All Margaery could do was nod. Even so, she did it stiffly. At the offer of the flask, she nodded again and took it. She tipped the flask to her lips and sipped the ale. It helped warm her belly a bit, but otherwise, she still felt cold. Margaery burrowed in against Hannibal, pressing her face against his shoulder.

This was one aspect of the North that she could live without.