"It's a chill night tonight, my lord."
Xiahou Dun had been aware of the handmaiden's approach, the soft step and the rustle of fabric, the light rattle of pottery on a wooden tray. He tried to seem relaxed, so not to terrify the poor girl as she set the tray down on a low table, cups and pitcher threatening to topple from her shivering. The pitcher's contents were steaming faintly in the moonlight, the flickering light of a small lamp on the tray tracing warm outlines on every surface.
"Extinguish that," he said brusquely. It was hard enough to see at night being half-blind, he didn't need any other lights interfering with his watch. The handmaiden hastily put out the lamp's flame. "What's in the pitcher?"
"Spiced wine, my lord. My lady thought you might need warming." Her voice was trembling very slightly. He'd have to try harder not to frighten her, it would seem. "My lady asked me to be ready to serve you tonight." He knew better than to think there was any double-meaning in the words. Mengde was yet again entrusting him with his life, after all.
"Ah, well, we may be up for a while then." He glanced at her. Just another handmaiden, pretty, girlish, sweet-voiced and subservient. They all did blend together after a while. "It is cool tonight. I think I will take a cup of that wine, if you please." She made a little curtsy and began to pour. "Do you fancy any?"
"Oh, no thank you, my lord." She handed him the cup. "It is very kind of you to ask, though."
He drank in silence, letting the heat and spices warm him. How many times had he done this, stood watch while his cousin lingered in some lady's chambers, romancing her until daybreak? Cao Cao and Xiahou Dun, up all night again. He disliked these nights the most, when he had to keep serious watch for his cousin's safety. This particular lady had some very dangerous relatives who would certainly not appreciate Cao Cao's presence, particularly in her bedchamber. He started slightly when the handmaiden carefully refilled his cup.
"Do you enjoy this?" he asked her. She stared at him, uncomprehending. "Being a handmaiden, serving, being at someone else's beck and call?"
"Well, my lord," she stammered. "It is not a terrible life, being a handmaiden. It is more pleasant than working on a farm, and I may one day have a fine husband instead of an ox drover." She paused. "Does my lord enjoy being a soldier, following orders?"
"Some days less than others. There are times though that I think it might be more pleasant to be an ox drover. The oxen at least don't argue." He laughed. "I suppose we aren't too much different. We're both out here tonight because someone else told us to be here. And I suppose we'll both still be out here come morning."
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