"Very satisfied," Sansa says softly. She feels a little shy now and tugs the sheet up a bit so she doesn't get cold. She reaches her hand out and traces idle patterns against the skin of his back. She's utterly fascinated with him - how he looks, how he moves, how he feels under her hands. She thinks she's very lucky to have him for a husband, king or not.

"Are you? Satisfied?"

It seems that he very well is, if his smile is any indication. He seems relaxed and happy so far as she's concerned and that's overwhelmingly important to her in a way she cannot explain.