@lordoakheart
The Northern stranger in the newly-named Stagsport had not necessarily destroyed all the work the Rose Queen had put in--she’d delivered enough food and coin to have them chant her name, and surely with the usage of her guard to protect the smallfolk largely over herself she’d further garnered their favor--but it had added yet another issue onto the plate of complications being faced in the Westerlands. Margaery had lingered a while after the murderer had left, consoling the aggrieved and tending to the deceased--and when she had arrived back at Fury’s Keep, she was frustrated and filled to the brim with tension. She’d not crumpled under the threats--and under the violence--in the face of the man, but her hands had shook as she rode with her retinue of women back to the keep, and she’d been made to clench them in fists atop her silken skirts to still them. Suffice to say, she was eager to let her mind go for a while--to put aside her list of worries and take them back up in the morning. It was with some irony that the deaths in the streets of the Stagsport slums offered up a reason for the Rose Queen to go and seek advisement from the Lord of Old Oak, and so as the evening meal concluded and the residents of the keep began to retreat to their apartments for the night, she made her way to his solar. Upon her arrival, she rapped at the door.