The dungeons of the Dreadfort were no stranger to the cries and screams of innocent men and women. But never before had they echoed so loudly - not from a highborn lady at least.

Ramsay has tortured his fair share of men, women, and animals alike. But he has never had his hands on such a prized piece of meat. The only daughter of king Stannis Baratheon and lady Melisandre. He chuckled to himself, wondering how anyone could call such a coward a king.

"My, my. My men will be rewarded greatly for this one", he twiddled his hands in a clapping gesture as he stared the young woman up and down with his cold eyes.

She was beautiful - even the Bolton bastard could appreciate that. At only 5'3", her figure was petite, but her toned legs and arms were evidence of her affinity for horse riding and archery. Her facial features were alluring yet sharp, her ice green eyes both seductive and full of fury.

"You know, I truly wish you had your mother's hair", he stepped closer to her, pushing the long dark waves from her face.

She failed to pull away, chains binding her to a large wooden stake in the middle of the room. "Why, if you did, maybe you would be less of a sore to my eyes."

She knew he was lying. She had seen the women that accompanied him; they were all homely with scarred flesh. Eve knew what men and women alike saw in her. Since she blossomed at age fifteen, many suitors begged Stannis for her hand with offers of land and gold. Now, just a week past her eighteenth name day, she was even more beautiful than her mother had ever been.

Ramsay circled her drenched body, chuckling to himself at her earlier ignorance. Who would try to swim away from men on boats? Only a dull lady, of course.

"Why did you run? Don't you want to be my little plaything? It's quite a privilege, you know."

Eve shuddered and squirmed in the chains, her back splintering from the wood behind her. "Please, let me go!" she begged as tears ran down her pale face.

Ramsay stood and watched with a large smile. To think that he was worried she wouldn't put up a fight.

"That's a good girl. I like a challenge", he stepped closer to her and gripped his hands on the top of her once beautiful gown. With one swift movement, he ripped it down the middle and let it fall off of her petite frame.

She closed her eyes tightly, praying to wake up and find that this was all just a wicked dream.

"Ramsey, sir! Please," she begged again. All pride she once had seemed to disappear with every word she pleaded.

"I am a lady! My father will pay! Anything you want!"

His eyes jumped around the room before landing back on her. "Oh, you poor soul," he began to circle her. His eyes seemed empathetic but she knew it was all just play.

"Your father isn't alive. Half of my men were able to take his whole army. You'd think the King would be better at combat."

Eve stared to the ground and began crying again. Her father was the only person she had ever trusted - the only man who wanted nothing from her other than her simple presence. She knew her mother never loved her and would have sacrificed her to the Lord of Light had Stannis not stopped her. Her only confidant was gone.

"You cunt!" she screamed, taking Ramsay by surprise. Her legs flailed and wrists began to bleed against the rusty chains that bound her.

"Kill me! Fucking kill me!"

Ramsay pretended to consider it. He knew that he would not kill her - he had so many plans for the two of them. He turned toward the exit of the dungeon and began laughing loudly, each cackle more malicious than the last.

Before his body had exited entirely, he called back to the shivering figure in the darkness. "You think I'd kill you? No, my dear. But you'll wish that I had."