An Inconspicous Arrival
Si Wang-mu has grown accustomed to many strange things since leaving her parents’ household to work and study in the household of her lady -
But, it has to be admitted, none of those strange things involve suddenly being in an unfamilar kitchen, when you were discussing spatial geometry with your lady.
Si Wang-mu is of a practical bent of mind, as well as a deeply suspicious one, and so she acts immediately, shrugging off her fine (far too fine) silk jacket and stuffing it in a cupboard behind some teacups. The flimsy, beautiful shoes come off too, hidden hastily with those same teacups, and she shortens her floorsweeping skirt a few inches by the simple expedient of rolling up the waistband - not easy, because it fits her too well, it was made for her, rather than being passed down, but she manages - and she tugs out her pretty, elegant bun and hurriedly puts her hair in two plain, slightly messy plaits down her back instead.
There. Not a thing she can do about the quality of her remaining clothing, but at a glance and in her bare feet she’ll pass for some humble scullery maid in a household less scrupulously run than her own. She has to find something to do, quickly, before someone spots and questions her, and she seizes a watering can off the table and hurries out onto the kitchen patio as if she has every right to be here.
Her mind is racing. Perhaps they’ve been kidnapped, the two of them, in which case she must remain free to move long enough to determine where Qing-jao is being kept and find some way to relay their location to Master Han. Or perhaps - perhaps - but kidnapping is what she must plan for, it being the worst scenario, and so she waters herbs as if she belongs here, in this household, no one important enough to pay heed to.
Si Wang Mu is from Orson Scott Card's "Xenocide".
But, it has to be admitted, none of those strange things involve suddenly being in an unfamilar kitchen, when you were discussing spatial geometry with your lady.
Si Wang-mu is of a practical bent of mind, as well as a deeply suspicious one, and so she acts immediately, shrugging off her fine (far too fine) silk jacket and stuffing it in a cupboard behind some teacups. The flimsy, beautiful shoes come off too, hidden hastily with those same teacups, and she shortens her floorsweeping skirt a few inches by the simple expedient of rolling up the waistband - not easy, because it fits her too well, it was made for her, rather than being passed down, but she manages - and she tugs out her pretty, elegant bun and hurriedly puts her hair in two plain, slightly messy plaits down her back instead.
There. Not a thing she can do about the quality of her remaining clothing, but at a glance and in her bare feet she’ll pass for some humble scullery maid in a household less scrupulously run than her own. She has to find something to do, quickly, before someone spots and questions her, and she seizes a watering can off the table and hurries out onto the kitchen patio as if she has every right to be here.
Her mind is racing. Perhaps they’ve been kidnapped, the two of them, in which case she must remain free to move long enough to determine where Qing-jao is being kept and find some way to relay their location to Master Han. Or perhaps - perhaps - but kidnapping is what she must plan for, it being the worst scenario, and so she waters herbs as if she belongs here, in this household, no one important enough to pay heed to.
Si Wang Mu is from Orson Scott Card's "Xenocide".