Her cooking had improved greatly. Robb's, unfortunately, was as abysmal as ever, and with his reluctance these last days to visit the brightness and bustle of the inn, he'd had little enough to eat. He reached for the bowl now, glad to have the distraction of forcing it down.

"As much as could be expected," he answered around bites, which was to say very little at all. He paused, licking at his lips, and slid a worn glance Margaery's way.

"You ought to stay here," he began, and then halted, reconsidering his phrasing. "Would you stay here? I don't like the idea of you all alone... and I'd like to have you here with me."

She valued her independence, that Robb knew quite well, but she too had lost someone, even if they hadn't precisely been family. Claire had been her friend, Sansa as well, and she'd been very fond of his father.

"It needn't be permanent."