A Hunt

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Y/n had been at the Dreadfort for over two weeks, and she was thoroughly enjoying it. She wouldn't say she loved Ramsay, but she certainly enjoyed his company and was happy she would marry him instead of some random southern Lord who had no care for her.

Ramsay had grown to like her as well. He often found his thoughts drifting to his wife to be. He wondered how she would act when he revealed his favourite pastime and desperately wanted to take her with him on a hunt. After finding her in the kennels the other day, his desperation only grew.

But he needed a reason.

Y/n had found her way into town after taking an unknown turn. She didn't mind being out of the castle. It was quiet in the village, and she liked not having someone constantly watching her. Besides, if something did happen, she always carried her mother's dagger with her.

She was thankful she had worn her grey cloak today. It wasn't the nicest of her cloaks, but it was big enough to hide her fancy dress and didn't have her family's sigil on it, allowing her to roam the streets without immediate recognition.

The delicious odour coming from the bakery drew her in as she walked past. Back home, they only had one apple tree, and it produced the most delicious apples she'd ever tasted. The cooks back home were very good at baking those apples into pies, and Y/n quickly found she couldn't resist a freshly baked apple pie. There was a particularly fragrant pie sitting in the window.

She had meant to ask how much the pie was, but the conversation at the counter made her hesitate.

"The Lady Katermal? Yeah, I saw her."

There were two girls at the counter. The one behind the counter was skinny with red hair that had been kept nicely. Her friend was slightly shorter but had stringy, brown hair and a mousey face. Y/n narrowed her eyes at them as she continued to listen.

"Ugly as a horse, if you ask me," the redhead continued. "I heard one of the soldiers call her the 'slut of Shadowrise.'" She began laughing. "Poor Ramsay doesn't know what he's gotten himself into."

Y/n didn't realize she had grabbed her dagger until it was plunged into the wooden counter.

"I'd like to know the name of the soldier who called her a slut."

The red-haired girl's eyes widened, but it was clear she didn't recognize the Lady in front of her and was instead worried about the counter.

"What was that for? My father won't be very happy about this."

"Tell me the name of the soldier." Y/n's eyes were wild with anger, but the girl didn't seem to care.

"Why would I tell you, ya cunt?"

"I thought you met the Lady Katermal?" Y/n tilted her head at the confusion in the girl's eyes. "Or at least saw her."

Finally, after a few moments of thought and a glance at the gold hilt of the dagger, the redhead understood her mistake. "I'm so sorry, m'lady," she said as she bowed. The other girl bowed as well.

"The name of the soldier," Y/n spoke loudly, emphasizing each word.

The girl glanced back up with fear in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted as Ramsay, along with a few of the Dreadfort's guards, entered the shop.

"There you are, my Lady. What are you doing here?"

Y/n glanced at him. As she straightened her posture, she said, "teaching girls not to gossip about their Lady."

Ramsay glanced at the girls, understanding the scene in front of him. "I think they'd be more impressionable after a night in the dungeon," he walked to Y/n and put his arm around her waist, "don't you think dear?"

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