[center][h3]Lady Jia (Wen)[/h3][/center]

The fine silk cloth felt strange on Wen's skin. She had never been one for unnecessary finery, her salary would not have permitted it, even if she had. The garb of an aristocratic noblewoman, the layers of fine fabric, the tasteful embroidery, and the hastily acquired jewelry that she wore felt like heavy weights bearing down on her lithe body.

Wen had made only modest efforts to hide her strangeness, wrapping a length of silk over in her head and horns in the shape of a hood. Jia Li had been a strange man, all knew this. Few would question his widow being stranger still. Wealth purchased much in the way of acceptance. She heard the whispers, of course, the quickly muffled chuckles and quietly breathed comments about Jia Li's peculiar tastes in women. Even in death, the old merchant would serve the Heavenly Emperor. What remained of his person, his reputation, provided Wen with persona she needed to remain hidden. 

These facts did little to change how she felt. The remarks distressed her with their deep distastefulness and it was a credit to her teachers that she maintained the unwavering calm expected of a noblewoman doubtlessly far above acknowledging such base and improper rumors. She knew what she was, but she could not help but feel sullied by the implications, and she was left with a growing desire for a long, cleansing bath in the warmest water she could find so far from any settlements of note.

Guanyo, had been familiar, safe. The walls of the fortress city were a reminder of more than danger to Wen, she saw the long arm of the Imperial Army reaching towards the wilderness, and it comforted her. She was pleased with the caravan master, Chungho Pan. He had shown himself reliable and calm, even when the caravan suffered a most unfortunate casualty.

The matter of the curious wagon, heavily guarded by veteran Imperial soldiers, and accompanied by no less than a witch-artificer had been a source of much discussion in throughout the caravan. Wen feigned polite disinterest and did her best to avoid Imperial soldiers and especially the Imperial magician. She had no wish to be spotted and to be recognized as an Imperial magician, even by her own kind. The thought almost caused her to nervously run a hand over the fine gloves she wore, the Imperial Mark felt as if it was burning beneath the silk gloves that she wore.

She sat within the wooden wagon, mercifully sheltered from the rough weather. Lu Long, the owner of the wagon, sat nearby, slowly breathing sweet smoke from the pipe that never strayed far from his lips. Middle aged, Lu had the wrinkled brow of a merchant steeped in the worries of his trade. He was polite, affording Wen an endlessly respectful distance. Wen could see the growing worry in his eyes, but Lu couched his growing anxiety in gentle pronouncements on the long journey and small talk about the intricacies of trade throughout the Empire. The four young men that accompanied him, his retinue of employees, were busy loudly complaining over the most recent delay. They were eager to arrive in Ssanjuu, more eager to complete their business, and unabashedly hungry to the return to the familiar comforts of the capital city.

Lu nodded at Wen, releasing a heavy cloud of smoke, as a hand ran thoughtfully through his beard,"Lady Jia, I trust that you are comfortable? Do you require anything?" 

"Thank you, Master Lu, all is well. I was merely thinking about my poor husband, he often spoke of his journeys to the Northern lands, and the difficulties he encountered, although I recall no mentions of winter storms quite as bad as the one that currently assails us."

"A great man," Lu sagely offered, "He was true servant of the Empire and a gifted merchant. To deal in textiles for so long and with such notable profits, was truly an admirable feat and the mark of a most carefully sharpened mind."

"Indeed," Wen agreed, forcing her mouth into a soft smile.

Mention of the recently passed Lord Jia, sent a shiver of excitement through Lu's workers and they quickly fell into their own hushed banter. Content to let Lu carry the conversation, Wen asked polite questions regarding his recent mercantile ventures. She knew well that he had recently purchased a significant stake in a trading company operating a small fleet of ships from the great port of Haifeng. She could see the spark of pride in Lu's eyes as he explained the particular venture and sensed a deeper reservoir of ambition in the middling merchant than her handlers had assumed.

The easy flow of their conversation was interrupted, by a familiar expression, the twisted word used to invoke those Aspected assuredly cursed by some vengeful deity. 

"Accursed," one of the assistant merchants said, his voice rising thoughtlessly as his voice rang with unconfined glee. Lu's subordinates had an unfortunate habit of gossiping, Wen knew. They sought out rumors and fresh stories with a relish that she found disquieting. The frown that Lu shot the young men did little to dissuade them and wishing to avoid unnecessary conflict, Wen simply continued her conversation with Lu, inquiring about his daughter, a young woman that Wen knew had been recently married to the scion of a wealthy family of spice traders.

In a brief moment of silence, Wen could not help but overhear the conversation of the assistant merchants.

"Yes, I heard from Madame Song that the old man was distastefully fond of [i]exotic[/i] companions, there was even a sordid song composed about his many affairs, You know the one, it began-" the trader continued with a snicker that faded only with the worried looks of his companions. His face turned an ashen white as he caught himself, realizing his mistake, and looking away from the golden eyes that shone towards him with obvious anger.

The silence that followed was painfully awkward as Lu's face twisted with barely contained rage. It was his wagon. It was his subordinates. To offend a guest...to purposefully offend a guest, Wen knew this to be an unthinkable to the merchant.

"Pardon me for a moment, Master Lu, I find myself suddenly in need of some fresh air," Wen said, allowing Lu to save face. Her cheeks burned red with fury and she buried her tightly balled fists, shaking with anger in the sleeves of her gown as she rose from beneath the comfortable warmth of the thick blanket that she had wrapped herself in.

"Of course, you may have my horse," Lu apologetically offered, casting a furious glare at his subordinates who cowered under his ferocious expression.

Wrapping herself in a thick fur robe that trailed past her ankles, Wen stepped out of the wagon, managing to mount Lu's horse just as the caravan started moving again. She could hear yelling from within the wagon and the sudden unmistakable sound of well-shaped leather meeting raw flesh.

[hider=Summary]Deciding that her patience is at an end, rather than inflict violence upon a rude soul, Wen elects to brave the weather, and ride next to Lu Long's wagon for a bit.[/hider]