"House Tyrell?" The words sound more like an accusation than an echo, and his mind furiously attempts to regather what it is he knows about the Tyrells: Ser Loras, the Knight of the Flowers, his relationship with Renly; Renly showing Ned a golden locket, inside of which was a portrait of a beautiful maiden, whom he'd claimed looked like Ned's sister, Lyanna; Robert mentioning the sister of Ser Loras, a maiden 'lovely as the dawn;' Renly claiming ownership of the crown in a traitorous usurping of Stannis with the support of House Tyrell.

She's older than she had been when he'd first heard of her from Robert, and when he'd seen the painted portrait of her inside of Renly's locket. She is lovely, only a blind fool would deny that (and even then, perhaps not) - but Ned is quick to remember that the sun, though beautiful at dawn, can blind those who gaze upon it too long, can set fire to brush like kindling. He wonders just how like the sun Margaery might be.

The sudden deluge of memory makes his back stiffen, forcing him to stand more upright than he has been. He has no reason to dislike Margaery, especially given that he's never had the opportunity to meet her before, but her affiliation with the Tyrells (knowing their desire for power) is a little less than warming. Still, old courtesies are hard to break - and so, he bows his head in mutual respect, hand at his waist, pausing for a moment before straightening.

"I'd be quick to say the same of you," he replies carefully. "Indeed, your reputation precedes you."