“We think the king will not try magic again,” Penny said.
“We, you mean the demi-fey?” I said.
“I do,” she said.
The little one patted my finger, as I might have patted someone’s shoulder. “We are all sorry that he hurt you, Princess Merry.”
“That is much appreciated,” I said.
The little one flew up higher, her butterfly wings a blur of white as she hovered, but also showing agitation, nerves.
“Tell her, Pansy,” Penny said.
“Many speak in front of us as if we are dogs and can neither understand nor report to others,” Pansy said.
I nodded. “You are some of the best spies in all of faerie because of it.”
She smiled. “The king has decided that it was his magic you found objectionable, and he plans to try to woo you as a regular man might.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It might mean that he would behave for the cameras as nicely as the queen,” Penny said.
“How long have you known this bit of information?” Rhys asked.
“Pansy only heard from her sister recently, and the gossip came up. Her sister did not realize the importance of it, or the use we might make of the information.”
I found the “we” interesting. Penny didn’t mean just demi-fey, but us, her, me, all of us fey living at the estate in Holmby Hills. It was rare for one type of fey to include themselves with others not of their kind. But then I’d accepted any fey who came into exile with us, or were already here in California in an exile older than my own. With a few exceptions, everyone was welcome.
There was a knock at the door, and the guard opened the door and peeked in, saying, “The ambassador is back.”
I sighed, and said, “Send him in.”
Peter Benz walked through the door smiling, his handsome face set in easy lines, his hand already out to shake. His dark blond hair was cut short and neat; his suit was tailored to his five-foot, eight-inch frame so he looked taller, and it showed off that he exercised and ate carefully enough that he was in shape. He was vain enough that he’d paid for his suit to fit, rather than hide his body. The last ambassador had been vain, too, and Taranis had played on that vanity for all he was worth.
I didn’t really want to play that game, but I wanted this ambassador to be one who worked for both courts, not just the Seelie, so I made myself smile and walk toward that extended hand.
His even white teeth spread in a Hollywood-worthy smile. Mr. Benz was an ambassador now, but he had the feel of someone who had much bigger goals for his future. Ambition wasn’t a bad thing; it could make a person very good at his job.
His handshake was firm, but not too firm. He also didn’t have an issue with my hand being small; so many men either engulfed my hand in theirs or barely touched my hand as if afraid they’d crush it.
“Princess Meredith, thank you for seeing me again.”
“Mr. Benz, you are the new ambassador to my people; why wouldn’t I receive you?”
He raised a well-groomed eyebrow at that, but turned with a smile to shake first Galen’s hand and then Rhys’s. The cloud of flying demi-fey he didn’t really look at; he treated them as if they were the insects they resembled. I would have said, How very human, but even among the sidhe, we forgot to count them, or many did.
I glanced at Penny and Pansy as they hovered in the air. They met my look with one of their own; they’d noticed his lack of notice, too. The demi-fey would be wonderful spies on human politicians. To my knowledge no one in faerie was doing that, but it was a thought, a potentially useful one. I filed it away for later, much later. We had a long way to go before spying on human politics was a priority for me.
“I know you must be eager to go home.”
I looked at him. “Define home,” I said.
He smiled again and made a little push-away gesture with his manicured hands. “You’ve made it very clear that Ms. Reed’s mansion is your home for now.”
“While my uncle is confined to faerie, I think I will not be safe there.”
The smile faded. “I am sorrier than I can say about all the problems you and King Taranis are having.”