The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (historical books to read txt) 📗

We crossed the courtyard and approached a different truck than the one I'd arrived in. They locked me inside before piling into the front and starting the engine. We drove away from the compound, the quiet, neat streets lined with pastel-colored townhouses bleeding away on either side of me. I hadn't visited this part of the city for years and we passed places I hadn't seen since I was a child: the Racelle Art Gallery with its luminous mural-clad exterior, the multi-columned, whitestone Krisler Theater, the pebble-dashed City Library. I'd forgotten how pretty Matrus City was.

The sky was clear as I looked up. The stars glistened down on me, as if taunting me. It was a beautiful morning to be my last.

My heart palpitating, I tried to focus on the road. We met a crossroads, and I expected the driver to turn left down Wester Road, which was the most direct route to the labs. But she didn't. Instead, she carried on straight ahead, deeper into the center of the city.

"Where are you taking me?" I couldn't help but ask. My voice sounded scratchy. It'd been hours since I had last spoken.

Neither of the wardens bothered to answer.

The situation only became stranger when I realized we were nearing the royal quarters… The palace.

I wondered if there had been new labs set up recently that I wasn't aware of. But as we continued to make a beeline toward the royal quarters, it became clear that we were heading to none other than the palace compound itself.

What is happening?

We glided down the final road that led to the high wall surrounding the majestic tower which served as the queen’s and her courtiers' residence. Constructed from white stone and dotted with tall windows, it loomed over thirteen floors. The queen was reputed to live at the very top, occupying the highest two floors with her daughters.

Upon our arrival at the cast-iron gates, we were searched before they allowed us inside.

I had never been on this side of the gates before, I had only seen the occasional photograph in the papers, and my eyes struggled to take in the incredible sight. Surrounding the tower were geometrical gardens whose lawns were almost too green, flowers almost too large and vibrant. Ornamental fountains spiked with stone fish gushed out water. Quaint stone paths wound through the grass and flora, leading up to the main entrance of the tower: double shiny steel doors.

"Why am I here?" I asked again.

"Just follow," the warden holding my right arm replied.

Arriving at the steel doors, the wardens knocked. The doors whined open seconds later. A chambermaid wearing a starched white dress appeared on the other side as though she'd been expecting us. She led us across a luxurious lobby to a rug-clad sitting room before taking her leave. The wardens sat me down on a silky padded chair, then assumed positions on either side of the door.

As we waited—for what, I could still only muse—the only sound to distract me was the ticking of an old oak grandfather clock in one corner of the room.

Then I heard more footsteps. The doorknob twisted and clicked and a man stepped inside the room, a man I recognized. His hair was light—almost white—blond, and his face sported a thin goatee. His eyes were powder blue, his skin sallow. His features were altogether so fair and pale, he looked washed out. I had seen his face in the papers before; he was the only male consultant to Queen Rina's Court—a scientist whose name was Alastair Jenks, if I remembered right. Born and bred in Matrus, he was the son of a member of the Court, and a distant relative of scientist Ianto F. Jenks, who had pioneered the methods of screening boys—the same methods that were still used today in the matriarchy.

I felt a biting pang of resentment. If it weren’t for Alastair and his family, Tim might have never been taken and I might not be here now. We might still be living in the orphanage, or maybe I would have taken a job and started earning enough to become his official guardian, and for us to move into our own home. Tim might have begun an apprenticeship.

Why has this man come to see me?

He had entered armed with a crossbow and a shoulder bag. I eyed the bow's loaded tip. Perhaps I had been right about the wardens not wanting to wait until the main labs opened. Perhaps he was going to finish me off sooner: now. I had no idea why a man of such high status would do it personally though, and he didn't move any closer. He strode to a chair near the clock and sat down, his weapon resting casually on his knee. Then he let out a subdued cough, clearing his throat.

"I have some news for you, Ms. Bates," he said, his voice nasally and off-puttingly high-pitched. “Ms. Bradbury passed away in the hospital about an hour ago.”

My heart stilled.

“I also have a proposal for you,” he went on. “A proposal that I suspect you will not refuse." He paused for a moment, scrutinizing me. "A situation has led Her Majesty and the Court to find use for a person with… your type of background. We have been watching the detention facilities, waiting for the right young woman to whom we may offer this opportunity."

“Opportunity?" I managed.

"You took defense lessons with Ms. Dale up until the age of fourteen, did you not?" he asked, as though I hadn't spoken.

I nodded.

"The opportunity involves embarking on a mission which, if successfully completed, would suspend your sentence. It would allow you another chance to redeem yourself and reintegrate into society. Your previous crimes would be erased from your record. Forgotten about. You would essentially be starting from a blank slate…" He raised his almost nonexistent brows. "How does that sound?"

My anger had given way to bewilderment and I couldn't stop frowning at him. What mission could be so important