'So how is it going?' asks Alfie, jumping back.

My sword stabs at the air right beside him. 'Better than I thought.'

He tries to get closer, but I obviously manage to keep my guard up.

'Housework keep me occupied,' I explain, putting my hair back behind the ear, 'And I also have to be available whenever Roose calls, since Helàna is in charge of looking after every whim of the bastard.'

'Ramsay,' he corrects me, hitting my sword.

I roll my eyes. 'He is not even here, for all the gods! Why are you so scared of him?'

'I'm not scared of him,' he shrugs his shoulders, attacking with slightly more strength.

'Yes, you are,' I tease him, parrying every single blow, 'Poor little you! Alfie is afraid of the bastard.'

'Aileen, stop it!' he bites his lip, annoyed. 'Have you even seen him?'

'Not yet,' I jump behind him, touching his back with the sword. 'Touché', I casually add, 'But I'll see him tonight since I'll be serving dinner.'

Alfie bursts in laughter. 'They are letting you serve the dinner I'll cook? You? The eternal dropper?'

'Number one: yes, they are,' I step forward, threatening him with my sword, 'Number two: I am not a dropper,' I corner him by the wall, 'and number three,' I strike a powerful thrust that gets his weapon to fly on the ground, 'I am better than you even with the sword.'

He smiles. 'Well, it's not fair: you have been taught by a Stark.'

'By Jon, so technically I have been taught by a Snow,' I shrug my shoulders, 'But yes, he has the Starks blood.'

'And so do you,' he adds in a smirk.

'Yes, but I'd keep that in my veins,' I firmly explain for the hundredth time, 'rather than showing off for the noble half of my blood and see it spread somewhere in return.'

…..

'Don't talk to them, my darling,' explains Helàna once more, combing my hair and giving a quick caress on my left cheek. 'Just stay in the background, bring wine only when they ask you or make a gesture at you. You have to be prompt, but you have to do so without staring at them too much.'

I let out a sigh. 'Sure, Helana. I'll just look at your moves first'.

Don't stare. Be invisible. For all the gods, where the hell am I?

Why do they all worry so much about every-single-thing?

Anyway, we enter the massive, poorly lit dining room, where we had previously prepared only two settings of cutlery on the ridiculously long table, that could have hoisted at least a dozen more people.

Roose is already sitting there, with his black and greyish noble clothes and his serious gaze.

When I pour some wine into his glass, though, he smiles at me.

A brief smile, but smile he does.

I was very worried about Roose Bolton, before entering the Dreadfort for the first time and, to tell the truth, I don't trust him at all, but at least I think he has a soft spot for me somehow, and this is good.

I am still following Alfie's advice, taking the whole thing as a show, and in my show, if I want to survive without too much trouble, it's better to have the protection of the Lord of the castle.

After a few minutes, the bastard comes.

Yes, I know Helana told me not to stare, but I am far too curious: after all, I have heard so many stories about him, and some seem too horrible to be true –sometimes bored peasants tend to make things sound bigger than they are-. And Alfie's warnings about him are undermining my mental health, so the least I can do is study the guy.

I was expecting a monster, covered in blood of something –thank you Alfie, you are making me paranoid-, but he actually looks like a normal person: he is pretty much my age, maybe two or three years older; taller than me obviously, but not massively; his hair looks dark, but when he sits at the candlelit table I see lighter shades. His eyes… yes, maybe his eyes are the only actual scary part of him: they are stunning, light blue, but they look like they are made of ice.

'You are late,' moans Roose.

'Sorry, father. I was busy hunting. Didn't realise it was so late,' and he makes a quick gesture at the glass, at which I promptly get closer to fill it up, as Helana instructed me. The bastard doesn't see me at first: unlike his father, he doesn't raise his eyes, nor smile. He takes a sip of the scarlet wine and then completely forgets about it for the rest of the first course.

Helana and I clear the empty plates and that's probably when he notices me, because when I come back from the kitchen with another dish his cold eyes are already on me.

He too looks… curious, I'd say.

Maybe he didn't even know there was a new maid.

My first instinct is to proudly stare back, but then I remember Helana's rules and, reluctantly, lower my eyes.

