Chapter Three
Penli woke early, like usual, to get in some practice before breakfast. Though he was retired and had no intention of coming out of retirement, he didn’t want to grow soft either. And now he had the challenges to prepare for, which meant morning practice was going to get a lot more brutal. Most of his training focused on archery, but a few times a week he also focused on swordsmanship and knifework. Now, he’d be doing all of those every day.
A pity Teia and Sendaar were long gone, even if it was for the best. Maybe once the challenge was over, they could…
Best not to be getting ahead of himself. Look how much trouble he was already about to get himself into.
Carrying his practice sword and the rolled up sheath that held his daggers, which was normally worn on his back, he headed leisurely through the halls to the smaller practice yard at the southeast end of the palace, eschewing the much larger practice yard that took up most of the space directly behind it.
When he arrived, however, it was to see he wasn’t alone.
Sendaar froze in the middle of a swing. “What are you doing here?”
Penli laughed. “I come here most mornings, apple tart. Why are you in this little place instead of the main yard?”
“I like the quiet,” Sendaar replied. “It’s not something we get often, always traveling. And the fewer people I have to deal with here, when all they can talk about is the wedding…” He shrugged, misery and bitterness overtaking his face. Then he grimaced. “I am sorry, my lord. You keep getting stuck listening to us complain.” He smiled sadly. “It is good to see you again, even at something as unexciting as training.”
“And you,” Penli said softly, disconcerted by how true the words were. “Up for a bit of sparring, pet?”
Sendaar broke into a grin. “Sounds fun.” He set his sword aside and pulled down the buckler strapped to his back, buckling it into place on his left forearm. “What do I get if I win?”
Anticipation, and something that felt like genuine excitement, and an almost-forgotten sense of camaraderie rushed through him. “If you win, you can name your boon.”
“Dangerous,” Sendaar said, retrieving his practice sword again and moving to take up the start position at the far side of the ring.
Penli tied back his hair, strapped on his buckler, and drew his own sword. Getting into position on the opposite side of the ring, he said, “On the count?”
Sendaar nodded.
On the count of three, they burst into movement, and Penli was nearly distracted from his work by admiring how quickly and lightly Sendaar moved. Though Penli was by no means a tiny or skinny individual, he was accustomed to being the slighter in fights, relying on speed to counter stronger, bigger opponents.
How unusual to be the larger, though he wasn’t any slower.
He ducked a swing and slammed his buckler into Sendaar’s chest, knocking him briefly off balance. But before he could bring his sword into position, Sendaar had recovered and was back on the attack. Penli blocked the swing with his sword that time, then darted aside as the swords slid apart.
Sendaar kicked the back of his knee, sending Penli tumbling. He rolled away and gained his feet only barely in time to block the next swing that came at him.
Back and forth across the training ground they sparred, until both were covered in dirt and sweat, with scattered nicks and scraps.
Penli yelped as Sendaar sent him toppling to the ground and his sword went flying, but he managed to knock Sendaar’s sword away with his buckler, swept his legs out from under him, and rolled to pin Sendaar to the ground, thighs trapping Sendaar’s legs and his fingers wrapped tightly around slender, but strong wrists. They were both panting heavily as Penli said, “Do you yield, sweetness?”
Laughing, eyes bright with delight and the thrill of a friendly fight, Sendaar said, “I yield.”
Penli kissed him, heedless of the sweat and dirt and how they were both still trying to regain their breath. Drawing reluctantly back, he rolled away and climbed to his feet. After wiping sweat from his face with a relatively clean corner of his tunic, he went to retrieve his sword. “It’s rare I lose my weapon. That was very well done.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a match that’s lasted so long. Opponents usually go down easier or knock me down faster.”
“Agreed. We’re well-matched.” He sheathed his sword and returned his buckler to its place on his back before retrieving the daggers he’d set aside. “I suppose I should go make myself presentable for breakfast.”
Sendaar waited in the doorway for him. “What about your boon?”
“Oh, right.” Penli smiled. “As tempting as it is to claim something involving your mouth on me, I think I’d like to hear you sing again sometime.”
That got him an absolutely beautiful smile. “I could do that. Sometimes Teia and I take turns reading to each other. On nights he can’t sleep, he likes when I read or sing to him.”
“That would be absolutely lovely,” Penli murmured and couldn’t resist stealing another brief kiss, no matter how reckless it was. “Now I’d best be off, before I give in to temptation. I do hope your day goes well, or at least is bearable, my delight. Tell Teia I said hello.”
