After serving the chevalier, and making sure she was comfortable, the merchant woman, served up food for the rest of the party. They got cheaper wine if they wanted, or imported ale, or simply water. Imenry took the ale, though it was weak compared to the brew made back home, and some of that fine dwarven beverage she'd sampled on Captain Viara's ship. She ate in silence for a time, finding the stew a bit too rich for her tastes, but not terrible. Washing down the last bite with a swig of ale she glanced over as the chevalier spoke.
Her Orlesian was passable on a good day, so she didn't bother trying to answer, though she understood what had been asked. The young one spoke up, taking a quick swallow of his dinner. "None yet. I guess having you chevaliers on the road has made a difference. Still, you can't ever be too careful right?" He grinned at her, looking just as green behind the gills as he was. Far too cheery for a mercenary. "Of course, we've only been traveling a few days now... to answer your question. Going all the way to Jader, eventually."
At this the drunken man sat up from his supper long enough to murmur his agreement. Imenry had nothing to add on the matter and she set her empty bowl aside, drinking her ale and watching the flames dancing over the fire. She found she was anxious to get back to the east. Those lands had been more familiar, even though according to the maps her home was technically in southern Orlesian territory. She hadn't grown up with their language and their ways.
She glanced at the woman again, studying the delicate drops that hung from her ears, the way she held the crystal goblet so naturally in her hand, the way she had not a hair out of place, even how she sat, so straight and proper, on a log at a campsite even! If the woman noticed her perusal she might not know what Imenry was even thinking, her expression rather blank. Perhaps she could be considered merely curious about the other. Quietly she was rather hoping she didn't try to speak with her.