Ramsay shrugged and gave a lopsided smirk. "Well, she'll be a Bolton in name only, not a true Bolton by blood, to be fair, brother."
"Hmph, even so, I'd still be more proper Bolton than you," Margaery sneered, sticking her nose haughtily into the air. It was hardly a bragging point in her eyes, but still - it would stick in Ramsay's craw, and that was the intended result.
And prick him it did, Ramsay's eyes lit and he made no attempt to hide the glare of pure hatred for her. That made Margaery nervous but she stuck her nose in the air and ignored him - or at least pretended to.
It would take some time before the raven reached Highgarden for Lady Olenna to issue a reply. So for the moment, she was stuck in Winterfell with the Boltons. Alone. Not even Loras was here to protect her. Margaery was beyond nervous, she was downright terrified. But she wasn't about to show her fear to the men who bore the banner of the flayed man. Margaery would make good use of her time; if she was to be here, she could at least pretend to be cordial for as long as required. She had no intention of marrying into the Bolton House; she planned on becoming queen. But she would at least play nice with her for-the-moment betrothed.
Ramsay, on the other hand, would get no warmth from her.
Thinking on warmth, Margaery finally let herself shiver from the cold. She rubbed her hands along her arms to try and generate some manner of warmth back into her body. She looked weak, not unlike a wounded doe. It was her hope to appeal to the more rational Bolton men for a cloak or a blanket. "The tales are true, apparently. The climate in Highgarden is so significantly warmer than here in the North..."
She'd never been far north; only as far as Renly's camp. This was far too cold for her liking.
no subject
"Hmph, even so, I'd still be more proper Bolton than you," Margaery sneered, sticking her nose haughtily into the air. It was hardly a bragging point in her eyes, but still - it would stick in Ramsay's craw, and that was the intended result.
And prick him it did, Ramsay's eyes lit and he made no attempt to hide the glare of pure hatred for her. That made Margaery nervous but she stuck her nose in the air and ignored him - or at least pretended to.
It would take some time before the raven reached Highgarden for Lady Olenna to issue a reply. So for the moment, she was stuck in Winterfell with the Boltons. Alone. Not even Loras was here to protect her. Margaery was beyond nervous, she was downright terrified. But she wasn't about to show her fear to the men who bore the banner of the flayed man. Margaery would make good use of her time; if she was to be here, she could at least pretend to be cordial for as long as required. She had no intention of marrying into the Bolton House; she planned on becoming queen. But she would at least play nice with her for-the-moment betrothed.
Ramsay, on the other hand, would get no warmth from her.
Thinking on warmth, Margaery finally let herself shiver from the cold. She rubbed her hands along her arms to try and generate some manner of warmth back into her body. She looked weak, not unlike a wounded doe. It was her hope to appeal to the more rational Bolton men for a cloak or a blanket. "The tales are true, apparently. The climate in Highgarden is so significantly warmer than here in the North..."
She'd never been far north; only as far as Renly's camp. This was far too cold for her liking.