Sometimes I wonder what it feels like, to live as a noble and actually know what is going on in Westeros. They plot, they make alliances, they betray, they move the strings of hundreds of poor little puppets, and they receive letters and messages to be kept up to date with what is changing on this huge chessboard.

If you are a servant or a farmer, you don't really get to know what is going on, unless it is something really out of the ordinary, like my natural dad's beheading.

It's like living in a bubble, because your reality ends even before the horizon. In my case, it ends with the bridge on the river by the Dreadfort –I obviously do cross the river sometimes, but there's nothing to do there, believe me.

To be honest, I don't usually mind this bubble: I prefer living my life without having to worry about what the Lannisters or the Baratheons do. I admit, though, that lately I have been thinking a lot about the Starks. I wouldn't swap my quiet bubble for all that plotting, and yet I would really like to know how my step-brothers and sisters are. Jon, especially. Has he actually joined the Night's Watch?

I hear people mentioning war sometimes, but it's hard to tell from here.

My only war, at the moment, is with my self control, to keep calm and respectful in front of Ramsay. With Roose it's much easier: he is rude sometimes, but he doesn't really pay attention to his manners. His bastard, on the contrary, masters his skill of being annoying. Not always, at least.

This morning he smiled when we bumped into each other at the door and he even stepped back to let me go first, which I didn't expect.

Alfie says he plays mind games and stuff, so I need to be careful especially when he seems nice. Helana grew an affection for the bastard –don't ask me how that's even possible, because I have no clue-, but at the same time she confirms he can be really dangerous.

'Be always good to him, my darling,' she told me just this morning, brushing my hair and braiding it into two plats held together in a low bun. 'Please.'

To me, he is just a spoiled child.

I see him shortly afterwards, on the stairs.

'Aileen.'

'My Lord.'

He has probably shaven this morning, since yesterday he still had a bit of beard. His hair is slightly untied.

He moves his finger to invite me to follow him. I reluctantly enter his bedroom: it's quite high up, in a tower, and from the window you can see the courtyard. Yet, it's pretty dark.

'I spilled some wine in the corner, there, I need you to clean it.'

'Yes, my Lord.'

Hopefully it's just me being paranoid, but when I kneel down to scrap the red spot I feel his eyes on me. I still pretend that I'm at ease, silently.

'What do you do in the courtyard by night?' he asks, getting closer.

I raise my head to look at him. 'Have you been spying on me, my Lord?'

He smiles. 'If so, would you appreciate or would you be scared?'

I think about it. Not because I'm unsure about the answer, but because I don't know if I should tell the truth. But I do. 'I would be annoyed.'

'And I wouldn't care,' he smiles, the usual icy look in his eyes. 'But I have only seen you because you pass just underneath my window. And you haven't answered my question.'

I sigh. 'I just like looking at the moon.'

'Why?'

I won't obviously tell him that it's because of Jon. I just shrug my shoulders. 'It makes me feel at home, somehow.'

'But why do you go out?'

'Because I can't really see it from my bedroom.'

'You can come and watch it here,' he smirks, pointing at his window. 'I wouldn't mind.'

Not even if you doubled my pay, I think, clutching the cloth even stronger. Silently, I clean up the rest of the spot and I step up. 'My job is done, my Lord,' I quickly say, to get out of this conversation. I bow and rush to the door.

Before I can reach it, though, I feel everything sliding away and a slight pain hits me in the back: I realise Ramsay's slammed me to the wall, his body blocking mine.

His cold eyes are staring at me. He does look scary, so close, but still I stare back with pride.

'What did I tell you few days ago, Aileen?'

'To behave,' I breath out, biting my tongue. 'My Lord,' I add, disgusted.

'And does abandoning a conversation sound like behaving, to you?'

I shake my head no.

He opens his mouth to say something, but we are interrupted by the familiar sound of the bell.

'Your father is calling me.'

'He can wait.'

'No! That's my job.'

'Helana can do it.'

'She is in charge of looking after you, I need to be there quickly when your father calls.'

He gets even closer, his lips slightly open in a crooked smile. 'Well,' he breaths out, 'we'll need to change that, won't we?'

My right hand moves slowly towards the door, or at least I thought I was moving it slowly: he somehow notices it, even if his eyes are still in mine. Without looking away, he firmly clutches my wrist and pins it up on the wall above my head.

The bell rings again.

I look away and bite my lip to ignore the pain he is causing me, but the smirk on his face makes me realise that he is well aware of it. The pressure gets even stronger.

'Why can't you just behave like all the others do, mmh?' he pulls out a fake pout, moving his head to catch my eyes again. I bite my lip to ignore the pain on the wrist, looking away again. 'Answer, Aileen. I'm talking to you!'

'Aileen.'

Ramsay and I turn our face on the right at the same time. Roose is here.

I look at him with hope.

'I had to call her twice,' he spits out, annoyed, but not to me: to his bastard. 'Let her go.'

He reluctantly lets go of my wrist, stepping back.

'Come downstairs, Aileen,' says Roose.

'Yes, my Lord,' I bow, relieved.

I leave Ramsay behind me, following his father, who has quickly left the room.

'He won't be always here to protect you,' I hear the bastard whisper in my ear.

'I work for him,' I spit out, looking at him with disgust, 'Of course he will be here.'

'We'll see, darling. We'll see.'

…

Hello, people of Westeros!

A massive THANK YOU to Aleesha513, Lumay16 (your English is great, by the way, stop worrying about it :) !) and the unknown guest who left a review. That really means a lot!

Also, thanks Kat1894, salvatoresister887, MarishkaTheUnderdog, katyha and mpowers045 for following me into the crazy chambers of the Dreadfort!

Also, is Ramsay right? Will Roose stick around for long? Well, we actually know the answer, don't we…

Careful, Aileen!

Xxx

Sunshine Hamilton