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The biting northern chill relentlessly gnaws at any exposed flesh as Y/N moves through the lower ward of Winterfell. By the time she reaches the Great Keep, the tips of her ears and nose are tinged with an angry shade of red, and her fingers have turned both numb and stiff.
She battles the frozen tendons in her fingers, clenching them into tight fists before wiping away the remnants of melted snow that cling to the apples of her cheeks. Then she sets to work, swiftly preparing the solar where Lord Bolton and the new Lord of Karhold are scheduled to meet.
Y/N knows to make herself scarce once the room is heated to Roose Bolton's preferences and she has arranged a flagon of ale for him and his guest's consumption. Her timing proves impeccable since just as she slips out the solar, several heavy footsteps approach from across the hall.
She bows her head as the men draw near, her movements practiced and poised. As anticipated, Lord Bolton offers no acknowledgment as he strides past her, and she keeps her chin tucked low, as the second set of footsteps follows him into the solar. A momentary lapse in her composure occurs when she dares to lift her face just before the third set of footsteps can vanish into the room. Inadvertently, her eyes meet the chilling gaze of Ramsay Bolton.
A wave of unease and dread cascades through her veins as his pale eyes pointedly sink into hers, their intensity heightened by the absence of the twisted smile he typically favors. Instead, his demeanor is now molded by a malevolent gleam in his eyes and the pinched expression between his eyebrows.
Y/N finally drops her eyes just as the Bolton man resolutely turns his chin back forward and disappears into the solar. She moves forward, almost tripping over the ends of her dress in her rush, to close the door behind him. However, before she can secure the door shut, a voice stops her in her tracks.
"Stay," Roose Bolton orders, making Y/N lift her gaze from the stone floors to address her lord. "We might make use of you later."
The weight of his sinister promise presses down on Y/N like a leaden cloak. Her heart hammers in her chest as the two other pairs of eyes in the room fall upon her, but only Lord Karstark's scrutiny of her is apparent from out of the corner of her eye. Y/N doesn't dare to direct her gaze towards Ramsay Bolton again to divulge the expression he wears. Instead, she nods silently, her acquiescence a silent acknowledgment of the Bolton lord's command and with measured steps, she moves to lock the door behind her after stepping into the room.
"As I was saying, m'lord," Karstark begins, his voice carrying a note of urgency after clearing his throat, once Y/N moves to a corner of the room. "We came upon the bodies on our way here."
It doesn't take long for Y/N to catch onto their conversation. A fortnight had passed since Sansa Stark's escape from Winterfell, and Lord Karstark was now informing the Bolton Lord that none of their efforts to capture her had been successful. The moments drag on before Lord Bolton finally dismisses Karstark who takes his leave, leaving Y/N alone with the two Bolton men.
