“You made me cut and dye my hair.”Surely he understands that we face greater problems? “I thought it would greatly improve your looks,” I snap.“Shorn hair is a sign of shame. You humiliate me greatly.”“I’ll light a candle tonight in honor of your dead tresses.”

“I knew someday you would realize your worth. Your worthiness.'I shake my head. 'Oh Ximena, he was right to choose me but not becuase of my worth...You, Cosme, Hector...were already willing to be heroes. But I would have done nothing, become nothing, were it not for this thing inside me. So you see, God picked me becuase I was unworthy.”

“You faced him down like a seasoned warrior," he [Hector] says. "Only because I had your daggers at my back.”

“Honor from death,” I snap, “is a myth. Invented by the war torn to make sense of the horrific. If we die, it will be so that others may live. Truly honorable death, the only honorable death, is one that enables life.”

“I almost panic then. The pleasure-power feeling flees, replaced by humiliation. It's obvious my husband doesn't recognize his own wife. Yet even in this public place, he can't be bothered to hide his admiration for a woman that he finds attractive. He used to stare at me so intently, like I was the only thing in the world. Have I changed so much? Or maybe that mesmerizing gaze was just a weapon in his arsenal of appeal. Maybe he never actually saw.Anger carries me the remaining distance. He is the one who should feel grimy with shame, not me.”

“If I were an enemy, and I started bearing down on you like this," he draws his sword, stretches the tip towards me, takes a single step in my direction, "what would you do?" Possibilities race through my head. Should I look for a weapon? Dodge and come up behind his guard? Trip him? Insult his mother?”

“Thank you for lending me the use of your maid. I tragically lost my lady-in-waiting on our journey and found Cosme's presence such a comfort.”