Chapter 12

"What are you thinking about my love?" Cat asked as they finished their love making and she laid on his chest.

He stayed silent for a moment, thinking about the young lord who left Winterfell early in the morning after he gave his oath and finished his business in Winterfell.

"Domeric Bolton." He said and left it at that. There were so many things about the young lord that he didn't even knew where to begin.

"Aah… Domeric. He seemed like a good boy. So intelligent and mature for his age. And to have lost both his parents in such a young age." Cat said with a hint of sympathy in her voice "I wonder what our little Robb would have done if he lost both his parents at such a young age. Would he mature as fast as Domeric?" she asked while looking in his eyes and he held a sigh at that.

Of course, Cat, being a woman and a mother would sympathise with the recently orphaned boy. But was that all she noticed when she looked at the boy? Didn't she noticed the direwolf he was riding. Or how he gave off an aura of intimidation. How despite being escorted by Lady Barbrey Dustin, it was clear that all the Bolton men answered to him and him only.

To see grown men have such loyalty for a young boy was both fascinating and worrying.

The decision to change the banner was not anything that just about anyone could make either. After all, the banners of a house are what give them their identity.

House Stark had the gained the Direwolf for it's sigil because it was said that their ancestors rode giant Direwolves in battle. He had believed that to be a mere rumors and legends until today when he saw young Lord Bolton riding the black direwolf.

House Bolton had similarly gained it's sigil because of it's practice of flaying their enemies. A practice that was only outlawed about a few hundred years ago. And something that the Boltons were said to have still performed inside closed doors.

Changing a house's sigil was not something that could be done lightly. Especially by someone whose position was not secure within his own household.

So either Domeric Bolton was a stupid boy who didn't knew what he was doing. Or he was very smart and had the loyalty of most of the people in Dreadfort.

He wanted to believe the truth to be the former one but for some reason, he had a feeling that it was the latter.

He clutched Cat tightly to his chest, her warm body calming his frantic heart as he thought about the charters for the expansion of Dreadfort and the Port town and he wondered if the boy would even use those parchments.

"I don't know Cat." He said and then kissed her soft lips gently. "And I hope that we live a long life and that Robb won't have to pick up the mantle of the Lord of House Stark for many many years."

She gave his a small smile and then kissed him in the neck, eliciting a moan from him before she removed the blanket covering them and sat down on his lap.

It seemed that he would have to work extra hard to please his lady wife this night.