And there it was. That name. It had been Robert that had begun it when he'd allowed Jaime back into the Kingsguard in spite of his broken oaths. Kingslayer. And the name had stayed with him ever since, years and years since while that oaf held the Iron Throne and treated his sister so badly. Still at least the girl had the decency to look sorry for speaking it so casually in his presence.
He didn't understand how she knew the name though. This was not Westros, nor was she of any of the Kingdoms that he could tell, she wasn't Bravosi or Dothraki. She was just someone from this world or another like it that knew the Kingslayer and he didn't know how that was possible. "Yes" he said, still courteous but hating the name and how it had been given. "Kingslayer" he repeated. "If you know that name I expect you know why I have it, so I suppose I shall understand if you no longer wish to help me." he told her. He'd be disappointed yes, but in no way surprised. This girl, Trish? She seemed kind, just the type to revile him for the act he did not regret but knew would haunt him to his grave.
He even still saw them. Aerys cackling madly, Rhaegar, proud and strong, he might have made a good king one day. The Kingsguard. Judging, always judging.
"I thank you for your promised help Lady Trish." he told her, "But I won't trouble you further." With that Jaime turned to leave. He didn't want to stay and deal with those usual looks, the revulsion. He could take it from Knights and Lords, he'd even been a little amused when Ned Stark had acted so disdainfully about his deed in the very hall where his father and brother had burned on the whims of a Mad King. But a Lady? He wouldn't impugn her honour