There's already a telltale flush to Margaery's cheeks when she approaches Astarion, although in true, ladylike fashion, nothing else appears to be rumpled or out of place on her person. She's been watching him across the room, caught between twirling with lords and friends and waiting for the perfect opportunity to catch a moment together.

But her steps pause to take in the sight of him - a little bit of theatrics and a lot of genuine appreciation - before she curtsies like she would for a lord. "You look wonderful," is her greeting, as easy as anything, for stroking Astarion's ego often feels much like petting a cat. And it helps that she's able to be honest: the dark colors and the gold help bring out the lively red of his eyes, and with his silver hair and the stately embroidery, he's impossible to miss even with all the finery surrounding them.

A servant passes by with a tray of wineglasses and she manages to flag him down, taking two with a soft thank you and turning to offer one to Astarion.

"Why is it that you're not where you deserve to be, at the very center of attention?"