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"It’s Prince Jon!" Elinor hisses, nudging Margaery so hard in the ribs she nearly chokes on the bite of oatmeal she’s just taken.
The crown prince and future king is sitting two tables away with Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy, looking so plainly miserable at the attention he was receiving from entering the dining hall that Margaery would’ve laughed if he didn’t bear a striking resemblance to a drowned puppy.
"I’ve heard he’s already dating Alys Karstark."
"And I’m sure Alys Karstark is the one who started that little rumor." Margaery takes a sip of her coffee. "There’s no way the queen will allow him to marry a commoner, not after all the trouble with his mother."
"Princess Lyanna wasn’t a commoner."
"The only daughter of some minor lord from the North country is as good as common. She certainly wasn’t an actual princess like Elia." Margaery waves her hand. "And if it wasn’t for Aegon crashing his car into that wall, Jon wouldn’t even be the king someday."
"The heir and the spare," Elinor agrees before sighing. "But he is an awfully attractive spare, isn’t he?”
Margaery smiles, gathering her tray and bag. ”I certainly wouldn’t kick him out of bed.”