chapter viii.

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             Taliya smiled as the dark castle of House Bolton came into view her view

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             Taliya smiled as the dark castle of House Bolton came into view her view. She hated the north, but it had become her home ever since she had married the Lord of Borrowton and she had grew to love certain parts of the ruthless place. The castle was a strong fortress. It had high and thick walls and massive towers. It always managed to amaze Taliya no matter how many times she visited it. Not only was the castle magnificent, but the rumours circulating it intrigued her. The stories of how the Bolton's hung the skins of their enemies on the walls didn't faze her, but instead fascinated her. And the same could be said for the Lord of Dreadfort himself. He was an older man, a little younger then Chrestan perhaps. But he was by far more interesting. Taliya had spent ages trying to get the Lord to tell her stories of the halls of the fort on her last visit with no luck. So was desperate this time to get the cold, cunning man to tell her. Their last visit was less than a year ago and Lord Dustin was shocked to receive an invite so soon.

"If you could hold your tongue this time," Chrestan spoke as they arrived outside the walls of Dreadfort,

"we'll see," the Lannister replied clutching the wolf pelt around her neck,

"Taliya," he tutted,

"I do not wish to be lectured by you about my behaviour," she said turning her back to him no longer wishing to continue their conversation,

"I do not wish to lecture you, but your behaviour is a disgrace to my house," he said grabbing her arm,

"well, announce me a Lannister then," she hissed pulling her arm from his hold,

"you're not a Lannister-"

"do I have my children with me?" the golden lioness interrupted,

"no,"

"so I am then, that's what we agreed," she said as her expression turned pleasant again,

"please just be behave," he spoke as if she was a child. She scoffed as they walked towards the doors of the great fort,

"don't," she said ripping her hand from his grasp just as the gates opened.

Taliya had thought back to her own marriage as she stood in the sept of Balour. She reminisced about her time spent in the North, but not all of it was pleasant to remember. Chrestan was not nearly as bad as the rumours had said and he treated the Lannister fairly well. However, there were still many memories that she wished to push to the very back of her mind. But nevertheless the golden haired Lannister stood beside her older sister with a fake smile plastered across her lips as she watched her brother take the red-haired Stark's hand in marriage. She herself had been so much like the young Lady Sansa when she stood before her soon to be husband many moons ago. A daughter of a powerful and respected Lord. Taliya had been timid and nervous. So nervous that her lip had trembled as her father looked upon her. She looked upon the pale-skinned and green-eyed Stark. Lady Sansa was trying so hard to hide her emotions and Taliya was sure she had fooled everyone but her. She saw the young girls lip quiver with nervousness, her hand tremble and she was sure the girls stomach was full of butterflies.

𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏  (j. lannister)Where stories live. Discover now