Ángel wasn’t sorry about what he’d done, but he was suddenly worried about Oberon’s anger. What his punishment would be for disobeying Oberon and destroying DOR property.

He washed his hands, dried them, and went slowly down to the kitchen, his stomach heavy with dread.

He wasn’t as afraid of Oberon as he’d been at first. The envoy’s calm demeanor, his palpable air of restraint, and even his knowledge of music had reassured him. The adrenaline-fueled terror of the first day had largely dissipated, replaced by caution. Illogical attraction, maybe.

But he’d never openly challenged Oberon before. He’d never seen Oberon really angry. What would he do?

Stop being such a fucking coward, he told himself, bracingly. The cameras were just wrong, an intolerable violation. There was one in the bathroom, for God’s sake. Ángel had a right to take a shower without being spied upon; the fact that Oberon genuinely didn’t seem to understand why didn’t change that.

Ángel went into the kitchen. Oberon was there at the island counter. Lily, who seemed to know something was up, was dishing up black bean soup. She cast him a huge-eyed glance that seemed full of worry. After putting a bowl of soup at his place, she retreated, putting on her coat and slipping out, back to the gatehouse.

Ángel stood waiting, braced for battle.

“Ángel.”

Oberon’s face was as expressionless as usual. His voice vibrated hotly, but Ángel didn’t know what that meant. Was he angry? Upset? Maybe even kind of . . . ill? His gleaming pale skin had faded to a dull beige.

“Hi,” said Ángel, and sat beside him.

“You disabled the cameras in your room.”

Taking his courage in his hands, he said, “I destroyed them. Yes. And the bathroom too.”

Oberon stirred his soup, not eating. Ángel brought a spoonful to his mouth, but he could barely swallow, his stomach was so knotted.

“And if you put them back, I’ll leave,” he added. “I can climb the wall if you shut the gates. I can walk to town.” In the snow? he thought, but didn’t say it. “You would have to hold me here by force if you put the cameras back.”

Oberon said, “Forgive me. I find that I’m not very hungry,” put down his spoon, and got up to walk away.

As he was leaving the room, Ángel nerved himself. “Oberon.”

The envoy turned his head.

Ángel said, quietly, “Please try to understand.” Had he hurt Oberon’s feelings? Sorry seemed like a stupid thing to say. “I couldn’t bear it, Oberon.”

After a pause, Oberon said, “Very well, Ángel.” The blankness of his voice, coupled with the unreadability of his expression, was unnerving. “Do you think you will be happier now?”

“I don’t know,” said Ángel. “Did I get them all?”

“You got them all,” said Oberon, and left the room.

Chapter 11