“Have a good day,” Sendaar said softly, and after a last shy, parting glance, darted away down the hall.
Penli watched him until he’d vanished, and then finally headed back to his rooms, sighing at himself and his strange behavior.
It took a great deal of scrubbing, but after a couple of hours he was finally fit for public viewing. He was just finishing with his earrings when the back of his neck tingled. He turned around just in time to brace for the tall, broad, and heavily built woman barreling toward him with a familiar determined expression on her face. “Good morning, dew drop.”
“Don’t ‘dew drop’ me,” Shanna snapped, stopping just short of plowing into him. She jabbed his chest with two fingers. “What are you plotting?”
“I never plot before midday, crumb cake. Plotting requires a smart jacket and a stiff drink, and it’s too early for either.”
She jabbed him again. “You’re not fooling me. You’ve been avoiding me the past two days, and Kallaar won’t stop smirking whenever he thinks I’m not looking, so the two of you are doing something and I’ll have the truth from one of you before the day is out.”
Penli’s brows rose. “You think Kallaar is keeping a secret? Kallaar, who thinks you are a goddess on earth?”
“He’s a very good liar when he wants to be,” Shanna groused. Her eyes narrowed. “Since when do you call him ‘Kallaar’?”
“It does seem a bit absurd to be so formal with him when I am so familiar with his wife,” Penli replied.
Shanna braced her hands on her hips. “Do not make me knock you over.”
“If you do, I shall be quite cross with you, rosette, because I’ve already ruined one good jacket this month and somehow got a tear in a favorite shirt. If you add this jacket to the casualty list, there will be no forgiveness and no quarter.”
Dropping her hands, laughter filling the hallway, Shanna replied, “You know I’d never bring harm to your clothes. But I will wound that pretty face if you don’t confess your conniving.”
“That would spoil the fun, my sweet.” He kissed her cheek. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Not when you’re scheming, especially if you’re doing so with Kallaar, and most definitely not when Tishasanti is in the vicinity. If I’d known he was here, I would have warned the palace what a mistake that is. “
Penli shrugged. “To be honest, I assumed he’d be off somewhere his family couldn’t take issue with his attitude problems.”
“From what I’ve seen, they instilled those attitude problems,” Shanna said. “Why don’t you just avoid him?”
“Because that is what everyone else does, and what good has come of that?” Penli fussed with his jacket sleeves, smoothing out the cuffs and then the frogs that ran down his chest. Though short jackets were not the current fashion, he absolutely refused to wear the long, shapeless things that were. His ass and legs were not meant to hidden by flouncy, overlong jackets. “Problems should not be ignored; they should be resolved, and I will resolve the problem of Tishasanti one way or another. Now cease your fretting, honey drop. Best you be able to plead ignorance, anyway.”
She gently grabbed his sleeves and pulled him close, looked up at him with those oh-so-pretty eyes that had first melted his firm resolve to stay well away from foolish things like friendship. He’d been twenty-two and Shanna just fourteen. There was no reason they should have become fast friends, and yet after only a matter of days, it felt they’d been friends all their lives. “I know you are as brash as you are beautiful, Penli, but please be careful. I don’t want to lose you, too. My stepfather—I thought he was going to kill you that night. You shouldn’t even still want to be my friend after all the grief you’ve suffered because of me.”
“My darling girl, you were the one who reminded me what friends are for and why I’m so very honored you are mine. I have no intention of bringing harm to myself, and I will be careful.” He hugged her tightly and didn’t let go until she’d stopped trembling. “Now run along and kiss your beloveds to help mitigate some of the rumors we’ve no doubt set to spinning.”
Laughing, tossing her hair, Shanna kissed his cheeks, hugged him again briefly, and with a small wave, departed.
Penli sighed when she had gone. He might not have plans to bring harm to himself, but that didn’t mean he could do much about the fact Tishasanti was going to have every intention of killing him in… Penli pulled out his gold and amethyst pocket watch. Three hours. In just three hours he would either make a grand fool of himself, or he would essentially invite murder. And there was an excellent chance he’d do both.
Tucking the watch away again, he resumed heading for the banquet hall where he had every intention of enjoying what could very well be his last meal. Mercy of the divine, why was he doing this again?
