’s there, and so is Jay. And hell, maybe Ms. Dale too.”

  “No Owen?”

  “God willing, he’ll be married, with his own life.”

  She snorted, and I could tell she would have smacked me had it not been for the fact that her hand had a hole in it. “You’re so mean,” she chastised. “Owen has made it perfectly clear that I am not his type. I think he’d prefer someone… a little less insane.”

  “Hey,” I said roughly, using my free hand to reach under her chin and tilt her head back so I could look her in the eye. “You’re not insane. And if Owen doesn’t know a good thing when he sees it, then I’m more than happy never to peel back his blinders. I hope you’ll forgive this arrogant Patrian for what he’s about to say next, but you’re mine, Violet Bates. And I’m going to fight for you, beside you, and probably with you, and it will be worth it every single time.”

  She stared at me silently, her silver eyes searching mine. Finally, she sighed. “How do you do that?” she asked, and I paused.

  “Do what?”

  Violet gave a little shrug of her shoulder. “Just… how do you always say the most beautiful things that make everything better? It’s like you have magic powers.”

  I chuckled and leaned back, looking up at the sky. “Well, if you remember, less than four months ago, I was a grumpy, surly, angry man who barely said two words to anyone if I could avoid it.”

  “That’s not fair… You
were in pain because your… your…” She hesitated, but I finished the sentence for her.

  “Because of Miriam’s death. And to be honest, that was the darkest period in my life. I was filled with this… unmitigated rage that I just couldn’t seem to shake. I couldn’t stop being a warden—the king saw to that—but I had such a hard time seeing the point in helping anybody anymore. Especially when the people who most needed me were the most difficult to help, thanks to the laws. I was hopeless, trapped in a system that seemed as endless as it was pointless.”

  “What changed things?”

  I met her inquisitive gaze with a crooked smile, surprised that she even had to ask. “You did, Violet. You, with all your curious questions and headstrong ways. You couldn’t help getting into trouble, and somehow, having you there with me… Somewhere along the way, I began to feel alive again.” She gave me a disbelieving look, but I barreled on. “There was a time, I can’t really pinpoint it, when I started to remember what it was like to feel happy. Not that you made it easy—oh, you and your ‘marriage’ were killing me. It killed me to see you with Lee, thinking you were his without ever realizing it was an act. And that night… after the Porteque thing. When you stole that motorbike and came up to see me. That was it for me. I was a goner.”

  Rolling her eyes, she shook her head at me. “No it wasn’t—you only came after me because the king sent you to arrest me! Hell… you saved my life and then arrested me. I remember how angry you were.”

  “I wouldn’t have been angry if it hadn’t hurt so much.” I flinched as she started to open her mouth, and added, “I understand now, but I didn’t at the time. Anyway, I digress. The point is… well… you made me feel like I had a chance at a future that wasn’t just me disappearing into the mountains. I felt like I didn’t have to be alone anymore.”

  She smiled at me, resting her chin against my shoulder. “Viggo, you make me feel like I can do anything. Like I’m more than just this violent person everyone thinks I am. You… you listened to me when no one else would. I think that’s when I started to fall in love with you. Well… that… and your white-knight-damsel-rescuing thing was a bit sexy.” She paused. “Although if you tell anyone I told you that, I will deny it until the day I die.”

  I laughed at the sincerity in her voice, but I had to focus on the part before the damsel-rescuing. Listening to her was such a small thing, but I could see in her eyes how important it was to her. “I will always listen to you, Violet. No matter what.”

  “And I won’t ever let you be alone again, Viggo. No matter what.”

  Kissing her in this position, with the water drawing ever nearer to us, was as impractical as it was delicious, and I had no qualms about it as I pressed my lips to hers.

  When our lips parted again, I took a deep breath. “You know, this may not be the most opportune time, but I think I might regret it if I don’t do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Patience, love. Would you mind it if we stood up first?”

  She gave me a dubious look, but stood up. Luckily the back of the boat was mostly flat, and now that we were at a ninety-degree angle, it was easy to stand on it. I got to my feet, took her hands in mine, and then sank to one knee.

  Violet gave me a confused look, but I just smiled as I gazed into her eyes. “Violet Bates, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  The shock on her face was worth it all. She gaped at me. Her lips opened and closed like a fish’s before she finally blinked and pursed them.

  “I…” she stammered, but the whine of the life raft’s little outboard motor interrupted anything she might’ve said.

  “Hey, guys! Over here!” came Owen’s loud bellow from behind Violet.

  I growled at the worst interruption in the history of all interruptions. “He has the worst timing,” I glowered.

  And then I heard a whirring sound in the distance. A heloship—maybe more than one—coming toward us. The sound was soft, but I knew it would get closer in no time.

  Shaking my head, I laughed bitterly and slowly climbed to my feet once more. “Well, it seems like the world doesn’t want me to get my answer today. Why don’t you think about it? Just know… I want my answer sooner rather than later.”

