“Your opinion has been duly noted,” I said dryly. “About eight hundred times over.”

“You don’t want Azazel to find out about Gabriel, but you’ve called the one angel who is likely to run straight to him and report? Did Samiel beat all of your brains out of you?”

“I’ve got to find some way to heal or else I’m not going to be able to find Gabriel, or negotiate with the faeries, or anything else,” I said patiently. “Nathaniel is the only angel I can ask.”

“But you can’t trust him,” Beezle said. “He only wants to marry you because you’re Azazel’s daughter. He’s not really a fiancé.”

“Actually, I think it’s more that I’m Lucifer’s granddaughter.” I shook my head. “But maybe I need to start treating him as an actual betrothed.”

Beezle’s mouth dropped open. “Are you telling me that you are giving in to Azazel’s will and accepting the marriage?”

It rankled when Beezle put it like that. “No. I most certainly am not. But maybe if I treat Nathaniel decently, he will do the same.”

Beezle rolled his eyes. “Remember what I was saying earlier about naïveté?”

“I have to try, Beezle,” I said. “And stop fussing with the pillows. I’m fine.”

“Fine,” Beezle said darkly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He flapped to the front window without another word and disappeared out to his perch.

I rested my head back against the pillows and closed my eyes. Beezle was wrong. I wasn’t naïve. I knew exactly the risk that I took in asking for Nathaniel’s help. I also knew that I would never find Gabriel in this condition, and that I couldn’t afford to wait weeks to heal.

I must have fallen asleep for a while. When I opened my eyes, Nathaniel was kneeling beside me, his hand holding mine. There was an expression on his face that I couldn’t define. I realized that my blood was burning hot, and I touched my face. The swelling was gone, the pain disappeared. He had healed me while I slept.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, feeling remarkably hale and whole. My tongue touched the place where my teeth had been loosened by Samiel’s punches and found them solidly implanted in the gum. Thank goodness. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life looking like a hockey player or a hillbilly.

“Thank you,” I said, and I said it without begrudging Nathaniel his existence, the way that I usually did. I didn’t know how I would have survived for this long in the angelic world without healing. The injuries that I had incurred from Ramuell alone would have killed me or crippled me for life if it had not been for Gabriel’s abilities.

“Such a fragile thing,” Nathaniel said softly, and it was like he could hear my thoughts. “That little strain of mortality. Small things hurt you so.”

He rubbed my fingers gently as he talked. I fought the urge to pull away, the feeling that I was somehow being disloyal to Gabriel by letting Nathaniel touch me. I needed him on my side, and it wouldn’t do to get his hackles up by acting like he had an infectious disease.

Nathaniel turned my hand over in his, touching the places where my hands were rough or dry from work. “The hands of a servant, not a princess.”

This time I did pull my hand away, insulted. “I’m not the kind to fool around with manicures. And I don’t have servants to do my dishwashing and bathroom scrubbing.”

He folded his hand in his lap. “But you do not have to. You could live with Azazel in his palace. You could give up this life.”

“And give up who I am, too,” I replied fiercely. “I am not a toy for Azazel to play with.”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at me. “Is that what you believe? That your father treats you like a toy?”

“I don’t believe that my wishes are paramount in his view,” I replied, trying to calm down.

This was not how I had intended to go on with him. I’d wanted to present my case simply, to get him to agree to a trade. If I lost my temper or made him lose his, then we would never get anywhere. Luckily, he had already healed me without my asking, so that was one thing I would not have to bargain over.

“Let’s not talk about Azazel,” I said firmly, swinging my legs to the floor and forcing him to back away. I indicated that we should both sit in the dining room. I wanted to be eye level with him, not lying prone with Nathaniel looming over me.

“No, let us discuss your injuries,” he said as he followed me into the next room and sat down across from me. “How is it that you are so horribly injured and the thrall has not healed you?”

“His name is Gabriel,” I said through my teeth. “Why do you always talk about him as if he were slime on your shoes?”

“And why do you always behave as though he were something more than that?” Nathaniel said. His voice was calm and reasonable but his blue eyes lit with anger. “You treat him as if he were your equal.”

“Because he is. And you don’t exactly endear yourself to me by acting like a prince.”

Nathaniel smoothed the cuffs of his perfectly white shirt with his perfectly buffed fingernails before responding. He wore a trim-cut black suit, no tie, and his blond hair looked like it had been professionally coiffed. His glittering white wings were tucked neatly behind him, not a feather out of place. The overall effect was one of golden beauty, but that beauty was cold. And his natty dressing habits only made me feel worse about my lack thereof, particularly when I was wearing nothing but a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants. I could not see myself waking up next to this flawless creature every morning for the rest of my life. Did anything rumple him?