Raksha was in little danger of being lost. She followed close behind Margaery's heels, even walking beside her for a little while.
Margaery smiled at his offer and gave his arm a little squeeze. "There are all kinds of traitorous sorts here. Lannister spies, lesser lords looking for ways to advance their station. It's difficult to find someone to trust that you're able to confide in." She leaned into him a little more, her shoulder pressed softly against his, letting her bare upper arm feel he softness of his own clothes. "Your offer is much appreciated. Thank you."
When Will paused to partake of the roses, Margaery smiled, of course having her own special connection with the flower. There were all sorts of colored roses that surrounded them; white, red, pink, sunburst orange. The latter of that list was always Margaery's favorite. When Will pricked himself on the thorns, Margaery couldn't help laughing softly.
She reached out carefully, two fingers slipping beneath the bulb of the flower to tilt it so that she might smell it as well. "With fair and pretty things, the key is to know how to handle them. One can't just grab something so lovely and delicate as a rose and not expect to be cut. They must be handled gently and with care."
Margaery released the flower and smiled up to Will. "The Queen Regent tried to have thornless roses developed, but such attempts were fruitless. As we told her they would be."
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Margaery smiled at his offer and gave his arm a little squeeze. "There are all kinds of traitorous sorts here. Lannister spies, lesser lords looking for ways to advance their station. It's difficult to find someone to trust that you're able to confide in." She leaned into him a little more, her shoulder pressed softly against his, letting her bare upper arm feel he softness of his own clothes. "Your offer is much appreciated. Thank you."
When Will paused to partake of the roses, Margaery smiled, of course having her own special connection with the flower. There were all sorts of colored roses that surrounded them; white, red, pink, sunburst orange. The latter of that list was always Margaery's favorite. When Will pricked himself on the thorns, Margaery couldn't help laughing softly.
She reached out carefully, two fingers slipping beneath the bulb of the flower to tilt it so that she might smell it as well. "With fair and pretty things, the key is to know how to handle them. One can't just grab something so lovely and delicate as a rose and not expect to be cut. They must be handled gently and with care."
Margaery released the flower and smiled up to Will. "The Queen Regent tried to have thornless roses developed, but such attempts were fruitless. As we told her they would be."