But it took only recalling the night two days ago when Teia and Sendaar had so generously thanked him. Delightful as the sex was, though, Penli had been far more enthralled by smiles and laughter and the way they seemed to enjoy sleeping draped against his sides. That didn’t make sense to him, seeing as they were the lovers and he a temporary amusement. A temporary safety, more like, but the important bit was that he was not permanent. Only Shanna had ever remained in his life by his choice; everyone else had been forced upon him. Gods, the broken arm had been a small price to pay for dodging the marriage he’d been dreading.
Shaking off glum thoughts as he reached the banquet hall, Penli helped himself to the delightful offerings and slipped outside to eat in the garden. The few others gathered there politely ignored him the same way they were politely ignoring each other, and by the time he was done, Penli was almost in a good mood again.
Picking up one of his bows, Penli examined it thoroughly. This particular one was his favorite, a long bow made of a single piece of dragon oak. Not easy to come by, or anywhere near the realm of cheap. He’d been looking forward to using it when King Mercen had violently removed him from the contest. Hopefully he’d be able to compete again someday, when Mercen no longer wanted to remove him from the world.
In addition to his long bow, he had a composite bow meant for hunting, two others meant for combat, and a crossbow he didn’t particularly care for but could use effectively. He also had a bow meant especially for flight competitions, but those weren’t nearly as interesting to him as the target and terrain competitions.
He also had swords, daggers, and two shields, along with various types of armor and other equipment. All of it was as beautifully crafted as it could be without sacrificing integrity. His surcoats were masterpieces: purple, red, black, and gold, his crest three black roses with gold vines, a red and purple flower-drinking bird above the roses. Not his family crest—no, he’d always very firmly refused to be associated with his family more than strictly necessary. Even his title hadn’t come from his family, but been granted to him by Shanna’s mother in reward for the small skirmish in which he’d killed at least seventeen men but wound up saving hundreds. It had been one of the ugliest fights he’d ever been in, and he’d lost several comrades before it was over. He’d endured several more skirmishes, none quite as bad as the one that had made him a source of morbid fascination for a time, before finally returning to the palace, feeling like a hollow shell of himself, ugly and broken and shattered.
He had a title, land that brought in a great deal of money, shares in numerous businesses, prize money from the archery contests, and before all of that, he’d had reward money given for especially dangerous and difficult kills made during the war. It had given his parents exactly the leverage they needed to begin negotiating his marriage with a prince. Penli had just wanted to be left alone, save for the princess he called friend.
Abandoning his weapons and armor, Penli went into his bed chamber and stripped, changing into clothes that were suitable for late afternoon and well into the evening. Scarlet was a little flashy, but combined with black and some modest green and gold touches, it came together rather well.
Sitting at his dressing table, he added some rubies and emeralds to his long hair, as well as ruby teardrop earrings. Mercy, he missed all the jewelry he’d been forced to leave behind along with his wardrobe. He did not survive ten years of military life to be denied his indulgences now.
Well, hopefully when he died, they would bury him in what he wore. He did not trust any of them to dress him suitably and he wasn’t quite morbid enough to lay out his funeral dress.
Returning to the sitting room, he tucked a couple of small daggers into his clothes, then went to the settee where he’d left his latest book and read a few more chapters before the palace bells tolled. The hour of his demise was mere moments away.
When he reached the hall where the Ceremony of Declaration was taking place, he wasn’t surprised that he garnered looks and whispers. After all, no one knew he was friends with Teia and Sendaar, and why would a stray foreigner have any interest in such a mundane matter?
A few people greeted him politely, and Penli returned them without lingering as they clearly hoped. He settled at a table with only two other people occupying it. One of them bore a passing resemblance to Teia, so probably family. Across the room was a beautiful woman with silvering hair who bore a near exact likeness to Sendaar, and she looked close to tears. Where was Sendaar?
But that was a stupid question. He sat next to Teia up at the front, holding hands beneath the table. Penli ached to go to them, but stayed where he was. As much as he dreaded the unavoidable violence that would ensue because everything Tishasanti did was violent, he was more anxious over how Teia and Sendaar would react.
Because the first step in a challenge was declaring it. The second step was having the challenge accepted by the suitor in question—Teia, in this case. Then the ruling monarch had to approve it.
After that came the first of the three challenges: proving he was a worthy challenger. It was the easiest one, but where most challenges failed. In one of the accounts he’d read, the matter had become so contested it took an entire month to decide whether or not a challenger was the equal of the suitor she was opposing—and ultimately the challenger had been declared unfit.
