Olenna had made it clear to the Tyrell men and staff, as well as the Bolton men, that there would be no bedding ceremony. She would allow inspections to be made to the sheets once Margaery and Hannibal had consummated and summoned the servants to clean up the bed linens, just to ensure to all parties that Margaery was indeed a true maid. But that was all. She would not have people at the door listening in; such a perverted tradition, she thought.

Margaery had enjoyed the ceremony immensely. She'd hardly been able to keep herself from crying in joy. But she'd remained strong. As she danced with Hannibal she felt a firm tap on her shoulder. Margaery turned and smiled upon seeing her grandmother.

"Forgive me, child - I'd like to cut in," Olenna smiled, clad in her finest robin-egg-blue silks.

Margaery bowed her head and stepped back from Hannibal to allow her grandmother to take her place. Olenna did not press as close as Margaery had. But she kept close enough to whisper.

"Answer me honestly, boy: Do you mean to harm my precious granddaughter?" Olenna kept her voice down so only Hannibal would hear.