Re: in which margaery gets to the point
He was angry with her knowing. That much was true. It was unfair, but it was true. Most of his annoyance was heaped at Loras’ feet, but some of the blame fell to Margaery, certainly, as she had asked in the first place. Renly listened to his wife speak, her voice ringing with the same certainty as before. It just wasn’t in her to sound tentative, he supposed, as he finally broke eye contact to look around the dark room. His eyes skimmed the surface of the long table that stood impeccably clean, the twin hearths, the shadows the flames drew around the highbacked chairs, all the way around the room until he’d come full circle, and found himself looking at Margaery again.
A part of Renly, the prickly part, want to tell the woman next to him that he had not, in fact, admitted to anything, but luckily, that part was much weaker than the rest of him. The king could feel his chest constricting with emotion - being cornered did not feel good, that was true, but also, it was frightening to think that someone knew - though that person was Margaery. Renly’s indignation had mostly quelled and his kingly pomp died by the time he ran a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, and fear started to sneak in. But denial was wearisome. (Where had his wine gone?)
When he finally spoke again, all the man asked was: “What all did he tell you?”