"Then should we..." Ramsay began hesitantly.
"Do as Duke Robb instructed." Roose Bolton cut Ramsay off and turned to Jon, his tone calm. "Jon, pass the order along. Have the lords start packing up their tents now. We will leave the Harlon Castle camp first thing tomorrow morning and join Lord Robb."
"Yes, my lord." Once Jon received Roose Bolton's orders, he wasted no time lingering and hurried off to relay Robb's plan.
After all, staying here would serve no purpose. The Bolton father and son would never discuss anything confidential in his presence.
Though he had spent over a year at Roose Bolton's side, he had uncovered no secrets. Whatever he did learn was of little consequence.
Ramsay watched Jon leave with a smile on his face. Only when the footsteps outside had faded completely did he turn back and say, "Father, do you truly intend to keep following Robb Stark? I think we have better options. That Dragonlord, for instance. Surely he would not want to see the Starks make their hold over the North unshakable again."
As he finished, he looked at Roose Bolton, a strange gleam flashing through his eyes.
Roose Bolton did not answer immediately. Instead, he stared at him coldly. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. "Ramsay, you have been talking too much today. And do not think I am unaware of your little schemes behind my back."
The smile on Ramsay's face froze, then his lips spread into a cruel grin. His fingertips brushed lightly over the short blade hidden in his sleeve. "You are right, Father. I simply could not help wondering what your next move would be."
But Roose Bolton's gaze pierced his face like an icicle. "My next move?" he asked coldly. "You do not need to know.