The chill of the air, brought on by fresh evening snow, was not felt within the chambers where Roose Bolton held his court. Yet Aurelia could not help feel it regardless. She had been welcomed by many, though Roose kept his emotions a mask as he had always done. He remained blank-faced, even docile in announcing to the hall the assassination of the Hand of the King and chaos in King's Landing. In some ways, Aurelia's arrival could not have come at a better time. Loathe as some Northern lords may have been to accept continued rule by the Boltons, there was no manner in which they could gain or hope for support from the south now. Only the Freys seemed wary, moreso after she had gone to see Lord Manderly.
The Lord of White Harbor had survived his ordeal, and Roose had yet to declare punishment. For now, being in a cramped chamber with a mediocre maester seemed punishment enough for the formerly jovial, talkative man. Aurelia's visit was a shock, as he had not been kept informed of goings on. She kept her visit short, an offer of condolence for all he had lost, and a few whispers to not lose hope. He nearly wept at her parting, barely able to craft sounds as he healed, but Aurelia knew she had another ally.
Allies were not proving to be the problem. Convincing Roose Bolton she only had a single agenda was. Presently, he paced around the room, calm as ever, his gaze unceasing in its study of her.
"As discussed through our correspondence, your terms are agreeable enough, and your position seems clear."
"You sound wary still, my lord." Aurelia tracked Roose, trying to keep herself at ease.
"I am wary by nature. And it is troubling, the shifting of your alliances."
"Come now, father," Ramsay sighed. "We're alone. Let's be out with it."
He rose from his chair, striding toward Aurelia.
"My father killed your first fiance. The snow will kill Stannis if we don't do it first, and any romantic notions you might have harboured at being rescued by the murderers and thieves of the Night's Watch, well... I understand perfectly your position and your designs. My father might fear revenge, but all I see is a lady of good breeding with terrible luck and choice in masters. Until now."
She gave a small smile to Ramsay. "There you are right, my lord. The only aspect you miss is possibly the one making Lord Roose uneasy."
She looked back to Roose. "What you did to Robb Stark was deplorable, but this realm has seen much of that in recent times. My revenge is to see Winterfell restored. To see it again as a beacon of society and justice in the North. For that there is much work to be done, but I believe you have as much invested in the legacy of this seat as I do."
Roose considered before replying. "Ramsay, this is your opportunity to speak out. Is this what you desire?"
"You didn't ask me last time," he scoffed.
"I am asking you now," Roose said. Aurelia nearly shuddered, remembering the quiet voice from Robb's tent and on the field. Her gaze returned to Ramsay, placid, yielding. He smiled at her again, a flash of perverse joy as his eyes ran over her form.
"Lady Aurelia," Ramsay said, stepping to her, taking her hand. "I would be honored if you would be my wife and together we will restore Winterfell to the glory it deserves."
She gave a small curtsey. "I am happy to accept."
The plans for their wedding progressed quickly since they were no longer bound to request permission from King's Landing. A raven was sent, nonetheless, but even Roose did not appear to desire to wait for any response. Aurelia was permitted to send ravens on behalf of House Bolton to some of the Houses who had not had representation at the last wedding, House Mormont chief among them. She included within her note the support of her new bodyguard, Maege, in all things. She hoped the young Lyanna and her councillors would divine the message within those words.
Maege was more a blessing than Aurelia anticipated. She became confidant and guard, though they rarely spoke more than a few sentences a day to one another. Maege had assured her of Jon's security and kept an eye on the Bolton watches. Aurelia had secured Maege's loyalty in service to Robb and she vowed to reward that loyalty when the time came. Maege brushed it off, yet Aurelia knew even through the woman's gruff exterior that she appreciated the gesture, and would hold Aurelia to it.
The Umbers were first to offer their congratulations in audience, followed by Maege, the remaining Glovers and Karstarks, and finally the Freys. Yet there was one guest for the wedding Aurelia prayed to arrive night and day. She was praying four days prior to her nuptials when Ramsay strode into her chamber.
As Ramsay entered, nausea overtook her. He tested her limits of patience and self-discipline like nothing she'd experienced before.
