He came to me then, took my hand in his, and smiled down at me, his green eyes filling with that warmth they’d always held. “You look sad, my Merry. I would do anything to chase that look from your eyes.”
How could I tell him that it was his new resolution that made me sad? I couldn’t; we were all being changed by the events of the last year. We were parents now, and that would change us more.
“Kiss me, my green knight, and it will wipe the sadness from my eyes.”
I was rewarded with that brilliant smile of his, the one that had been making my heart skip a beat since I was fourteen, and then he leaned over, bending that six feet of muscle down to lay his mouth upon mine. The kiss was chaste by our standards, but the ambassador finally cleared his throat.
I had to break away from the kiss and explain, “Throat clearing is a human way of expressing awkwardness, or impatience with something sexual, or romantic.”
Galen glanced at the ambassador. “That wasn’t sexual by court standards, not by Unseelie standards anyway.”
“I’ve been told that sexuality is freer among the sidhe,” he said.
“If you try the throat-clearing routine with my aunt, the queen, either it will prompt her to say something scathing, or she will be more vigorous at whatever is bothering you.”
“It was not the kiss, but the fact that I think you are changing the subject from the princess having extra security from our government, that made me want to interrupt. I think of myself as fairly bohemian.”
“Bohemian,” Rhys said, “that’s not a term I’ve heard in a while.”
Benz looked at him, and there was intelligence in all the charm, which was good; he’d need it. “Is it the wrong word to use?”
“No, but to thrive at the Unseelie Court, you’ll need to be a little bit more than bohemian.”
“What would you suggest?”
“Profligate, perverse, but perhaps not.” Rhys looked at Galen and me.
“You’ve thought of something,” Galen said.
“I was just thinking that the queen never allows the human media to see her at her most flagrant. I was wondering if a human ambassador to our court might have a … calming effect.” His eye was full of humor at the very mildness of his word choice. If Queen Andais had to behave for human sensibilities, then torture as dinner entertainment might be over. It was always mild torture, by her standards, and it wasn’t common, but her love of true torture might have to be more controlled if Benz was visiting our court—if she could control herself and hadn’t gone so far into her own madness that nothing would help her regain herself. That was actually the question that stood in the way of her visiting the babies. Was she truly mad or just aiming her grief at her own court because she could? If she had to find other outlets for her grief, I wondered if I could talk her into grief counseling. She’d gone to human fertility specialists; maybe she’d do therapy.
Rhys came to join Galen, adding his arms to the other man’s so he had an arm around both my waist and Galen’s. “Now it’s you who’ve thought of something interesting, our Merry.”
I nodded. “We’ll discuss it later.”
“When I’m not here to listen in,” Benz said.
I glanced at him. “Yes,” I said.
He laughed then, and said, “You know that most humans would have denied it, just to be polite.”
“It’s too close to a lie, and a lie that you would know was one. Why should I bother?”
“Ah, Princess Meredith, I think I am going find being ambassador to you a very interesting, even educational, experience.”
“Which means it could be good, or bad,” I said.
He nodded. “I don’t know which it will be myself, yet.”
“Be careful, Ambassador Benz,” Rhys said, “or we’ll make you too honest to be a diplomat out among the humans.”
He looked surprised then, before he could stop himself, and then he laughed out loud, head back. It was the most unprotected and real expression I’d seen from him.
“Oh, Lord Rhys, a diplomat who cannot lie would be useless indeed out among the humans, but for a time I think a little brutal honesty might be a nice change. Now, about adding some diplomatic security agents to the princess’s detail …”
We let him talk, and I hoped that the “brutal honesty” wouldn’t be too brutal on Ambassador Peter Benz, or on us, for that matter. I couldn’t trust my aunt, Queen Andais, to be safe and sane around our babies, but I also wasn’t entirely sure we could keep telling her no. How do you tell someone who has been the ultimate power of life and death for more than two thousand years that she can’t come visit her great-nieces and nephew? That was always the trouble with dealing with the immortal; they were so used to getting their way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DETECTIVE LUCY TATE was tall, dark haired, and dressed in the female version of the plainclothes detective pantsuit, black with a white dress shirt this time. It seemed only color varied for the detectives of the homicide bureau. When Lucy had first come through the door I’d thought she had a murder she wanted a fey perspective on, but she’d had a trio of small teddy bears in her hands, and I was pretty certain that made it a friendly visit, not business. I’d been half right.
“Merry, it’s reasonable for the local police to be worried that Maeve Reed’s estate isn’t safe. The bastard kidnapped you from there.”