[Merry Gentry 04] - A Stroke of Midnight Read Online Free Page B

but giggle like junior high school kids. The American reporters, and some of the European, had never quite gotten used to the fact that the fey, as a whole, don’t see sex as bad. So admitting to sex with someone, unless it makes your lover uncomfortable, isn’t bad, or scandalous.
    â€œWas Rhys with you?”
    â€œYes.” Technically, Rhys had been beside the bed, not in it, but Nicca didn’t see a reason to quibble.
    â€œWas anyone else in the bed with you and the princess when it happened?”
    â€œYes.” That was Nicca, and very sidhe. You either distracted with a story that had nothing to do with what was asked, or you answered exactly what was asked, and absolutely nothing else. Nicca wasn’t good at stories, so he stuck to truth.
    â€œWho?” someone yelled.
    Nicca glanced at me, and he shouldn’t have. The glance was enough to let the reporters know that he wasn’t sure I wanted him to tell the name. Shit. Most sidhe women do not like admitting that they’ve fucked a lesser fey, but I wasn’t ashamed. The reporters would make more of that one glance than there was to make. Damn.
    The trouble was that Sage wasn’t on the stage. He wasn’t sidhe, and his own queen had demanded him at her side. Besides, our queen didn’t want him onstage with me. In Andais’s own words, “Oral sex, fine, but he doesn’t get to fuck you. No demi-fey, no matter how tall, is sitting on my throne as anyone’s king.” So Sage got to stay out of sight. Which made this moment even more interesting.
    â€œThe other third, or would that be fourth,” I said with a smile, “isn’t onstage today. He’s not certain he wants the media attention.”
    â€œIs he going to be one of your lovers, and potential kings?”
    â€œNo.” Which was the truth.
    â€œWhy not?” someone else shouted out. I wouldn’t have answered it, but Nicca did. “He’s not sidhe.”
    Oh, hell. That started another frenzy of shouted questions. I leaned into Nicca and asked him to go back to his piece of wall on the dais. Rhys went back to his section on the edge where he could watch the crowd. He was trying not to laugh. I guess it might as well be funny. But Nicca had to stay away from the mike from now on. I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d done with Sage, but I wasn’t sure how much of it my aunt wanted me to explain to the media. She did seem embarrassed about it.
    Madeline finally found a question that she thought I would be able and willing to answer. She was wrong. “Which of them is the best in bed, Meredith?”
    I fought not to glance at Madeline. What was she doing taking that question? She knew better. “Look at them all. How could anyone choose just one?”
    Laughter, but they didn’t let it go. “You seemed to have a preference for Frost earlier, Princess.”
    It wasn’t a question so I didn’t answer it. Another reporter asked, “Fair enough, Princess, but if not just one, who are your multiple favorites?”
    That was trickier. “Everyone that I’ve had sex with is special to me in their own way.” Truth.
    â€œHow many have you had sex with?”
    I leaned into the mike. “Gentlemen, if you would just take a step or two forward.”
    Rhys, Nicca, Doyle, and Frost moved forward. Only three extra men stepped away from the wall. Galen’s skin was almost as white as my own, but in the right light there was an undercast of green to that paleness. His curls were green in any light, except in the dark, where they looked blond. He had cut his own hair just above his shoulders, leaving only one thin braid to remind me that once it fell to his ankles. Of the men of faerie, only the sidhe were allowed to grow their hair long. Galen had cut his hair voluntarily, unlike Adair. Or Amatheon, who stood next to him. Amatheon’s rich red hair had been French-braided so that