Staring at the table, I see him grabbing the forgotten glass: he drinks it all at once and with a casual gesture invites me to top it up again.

I do as he wishes, and silently step back beside Helana.

I am not even listening to his conversation with Roose, since I am sure it's just boring noble stuff.

A page boy knocks at the door and, apologizing, interrupts dinner briefly, getting Roose to read a message.

Ramsay takes the opportunity to turn left and gaze at me: without taking that mocking smirk off his face, he drinks up the wine again and repeats the same gesture.

My fingers clutch the pitcher until the knuckles get white. What a spoiled bloke.

'Don't look angry,' hisses Helana trying to sound calm. For some reason, it looks like she is not.

So I take a deep breath and quickly pour some more wine, trying not to get too close.

They go back to their dinner, a juicy dish of chicken and vegetables.

Alfie gave me a taste before: he says we have to enjoy it while we still can, since winter is coming and food won't be as tasty as it now, if we get any food at all.

He is always so dramatic.

A few minutes later, Roose finishes his first glass of wine and invites me to fill it up. As I approach them to do my job, Ramsay calmly cuts another piece of chicken. As soon as I leave the table, he drinks up the wine all at once, again, and lifts up the glass expecting me to refill it.

Couldn't he have done it literally ten seconds before, without me having to walk away and than back?!

Stupid spoiled bastard.

I remember the 'show', so I wear my fakest smile and go back to the table to pour some more wine.

…

'The only bad thing about my bedroom,' I sigh, embracing the cold nightly breeze, 'is that I can't really see the moon from its tiny window.'

Alfie and I are laying on the hay by the stalls, like we used to do when we still lived by Winterfell, looking at the moon.

Whatever problem I have, I always feel at least slightly better when I stare at the moon.

I think it began when I was about ten. Jon and I got lost in the woods at night. I thought it was funny at first, but after two hours of hopeless wandering I had started to panic.

'Jon, I… I am scared.'

'Shhh, it's ok,' he had whispered, hugging me and wrapping me in his black cape. 'Look up there, look at the moon', he added. 'You can't be scared under such a beautiful moon.'

So, after that night, I have always felt the need to take some time to keep quiet under the moon, almost daily. It makes me feel safe, relaxed. And it's almost like receiving a hug from Jon, wherever he is.

'How was dinner?'

I had almost forgotten about Alfie right next to me, his blond hair barely visible in the moonlight.

'Boring,' I admit, turning my head to look at him. 'But the chicken was good, chef.'

He smiles. 'Did you meet Ramsay?'

'Yeah. He is not as scary as you say, but he looks so… arrogant,' I spit out in disgust.

'Just promise me you won't…' he seems to think of an appropriate word, 'mess around with him.'

I furrow my eyebrows. 'Why would I mess around with him?'

'Because he messes around with girls a lot and… sometimes they don't come back.'

'You mean like… they leave, or they die?'

'People say he hunts them,' he pulls a very serious look, 'in the woods. Like animals.'

I burst out in laughter. 'Oh come on, Alfie! It's nonsense! You should stop believing whatever people tell you.'

'And you should start believing what I try to warn you about,' he hisses.

'Have you ever seen him hunting girls?' raising an eyebrow.

'Well, no… but!'

'Keep believing in monsters and dragons, then.'

'Dragons do exist, you clever girl.'

'No, they did,' I specify, going back to staring at the pale moon, keeping quiet. 'But I do believe in a monster who is about to punch you if you don't shut up.'

He smiles. 'You never change, Aileen.'

And while I relax, admiring the sky and stars, I suddenly remember Ramsay mentioning some hunting at dinner, but… nah.

Come on, it can't be what Alfie says.

….

Hello everyone, I am back!

So Aileen has finally met the bastard (lucky her! No, ok, I know Ramsay is not a good character, but I can't help loving him haha)

What do you think of him so far?

I want to thank Wombat8, wengmz, The shadow next to you, Snapsnap24131, ItzNikkiBlack, Hermione Voldemort and Unstoppably-demonic, for following my story.

If someone wanted to leave a quick review, it'd be awesome and really helpful for me for the next chapter.

Love x

Sunshine Hamilton