Chapter 343: Dancing with death (1)
At the Castro residence, Tyrion returned in the dead of the night with his shoulder patched up. He walked with a bottle of rum he had been using to help with the pain.
"Your highness. Your highness?" Damien panicked when he saw the bandages Tyrion was wrapped in. "You failed to protect the prince," he said to the guards behind Tyrion.
"Don’t get so riled up when you don’t know anything. He walked right into getting himself shot," Aiden said, annoyed that Damien was quick to point fingers. "He’ll be fine as long as he rests, doesn’t lift anything heavy and doesn’t let the wound become infected. The bullet is out."
"Is Penelope asleep?" Tyrion asked as he walked by the bickering bunch.
"There is still light in the room, and when I last saw her, she was reading a book. You need a shirt if you are going to hide this from her," Damien suggested.
"I couldn’t hide this from her even if I wanted to. My best bet is to hope she doesn’t finish off killing me. If you hear yelling, ignore it," said Tyrion.
It didn’t matter if it would be Penelope yelling at him or him screaming for his life. There wasn’t anything which could be done to save him from Penelope’s wrath.
Tyrion slowly made his way up to the room he shared with Penelope and pushed the door open as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t wake Penelope if she was asleep.
Tyrion closed his eyes when he heard the sound of a book closing in the quiet room.
"You are late. What trouble did you get yourself into to return far past dinner?" Tyrion heard Penelope’s voice.
The fireplace provided enough light for Tyrion to see where Penelope once sat and where she slid off the bed to make her way over him.
Penelope’s lips were slightly ajar and her eyes wide open as though she couldn’t believe the sight before her.
Penelope had been smiling when the doors opened since she planned to have a night filled with passion, only to stumble upon Tyrion in an awful state.
Penelope touched Tyrion’s shoulder.
The gentle action was followed by Tyrion wincing.
"You," Penelope said, still in disbelief. She couldn’t think of the right words.
Tyrion was wounded.
Her husband was wounded.
"I’m well-"
Tyrion was silenced by Penelope hitting his left shoulder. It was right that it was injured, but the pain travelled and hurt the other side.
"I am already wounded, yet you intend to make it worse," Tyrion said, holding Penelope’s hand to save himself from more pain.
"You must be thankful that it is all I have done. You said that you were going to take care of a small matter, yet you’ve returned with your shoulder wrapped in bandages and a bottle of rum," Penelope pointed out.
"I think the doctor overdid it with the bandages. He only needed to dress the gunshot wound," Tyrion said, but soon regretted what he shared. "Penelope."
"It is not from a sword or dagger, but rather a gun? You are so calm, even though you were shot. Do you have any idea how many have succumbed to gunshot wounds? Not even the greatest palace doctors can save you if this worsens," Penelope said, her fear growing.
Penelope turned away from Tyrion. "It must be that you hate our marriage and want out of it."
"What?" Tyrion asked, confused as to how Penelope came to this conclusion.
Penelope was a little too dramatic.
"Why else would you place yourself in a position where you could be shot? I sat here for hours looking forward to your return, but there was a small chance a knight could be bringing me news of your death," Penelope said, her fingers raking through her hair.
Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that she could have lost Tyrion tonight.
"Penelope," Tyrion said, reaching for Penelope’s hand. "I am well."
"You are fine now, but it could worsen overnight. I have heard what happens to those who are shot. Why must you be like this? Do you think that since you are a royal, there is some force keeping you alive?" Penelope asked, seeking answers.
Penelope wanted to hit Tyrion again, but at the same time, she wanted to hug him. She was facing mixed emotions and didn’t know how to address each one well.
"No. I apologise for worrying you. This isn’t how I intended to return to you, but it was a dangerous task I went to complete. I am sorry that I am worrying you," Tyrion said, holding Penelope’s hand to comfort her. "As long as I rest and tend to the wound, I will be well."
"I don’t want out of his marriage," Tyrion promised.
"And I will make it so you keep your promise. You must come to bed now," Penelope said, tugging on Tyrion’s hand so he could follow her. "I am sorry," she panicked when he winced. "I am going to send for a doctor from the palace."
"I would rather you not get a doctor from the palace. My parents would be informed of what happened, and we don’t need them to know," said Tyrion.
"The palace has the best doctors. You have wounded your head if you think I would send for a doctor from anywhere but the palace. The bed," Penelope said, not taking no for an answer.
Penelope wanted to see Tyrion in bed and his wound tended to before her eyes so she could get rid of the unsettling feelings that built up.
"Tyrion, please help offer me some peace of mind by doing as I ask of you. The thought of losing you still fills my mind, and though I should be grateful that you stand before me, I will only be rid of these thoughts if you are in bed and a doctor is near," said Penelope.
"Okay," Tyrion replied.
Tyrion kept his hold of Penelope’s hand as he walked over to the bed and sat down. The simple action added to his pain, but he found comfort sitting on his bed as opposed to lying on a table before the doctor.
Penelope calmed herself since, in the moment, she had to act fast and make the best decisions for Tyrion.
"Penelope, I will be well. I love you, and I didn’t play some dangerous game with death on purpose to worry you. There was a matter with Warren’s debt. You were included in it as an offering to a brothel owner," Tyrion revealed.
Penelope should know the truth from him rather than learn of it from someone else. There was a small chance that others knew of the deal.
Penelope stared at Tyrion as what he said settled in.
Despite their few run-ins with each other, Warren hated her to this degree?
There was a time when Penelope wanted to get to know him, but would Warren go so far as to harm her?
"Penelope-"
"Sit," Penelope said, pressing her hand on his abdomen. "Get up from this bed, and you will be dancing in the face of death again. I will be back soon," she said, leaning over to kiss Tyrion. "Stay put."