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Tayila watched mute as the dining hall filled slowly with wards and then some, and then was emptied with the altercation with the Lannister child. To be true, the boy came from blood even the bastard handmaiden would not go near; what good was it to come from a name that was as bitterly hated in memory, as in life? No, [i]Waters[/i] seemed safer than the title of those who always paid their debts. 

Her dark green eyes trailed over one man clad in armour, who had introduced himself as Aeryn Sand and was making a round around the table. Aeryn Sand...a bastard of Dorne then, sworn to the services of a Tully from the riverlands? How strange to be employed from halfway across the world, for a lady's stay in the Red Keep. Tayila might not have lived in the castle for long, might be stranger to the customs and politics of the highborn who had never once soiled their feet but seemed all too comfortable ripping asunder the lives of others, but she had two ears, and she heard occasional whispers from the corners.

As Aeryn Sand passed nearby, tails of his robe fluttering subduedly behind him, Tayila stretched a hand, pale from being kept indoors for a close to a year, but several shades from the milky white of noble women's flesh. Her fingers ghosted lightly over the crook of his elbow, the chink in his lobstered armour, to graze warm skin rather than cold metal. [color=f7941d]"One hears of a Dog of Dorne, come with tongue lolling and sand-burnt paws from the land of venom and snakes."[/color] Tayila's eyes flickered momentarily to the Dornish prince, who persisted in bringing around his pet serpent, before they found Aeryn's once more, and she gave a winsome smile. [color=f7941d]"But he comes having sworn his sword to a fish instead."[/color]

Tayila laughed to make light of the jest, and she plucked up one end of her dress in a sweeping motion that was almost like a curtsy, except she did not bend. [color=f7941d]"My name is Tayila. It is my pleasure to make the acquaintance of Aeryn Sand,"[/color] she said, white teeth beaming up at him. [i]How does he like his women?[/i] she mused to herself. [i]Innocents submissive and demure, or fiesty hellions?[/i] Tayila had not come across many Dornishmen in her term of servitude, but she had yet to meet one from the markets who did not enjoy assaulting his appetite for pig and mutton with inordinate amounts of chillies and peppers. The tastes of Sunspear were strangely spicy and flavourful.