The kennels smelled of blood and wet fur; the hounds filled the rafters with a constant, greedy music. Ramsay moved between the pens like a lord through his hall, straw crunching under his boots. The boy trotted at his side, small shoulders tight with the attention of children who expect the world to snap at any moment. At the edge of the torchlight she stood—silent, watching. She spoke nothing; her presence alone was enough.

“Father,” the boy said, voice thin against the dogs’ chorus, “is it true… that babies come from love?”

Ramsay’s mouth twisted into a slow smile that did not reach his eyes. The word tasted of weakness to him. He crouched so their faces were level; the child’s blue eyes were wide and honest, and Ramsay liked how easily they could be altered.

“Love,” he said, letting the syllable hang. “They feed children that tale to keep them soft. Pretty stories so they won’t look too closely.” He nodded toward the nearest pen. A lean bitch paced, foaming at the muzzle, ribs like ridged hills. “Look at her. She breeds because he chose her. Because someone decided. Not because two hearts sang together. I put her with a mate. I decide who lives, who feeds, who breeds.”

The boy watched the dog as if it might teach him something about the world. The mother remained in the doorway, motionless—no softening sounds, no gentle touch. Her silence made the lesson sharper.

“You exist because I willed it,” Ramsay continued, his voice flat as a blade. “Because I wanted another Bolton. Strength makes blood. Strength takes. That is how we last.” He let his hand land on the boy’s shoulder, an approximation of affection that carried command rather than comfort.

“But—” the child began, then stopped, the defiant syllable swallowed by the kennel’s noise. He folded himself small, as if settling into the shape the man had carved for him.

“Good,” Ramsay said approvingly. “Keep that with you.” The boy answered in a meek whisper, “Yes, Father.”

The hounds lifted their heads and answered him with a chorus of howls. Ramsay rose and walked on, the sound of the kennel following like a benediction.