Page 49 of Devotion

He smiles at me, an odd expression on his face. Half amused and half tender. “You’re welcome.”

I go to the bathroom to catch my breath and wash my hands and face. Then I return to my window seat to keep knitting.

For some reason I end up not knitting anymore. I admire my locket for a while since Gabriel is completely focused on work. Then I’m feeling so good all over that I take a nap instead.

13

For the next two months,nearly every day, Gabriel gets up a half hour earlier than he used to. He swims for only ninety minutes and comes back in time for us to have a long morning session in bed. Then he’ll doze until he has to go to his first meeting or start working. In the middle of the afternoon, he usually takes a short break so I can do him again.

It’s a lot. Far more than I ever dared to dream of him allowing.

He’s not young anymore, and it’s impressive virility for a forty-year-old man. I still believe he’s so physically needy now because he lived so many years working his body hard but never indulging it in any way.

Whatever the reason, I’ve never been so happy as in these two months. My father is thriving in his new job. Gabriel is finally allowing me to fulfill my purpose as his partner. He’s even talking to me more. He’ll never be an easy or open man, but when I ask him questions—during the massage and even at other times—he usually answers them. He’s still as generous with his credits as he was at the beginning, and he’s making good progress on his project even with the extra time he’s taking offfor me to tend to him. And after every session he checks to see if I’m aroused, and if I am, he gets me off with his hand.

I’ve been existing in a giddy dreamworld for weeks, always expecting something to happen to bring me crashing down to earth. But nothing has crashed down yet.

On my 140th day as Gabriel’s partner, he tells me he needs to do an inspection of one of the laborer’s neighborhoods in the city and invites me to come with him.

I say yes, of course. I’m happy for any break in the steady sameness of my days.

I’m excited as we requisition a palace motor and drive out of the palace grounds and toward the south side of the city. My parents don’t live too far from here, so it’s familiar to me, but Gabriel has obviously never been here before.

The residence buildings are all constructed with a similar plain, square architecture. They’re all at least six stories, but none of them are higher than ten. No building in the Capital can be taller than the main wings of the palace, which are all twelve stories. The administrative tower, with the president’s office at the very top, is twenty.

Gabriel tells me he’s working on a section of his plan that includes recommendations for housing, and that’s why he wants to make this tour. We park the motor and get out to walk. He asks me a lot of questions, and I enjoy both the conversation and the unexpected outing.

I occasionally see people I know, and I can’t control the wave of pride that washes over me every time. I’m not only proud of myself for having advanced so far as becoming a palace partner. I’m also proud ofhim. Of Gabriel.

For being who he is.

We’ve started back toward our motor when some unexpected shouting breaks out farther down the block. It’s the area office for employment and remuneration.

Gabriel stops, drawing me to the opposite side of him as he peers toward the commotion.

“What is it?” I ask. There seems to be a lot of people out in front of the office, but I can’t tell what’s going on. It looks like a loud, disorganized crowd.

“I don’t know. But let’s get away from it quickly.” He takes my hand and starts walking again, his steps so long and fast I have to jog to keep up.

I don’t object or complain. The sounds of shouting and activity are getting louder. They’re scaring me.

One thing that has always been true about the Capital is that its streets are clean and orderly and quiet and safe. Whatever is happening down there is not normal.

At all.

We’ve gotten past the corner with the crowd when suddenly chaos explodes. There are gunshots. So loud and inexplicable they make me jump. Then there are people everywhere, spilling out into the street. Spreading onto the sidewalk where we’ve been walking. Overwhelming us.

The crowd isn’t only loud. It’s angry. People start smashing lights on the lampposts lining the street and flipping small bikes and motors.

Gabriel gets a better grip on me and starts to run.

“What is happening?” I ask him breathlessly, trying my best to keep stride with him.

“It’s a riot. I have no idea what it’s about.”

“A riot? But there aren’t any riots in—” I stop the silly objection before I complete it. I’ve never known there to be a riot in the Capital before, but there’s no other word to describe what’s happening right now.

We’re moving so fast I’m hopeful we’ll get out of the area before anyone notices us, but I’m wrong. At the end of the sidewalk, we’re stopped by two big, rough-looking men.Normally, I wouldn’t be nervous around them. They’re laborers. Like my dad and grandfather. They work with their hands and support their families and do the best they can in the class they were born into. But both of them look violent and furious right now, and both Gabriel and I clearly belong to the palace.

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