Free A Shiver of Light by Laurell K. Hamilton Page B

be damned,” Rhys said.
    “Penny is right, isn’t she?” Galen asked.
    I nodded. “I think she is.”
    “The king also has never lost control in front of the media.”
    “He attacked our human lawyers and us once before he kidnapped me,” I said.
    “But there was no media to record it, Princess Merry. It is still a matter of witnesses, but no video or pictures.”
    “I think that the king was honestly insane during that attack,” Rhys said. “His guard had to physically jump him, bury him under their bodies to keep him from continuing the attack.”
    I shivered and cuddled into Rhys. Taranis had almost killed Doyle in that attack, and my Darkness was not an easy kill.
    “If that is true, then a television show may not protect us from the king.”
    One of the other demi-fey flew upward on tiny white wings with little black spots on them. She was even tinier than Penny’s Barbie doll size, as if she were trying harder to ape the butterfly she resembled. It was a Cabbage White, an American butterfly, which meant she’d likely been born here.
    Her voice was high and musical, as if a trilling bird’s song could be words. “My sister is still in the Seelie Court. She told me that the king was enraged that you had slipped his seduction magic. He’d never had a woman except for the queen of the Unseelie Court escape from his spells.”
    “Which is why he came for me later,” I said, softly.
    The little faerie flew closer and laid a hand no bigger than the nail of my little finger on my hand. “But even then his magic did not work; he had to hit you with brute force like any human. He knows now that his magic does not work on you.”
    “Did your sister hear him say that?” Rhys asked.
    She nodded so hard that her pale blond curls bobbed.
    “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