William stared after the country raised boy with a mixture of distrust and longing. He wanted to follow in Angel's footsteps, craved the company and warmth offered like nothing ever before. But he stopped himself. At least for a little while. Would eating downstairs really be so bad? He didn't know, couldn't know. He'd never even set foot in a cafeteria before. William settled down on his bed, started reading through Hamlet again.

By the time he felt well enough to step out of the room and brave downstairs, he had finished the script. The wide stairs were beautiful, but William only noted how much they cost. He always mentally priced everything he saw, silently judging the antiques lining the hall, the paintings and lights. When William stepped into the crowded dining room, all of that flew out the window.

There were so many people. It felt like their eyes were boring into him every time their heads twisted his way. William cringed internally. On the outside he was calm, cool, and collected as he walked to a bench set right behind a pillar. Out of sight, his shoulders relaxed slightly.