Penelope's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the morning light peeking through the curtains. She patted the spot beside her where Tyrion should be, but found it empty.
Penelope rubbed her eyes. "Tyrion," she called, hoping he had not departed for the palace without telling her goodbye.
Penelope sat up, letting the drowsiness leave her body.
"I am here," she heard Tyrion's voice.
Tyrion walked out of the bathing chamber, buttoning up his uniform. He smiled, noticing Penelope's eyes widening a little.
"I am all yours when I return. I have not forgotten what you asked of me, so rest today to be prepared for your gift," said Tyrion.
Penelope was initially puzzled by what he meant, but it soon dawned on her what she spoke of last night.
"I must speak less sometimes," Penelope replied.
"You mustn't. I like it when you are vocal. You have made it hard for me to train when I return since you have clawed at my back," Tyrion revealed.
