Margaery knew what it was like to have a father who didn't give two shits about his kids. Nik pretended to, pretended to love her and care for her and only want the best for her... But she saw right through his facade. The only thing that he actually cared about was himself and she hated him for it. Absolutely hated him for it. She hated her mother too... for siding so easily with the monster instead of actually thinking to help her oldest daughter with any of her issues. Caroline made a lost of mistakes - everyone knew that - but Margaery could never forgive her for choosing her tyrannical husband over her desperate daughter.

A muted sigh fell from parted lips as she entered the Observatory, the faint scent of copper still clinging to her pelt. She had just returned from a late night hunt, ready to retire to bed despite not being tired in the slightest. She could walk around for hours more if she wasn't afraid of worrying her wife or any of their children. But maybe... maybe she could chat with Roman, who she had just spied painting.

Her stance on him was still... undecided, but she figured that she could at least try to understand him. [b]"Hello, Roman," The chocolate point greeted softly, studying his painting intently for a few moments, "Can't sleep either?" This felt wrong. Awkward. Roman was her mother's little secret and yet, here he was and here she was, that ring that Care always used to wear glinting in the faint moonlight. It was like she was with them too, as strange as that was. "Maybe... maybe we should talk."

[b]"How long did you two know each other?"

The question was posed innocently, though there was some underlying edge to her words. She didn't exactly blame Roman for her mother's unfaithfulness (honestly, she couldn't blame her), but it certainly put her in a difficult situation. "I.. I still can't believe that you're actually real... Alive... I'll be honest, you've always been more or less a fairy-tale book character to me- someone you wish you knew but had no means of doing so," She rambled softly, not realizing that she had went on and on - partially contradicting herself - until the words had already left her mouth. "Sorry... I'm... Uh... That wasn't appropriate... I'm not used to these types of conversations."