Chapter 1

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jenny would dance with her ghosts
The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones who had loved her the most

The ones who'd been gone for so very long
She couldn't remember their names
They spun her around on the damp old stones
Spun away all her sorrow and pain…"

Drin stopped singing when someone started to clap. She wasn't happy about that, her father wanted her to practice until supper. He wanted her to impress the northern lords.

"Bravo," Ramsay cheered. "Well done, sister."

"Thank you," she replied calmly.

Ramsay was grinning as he approached her. She knew better than anyone how unpredictable he was, but she had also learned not to show him any fear. Of course, she understood how dangerous he was, she wasn't a fool, but she was very good at hiding her feelings. So good that some people called her the Ice Princess of Dreadfort.

"It seems that all your practicing hasn't gone to waste," Ramsay hummed.

"I am trying my best," she replied.

Ramsay smiled while touching her blond curls.

"I bet you are. So, is it official yet?"

She didn't have to ask what he was talking about; she knew perfectly well.

"I don't know. Father hasn't said anything."

She held still as Ramsay circled her like a predator stalking his prey.

"You think you deserve it?" he asked smiling.

"I didn't ask for it," she replied.

Ramsay was still smiling as he grabbed her chin.

"You expect me to believe that?"

She kept her face completely blank as she met his cold glare.

"It is the truth."

Ramsay stared at her for a moment before letting go.

"Not that it matters," he snorted. "You do know father only wants so legitimize you so he can sell you to some fat old lord."

"Yes, I am aware of that," she replied.

Ramsay looked at her callous face and burst into laughter.

"That poor lord," he chuckled. "He thinks he will get a pretty little wife, but instead he will get an icicle."

Drin didn't reply to that and she didn't move when Ramsay stepped so close to her that his face was almost touching hers.

"I wonder if there's a way to make you melt…"

"Careful, brother," she stated. "I doubt that neither of us wants to displease father."

"Oh, I don't think that he would mind," Ramsay hummed. "Someone should teach you how to please that fat lord of yours."

"Someone has," she replied and took a step back. "If you recall, I had a septa."

"That's right, you did. What was her name again… Sibyl? Seyla?"

"Silla," she corrected, although they both knew that Ramsay remembered her name perfectly well.

"It was such a shame what happened to her," Ramsay hummed.

"Yes, it was."

"Poor woman, such a tragic accident."

"Yes."

Ramsay observed her emotionless mask, hoping to see some small crack. He wouldn't see any. She had worn her mask as long as she could remember, and she had learned how to suppress her feelings. That had been the only way to survive in Dreadfort. Of course, she knew how to smile, she had been taught how a lady was supposed to smile, but she didn't think that any of her smiles had ever been genuine.

"Well, it's good that you are ready to be presented to the potential buyers," Ramsay stated. "And I'm sure you are happy to know that I will also join you and father to Winterfell."

Drin placed one of those ladylike smiles on her face.

"I am indeed happy about that, brother."

"Oh Drin," Ramsay chuckled. "I must admit that I will miss you."

She kept the smile on her face as she kissed his cheek.

"I will miss you too, brother."

Perhaps in some twisted way that was true. This was the only home she had ever known, and Ramsay and their father were her only family. Granted, they weren't a good family, but still a family. Her life here had been far from perfect, but she had somehow gotten used to it over the years. She knew how this game was played. Being married off to some stranger was a whole new game.