Margaery was not sad, not truly. She had never had a sister before, and Leonette Fossaway was as nice a sister as one could hope for. Her father was bannerman to Margaery's own, and often she had spoken to the bright-eyed Lady Leonette at the banquet table while Lord Mace would listen to the latest news from Cider Hall.
“But Garlan, it won't be the same,” she told her brother as she adjusted the sleeve of his Tyrell green doublet. “She shall be your lady wife from now on, you'll be her protector and not mine.” With all her eleven-year-old strength she edged her gallant brother toward the sunlit window for a better look. Brothers always needed help dressing to up to maximum potential, apart from Loras, and what occasion begged one's maximum potential more than one's wedding? They only came but once in a lifetime, after all.
Garlan laughed pleasantly. “Do not discount Loras, he may be a better knight than I some day. And I'm not going anywhere myself, little sister. If I can best five men at once in the practice yard, surely I can protect both roses of the realm together.”
Margaery giggled. “Best three men, you mean. Does Lady Leonette care for your boasting?”
“According to grandmother, one must always put one's best foot forward.”
“Why yes, but grandmother would be shocked at your lack of foresight. The lady could easily disprove your words with a simple question to your squires, and then where would you be?”
Her brother shrugged and knotted a finely embroidered cloak of green and gold secure over his shoulders. “I imagine that is why you are her favorite student and not me,” he offered amiably.
A bluster of sound burst up from the grounds below. Brother and sister peered out the window at the arriving guests.
“Those are Leonette's kinsmen,” he told her. “Sers Bryan, Tanton, and Edwyd. They've been away in the Stormlands with Renly Baratheon, the one on the right there. I used to know them as boys, as we are of an age.” He considered a moment, and decided his idea passed his test of brotherly concern. “Perhaps Leonette could arrange an introduction for you. I haven't a single doubt that grandmother will be insisting on another wedding before we know it.”
Margaery craned forward to look at the badges on their breasts. “Those are red apple Fossaways,” she noted with authority. “A green apple Fossway would suit my wardrobe far better than a red one.”
“Is that your way of telling me to keep my nose in my own affairs?”
“Garlan! You know I would never say that to you.”
He gave her a sincere smile and kissed her nose. “Alright then, I promise to keep my nose in your affairs all the way to your own wedding day. What say you?”
He nodded, and gave her his arm as they walked toward the great hall of Highgarden.
“That's another thing Loras could help with, too ...”