The Gender War (The Gender Game #4) by Bella Forrest (read novel full TXT) 📗

Ashabee paled, his eyes widening in alarm as he took in the sincerity of Violet’s threat. I knew Violet would never stoop so low as to kill someone in cold blood, but I had no doubt that at this moment, she truly wanted to. What had happened with the refugees hadn’t changed the situation of the world, but it had gotten us all in a dangerous mood.

Ashabee nodded hard. “I won’t say a word,” he replied, straightening his shirt. He reached past Violet, clicking something on the door. A panel lowered, revealing a computer screen that gave us a view of both the bottom and the top of the steps that led to the house. “These cameras have microphones,” he whispered. “You’ll be able to hear everything.”

Violet’s eyes took it in, and she gave him a tight nod. “Go,” she ordered.

Ashabee turned and grabbed the doorknob, taking a long, deep breath before stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind him.

I pushed in close to Violet, and she briefly moved her gaze to me before turning back to the screen, holding her breath. We waited in silence as Ashabee limped down the stairs, approaching a tall, well-built Matrian woman who was waiting patiently at the bottom, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Mr. Ashabee,” the woman said once he was down. The microphones picked up her voice faintly, but distinctly. “I am Maia Nelee, special advisor to Princess Tabitha.” My mood darkened. Tabitha’s name being dropped couldn’t be a good sign.

“Greetings, Warden Nelee,” Ashabee said graciously, dipping his head in an only-somewhat-wobbly bow. I was impressed at how calm and level his voice was, all things considered.

“Mr. Ashabee… before I begin, are you all right?”

Ashabee started, and then laughed, as if he suddenly remembered his limp and the condition of his face. “We had a bit of an incident last night. Several refugees from the city thought they could hide out here. They didn’t know anyone was at home.”

Warden Nelee’s face was impassive as she regarded him. “I see,” she said dryly, her tone blatantly reflecting her doubt. “Are you saying that these refugees are holding you prisoner?” she asked, arching an imperious eyebrow.

“No, no… nothing like that! We have made amends, and I didn’t feel right turning them away. Not after what happened with our defense system, anyway.” He coughed, clearly embarrassed. “Several of their people were killed.”

Nelee looked around, taking in the two trucks and the rigged gate. “It looks like a small battle occurred here,” she remarked, and Ashabee shrugged.

“I can see what you’re saying, but I assure you, they meant no hostility. They even helped repair the gate, and luckily their vehicles weren’t damaged too much.”

There was a span of silence, and then Nelee offered up a charming smile. “What a remarkable story,” she announced. “One I am sure you will be telling your grandchildren.”

Ashabee gave a polite chuckle, which turned into a cough. “I assume you are here to collect me, madam?”

Nelee inclined her head, confirming his words. “I am indeed, Mr. Ashabee. But before I do, I was wondering if you had recognized any other important officials among the refugees.”

Ashabee’s face reflected his confusion and he shook his head. “I did not,” he offered. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, with the explosions, several key members of the government have not been located—including, unfortunately, King Maxen. But… our teams have yet to recover a body, so we’re hoping that, if he did manage to survive the assassination attempt and the explosions, he might have turned to those he knew for help.”

“I see,” Ashabee stated. “So… no one is certain that the king is actually dead? Because the refugees were certain he had died, and—”

“I see I’ve said too much,” Nelee interjected coolly, cutting him off. “Mr. Ashabee, I hope you can understand—we don’t want to give anyone false hope. Just because his body hasn’t been recovered doesn’t mean it won’t be soon. We’re simply trying to explore every possibility, no matter how remote. I can assure you, the Matrian government is here to help your people recover from this terrible affair.”

“I completely understand,” Ashabee replied smoothly. “Please—whatever I can do to help, I am at your service.”

I had to admit, I was impressed. Ashabee had given the performance of a lifetime. His reactions and responses appeared so genuine. It might even have convinced me… although I still would’ve searched the place.

I held my breath, waiting to see if Nelee was that smart. “I appreciate that, sir. I have a second heloship waiting to carry us away, but may I have your permission to leave these wardens here, so that they can hand out food, water, and blankets? As well as give medical attention to those who need it?”

She was not just that smart. She was smarter. That was an amazing ploy, one that kept the Matrian bottom line while allowing her to work on her primary objective: locating the king. I saw Ashabee falter for a moment, surprise lighting up his features.

Then he smiled earnestly. “Of course,” he exclaimed. “I’m sure they would be most appreciative—we have food and water, of course, but it won’t last for long, I’m sure.”

“Well, it was very gracious of you to take them in,” Nelee said. “May I ask, how many refugees are there? Do you have specifics?”

“My valet Jefferies had the good mind to take down names, although to be honest, I have been dead asleep since our altercation.” He gave a self-depreciating laugh, which, surprisingly enough, caused Nelee to smile.

“Of course, I understand. We can speak with him to get the particulars.”

Ashabee nodded, and Nelee turned slightly, pressing a finger into her ear. “Bring the escort ship,” she ordered. Within moments, we could hear the sound of a second heloship’s engine drawing closer.

We waited for several more moments, watching the grass and bushes whipping around in the wind generated by the propellers. The ship landed, and Ashabee was escorted in by several wardens, not even