Roose Bolton finally returned to Dreadfort, but it was not happiness that graced his face.
"It was good to see my sister again after so many years" commented a woman beside him, with long dark hair and handsome features.
"Yes, it was" replied Roose Bolton, but the next moment he brought his right hand to his jaw.
"What's the matter?" asked Bethany Bolton as she saw her husband's gestures.
"I feel roughness, I should shave" commented the man quickly, and ordered some servants to bring someone.
A man with a frightened face quickly arrived, finding Roose Bolton on a stool, waiting to be shaved. The young man was missing all the fingers on his left hand, but he was handling the razor to shave Roose Bolton with his right.
"You know what will happen if you cut me again."
"Yes my lord," said the frightened man. He could not help how, in his usual fashion, Roose Bolton wore his sword dangling from his waist, his hands firmly holding the hilt. Three soldiers were also staring at the barber, their hands on the handles of their weapons.
'Then begin,' ordered the Lord of Dreadfort.
'As suspicious as ever' thought the servant, but he was used to it by now. He had served Roose Bolton for many, many years, which is why he could handle a blade so close to his throat. Roose Bolton was a cautious man after all.
In less than an hour Lord Bolton was finished, and he took a bath to cleanse his body. As he would begin his treatment, the one given each time after bathing, two knocks were heard at the door.
"Maester," Roose Bolton said in a low tone, almost a whisper.
"Lord Bolton, I hear you send for me."
"So you did."
"Then I hear you, my lord."
"I wanted to ask you a question. Do we have any ravens capable of reaching the Westerlands?"
"That..."
"Precisely to Casterly Rock."
The Maester opened his eyes in surprise. He spoke to some of Roose Bolton's companions, and heard Bethany Bolton speak of some things that happened at the banquet.
Lord Bolton didn't like the Maester's eyes, he had heard too much too quickly, so he thought about taking the sword to his right and slitting his throat, but the man's voice stopped him, a much colder voice than usual.
"Not to Casterly Rock, my lord. But the Citadel would also accept one of your ravens, gladly."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Roose Bolton's mouth. Apparently House Dustin had made too many enemies, and it would be the task of House Bolton to clip their wings.