[Smooth pearls roll between the softness of Margaery's fingertips as she turns her gaze back to Colette. At one point in time, Margaery's father had made her wear a cross around her neck as if it was some miracle cure for her... affliction. Only then did Margaery see how right her grandmother was to call the man an oaf. Though her father made sure Margaery wanted for nothing, he shattered her heart as eagerly as a bull stumbling through a china shop. Her father knew nothing of the kindness a lie could offer.]
Are you a liar, sweetling?
[Sansa once called herself a liar. A terrible liar but a liar nonetheless.]
ugh late ;A; my net is still down
[Smooth pearls roll between the softness of Margaery's fingertips as she turns her gaze back to Colette. At one point in time, Margaery's father had made her wear a cross around her neck as if it was some miracle cure for her... affliction. Only then did Margaery see how right her grandmother was to call the man an oaf. Though her father made sure Margaery wanted for nothing, he shattered her heart as eagerly as a bull stumbling through a china shop. Her father knew nothing of the kindness a lie could offer.]
Are you a liar, sweetling?
[Sansa once called herself a liar. A terrible liar but a liar nonetheless.]