Chapter 3: Death at the ball (3)
Warren laughed.
It was expected of a woman from the Collins family to have a man like the prince fighting her battles.
Warren glanced at Penelope, annoyed by the resemblance she shared with her mother. "If it weren’t for your mother, my mother would be able to walk," he said.
Penelope knew that wasn’t true, but she wasn’t going to fight it here for the ball to have something to gossip about. No matter what she would say to defend her mother, Lockwood would always twist gossip, using it to ruin someone just like it did to her mother a long time ago.
Penelope touched Tyrion’s arm. "You should let go of him," she softly spoke.
It wasn’t a good look for Tyrion to fight anyone here.
No one would care that he was protecting her.
Tyrion kept his hold on Warren for a moment but soon let go. He would have his time to deal with Warren when the town wasn’t watching.
Warren glared at Penelope as he fixed his shirt. "You’ll get what is coming to you. All of you will. Mark my words," he looked at Tyrion.
Tyrion reached to grab Warren again since his threat could put him in the palace dungeon, but Penelope held his hand before he could.
"He’s not worth it," Penelope replied, allowing Warren to slip away. "You should go be with the king or acknowledge the women wanting to dance with you. Your queen awaits you."