Page 4 of Devotion

“I don’t care.” He rubs his mouth and chin with one hand and glances over at the desk. “You can do whatever you’d like. I’ve got a ton of work to do, so I need to get started on it.”

I return to my window nook and settle myself comfortably. I watch him as he goes over to his desk, glancing back towardme a couple of times as if my presence is distracting him. He must overcome it, however, because he starts reading through a large sheaf of papers, occasionally making notes to himself in a notebook. After a while he appears to forget I’m even in the room.

I’ve had dreams about being a partner for years, and I’ll be the first to admit some of my dreams were likely unrealistic.

But never would I have imagined spending my first day as a partner bored out of my mind.

2

Gabriel workswithout stopping until dinnertime. When the door opens after a brief knock, he glances up, blinking a few times as if it takes effort to orient himself to the time and place.

He looks over at my window alcove, his eyes widening when he sees I’m still lounging there.

Where the hell else would I be?

I smile at Nico, a young man on the kitchen staff who sets a tray and a pitcher on the table. He gives me a covert wink as he leaves, and I’m hit by a wave of pride.

Even with an uncooperative partner, I was chosen. It means something. It will change my entire life.

After a few minutes, Gabriel glances up from his papers. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yes. I am.”

He waves toward the food on the table.

I work my bottom lip with my teeth, trying not to look or sound frustrated. “I’m not allowed to eat unless you feed me.”

His body twitches slightly. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not allowed?—”

“For fuck’s sake. You have permission to eat. Help yourself. Take whatever you’d like.” I’ve gotten up from my seat when he adds, “If there’s anything else you require my permission for, you need to come right out and tell me. I’m not going to know, so I’ll be sitting here like a clueless fool while you starve to death.”

I pause a few feet from his desk. “Oh. The bathroom…”

“You need permission to…”

“Yes.”

“You have permission. Anytime you need to go.”

“Do you want me to use your private bathroom?”

His mouth drops open briefly. “Where else would you go?”

“There’s a public bathroom downstairs I could?—”

“You’ve got to be kidding. Do people really make their partners go halfway across the palace to go to the bathroom?”

“Yes.” I suddenly feel better about him. Surely he’s not a bad man at heart if he’s so dumbfounded that other people could be selfish or rude. A stray flicker of the sense of humor that Barrett has always told me to be careful about comes to life, and I can’t resist adding, “Of course, a few have requisitioned a pot.”

“A pot.”

I drop my eyes so he won’t see the silent laughter in them, but I can’t keep my mouth from twitching slightly. “Yes. It’s not common, but it’s occasionally done.”

He makes a weird huff of sound, and when I check his face, I see dry amusement there. “Are you giving me a hard time on purpose?”

“Not at all. Sadly, I’m telling you the truth. Not all administrators have been what I’d consider decent people.” When I see a different expression on his face, I add in a rush, “Abuse is not allowed. If an administrator abuses their partner, they lose the privilege of having one at all.”

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