The boy screamed, screamed for mercy. Mercy that he would not receive.

"You are pathetic. No one will hear you. No one would care." Iona seethed, glaring at the victim who lay crippled on the ground at her feet.
"Why? Why are you doing this?" The boy, who could be no older than thirteen whimpered as Iona resumed to tower over him.

Using the dagger that she had acquired many months ago, from a dead man, she carved a 'v' into the boy's broken leg. The leg that she had jumped on previously to stop him running.
"That is not your place to ask questions. Villagers do not question Ladies." She snapped. Iona was clever - she knew how to get away with what she did... she knew how to cover her tracks. She had to pass her work off as someone elses. Being a Lady helped... being female meant that no one would think she was capable of doing it.

The little village boy cried and screamed for help as she peeled the flap of skin back, tearing it away from his body.
"You did a bad thing. And crimes do not go unpunished."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
His feeble pleads gave Iona so much satisfaction that she found it hard to stop. But she knew she had to, if she was gone to long people would worry and then they'd look.

She twiddled the dagger between her fingers and sighed, looking smugly down at the boy.
"Now... do I kill you, or cut out your tongue."
"Kill me! Kill me, please!" He cried.
That would be too easy. So Iona did both. She grinned as she cut out his tongue and watch his cries turn to gurgles until she cut his throat and was done with it.

Her horse, that she had left a short walk away from the scene was undisturbed by the screaming. She supposed that it had gotten used to it now. Iona only had a handful of rules, and it included only ever hurting humans and bugs - but never animals.

She took the horse and herself to the small creek and washed her hands and blade. She was always careful, and never got blood on her tunic and breeches. She was only allowed to wear these clothes if riding - it was the only time her mother allowed her to be out of a dress.

She jumped onto her horse and galloped back to Winterfell. She took a different route to make it appear as if she had come from the opposite direction that she actually had. The corpse would be discovered eventually, but a hill tribe or a wilding or such, or maybe even one of the people of Winterfell, who would know the boy and with it being so far away, and even further north it would be assumed that a wildling or hilltribe did it.

To everyone of Winterfell, including her family, she had simply gone out horseriding. She had tricked the boy out of Winterfell, without anyone else knowing. She was good like that, she was had the dagger concealed within her breeches, strapped to her thigh.

Into the main courtyard of Winterfell she stopped her horse and dismounted, letting the stable boys take him.
Her direwolf met her halfway. Her older brother had brought her back the wolf after a beheading of a deserter. Her other siblings had received one too.
There was nothing special about her wolf. Her half brother had the best looking one, with snow white fur and red eyes. He had named it Ghost.
With no original features Iona had called her Lyall.
Iona ruffled the fur on her head and walked off, Lyall obediently following at her heel.

It was as soon as she entered through the gates that her act began again.
Arya ran up to her and joined her walk. "Can I come next time?"
"No." She said firmly, "You know mother barely let's me go. I would if I could... Maybe when you are older."
"But that is not fair!" Arya whined.
"Yes, but those are mothers rules."
"Can you at least convince her to let me wear clothes other than dresses every so often?"
"You should do that yourself if you really want to."
"I have tried!" Arya pushed, "She won't listen."
"Give her a reason to listen. Earn her trust... I know you've been creating havoc for a while." She said, trying to sound mature, but she couldn't help but smile.
Arya huffed and ran off again.

She weaved in and out of the people, who were setting up any last minute preparations necessary for the King's arrival. It would be any day now.
The rumours she'd heard about the Prince were shocking. Well, that's what she made people think. They were brilliant! If he was really as sadistic as everyone made him out to be, they would get along perfectly.
Mayhaps, even one day, she could rule beside him as Queen. That would be truly magnificent.

With her wolf following by her ankles, she escaped to her chambers. Iona threw herself onto her bed and let out a big huff of breath. Her wolf hopped on beside her, and rested its head on her stomach, mimicking her owners sigh.

A while later, there was a short knock on the door - a knock Iona had come to recognise as her handmaidens. Calling for her to come in, she propped herself up on her elbows so she was able to see properly.

"Good Afternoon, m'lady."
"Yes. Rane, will you run me a bath please?"
"Of course, m'lady" The woman, who was two years older than Iona approached her and saw her state of dress. "You lie on your bed fully clothed m'lady, your riding clothes. Would you not like to change into a lighter dress?"
"Mayhaps after I bath. Mother will want me dressed appropriately for dinner."

As she bathed, her only thoughts mulled over who she could trick into the forest next. There was a man who had been oogling at her handmaiden, Rane, at every opportunity he had. Whenever Rane escorted her in the courtyard, if he was there, he would stare at her as if he were undressing her with his eyes. Rane was aware of it too - when his gaze was upon her, Iona could feel the uncomfort rolling off her in could she trick a man who was at least thirty years older than her? With false promises.