They're not nice girls.

The Lannisters meant it as an insult when they arranged the marriage of Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell. But is it truly an insult if nobody is insulted?

In the dark, under the bedclothes, Margaery calls Sansa her Queen in the North, her Red Wolf.

History will not remember them kindly, the four queens of Westeros.

She has only caught fleeting glances of Margaery today, their future queen being too busy with official matters, but every tiny glimpse of her sweet half-smile or the sunlight glinting on her pale shoulders has only pushed Sansa closer to the brink of madness. She does not know what is wrong with her: she knows she has no good reason to be craving Margaery's attentions so much today of all days, but then again, she has grown to crave it more days than not now.