And that woman had possessed far more advantages than Penli. He and Kallaar, with unofficial advice from Queen Hajar, had compiled his credentials. He should pass muster, but Penli had learned the hard way, with battle scars and dead comrades, to never assume the battle was won until it was won.
Sipping at a cup of tea he’d requested, Penli waited with a patience he did not feel as the ceremony began, and gulped down two additional cups of too-hot tea before the presiding priest stepped onto the dais and boomed out, “Are there any challengers to this union?”
Penli tamped down on his nerves, finished his last swallow of tea, and rose. “I challenge as suitor for the honor of marrying Lord Teia ren Hallish.”
In the front of the room, Teia jerked upright as though struck, and both he and a crying Sendaar whipped around to stare at him, mouths open and eyes wide.
“What!” Tishasanti bellowed as he surged to his feet and jerked around. “Penlington, what the fuck—”
“Sit. Down,” King Adnan commanded and glared hard when Tishasanti looked like he was going to argue.
Tishasanti obeyed, but sat so he could continue glaring at Penli.
“Come forward,” King Adnan said.
Not looking at anything but the fancy seal and drapery on the wall behind where the king and queen sat, Penli walked the hundred miles across the room and stopped before the dais. King Adnan, sitting with Queen Hajar, said, “State your name and the reason you seek to challenge this union.”
“My name is Lord William Kerry Penlington, Third Earl of Graymark. I challenge because I would like the honor of marrying Lord Teia myself, and think I would make a better spouse than Lord Tishasanti, who has a known history of maltreating and abusing his lovers and friends.”
“You—” Tishasanti broke off with a poorly muffled curse as guards started to move forward to make him be quiet.
“Lord Teia,” Adnan said, and Lord Teia rose. “This man challenges for you; do you accept or reject?”
Teia swallowed, stared at Penli wide-eyed. “I-I accept, Your Majesty.”
Penli let out a rushed, ragged breath.
“He’s a foreigner!” Tishasanti snarled.
“That is irrelevant,” Adnan replied. “He’s challenged, been accepted, and I am approving it.”
Tishasanti strode forward onto the dais. “He’s not my equal! He should be in a prison in Remnien. He’s been disowned. His wealth—”
“Is still greater than yours, and I do not believe I need you telling me anything about matters regarding Remnien. You will get back in your seat and stay there or you will be the one in a prison for a couple of days, Lord Tishasanti. Am I clear?”
“Majesty,” Tishasanti said and muttered terse apologies before obediently taking his seat. At Adnan’s signal, one of the guards moved to hover close by should Tishasanti need to be dealt with.
Adnan motioned for silence, but it still took a moment for all the whispering to subside. “Your challenge has been accepted, Lord Penli. Do you know what you face?”
“As well as a man in my position can,” Penli said with a wry smile that made Adnan and Hajar chuckle. “I do know what I face, Your Majesties. My suit is in earnest, and I am prepared.”
“Good. Then the first test is to prove your suitability.”
Penli bowed and removed the packet of papers from within his jacket, handing it to the guard who stepped forward. Adnan broke the seal and read through them, then handed them to Hajar. When she was done, the papers were given in turn to Lord Teia, Lord Tishasanti, and their respective families.
“Objections, Lord Tishasanti?” Adnan asked.
Looking very much like he’d been made to eat the hideous umber paisley jacket he was wearing, Tishasanti said, “No objections to anything on paper, Your Majesty. But I do respectfully wonder how Lord Teia and Lord Penlington come to know each other so well he is challenging to marry my fiancé but did not propose much sooner and give Lord Teia time to call off our arrangement long before now.”
Adnan looked to Penli. “A fair question.”
“Yes, Majesty.” Penli bowed and turned to address Tishasanti. “Until roughly four years ago, I was in the royal army, specifically the special forces—what many call the blood and shadow force. Teia and I rarely got to see one another, let alone discuss something as important as marriage. By the time I was able to resign and settle down, other problems within the kingdom had cropped up that convinced me it was not the best time to marry. A fear that proved justified, given my current predicament. But I cannot stand by and watch Teia marry someone else.” He bit off saying “especially a rancid corpse of a bastard like Tishasanti” but only barely.
