Page 7 of Devotion

“Of course I have it in me. I’m a human being just like you. But I’m trying to do a good job in my role as your partner, and getting angry is counterproductive.”

For some reason his mouth softens. Twitches up just slightly. “Yes. I guess it would. Sorry I snapped at you. I find this entire partner business ridiculous, but I know that’s not your fault, so I shouldn’t take it out on you. Look, we don’t know each other at all, so this is weird and awkward. But I like to work. I like to get things done. And I don’t have much patience for trivial distractions that get in the way of that. I’m also not some sort of heartless monster—I don’t want you miserable or bored out of your mind. So you can ask for anything that might make this situation easier for either one of us. In fact, I’d appreciate if you’d make any suggestion you can think of.”

“All right.” My anger fades as quickly as it rose. I feel better getting things out in the open. “I understand. My role is to wait for you to initiate, but that’s clearly not what you want, so I’ll try to be more direct. If you’d like me to knit or draw, I’ll need a few credits from you to buy supplies. My weekly earnings all go back to my family. A partner’s spending money has to be given by you. Just like everything else.”

“Okay. I’m starting to get it.” He shakes his head as he opens the top drawer of his desk and pulls out his credit pad. “You’ll need some for books too, right?”

“I don’t need to buy books. If you’ll write out permission, I can borrow books from the palace library to read.”

“Got it.” He scrawls out something on the top page of the credit pad, tears it off, scrawls out something else on the next page, and then tears that one off too. He hands both to me.

The first one is library permission. The second is fifty credits.

“This is way too much,” I say, staring back up at him. “I don’t need nearly this much.”

“Just buy whatever you want with it. They’re paying me a ridiculous amount, and since I don’t do anything but work, I’ll barely be spending it. I can’t even save it from month to month because for some reason they don’t let credits accumulate here.You’re the one who has to put up with me. You might as well get something out of it.” His mouth twitches up again very briefly.

I can’t help but giggle at his wry look and tone. Then he waves me off so he can get back to work, and I head out of the room to do some shopping.

My third dayas Gabriel’s partner is a Saturday, so I get to visit my family. Things are better now because at least I have something to do to pass the time. I read, draw, or knit, depending on my mood, and Gabriel appears much less annoyed and distracted since I’m no longer sitting and staring at him all the time.

If I hoped he’d gradually begin to see the benefits of having me at his disposal, those hopes are unfounded. He does nothing but swim, work, and sleep with the occasional break to eat or go to the bathroom.

I’ve never met anyone so focused. Surely it can’t be good for him.

If anyone needs a partner to soften his life, it’s Gabriel, but he’s not going to allow it.

At least he hasn’t yet.

The day passes quickly since I found a good book in the library—a story from the old world about an amateur sleuth solving mysteries—and it’s late afternoon before I know it.

I change into my street shoes and go to the bathroom to smooth down my hair before I leave.

Gabriel is working of course. He didn’t even notice me getting ready.

So I clear my throat and say, “Okay. I’m leaving.”

He frowns up at me foggily. “You’re leaving?”

“It’s my evening off. I’m going to visit my family. I’ll be gone four hours.”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course. Have a good time.” He shifts his eyes back to the big, complicated chart he’s been studying all afternoon.

I’m on my way out when he straightens up. “Oh, do you need credits?”

I turn back, confused and surprised. “For what?”

“For treats for your family or whatever? Didn’t you say you wanted to bring them something when you visit?”

He must be referring to the explanation I gave him for becoming a partner back on selection day. I certainly haven’t mentioned treats for my family in any other context. “Oh, I see. No, that’s not necessary.”

“You don’t want to bring them anything?”

“It’s not that. It’s just that extras are supposed to be gifts for partners who have… who have done a good job. Pleased you. I haven’t done anything at all, and you’ve already been generous with me.”

He’s frowning and shaking his head as he pulls out his credit pad. “I told you before. I don’t have anything to do with all these credits. You might as well get some use out of them.” He scrawls something, tears out the sheet, and hands it to me. “Besides, youhavedone a good job. I wanted you to stay out of my way and not distract me, and you’ve done that.”

I snicker softly at his words. I’d much rather be able to do what I’m here for, but at least he’s not holding his own choices against me. Then I get a look at the amount he wrote on the credit sheet and gape. “This is way too much!”

---