Spit in his face. (F)

"Burn in hell!" you snap, proceeding to spit in the Young Wolf's face. His cockiness quickly boils over into anger.

"You little bitch!" he roars, slapping you across the face with the back of a gloved hand. You yelp from the impact and wince from the pain. He hits harder than you thought. Tears well up in your eyes, but pride holds you back from shedding them. Your cheek goes red from where he struck you. "Aw, is the little lioness going to cry? You should've thought about that before you spat in my face, you slut," he reprimands.

Unexpectedly, your door is flung open again and in walks a woman carrying a crossbow. She had thick, softly curling brown hair, large brown eyes, pale, smooth skin, and a slender, but womanly figure. "Having fun, boys? And without me?" she asks giving a playful pout. She cocks her crossbow in your direction and smiles, a crooked smile but a smile nonetheless. "Lady John! What a pleasant surprise?" she acknowledges you.

"Lady Margaery," you gasp.