[taking it all in stride is far preferable to the dithering Margaery often saw among her fellow new arrivals. this is where they are, no, there's nothing they can do about it, and yes, it's for an indeterminate length of time.

and it's far preferable to being dead and gone with little to show for it.

so when the other woman calls out, complimenting her nice tushy (nice of her to notice it), she goes over with a smile]

I suppose I can't turn down an invitation like that. [a pause] Margaery Tyrell, Queen Consort of Westeros. And who might you be?