While Will evaluated Margaery and tried to pinpoint why she was here and what her relation to Hannibal was, Margaery was doing the same. Was he a colleague of Hannibal's? Or a wealthy socialite? The truth of the matter never occurred to her, so Margaery maintained a careful skepticism while they talked.
She looked at the painting while he continued off his first thought. Margaery pouted her lips and shook her head. "Mmm...you think so? I don't think so. I think there's true emotion here. See the brushstrokes? Look how loving they are and careful," she gestured to a particular section of the painting. "No, there is emotion and love here."
When he was playful and refused to answer her and give his name, Margaery giggled and leaned in a bit, dropping her voice as he had. "Mr. Dearheart, you say? How charming! Then may I introduce myself, Rose Lady's the name." Margaery laughed at her own silly name that she had concocted for herself. It sounded terribly poetic, but if anyone knew anything about the Tyrells, they knew the crest was the rose, and that Margaery was often referred to as the Tyrell Prize Rose.
When he leaned back and revealed his true name and how he knew about the painting to her, there was no avoidance nor reproach in her expression or voice. Margaery smiled and nodded slowly, understanding. "It's all right - I'm more of a literary fiend than an art lover, myself." She turned to face him more fully. "I'm Margaery. It's nice to meet you Will. So, how do you know Dr. Lecter?"
no subject
She looked at the painting while he continued off his first thought. Margaery pouted her lips and shook her head. "Mmm...you think so? I don't think so. I think there's true emotion here. See the brushstrokes? Look how loving they are and careful," she gestured to a particular section of the painting. "No, there is emotion and love here."
When he was playful and refused to answer her and give his name, Margaery giggled and leaned in a bit, dropping her voice as he had. "Mr. Dearheart, you say? How charming! Then may I introduce myself, Rose Lady's the name." Margaery laughed at her own silly name that she had concocted for herself. It sounded terribly poetic, but if anyone knew anything about the Tyrells, they knew the crest was the rose, and that Margaery was often referred to as the Tyrell Prize Rose.
When he leaned back and revealed his true name and how he knew about the painting to her, there was no avoidance nor reproach in her expression or voice. Margaery smiled and nodded slowly, understanding. "It's all right - I'm more of a literary fiend than an art lover, myself." She turned to face him more fully. "I'm Margaery. It's nice to meet you Will. So, how do you know Dr. Lecter?"