She stilled her mind as Ramsay approached her. His smile, cold and devious, hiding little.
"Hello, beloved," he said, as though reciting poetry without caring to comprehend the words, just knowing it needed saying.
She stood and moved to him, dutiful. She then raised herself up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "How are you this evening?"
The mask had not slipped in his presence yet, and she would be damned if something like her own inability to put aside her personal rage and disgust derailed their plans.
Ramsay wrapped an arm around her waist. "I will be in better spirits when we can dispense with the small talk upon my arrival in our chambers each night."
At the mention of 'our chambers,' Aurelia felt her nostrils flare.
"Something wrong?" He asked.
"No, just thinking of the wedding. The whole concept makes me a bit uneasy. The ceremony of it…"
"It will end better than the last wedding you were to be a part of, I can promise you that," he grinned. "My father will see to it that everything is properly placed for a calm, and quick ceremony," he continued before Aurelia could respond. He shrugged out of the embrace and took off his cloak, tossing it on a large wooden chair. "What is it you wished to speak to me about?"
"Who will represent my father."
Ramsay paused. "You have someone in mind, other than my father?"
"I know he is Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, but the idea of a symbolic father giving me away to wive his son, rather makes it a bit-"
"Incestuous. I'm not actually keen on the idea myself."
"So you agree?"
"My father is a poor choice, particularly to send a message of unifying more than one family. Your father is dead. Your former claimed king is dead. Who do you think it should be?"
"The options aren't many."
Ramsay studied her. "Your practicality at times is almost maddening."
She smiled. "So I've been told."
His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth as though to speak, then seemed to think better of it. He turned toward his clothes and began stripping. "Well, the plainer you speak the more I like you. Who do you have in mind?"
"Lord Reed."
Ramsay laughed. "The green ghost of moss land? You think you can find him, much less have him agree to it? He was Ned Stark's most loyal lord."
"All the more reason to bring him into the fold. The Starks may be gone, but the legacy of Winterfell should be rebuilt to its strength again."
Ramsay pulled on a fresh pair of trousers and turned back to her as he began to lace them up. "You've already asked, haven't you?"
"I asked him to the wedding. Nothing more as of yet."
"Did you now?"
"You can check with the raven master if you like." Ramsay had pulled on a shirt and vest. Aurelia stepped forward and began lacing the vest. "My practicality which seems to vex and intrigue you in equal measure occasionally acts of its own accord. If I've overstepped-"
"You wouldn't sincerely apologize for it anyway, so don't try."
His gaze once again sought to find something within her. Whatever he searched for Aurelia only hope she was giving him what he wanted to see. Above all, she hoped he didn't see the many truths she kept having to bury while in his presence. Among them being the hidden message within her request to Lord Reed.
"Has he replied?"
"He accepted the invitation, yes."
"And if he doesn't want to give you away?"
"One of the Umbers should suffice." Ramsay rolled his eyes. "Left with the choice of Umber, Karstark or Frey, I choose Umber."
She tried to keep the commanding tone from her voice but heard it slip into her words before she could hold it in check. Ramsay's expression shifted for a second before he grinned.
"Completely understandable. Reed or Umber it is." He took his jacket off the edge of the bed and pulled it on after Aurelia had finished lacing the vest. "Now, I must see to some of my father's business. I'll see you at supper. Wear something pretty, will you. Something that shows off those curves of yours so I can gain some enjoyment out of this whole waiting process."
He kissed her cheek and left before her reply of, "I will," had entirely left her lips.
Once his footsteps had faded away, Aurelia took a deep breath and shuddered. Each day she reminded herself that the day of reckoning moved ever closer, and each day it made her more sick to contemplate how that reckoning was to come about. Harder still was to stay out of the crypts, to stave off the temptation to seek solace with him. She wasn't watched constantly, but Roose and Ramsay both had spies on her and she could not, would not, risk all she had put at stake for her own weak desires.
"Soon," was all she could mutter to comfort herself before going to seek out the dressmaker for final alterations to her wedding gown.