I find myself writing to you whenever things are beyond my grasp, which seems to be far more frequent than I would care to admit here. The last I can recall, I was back in Winterfell. Ramsay was in a cell. Gods I hated him- still do. Hate the fear that is left in his place.
Robb, did you know of what he was? Of the monster he was to those he tormented? Did you ever learn of him? Of how literal he took his house sigil? I doubt you did. Had you known, I doubt you would have let it stand. Then again, there were things you had done as the King in the North that were not wise. In any case, I am safe. I suppose that is quite the mercy, having safety in such a strange and foreing land. It still does nothing for the things that plague my nightmares, but then what will?
Wishing you, mother, father and Rikkon the best- I miss you with every fiber of my being.