of-roses-and-thorns:

Margaery peered down, squinting her eyes to try and distinguish exactly who it was, “Yes, why I believe you are correct. My you do have a good eye.” She teased, chuckling at the younger girl. She did have excellent taste though, there was something quite charming about him. Margaery though, turned her attention back to the young man who was obviously new. She had not seen him before and he was certainly grittier then the other men present. 

“Well I certainly know who I wish to win,” her words were swift as her eyes admired. She could see Sansa feeling quite similar though she seemed shy about such feelings as a blush spread upon her cheek.

:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::

             "He does well to capture mine,“
       Sansa admits with a shy tint on her
       cheeks. She’s feeling bold to admit
       as such to Margaery but it gives her
       a thrill to be able to say that, let the
       winds carry her words to him. Then,
       our young knight takes up a stance
       against his more weathered opponent.

              Sansa turns to Margaery. Out of
       the corner of her eyes, she can see 
       them begin to swing. It glints like live
       steel but the edges are blunt. Sansa
       speaks only loud enough for her words
       to travel to Margaery despite the ringing.

               ”How about a wager, my dear
       friend. We seem to be cheering on
       opposites, after all.“