Reign (Book 2)

20

Ramsay

Grimm snarled at the prisoners, his golden eyes were piercing into them as he flickered between them. Oliver was on the X pyre in the centre of the room. The others were safe in their cells, for now. "Grimm, sit." Phillip commanded. The beast followed his orders. "Good lad Phillip, I think he likes you." I praised. "Maybe he can tell that your son will be the greatest King in the word one day." Oliver sarcastically remarked. "I would watch your mouth, if I was you." I responded, my tone as calm as my stature. "You didn't see what this dog did to your friends." I arched my brow. "But you will." I promised him. Charlie was watching through the bars of his cell, the Maester had patched him up, he would remain in there until he was executed, until they were all executed for their crimes.

The young boy cowered as the massive dog howled and bared his massive teeth. Phillip's knuckles were white with the grip he had on the lead. His hand was trembling slightly, but only I could see it as I was stood so close. His face was like stone and his wintery blue eyes scanned the people before him. He looked like a King, he looked strong and brave, he had the Bolton death stare that I had, and my father before me. "Grimm, come." He spoke. His voice was cool and collected. He took steps forward towards Oliver on the Pyre. Grimm followed, his gigantic paws matching Phillip's every step, he was salivating at the mouth and his pupils were like pinheads. Oliver looked very uneasy as they approached. His gaze flitted between the dog and my son. His fingers curled with every step they took, his restricted hands were tense, there was a thin coat of sweat shining off his palms.

"You and your people betrayed my family. You had my sister attacked. Beaten and raped. You had a knife shoved through my fathers ribcage and shot an arrow into my Uncle Jon. You tricked my mother, she went out alone into the dark because of you. She was vulnerable and grieving, after all she thought my father was dead." Oliver gulped as the dangerous duo stood in front of him. My fingers twitched, craving the feeling of skin peeling back off a body. "Your men held my mother captive, they did unspeakable things to her. Your Queen. You allowed this to happen." Out of all the prisoners, Phillip seemed to have a hatred towards Oliver most. "She's not my Queen, she's a whore who just happened to be born into a powerful house. She betrayed me, all of the Northern people by marrying the Bolton Bastard." He spat. My son lost his temper and dropped the lead and sliced at his neck with a knife. He started underneath his jaw and cut downwards. Oliver screamed, Phillip's chest began to rise and fall rapidly. The blood pumping from the man's jugular splattered across his face and neck.

"The last face you will ever see, is mine. The last voice you will ever hear, is mine. You people may think I'm a soft touch and as honourable as my maternal grandfather, but you don't know shit. I'll kill you all, I'll show you who I really am." Phillip looked down at Grimm, who was sat by his feet, waiting for the command. "Kill." He ordered. He took a step back and the dog jumped him, his paws on Oliver's shoulders. He screamed, and it was bloodcurdling. My lips turned up into a smirk, it was like watching a younger me. Phillip's face was emotionless as he watched Grimm ripping at Oliver's throat. The blood splattered the floor and there was a metallic smell in the musty air of the dungeon. Belle screamed in terror, her hand flying up to her hair as she tugged. She knew her fate, and she was terrified. She turned on Ava, someone she had know since she was just a girl. The old woman would have seen her playing with dolls or clinging to her fathers furs as they walked together. Yet she turned on her years later.

"Shut up. I'm tired of hearing you squeal." Phillip snapped, turning his attention to Belle. "I'm sorry Lord B-Bolton." She stuttered, wincing in anticipation and fear. "This is what happens when you mess with House Bolton. It's a lesson you'll only be taught once." His tone was threatening as he gazed through her. Grimm was still ripping chunks out of Oliver, he had gone limp a few moments before. "Put what's left of him in a river, he doesn't deserve a burial." My son ordered the bannermen stood at the door. "Grimm, down." He commanded. He took the lead in his hands and he stomped away. I laughed cruelly at the remainder of our prisoners in the cells before I jogged after my son. As we ascended the stairs, we conversed a little. I told him how proud I was, he apologised for losing his temper and killing Oliver.