The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)(37)

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

That helped calm me, though not much. It was fuzzy, but I had the distinct impression that I’d completely lost it earlier. It wouldn’t be productive to have a sob fest right there in front of everyone, no matter how worried I was. Besides… I knew I was going to find Tim. I had lived for it before, and I would be just as vigilant now. I just hoped it didn’t take another eight years this time.

“Your cousin Cal went back to the palace,” announced Amber from her new seat at the end of the table. “He snuck off base in broad daylight. Ms. Dale caught him coming back in, though. It was totally badass.”

I chuckled—it was hard not to. “His name is Cad,” I informed her with a bemused smile. Amber waved her hand in the air, as if dismissing an inconsequential bit of information.

“Whatever. He went, anyway. He didn’t find any sign of Tim, though.”

I felt a stab of disappointment, even though I had been prepared for it. I looked up as Dr. Tierney set a steaming bowl in front of me, filled with a clear broth that smelled faintly of potatoes and onions. I frowned at it, wishing there were more substance to it, and she reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “I know it isn’t much to look at, but we should start with a simple broth. If you can keep it down, I’ll give you a little rice so you feel a bit more sated. I want to take it slow, though. You haven’t had anything substantial in your stomach for the last four days.”

Nodding, I awkwardly picked my spoon up with my left hand, leaned over, and tasted the broth. It may have been simple, but at that moment, it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. The doctor squeezed my shoulder again encouragingly, before withdrawing her hand.

“All right. It seems like you have important things to discuss, which is good, because I have other patients to check up on. Violet, as soon as this meeting is over, you go right back to bed—no ‘buts.’ I’m sure someone will help you back to your room.”

“Damn right I will,” Viggo growled, and I cocked my head at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. He seemed to notice me watching, and raised his eyebrows at me, seeming to brook no argument. Dr. Tierney gave me a knowing smile as she departed, leaving us all alone in an awkward silence.

I frowned, confused by this sudden surge of protectiveness. He had seemed concerned earlier, but there was no need for him to be so… animalistic. What was up with him?

Then I felt stupid. Of course Viggo was worried about me and the fact I was out of bed and trying to be included, in spite of my recent near-death experience. He was acting like an overprotective bear, his foremost desire to shelter and protect me from being hurt again. I probably should’ve been mildly annoyed, but instead, I felt a sort of strange delight in the realization. I was definitely going to have to talk to him about it, but still… it made me feel cherished and safe.

I decided to test my theory. I took another sip of my soup, and then looked at Owen. He’d been strangely quiet since I arrived. “So, Dr. Tierney’s here. Does that mean…”

“That we heroically flew to The Green, managed to convince the Liberators that Desmond is pure evil, and then got them to lend us equipment, their doctor, and a few men? All while you were lazing about and taking a nap?” I smiled at Owen’s joke, fighting back a laugh as he struck a heroic pose and then flipped imaginary hair over his shoulder. It was infectious, and even Amber and Thomas laughed. Viggo shot him an incredulous look, and I let out a soft chuckle at his obvious annoyance.

“That was a mouthful,” I said, “but that’s awesome. How did you manage to convince them?”

Amber’s voice was soft and filled with reverence and a touch of awe as she answered, “We showed them your tape.”

“Oh.” Right. Dr. Tierney had told me that. Once again, I was struck with discomfort, which deepened as I saw the looks of appreciation that seemed to be radiating off of everyone as they looked at me. Even Thomas had a touch of it, which was saying something, because I didn’t think the man was capable of hero worship—besides his admiration of Owen, of course.

I cleared my throat and took another sip of broth, my eyes darting to Viggo. His hands were balled into fists now, and I could see the disapproval in his face. It was evidence, but not very damning. I needed to push harder to confirm my suspicions.

“So,” I asked, “what lies is Elena spinning to contain the mess at the palace? Do you have any ticker tapes I could read later?”

Thomas leaned forward, his chair squeaking slightly as he moved. “Well, the tickers went down after the explosion, and honestly, I don’t think they are coming back.”

I frowned and looked around. “So we’re flying blind?”

“No, not exactly,” replied Owen. “Ms. Dale sent Jeff to the city to try to figure out how Elena is spreading news. She figured if Elena wanted to maintain control over the people, she had to be getting the news out somehow. Otherwise there would’ve been chaos and rioting in the streets, and he said it was actually pretty orderly out there.”

I nodded as I sipped at my soup, but paid careful attention to Viggo. His expression was downright thunderous, and I masked my smile, knowing he was close to detonating. It was what I was waiting for, honestly—if he didn’t, well, then I would know my hypothesis was wrong, and he wasn’t being overprotective of me.