Vaguely, swirling the last drink of wine around in the cup, Renly thought on his lover, on how he was going to find him and give him a stern talking to, if not just place his face under a silk pillow and hope for the best. The king rubbed distractedly at his temple, the headache blooming once again behind his eyes. He smiled weakly as Margaery laughed.
"I fear you're right," he said with the same weariness as before, pointedly ignoring the insinuating comment. The man sighed and removed himself from the bed with as much grace as Margaery had before. He needed to go and clear his head. Certainly he was glad that his wife seemed... content with the idea that her husband loved her brother, which, frankly, he'd never expected would happen, but he needed to consider how he was going to speak to his former squire about this. Though he wasn't yet dressed in his more regal raiment, Renly crossed the room to the door, wine in hand. "I fear I have kept the councilmen are waiting for me for too long, my lady. I'll speak with you later."
And with that, he left the room and struck out to find the other Tyrell.