Quiet as ever, Taria made sure to take note of those who were coming on the Stepstones mission, or quest as she favoured to call it in her mind. They seemed worthier than her, with names and armour and looks. She wondered how they were at sea? Granted she wasn't the best or even close to it, but she had found her sea legs years ago. Maybe once she was on an actual ship, she would find them again. At least, that's the hope that was building within her. Having the Greyjoy name was certainly proving to help her confidence, even if it had just been a little while.

Her eyes had returned to the King and Queen just in time to see Danaerys look her way. Despite herself, she felt warm at being acknowledged. A petty thing, perhaps, to those who were used to it, but not so for Taria. She had to form her words in her mind before speaking up, not wanting to stumble in her speech and look like an idiot in front of the Mother of Dragons.

"Your words do me more honour than I deserve," she replied, managing to keep her hands loose despite wanting to curl in nervousness. "I- I'm the one who is truly honoured, your Majesty. I hope to be useful when the time comes." She bowed her head, thankful that her hair managed to hide the flush she could feel growing on her cheeks. She hoped she hadn't sounded silly, and for goodness' sake, she really hoped she addressed the Mother of Dragons as she was supposed to.

Taria lifted her head and once more followed the conversation that wasn't necessarily directed to her but to the mission she would be embarking on, including looking over the fellow who had barged in. Well, it seemed he would be joining their mission as well. She could understand that this would be a larger group that she had ever travelled with. Certainly an experience she wouldn't be forgetting soon.

Once they had been dismissed by the king, Taria decided it was high time to leave. However, even as she left the castle and headed in the direction of the inn she stayed at, she couldn't forget his final words. [i]For soon, the war begins.[/i] She had been much too young when the previous War took place, though if she dug in the recesses of her memory, she could remember one thing, being very cold. This, however, was different. It wasn't as sizeable, perhaps, but [i]she[/i] was to partake in this, for better or for worse.

Although they wouldn't be leaving right away, she decided it was never too late to see what equipment she had. Taria had always made do with little to nothing, not because she was ascetic or anything of the sort; it was just easier to move when all there was to carry could be put on one's person. 

She gave a nod to the innkeeper as she made her way up the stairs to the room she had hired for the last few months. This particular inn was kind enough to give her free meals if she helped with various chores. The symbiotic relationship seemed to work so far, enough that they greeted and even made small talk on occasions. As she entered her room, Taria vaguely wondered if she would be missed here once she left. If the mission was a success and she returned, she very much doubted she would stay here, in King's Landing. Or even Westeros for that matter.

As she gathered all the money she had hidden securely in her room, she decided she may as well spend on buying a worthwhile sword and perhaps some sturdier clothes, perhaps some boiled leather armour. A small chuckle escaped her as she shook her head. "The idiot runaway is going to join a legion of warriors. Seven Hells, this is madness." And yet, that didn't stop her from leaving the inn in search of better equipment. If she was to die, she could make it a [i]little[/i] difficult for the enemy, at least!