"I can't believe you didn't tell me!"
Henri rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed.
"I'm serious, Henri. After what she's done to me, how could you?"
He looked at her again, carefully. Were those tears of anger, just starting to form? Of disappointment, of what, precisely? Her black hair had fallen forward, strands of it catching at the edge of that fine Vodacce mouth he'd kissed once, long ago. It seemed like long ago, at any rate. It was only a few months, when he counted them. She was speaking again, and he snapped back from that fond recollection.
" ...and we're an hour or two outside of Barcino before I know where we are and no one will tell me what happened! Damn it, Henri, look at me!"
She had grabbed him by the shoulders, hard, shaking him. He winced at the grip. She was easily as strong as he was, looked him in the eye from the same height. So why were her hands trembling?
"Asgard... I tried to bring this up before, I really did. Haven't I been writing the woman poetry for months now?"
"Well, sure, but I thought that was just... you know, another one of your... " she let the sentence trail off.
"Another one of my lies? Another underhanded little scheme to get us out of a fix? Another ace in the hole, for the day when my dirty little tricks caught up with me? Is that what you thought?"
"Frankly, yes."
He rocked back as though slapped.
"Maybe, a little, at first. My lies have a way of becoming real, though. I'm a little too skilled for my own good, and even my own heart believes what I write these days."
"Fine. Love her. I don't care. You just keep her out of my sight, or she's dead."
"You can't mean that."
"I do mean that!" the blood had leapt into her eyes at this, burning coals that matched her flushed face. "You don't know what it was like to be in the same room with that... that monster!"
He was geniunely perplexed now.
"What on earth did she do that was so horrible? I mean, I remember that bruise on your cheek, after you'd dumped wine onto her uniform, but you were laughing about it when you told me. Asgard, what happened?"
"She called me-- called me a-- oh, Henri, this sounds so silly. I was talking with the governor, trying to get information out of him, you know. You remember Casa Blanca. We needed everything we could learn about his plans, every scrap of information we could get."
"I remember, Asgard. You hit on the idea of becoming his mistress, or posing as one, to learn everything you could from him. You even cooked in his kitchen, as I recall. it."
"She called me a 'stupid cow,' all right? Do you get it? That's all I was to her, understand? A stupid cow, flashing my udders in a stupid dress, sleeping with a stupid Montie bastard in hopes of a few crumpled Guilders and a drink. Do you have any idea how that feels? Do you?"
He cocked an eyebrow, stifled a chuckle, then laughed out loud. Quickly, he ducked a pitcher from the bedside table she'd flung at him, then raised his hands.
"Asgard, don't you see? You were brilliant! You learned everything there was to learn from him! We got out alive. We saved the children he was holding hostage, got them all the way to San Cristobal. We did it all perfectly, because of you. And she never suspected a thing, because she mistook you for what you were pretending to be."
She set the chamber-pot back down, unsure whether to follow through on throwing that as well.
"You were playing a stupid cow at the time. The same way that I was playing a snotty pederast in Barcino. I'll wager that what stung so much was the worry that she was right. That that's all you are. That you have nothing to offer the world but your body."
Her jaw clenched again, and tears of rage began to spill.
"It's not true, you know." His voice was gentle. "You have more strength and more courage than you ever give yourself credit for. You're very likely the most courageous woman I know. The only person who doesn't see your value... is you."
She lunged at him, raising her fists, and as she began to bring them down the wave broke. She half fell, feeling his arms catch her, and she sagged into them and began to weep in long racking sobs. He held her in that helpless way men have always had, and likely always will, letting the storm of tears blow itself out. She pushed up and away, straightening her hair, wiping her face.
"I must look ridiculous."
"No, just like some stupid Vodacce cow-- hey!" She'd slugged his shoulder, which he rubbed slowly.
"Thanks, Henri."
"Any time, lovely heroine. It was even true."
She laughed, a welcome sound, and arranged her dress.
"Touché, Henri. You still haven't told me what happened that night in Barcino."
"Shall I?"
"Forget it. It can wait. Anyway, I don't feel up to another dance like the last one we just had." She opened the door to the hallway.
He stood, bowed slightly.
"As you please. Au revoir, Asgard."
"Arrivederci, Henri."