Margaery glanced down when he commented how it fit her bust. Her fingers ran along the collar and bust line. It was a bit tight, and pressed her breasts together and made them swell a bit over the gown. But when he whispered so close to her ear, Margaery had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning. The heat of his breath and the rumble of his voice...oh, this was going to be a challenge.

But she reminded herself that he was a Bolton, probably used to taking what he wanted, just like his father. She glanced over her shoulder to him. "I enjoy a challenge."

She played the game of thrones well enough at King's Landing. But she wondered if her skills were enough for the North.

Margaery moved to the books rather stiffly, not used to the heavy gown. She lacked a great deal of her grace and sensual movements. But with Ramsay lurking about, she was probably better off.

She found books of poetry and history, and promptly set them aside. "Your father will not mind me keeping these for a bit?" She found a book of maps and North folklore that she would probably find useful. "These seem awfully important."