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[i]"His sword is sworn to nothing but gold."[/i] Tayila turned suddenly at the voice, frigid as winter was rumoured to be North of the Wall, to see a woman clad in armour, with black hair. She quickly took in her attire of steel mirror. In King's Landing, if ladies did not wear dresses of finery and gold thread, they wore rags and roughspun cloths salvaged from Flea Bottom. But the Wards and their keepers seemed not to hold to such customs. Tayila imagined wearing her street-clothes in the castle, but such a vision was laughable. 

[i]"Has Lady Greyjoy passed through here?"[/i] she asked, and at once Tayila remembered that this was Asha Harlaw, whose charge was the Greyjoy ward. [color=f7941d]"Yes...milady,"[/color] she said, pausing mid-sentence to contemplate the propriety of calling Asha Harlaw [i]ser[/i] in armour. Tayila's eyes glanced over to the doors of the hall. [color=f7941d]"She left, after Lord William."[/color] She looked between Asha and Aeryn Sand, whom the former seemed to be keen not to keep in her sights, like a vile slug that had been squashed under the roll of a wagon-wheel. [color=f7941d]"Forgive a handmaid's curiosity,"[/color] she said, keeping her tone polite, and unassuming lest a temper flare before she scavenged an answer, [color=f7941d]"but would chance have you both know each other?"[/color] [i]Asha Harlaw despises the Dog of Dorne like a sister would her youngers. But without the playful affection behind her chidings.[/i]