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him too much.

I realized we were nearing the street where I had come to get my hair and nails done, and gone shopping with Lee—the street consisting entirely of women's shops.

As we passed the hairdresser, Viggo asked me a question of his own. "Do you regret coming to Patrus?"

I was surprised not only that he'd asked a question, but also by the directness of it.

"No," I lied. "I mean, it's been difficult leaving behind my old life and entering one so very new, but I don't regret it. It was the only way I could be with Lee."

He went quiet for a few moments before remarking, "You don't strike me as a girl who'd be happy here long-term. It's pretty easy to spot the ones who'll last and those who won't… For women, curiosity isn't a quality that's rewarded here."

"Yes, I know…"

"Hey, Viggo!" a voice chimed from across the road.

Two men were standing there, wardens in long coats and heavy boots. I found it interesting that, although all wardens in Patrus wore a similar style of clothing, there appeared to be no official uniform. Perhaps they used that to their advantage; they could sneak up on unsuspecting suspects more easily.

The men crossed the street and approached us, their eyes glued to me.

"Who's this?" the blond man asked.

"Mr. Bertrand's new wife," Viggo replied. "I've been appointed as her temporary guardian."

They looked rather confused as to how that could have come about, but they didn't ask further questions. One of them retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Viggo.

"Back gate of the lab's code has changed again. Here it is."

Viggo nodded in appreciation.

Then the men parted ways with us, continuing down the road in the opposite direction.

"So do you roam the streets all day?" I asked. "Don't you get tired?"

"No to both questions," he muttered.

"Then?" I cocked my head to one side.

"In about ten minutes, I have an appointment with the owner of an arms store, one of the largest in the city. There was an attempted break-in yesterday—while the store was closed. Nothing was stolen, but I need to examine the site, as well as discuss precautionary methods to put in place to keep it from happening again."

Attempted break-in at an arms store, earlier yesterday.

I wondered, could that have been Lee? The reason for his delay in picking me up from the gym? He'd seemed pretty tense.

"Is there a lot of theft around here?" I asked.

"No," Viggo replied. "The state's punishments are severe. We're talking about dismembered limbs, or in some cases, hanging."

In Matrus, criminals were treated differently—at least, the women were. If a female committed a serious crime, even so far as murdering someone, she was given a second chance. A thorough period in detention facilities, to see if she was capable of and willing to redeem herself. Matrus' men, on the other hand, were not treated with such leniency. If they murdered or plundered, it was immediate euthanasia. Indeed, from a male's very birth they were subject to close scrutiny. They were regularly monitored in their early years for traits that went against Matrus' culture—a domineering temperament, with a strong inclination toward violence and aggression—and between the ages of eight and ten, they were put through the ultimate test to decide whether they were fit to reside in Matrus. The screening employed a combination of genetics and psychology to determine which boys would be forced to leave Matrus and flown off to the mines in the north.

I didn't know what went on during the tests or how exactly they worked. They were usually conducted in the lab near the queen's palace and the details weren't public knowledge.

All I knew was that my brother had come out shaking, and bearing the mark of a black crescent on his right hand. His virtues had been deemed too close to those of Patrus. And of course, the queen and her council didn't want boys like him piling into Patrus. It wasn't in Matrus' interest to help increase their neighbor's population of strong-willed men.

"There isn't much theft in Matrus, either," I told Viggo. "More serious crimes are also rare… Do you know about its justice system?"

Viggo scowled. "'Justice' hardly seems the right word."

I bit my lip. I couldn't exactly argue with that.

"But yes, I'm aware of the ins and outs," he added. "Euthanasia versus hanging, corrective detention for females, jail for males, pseudoscientific screenings, murdering pre-pubescent boys, etcetera, etcetera."

I stalled, my hand shooting to Viggo's arm. "Murdering?" I breathed, gripping him hard. "Where did you hear that?"

Viggo rolled his eyes. "Come on, what do you think they do with all those boys? You really believe they're carted off to mines? Do you have any idea how large and organized they'd have to be to contain the increasing number of males, year after year?"

He shrugged me off and continued walking. It felt like a steel ball had materialized in the pit of my stomach.

I dragged my feet forward to keep up with him.

"Do you have any evidence?" I choked. "Any evidence at all? Or is it only a suspicion?"

Viggo was eyeing me curiously now, apparently not prepared for or expecting such a strong reaction from me. "It's a suspicion," he admitted. "Of course, I have never traveled to the Deep North to verify whether the boys are actually there. I don't have access to an illegal aircraft, nor would I have reason or permission to fly there in a legal one."

I let out a breath. I'd truly feared for a moment that Viggo might have evidence. But that would make no sense. Queen Rina had promised me a reunion with my brother. Would she really have lied about that? I didn't want to consider that question. I couldn't start thinking that my brother might be dead. Not after my hopes had been raised sky-high about seeing him again in a matter of weeks. He was alive, in the mines in the North. Just as the queen and the Court

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