The image of Margaery's hands clasped over his own gave Robb pause, his eyes fixed on the image, his throat gone dry. His brow pinched as he wrestled with himself, the feeling of her fingers warm and temptingly familiar.

"Don't apologize," he said at length, and looked up to her eyes again. "You're a good woman, Margaery." Doubtless better than he ever deserved. "I know you only mean well. I oughtn't have laughed, it's only..."

He trailed off, finally extracting his hand from hers to push his fingers restlessly through his hair as his gaze skipped off to the trees. "It's the alternative to weeping, I suppose," he quietly admitted.