Tyrion set up his plates and cutlery beside Penelope and reset the food so they would not need to reach far.
"This is much better," he said, sitting down beside her.
"I must admit that I do enjoy this," Penelope said, feeling more comfortable this way. "Perhaps I was wrong about you. You are a gentleman."
"The night is still quite young. You might be saying otherwise by the end of it," Tyrion replied.
Penelope went back to thinking about their wedding night. She grabbed a glass, brought it to her lips and downed what it was filled with in one go.
It helped to calm her nerves.
Tyrion didn’t miss what she had done. She was nervous for nothing. How couldn’t she tell that he was only teasing her?
This was a side of Penelope he had never seen before, and he wanted to keep it to himself.
Tyrion wanted to push the limit to see how in her head she could get about their first official night together.
"Allow to pour you more wine," Tyrion said, picking up the opened bottle to serve her.
It was now that Penelope grasped what she had done. She was never one to drink wine so quickly. She simply grabbed what was near.
"Thank you, but I don’t need any more. Just water is fine," Penelope said, speaking up right in ti before wine fell into her glass.
Tyrion set the bottle down. "Are you nervous? Should I move my chair?"
Penelope forced her best smile. Why would he need to move when she was perfectly fine?
"Why would I be nervous? It is only dinner," Penelope replied, keeping her focus on the food.
Tyrion leaned forward to touch her face, having her look at him. "You cannot et my eyes. What would you say if I wanted us to be closer?"
"Closer? You’ve already brought your chair to ," Penelope answered.
"There is still another seat for you. I should have been sneaky and told them to prepare one chair," Tyrion said, regretting he hadn’t done so.
Penelope didn’t understand it at first, but her gaze soon trailed down to his lap. "You, you are right. It was too early for to say you are a gentleman."
Tyrion held Penelope’s hand, moving his thumb against the back of her fingers. He always felt so drawn to touching her. He couldn’t before, but now he had every right to hold her without anyone disturbing them.
"I am not a scoundrel. I might not be the perfect gentleman as well. I would prefer you to see as a man who does what he can to get closer to his wife. I’m a loving husband who yields to his lovely wife," Tyrion said, lifting Penelope’s hand to kiss it.
It was a habit he would gladly do daily to show his affection.
Penelope was speechless.
How was she to respond to such confessions?
Penelope looked down at her lap, not from nervousness, but due to an overwhelming feeling that ca over her.
How had she denied his advances for so long?
"I must assu that it is out of the question that I ask you to find yourself a seat on my lap," said Tyrion, chuckling when she squeezed his hand.
"You are a tease," Penelope said, looking up to et his eyes. "How will I bear with you?"
"You only need to give in. I will not harm you," Tyrion replied.
"I don’t ever think you shall harm ," Penelope said, confident this would remain true forever. "I only worry about your flirtatious nature. We must eat and retire to bed. We both had a long day, and tomorrow might be even more tiring."
"I have received a letter from my grandmother, Prisicilla. She wants to et with us," Penelope shared.
Unlike her maternal grandmother, Penelope was close to her paternal grandmother, Priscilla Wright.
"What a coincidence. My grandmother would love to have a word with us. A letter arrived when you were getting dressed for dinner. It would seem that where we live has now spread around quickly," said Tyrion.
Penelope thought about Tyrion’s grandmother, whom she rarely saw. There was old tension between the queen and the king’s mother, so it wasn’t often the king’s mother was seen in the palace.
"I have not been around your grandmother many tis. I wasn’t able to attend the funeral of her late husband. Will she welco ?" Penelope wondered.
Penelope had heard tales of the forr queen being cruel and preferring things to be done her way, but she didn’t want to believe all the stories she heard. She was in no position to judge anyone based on what was said by others.
"I am still pondering on if you should et with her. There is a good reason why my mother and grandmother sotis are at odds with each other. They are in a better place now, but my grandmother tends to be controlling," said Tyrion.
Tyrion’s grandmother, Tabitha Castro, was not fond of her son picking Hazel as his wife. Tabitha tended to have her idea of who a prince should marry, and though her pickiness once ruined her relationship with her son, it was possible she hadn’t learned her lesson.
"I will leave it up to you to decide. I don’t want it to appear that we are only eting with my family, but standing at a distance from your family. I think I can handle your grandmother. She cannot be worse than my other grandmother," said Penelope.
"I doubt it. My grandmother tends to pick at what she doesn’t like. I don’t want her to get so comfortable thinking she can try changing what she doesn’t like about you. I love you as you are now. Don’t let anyone try to convince you that you must be better for ."
"That will never happen. If you are so concerned, we can et her together. I would love to et with your mother as well, but not alongside your grandmother to create trouble. I must give the queen a proper greeting," said Penelope.
Tyrion grabbed the arm of Penelope’s chair and pulled it toward him to have her closer.
It frightened Penelope since it was unexpected, but after glaring at him, she got over it.
"You are a very needy man," Penelope realised.
"I am," Tyrion admitted. "We must enjoy the feast before us while it is still warm. I look forward to the second feast of the night."
Penelope coughed, patting her chest.
"What? You do not want any of the treats your mother spoke of? I thought you had always enjoyed sweets," Tyrion said, playing coy. "You are right to worry about being at my side. I shall have my fun teasing you."
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