The etiquette was expected and fiercely applied by her mother, a woman that was determined to stand with the great Houses of Westeros. That she had neither the breeding or the famous name had been detrimental to her. Sybel Spicer was a woman that wanted to be an equivalent of a Lannister, not seen as an outsider. Unfortunately, she tried to hard and too aggressively to achieve that.

"Jeyne," she insisted. It technically wasn't Lady Westerling since her marriage, but Lady Stark. Even that wasn't entirely accurate. She was queen for a time. Now, she wasn't certain anymore, only there would be various names used for her. Here, she could at least be called something simple. "Only Jeyne."

She smiled at him sadly, "It must be easier in your world to speak with actions rather than anything else. I'm a woman and everything I can and cannot do is dictated by the men around me." But still, her face lightened. "Small acts of defiance or meaning are all I was capable of before." But still, she utilized them where she could. The dress she arrived in still in tatters in her hotel room, a sign of mourning for her husband.

"We lived in the Westerlands. There are more hills and cliffs there and it is far warmer. My family's home was next to the ocean. We don't live near many villages, only the ones under my father's care. Beyond that, our keep is falling apart and crumbling."