“You’ve been fucking my fiancé this whole time?” Tishasanti bellowed. “I’ll break you and that fucking whore!” He threw himself out of his chair, shoving aside the guard before launching onto the dais and throwing a punch at Penli.
Thankfully it wasn’t hard to see Tishasanti’s swings coming, even in a dark room while wearing a blindfold. Penli darted back out of the way, dropped off the far edge of the dais, and backed up further until he was in a space where no one was likely to get hurt.
Tishasanti came after him, mottled with rage, and bellowing things he probably wasn’t even hearing—and clearly he had forgotten that everybody else could hear them. Well, it was hardly the first time he’d listened to Tishasanti spew those insults. They might even be in the same order.
“Enough!” Adnan bellowed. “Guards!”
By the time the guards reached them, however, he’d let Tishasanti get one hit in, which seemed to mollify him somewhat. But it always had, and it always made him cocky.
It took four guards to secure Tishasanti, and another two stayed close just in case.
Tishasanti spit at him. “How fucking typical of you, Penlington. Show up and start trouble, then leave others to clean up your messes.” He spit again, not quite reaching Penli’s dark purple, gold-trimmed shoes. “Special forces, bah! What were you, the camp harlot? Did you fuck their spouses, too?”
“Like I didn’t see you two weeks ago at the House of Eternal Delights. To judge by the winsome boys and girls you choose, your fiancé is too old for you.”
Only the six guards kept Tishasanti back.
“Enough,” Adnan said. “Lord Penli, you have passed the first challenge. I think it’s best if you now go to your rooms for the evening.”
Penli bowed low. “Of course, Your Majesty. I apologize for the disturbance in proceedings and my unseemly behavior. I will do much better going forward.”
“Yes, you will,” Adnan said, but the barest hint of amusement lingered in his eyes.
“Am I permitted a moment with Lord Teia?” Penli asked.
Adnan hesitated, but then nodded. “Yes. You may use the room across the hall, but keep it brief. Guards, escort Lord Tishasanti to his room, and see to his needs the rest of the night.”
“Yes, Majesty,” the guards chorused, not looking entirely thrilled at the tacit order to keep Tishasanti out of trouble.
Penli slipped out of the room and across the hall. At least he’d managed to dodge Shanna and all the gawkers. He’d have to face Shanna eventually, but he was adult enough to admit he was happy to avoid that conversation for as long as possible.
Several minutes later the door opened, and Teia and Sendaar stepped inside. Teia slammed the door shut and locked it, dropped the key to the floor before running across the room and throwing himself into Penli’s arms. Penli stumbled back a bit, but caught himself and steadied, clinging tightly to the trembling bundle in his arms. “There, there, are you all right?”
Teia looked up at him with wet eyes. “I can’t believe you did that, that you would—” He gave up on words, instead pushing up on his toes to give Penli a needy, clumsy kiss.
Penli gently cupped the side of his face and drew back just enough to calm and gentle the kiss, his thumbs brushing away tears. “Shh, sweetheart. No need to fret so.”
“Why would you do this?” Sendaar asked. “You don’t owe us anything, least of all so great a kindness as this.” He stood off to the side, looking like a sad kitten accidentally locked out of the house all night. Penli reeled him in and kissed him as softly as he had Teia. When he drew back, he pulled out a kerchief and gently wiped the tears and tearstains from Sendaar’s cheeks. “Why?” Sendaar asked again.
“I couldn’t entirely say, to be honest, but I know precisely how evil Tishasanti can be, and I could not bear to see the two of you torn apart, or what further harm he would cause Teia.”
They murmured indecipherable words and hugged him tightly. Penli swallowed, disconcerted by how nice—how right—it felt to hold them so. “Well it’s good to know you are not taken aback by my impertinence.”
Teia laughed against his chest. “I think we’ve made it clear we like all that you do.”
“Yes, I suppose you have,” Penli said, mind spinning fanciful thoughts of tying them to the bed and doing as he pleased. Spending an entire day making them do his bidding. He kissed them again, soft and lingering, ignoring the ache left behind when he finally made himself withdraw. “Run along now, my pets. His Majesty said we could speak only briefly, and I do not want to further draw his ire.”
“Thank you again,” Teia whispered, and darted in close to steal another hard, breathless kiss. Sendaar did the same, holding him almost painfully tight.
