More with Wong

"Master."
"Enter, Rhia."
"Yes, Master." She slipped into the room and made her way over to the oversized arm chair Wong was sitting in. He'd changed so much after his wife had died three months before, and it disappointed her. She felt pain that one she'd grown to care for so much was hurting so terribly, but it also made her nervous with how bored she was becoming. For the half a year she'd been in his service, the first half before his wife's death had been such a challenge. He'd pushed her to the limits of her servitude, willing her to become the Typhoon she was known to be but the collar around her neck forbade. But now, after the wife's death by tuberculosis shortly after their son was born, Rhia was left to do the duties of a slave for her master, whom was said before to be deeply cared for.
Still, as she set the tray down on the table beside the chair and prepared the tea just to her master's liking, she couldn't help but think back to the day he'd found her, tossed out once again into the slave market after eight previous owners. She'd been disobediant, violent, and unreponsive to any punishment or reprimand. But the disposition of this man had proved a challenge right from the start. He was not deterred or even the slightest bit miffed by the knowledge that she was the legendary Typhoon, who'd taken out entire companies of dragons in the infamous Dragon and Elf War two millenia earlier. In fact, this knowledge seemed only to excite him.
She knelt there in the dust of the market streets, left tethered to a pole for any master to claim, a note before her warning those interested of who she was. She longed to escape this boorish cycle of slavery, but her collar, enchanted by those who'd captured her, held her fast to her chains. Just as the day was waning and she was beginning to dread a twelfth night on that market street, she saw a dusty pair of boots stop just in front of her. She slowly lifted her gaze, taking in the deep maroon-coloured cloak that surrounded the rest of his figure, then his sharp Asian features. She wasn't sure what it was - the shape of his face maybe; rounder than the Japanese she saw everyday - but she had a feeling there was a strong influence of the Mainland in his blood. Knelt there before him in only scraps of clothes about her, she took in his little smile and at once knew this would be different and, hopefully, interesting. She couldn't help but faintly smile back. This pleased him.
"Kolareny the Typhoon. Is it really you?" When she gave no response, he continued. "It is time, I believe, that I take you home."
Quietly, but with no hesitation and her eyes still on his face - the collar did not permit eye contact; it was improper - she responded, "As you wish, Master." This, too, pleased him.
Rhia sighed some as she let the memory escape her. She took back the tea cup given to Wong, and when he didn't dismiss her with the usual wave of his hand, she went and knelt down beside his feet, seating herself on her heels. She let her gaze follow his out the great bay window overlooking the back property from the third floor of the mansion. While lost in thought, she felt her Master's hand come to rest on top of her head. The feel of his strong hand so gently caressing her hair made her smile. She did so adore her master. As his fingertips lightly passed over her ear, she felt herself grow tired. Her head came to rest on his knee, eyes sliding shut as Wong continued to run his fingers over her hair and the side of her face.
"Master?" she asked with her eyes still closed.
"Yes, Rhia?" His voice was quiet, but she could sense his eyes turn to look at her.
"Are you going to be okay?" She sounded worried, and by the soft intake of breath from Wong, she guessed he was surprised.
"I'll be fine, Rhia. I have you taking care of me." This, in turn, pleased her.