Margaery blushed, embarrassed as he tipped her head up and wiped her tears away. She felt childish. The last time someone had wiped her tears away had been her brother when Renly died. This was not nearly as big a deal as that had been. But she listened carefully and nodded slowly.

"You're right, I know it," she sighed. "I just...I don't know. It wasn't how I expected. But then...I'm not certain what I expected either." Her mouth grew crooked as she looked up at him. "I am sorry...I'm being silly."

She turned up the collar of her fur cloak, growing suddenly cold. Margaery considered asking her grandmother as Hannibal suggested, but all she could hear was her grandmother berating the Boltons and telling her that she had no business hunting with a Bolton, husband or not. She could have ended up dead. But Margaery had no fear, not here with Hannibal.