The youth was pleased to hear the pretty lady agree with him, and beamed broadly, before shooting a look towards Francois that was something akin to "haha" but communicated only with an expression. Francois of course, didn't notice, having returned his attention to his wine. The merchant woman was going through the camp gathering the empty bowls to wash. She smiled towards Guillemette. "I hope you enjoyed supper. I'm sure it's below your usual fare."
Imenry was content to sit there in silence, but this was surely not the case for the chevalier, because the woman turned her attention to her, and then spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. Imenry narrowed her eyes slightly. She could understand the words easily enough. It was the talking that still gave her some trouble after this time. But the Orlesian people seemed to enjoy the sound of their own voices. So speech was easy enough to pick up simply by listening wherever she went.
"It's far enough," she replied, speaking just as slowly. She didn't like to talk or think about her home at the moment. It was just too soon, the wound too raw. It wouldn't hurt if she fibbed a little bit. She'd never see this fancy Orlesian knight again. "I'm from Ferelden." It was the story she'd given most people and easily accepted. After all, it was the language she spoke, and the place that her people had originally come from.
Most Orlesians thought very little of Ferelden, but that also meant they didn't know all that much about it and it's more remote settlements. They would accept her story without question. And they also assumed that people from Ferelden were little more than barbarians, so wrote off her 'uncivilized' ways and appearance as a side effect from that.