Then they were gone, and Penli was left bereft. When had he gotten so soft and squishy inside? Hadn’t he made certain all those vulnerable bits were carved out or sealed over? Clearly, he’d missed a spot, and now the whole mess was tumbling down. Sighing, he swung his hair over his shoulders and—
Froze in something very much like terror as the door slammed open and a fierce queen-in-waiting stormed into the room with evisceration in her eyes.
Slamming the door shut behind her, not bothering to lock it, Shanna whipped around and blazed toward him. “Are you out of your fucking mind! Are you so gods damned determined to humiliate and hurt Tishasanti that you’d—you’d—you’d marry complete strangers?”
“They aren’t complete strangers,” Penli replied. “We’ve spent several hours together.”
“Probably naked,” she snapped—then stopped, realization spreading across her face. “You’re sleeping with both of them. Lord Threesomes Aren’t For Me?” Earlier irritation warred with the new amusement on her face, creating several expressions Penli wished he could capture permanently. Finally she laughed. “Penli, what in the world are you doing?” Her scowl returned. “Besides trying to send me to the grave by way of an early heart attack.”
“My darling crumpet, I will never permit you to die—such a thing is not to be borne. As to what I am doing, I am competing in a marriage challenge.”
She gave him a look. “The solitary lord who has whined about marriage and dragged the matter out for years is throwing all sense and caution to the sea to marry a man he barely knows?”
“Marry two men I barely know.”
“You’re not helping your case.”
Penli bit back a groan at the look that accompanied the words—the look of a woman, a queen, who knew and understood far more than everyone else. She was going to be a breathtaking, wonderful monarch. Penli would happily die for her and do anything she asked of him. But right now he wished she’d go give that look to someone else. “Look, honey drop, you know how I feel about Tishasanti and how I feel about people being used and mistreated by the ones who should most want to protect them.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Shanna said. “You have the heart of a lifesworn, and the skills to be a fine one, and all the acumen and knowledge to be the prince you almost were. The prince who probably would have married you anyway, if you had gone to him and begged for help. Instead you’re languishing here because you insisted on siding with me, and now you are risking yourself again to aid Lord Teia and Master Sendaar. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were clamoring to be named—”
“Don’t say it,” Penli said with a groan, pinching his eyes shut.
“Queen’s Champion,” Shanna finished with relish, and poked him until he opened his eyes. “You can play hardened soldier and vapid flower all you like, Penli, but you cannot fool the girl you cried with in the garden on the day we met.”
Penli heaved a long sigh. “No, but I can regret every moment I’ve known you.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe.” Penli laughed as she poked him again. “Definitely.”
She hugged him tightly. “I cannot believe you, Penli. Even for you, this is madness.”
“I cannot quite believe it myself, sweeting, but here we are.” He scrubbed his face. “Let us hope I do not make everything worse, and that Tishasanti does not take care of me before I take care of him.”
“If he dares to do anything out of bounds, he will regret it the rest of his life,” Shanna hissed. “Ahmla and his friends are going to be keeping a close watch on that hunk of rotted meat.” Ire turned to mischief like a flipped coin. “Kallaar mentioned there is a strong chance one of the fortitude challenges will be an archery match.”
“Well at least I’ll win one battle before losing the war.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ll beat him easily.”
“I don’t know about easily, but we’ll see. Now, please, I need a break from discussing this, I beg of you, darling.”
“As you wish. Come on, we’ll have an early dinner and you can tell me about how you met your handsome men.”
“Certainly not.”
She burst out laughing. “Oh, I see. Tell me anyway. I don’t need details, you know that. But since you never are willing to take me such places, I want to hear all I can.”
“You’re a princess, a queen-in-waiting—you don’t go to brothels!”
“Only because nobody will let me. Oh! You also must tell me what story you three have contrived, so I can maintain it.”
Penli stopped. “Um.”
Her jaw dropped briefly. “You didn’t coordinate a story with them?”
“They didn’t know!”
“Penli!”
“I’ll pen a note, we’ll work out a time and place to compose our story, and then I’ll come see you.”
“Definitely a soldier rather than a spy. Tsk, tsk, Champion.”
Penli grimaced. “Call me that one more time, rose petal, and you will not have to worry about your father killing you.”
Snickering, looking wholly unconcerned for once with a threat of murder, Shanna linked their arms and all but dragged him to her suite.
He’d be lucky to still have his voice in the morning, by the time she let him stop talking, but if that was the greatest of his complaints, he could only call himself content.