  Violet nodded, still speechless, and I turned to where the little red light on the life boat showed Owen frantically steering toward us, waving an arm at us to hurry up.

  8

  Violet

  Viggo just proposed to me.

  It was a simple thought, but one that suffused my world as Owen and Viggo guided the little boat back upstream toward where Owen had left the others. I would have helped, but I was still too stunned by Viggo’s unorthodox proposal to even fully understand what was going on around me. Well, that, and the day’s weariness was starting to get to me. The wound in my hand felt like it was sapping the strength from my bones.

  I looked down at where I cradled it in my lap, staring at the black lines of electrical tape crisscrossing the bloodstained fabric. It hurt, yet I simultaneously felt the pain and did not feel it. It was like nothing that was happening was real, like I was just dreaming. A very odd dream; sometimes terrifying, sometimes wonderful—running that didn’t end, what felt like constant betrayals… And then there were the few moments I spent alone with this man, which felt at the same time so real, so precious, and so precarious.

  I knew I wasn’t dreaming. This was all real; the hole in my hand was real, just the same way Viggo proposing to me was real.

  Viggo wants me to be his wife. He wants to spend the rest of his life with me. In a little cabin in the woods, with a place for Tim, a place to build a family…

  In the orphanage and then the prison system, the most I’d ever hoped for was maybe a little place for me and Tim, a future for him, a job as a warden for me… But this, this had blown my mind. I had never thought this kind of hope even existed for people like me. I’d never known I could want anything so badly.

  But the dizzying warmth I felt at Viggo’s proposal was at war with dark thoughts of our situation. Where would this little house in the woods be? In Matrus or Patrus? Would there be anything left of either nation if we couldn’t stop this war? How could I even begin to think about my own future when there was so much peril ahead?

  If Owen hadn’t interrupted, I’d have said yes. Despite everything. And I still could, I realized. I could make plans for the future, even if it was uncertain. I just had to find the right time… when none of our numerous well-meaning friends and allies were surrounding us.

  Come to think of it, it was kind of sad that the only alone time Viggo and I had gotten recently was while waiting together on a sinking ship.

  I was jerked from my thoughts as the raft slid onto the bank and Viggo hopped out, cautious not to get his feet wet, dragging the raft out of the water. Owen slid out next to him, and I followed, shakily, graciously accepting the hand Viggo offered me. I looked back toward Matrus and tried to find the spot in the river where Alejandro’s boat had been sinking minutes before, but the darkness covered everything, from the no-longer-welcoming shore to the wreckage of our ride.

  “Do you think it’s under now?” I asked softly.

  Viggo stood behind me, draping an arm over my shoulder. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, just as quietly. “We made it.”

  I nodded and turned to follow Owen and Viggo deeper into the tall grass that grew on this side of the river as well. We sifted through it in the dimness, keeping our heads down, and paused when we came to a small, almost cave-like area. The tall grass had been pressed down and was thick enough to stand on, yet the surrounding grass still covered it, making it difficult to see from above. The rest of our group was sitting there in a wide circle. I barely had a chance to react as Tim jumped up and threw his arms around me in a hug for the second time in a day, his relief palpable.

  “Jay… Me… Jump…” he grumbled.

  It took me a moment to remember his idea on the boat, and I frowned at him, uns
ure of how to respond. Finally, I went with, “It doesn’t matter—we made it, right?”

  Tim gave me a sullen shrug as he let me go, but didn’t say anything, sinking back into the grass next to Jay. I turned to Ms. Dale, who was tending to Alejandro, trying to rouse him from the blow Viggo had delivered. “How is he?” I asked, and she looked at me.

  “He’ll be fine—but Mr. Croft didn’t need to hit him quite that hard.” I could hear the disapproval in her voice, and I felt the urge to laugh.

  “I didn’t have time to gauge the punch,” Viggo said defensively. “He’ll be fine—he’s much tougher than he looks.”

  “Is it your practice to assault unarmed elderly men, Mr. Croft?” came Ms. Dale’s snide reply, and I rolled my eyes.

  “You two flirt too much,” I interjected before Viggo could formulate his response to her. I had the distinct pleasure of watching both of them gape at me before I looked toward Owen, who had been impatiently trying to get my attention. “What?” I asked him.

  “I was on the handheld with Thomas when we were hit,” he said.

  “Wait,” I interrupted, my heart dropping as I processed things that I had been too busy to think about during our escape. “Where did you get a handheld? Was it the one you had with you? Does Desmond have access to the whole network?”

  Owen blinked as my questions hit him, and he frowned. “Whoa—no. I stole one out of a guard’s station in the palace on my way to the garage. It doesn’t have our decryption algorithm installed, but I had to risk it. And no, Desmond doesn’t have access to the network. I mean, she does… but it always has to be through Thomas. He’s paranoid like that. It was the only way Desmond could get him to work with us.”