A Lick of Frost(62)

"Serviced them?" I made it a question.

"I believe in pornography I would be what is termed a fluffer. They do everything together, do the brothers. I helped keep one ready while the other finished."

He said it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. There was no condemnation, no anger, nothing. It was the way of his world once. The only world he'd known until his king gave him to me. I tried very hard to give Kitto choices in his new life, but I had to be careful, because too many choices made him anxious. His entire world had literally changed. He had never seen electricity or a television. He was now living on the estate of one of Hollywood's leading actresses, though he'd never seen a single one of her movies. He was much more impressed that she had once been the goddess Conchenn—a secret that Hollywood did not know.

"I will be with you tonight, Merry. I will help you."

"I can't ask you…"

He put his fingers against my lips. "You do not have to ask. None of your other men will know goblin culture as I do. I do not say that I could protect you from them, but I can keep you from falling into traps of custom."

I kissed his fingers and moved his hand away from my mouth so I could lay another kiss against the palm of his hand. I wanted to say, "I can't let you because they abused you," but he didn't see it that way. To tell him it was abuse when he didn't think it was seemed wrong. It was his culture, not mine. Who was I to throw stones after what I'd seen in Andais's bed today? Poor Crystall.

There was a soft knock on the door. I sighed, and snuggled deeper into the pillows. I did not want to deal with another crisis today. I had one all nice and scheduled for later tonight when the goblin twins arrived.

Kitto leaned over and whispered against my hair, "You are princess. You can tell them to go away."

"I can't tell them to go away until I know what they want." I called out, "Who is it?"

"It's Rhys."

Kitto and I exchanged a look. He widened his eyes, his version of a shrug. He was right. It would have to be something important for Rhys to willingly see me in bed with a goblin, any goblin. He even liked Kitto, or at least had sat up late with him introducing him to marathon film noir movie sessions. He'd gone along with Galen when the two of them took Kitto shopping for modern clothes. But Rhys always left if it got physical with Kitto.

Whatever would bring Rhys willingly into this room had to be important. Important today meant bad. Shit. Out loud I said, "Come in."

Kitto started to move away from me as if he were going to leave, but I grabbed his arm and kept him propped on his elbow above me. "This is your room. You don't leave."

Kitto looked doubtful but he stayed where I wanted him. He was good that way. He followed orders beautifully, which was more than I could say for most of the other men.

Rhys walked in, closing the door quietly behind him. I studied his face, and he looked peaceful enough. "Doyle is a very stubborn man even for a sidhe."

"You're just figuring that out?" I asked.

Rhys grinned. "Fair enough. I knew it already."

"He still won't let Merry sit by his side?" Kitto asked. He looked perfectly at ease beside me now, as if he had never considered moving away.

Rhys moved farther into the room as he spoke. "He says, "I am to protect her, not she me." He further says that you need your rest for tonight, not to sit and worry over him."

"I would have cuddled him while we both slept," I said.

"His loss, our gain," Rhys said, grinning again. He took off his jacket.

"Our gain," Kitto said, a lilt of surprise in his voice.

Rhys paused, jacket in one hand. His shoulder holster was very stark against the pale blue of his shirt. Though shoulder holster implied that it was just for guns and that wasn't true at all. All the men who had been with me for a few months had custom rigs made, I suspect by one of the leather workers inside faerie. No human could have made them so quickly and so perfectly. There were also intricate designs worked into the leather, and nearly ingenious ways to carry as many weapons as possible and still be able to slip modern jackets over them all.

Rhys stood there with a gun under one arm and a knife on the other. A second gun rode at his waist. There was also a short sword belted somehow across his back so that the hilt stuck a little out from behind his back on one side. He could grab it sort of like a gun worn at the small of the back.

"I touched you in the lawyer's office, and didn't feel all the weapons," I said. "There's a spell that affects sight and touch."

"If you didn't pick up on it, then it's as good as promised," Rhys replied.

"Why did I see the swords at Frost and Doyle's back?"