You’re sitting in your chambers, reading a book in the window seat, listening to the chirping cicadas and hooting owls while the moon shines gently over the gardens. Then the door bursts open and Margaery paces in, looking agitated. You give a half-smile while looking up, already knowing what this is about. She had married Renly, and you, her childhood friend-turned-lover, had married her brother Loras, turning into a strange quartet. But it was the perfect arrangement, for Renly and Loras, you and Margaery to be lovers. You knew, however, of Margaery’s aspirations, how she wasn’t satisfied with her position. For now she was set on having Renly’s heir, but you can tell she was unsuccessful today. Is it me? Her normally calm, tranquil voice is sharp and rough. Am I that undesirable?