"My hands are not injured."
"Would you prefer that I let you have to feed yourself?" Penelope asked, pulling the spoon back from Tyrion’s mouth. "I am more than happy to let you fend for yourself. Do you want to do that, Tyrion? Do you?"’
"No," Tyrion replied, wanting to keep the peace.
On any other day, Tyrion would bask in the fact that Penelope was feeding him, but Penelope was overworking herself.
Penelope ca to him early in the morning, helped with his bath, dressed him, and now she was feeding him.
"You must rest," Tyrion said, but he knew his advice would fall on deaf ears.
"I will rest when my husband is well. I miss the tis you held . I have taken them for granted. Will you please get better so I can have those monts again?" Penelope asked, using Tyrion’s interest against him.
"This is the first ti soone has used this thod on to get better. It is working," Tyrion confessed.
"Good. You must rember that you have a reward to claim. The carriage is ready and so am I, but it is my husband we are waiting for."
Tyrion held Penelope’s hand, needing the torture to end. "First, you do not sleep here, and then you remind of what I have been looking forward to. Must you be so cruel?"
"Cruel? Cruel would be hitting your shoulder. What I am doing is fairly punishing you. I am no longer upset. Truly," Penelope said, but her words didn’t match her face. "You did what you needed to protect . To protect my na. I am grateful."
Penelope imagined what would be said if it ever got out that a brothel owner made a deal with her cousin to have her. It was embarrassing and very insulting for a lady.
Penelope was still at odds with many of her peers, so she knew they would take delight in this awful mont.
"It only bothers that you were wounded when trying to protect my na. I feel like I need to-"
"Don’t," Tyrion stopped Penelope in her tracks. "I don’t want to hear it. You didn’t have any part in it."
"I know, but still. I have been doing my best not to make the sa mistakes I made before we were married, but there is always sothing waiting to trip up. I’ve been sending away anyone who cos close to speaking of a deserter," said Penelope.
Penelope took a deep breath and then said, "I suspect it might be Tabitha. I could be wrong, but who wants you back in the palace more than your grandmother? I am waiting for proof."
"Proof?" Tyrion replied, hearing of this for the first ti. "How are you getting proof?"
"I sent Brendon to see if Tabitha is where she was sent. I was going to tell you, but then all of this happened. I wouldn’t have kept it from you for much longer," Penelope promised.
"You must tell of your plans before you send soone anywhere," said Tyrion. It was dangerous for Penelope to send Brendon alone.
"And you could do the sa. You didn’t inform that you were going to kill anyone over the debt. That is why your wound hurt even more."
"I didn’t want to speak of the plans they made for you. I believe so things are better off not heard. I won’t tell you things that will keep you up at night. I’ll kill everyone who knows of it if it ans you can be at ease," said Tyrion.
"I understand, but still, you could at least tell where you were going. Tell that it is sothing I shouldn’t know, but don’t hide where you are going. We’re going to get better at this in ti," Penelope said, confident.
Penelope chuckled, an old mory coming to mind. "I think we were better with marriage when we used to pretend as children."
"I disagree. Our marriage in the past was short-lived since Elijah always interrupted the ga. We’re far better now," Tyrion replied.
"I shall take your word for it. You must eat the last of the soup. Winston said that it will provide you with all you need to gather your strength," Penelope said, offering Tyrion a sip of the soup.
"Did Winston make it himself? It doesn’t co close in taste to the other dishes our cooks have prepared for us in the past," Tyrion said, dodging the spoon as best as he could. "Are you trying to torture with Winston’s food?"
"No, the cooks made it. It is ant to heal you, so the taste doesn’t matter," Penelope said, aiming the spoon for Tyrion’s mouth. "You mustn’t let it spill.’
"I will be kind and let you have a taste so you may have the strength to care for ," Tyrion offered.
"Nice try, but this is not going anywhere near my mouth. It is all for you. Who is it now?" Penelope muttered, annoyed that she was disturbed. "Do not smile since I will return to feed you the last of it."
Tyrion smiled, hiding his intentions to accidentally spill the last of the so-called soup.
"You may enter," Penelope called to the visitor. She stood ready to take care of the matter.
Matilda entered with Damien in view behind her.
"Milady, the butler sent to inform you of the town guards at the gates. They wish to speak to the prince," Matilda passed on the ssage.
Penelope looked at Tyrion, already knowing what the guards ca for. A visit from the town guards was expected after Tyrion went to kill a brothel owner and set the business on fire.
"Send them away," Tyrion ordered Matilda.
"No," Penelope spoke up before Matilda could move. "Allow them in. I will address them while you stay in bed. If we send them away, they will co again and bother us until they get to your side. It’s best to deal with this now."
Penelope had learned from her father not to let a matter grow, as it would reach a point where it could get out of control. This was sothing Penelope didn’t want to grow for the court to be involved.
"Then," Tyrion said, starting to sit up. "Let get dressed."
"You are not going anywhere. I already told you that I shall address our guests, and that includes the town guards. Damien will be at my side, and I will send Matilda if I am in need of your help. Trust ," Penelope said, waiting for Tyrion to agree with her.
"Very well," Tyrion gave in. "You must send for as soon as it gets out of hand."
"If it gets out of hand, you’ll have a dungeon filled with town guards," Penelope answered.
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