WELL FLAYED [Game Of Thrones: The Boltons]

2. Snow Bride

LADY NISHA EYED THE BRUISE around her neck in front of her mirror.

It marred her soft skin with dark hues like a collar. It was ugly, and it was not fading any sooner. With a hopeless sigh, she hid it under the high-buttoned neckline that reached below her chin.

Ramsay had been gentle to her and hadn't touched her after that fateful night. He knew she needed time to recover after carelessly taking her maidenhead. He did try to make up to her- but her love for him was tainted now by mistrust.

Strangling her near to death left such effect. Everytime he would hold her, she would recoil. Everytime he would kiss her, she would flinch. And everytime they were left alone, she would move away.

She was frightened of him, and had thought to hate him, but her affections for him even though were disdainfully beaten- were still alive. She found it hard to make up her mind.

For the past four days, the ache that she acquired from his wildness in their first night together still lingered on her body, especially her lacerated womanhood. She found it hard to get up, to sit, to walk. Every move felt like she would rip apart. It became the main reason why she couldn't go out her chamber- well, her and Ramsay's chamber.

However, Myranda was somehow kind enough to assist her. She would sometimes help her go to the solar to unwind and do her hobbies to keep her entertained.

Myranda used to hate her enough to plot her murder by poison. She was caught and nearly sentenced to death by Ramsay. But the moment Nisha let her spared and gave her a second chance, Myranda became tamed under her disposal. She knew it was risky to depend on her, but she was all that she got in this dark and cold fortress.

There in the solar, she would often watch over the training yard where men would spar. She had always wanted to train with them, clash her sword with them, but her role as a noble lady kept her from doing so. She could only stare at them in the distance while dreaming her impossible dream.

One day, however, it all became entertaining once the young lord of Winterfell challenged Cornelius the Cutthroat into a sparring duel. Men had surrounded the training yard to watch, and they had been at it for hours.

She remembered him to be graceful with his sword. He looked like he was dancing. He dodged every brute attack by Cornelius and recuperated with powerful blows. He defeated the Bolton soldier and Robb Stark's men cheered and their raucous noise rang through her ears. 

She too was amazed that she almost clapped, yet she shied away once Robb Stark found her spying on him. His kind eyes which sparkled like the ocean pulled her into the depths. He stared through her. She was alarmed that he'd be able to discover her turmoil existing inside her, so she moved away from the window and then left the solar.

Robb Stark had talked to her in the godswood before that when she escaped from the keep unknowingly. Though she tried her best to casually converse with him, it did not appear as natural as before. If anything, it was strained and distant, that Nisha knew Robb felt it too. Her mind was troubled and it was showed how she interacted with him. She didn't want to concern him further, so after that, she avoided him at all cost like a plague.

But today was the day the Stark men would return to their wolf den, and as a noble lady under House Bolton, it was one of her duties with the other lords to bid their guests farewell and safe journey. She knew then that she had to interact with him again, but it didn't matter now; it would be the last.

Nisha went into the bailey and saw Robb Stark's men preparing for their travel together with the men-at-arms of Lord Roose. The place was swarmed with soldiers- all doing what their lords tasked them to do. Her husband was talking to his Lord Father at the distance. She eyed them intently, trying to read their lips of what they're discussing about, but she became distracted when four towering men, all with mean and scarred faces, went around them. She studied them closer and noticed that two of them were familiar. One of which was Aengus, her bodyguard, and the other was Cornelius the Cutthroat whom Robb Stark sparred with yestermorn.

"My lady." A tap on her shoulder made her look on her side and was met with crystal blue eyes. "Pardon me, Lady Nisha. I've called you, but you haven't heard me."

"Lord Robb Stark." She didn't expect he'd talk to her again after brushing her cold shoulder at him these past few days. "What is it?"

"I had a great time here in Dreadfort. I want to express my gratitude on your hospitality."

"Do you say that with irony?"

He was taken aback at her response. "No, my lady, I-"

Nisha smiled. "It's alright. I'm aware I've been a bad host for avoiding you. It's just... I had a lot of things in my mind lately. My apologies."

"No, my lady, you don't have to apologize. I completely understand." Robb glanced around him, around the Dreadfort. "These changes... It's a lot to take in." He then returned his sight on her, and only her. "But I know you'd do great, since love makes everything happier and easier, am I right?"

It was just after their dance during her wedding feast that she educated him about love, and she couldn't help herself but laugh a little when he quoted her words. "Yes, my lord."

"Before I depart, I want this to be returned to you." Robb took something from a pouch then handed it to Nisha. It was a silver ring that looked like the body of a snake, with a yellow gemstone in the middle. "I found your necklace in the training yard. It was broken, the pendant was crushed. I salvaged what's left of it and had my smithy to make it a ring. I hope it's alright, my lady."

Nisha's once sullen face brightened up with a genuine grin. She threw her arms around Robb then hugged him tightly. "A thousand thanks, Robb!"

Robb stayed still awkwardly; he wasn't used to with this kind of affection, however, he let himself melt under her warm embrace. "You're welcome."

The pavilion was raised and the battalion rode their stallions through it. They were divided into two lines, one that held the banners of the Direwolf, and the other- the Flayed Man. Lord Robb Stark and Lord Roose Bolton led the men at the front. The sight of them slowly blurred as they moved far past ahead. When the tail of their army left the bailey, Ramsay instantly instructed to shut close the pavilion. It descended on the ground with a loud screech, echoing throughout the courtyard.

He then turned to face his wife- all dressed in gray that covered her neck and arms. She looked more like a local here than a foreigner on how she presented herself now.

"Was it pleasing?"

His random words made Nisha frown. "What?"

"Was your conversation with Lord Robb Stark, pleasing?"

She knew that tone of his. She had heard it once when she was with Yorr. "There's nothing to be pleasant with. I only bid him farewell."

"Oh, did you now." Ramsay smiled in taunt. "But he's pleasant enough to be embraced?"

Nisha's face turned sour. She did not like how he subtly questioned her fidelity to him. "Talk to me again when you decided not to be a cad."

Then, she signaled Myranda to help her walk away back to the main keep, leaving Ramsay shooting daggers behind her back.