True. She could judge her conduct, they could not. Nor, I realized bitterly, could I. I had been feeling angry at her (even though I knew it didn't matter) for calling in her maids and starting to ready for bed with these lunks present—and I had intended to tell her not to let it happen again. I resolved not to raise that issue.
Shortly Star chopped them off. "He's right. You're wrong. Settle it that way. Get out."
But I did intend to sneak it in by objecting to her bringing "tradespeople" home.
Star beat me to the punch. The instant we were alone she said, "My love, forgive me. I agreed to hear this silly mix-up and it dragged on and on, then I thought I could finish it quickly if I got them out of chairs, made them stand up here, and made clear that I was bored. I never thought they would wrangle another hour before I could squeeze out the real issue. And I knew that, if I put it over till tomorrow, they would stretch it into hours. But the problem was important, I couldn't drop it." She sighed. "That ridiculous man—Yet such people scramble to high places. I considered having him fool-killed. Instead I must let him correct his error, or the situation will break out anew."
I couldn't even hint that she had ruled the way she had out of annoyance; the man she had chewed out was the one in whose favor she had ruled. So I said, "Let's go to bed, you're tired"—and then didn't have sense enough to refrain from judging her myself.
Chapter 19
We went to bed.
Presently she said, "Oscar, you are displeased."
"I didn't say so."
"I feel it. Nor is it Just tonight and those tedious clowns. You have been withdrawing yourself, unhappy." She waited.
"It's nothing."
"Oscar, anything which troubles you can never be ‘nothing' to me. Although I may not realize it until I know what it is."
"Well—I feel so damn useless!"
She put her soft, strong hand on my chest. "To me you are not useless. Why do you feel useless to yourself?"
"Well—look at this bed!" It was a bed the like of which Americans never dream; it could do everything but kiss you good night—and, like the city, it was beautiful, its bones did not show. "This sack, at home, would cost more—if they could build it—than the best house my mother ever lived in."
She thought about that. "Would you like to send money to your mother?" She beckoned the bedside communicator. "Is Elmendorf Air Force Base of America address enough?"
(I don't recall ever telling her where Mother lived.) "No, no!" I gestured at the talker, shutting it off. "I do not want to send her money. Her husband supports her. He won't take money from me. That's not the point."
"Then I don't see the point as yet. Beds do not matter, it is who is in a bed that counts. My darling, if you don't like this bed, we can get another. Or sleep on the floor. Beds do not matter."
"This bed is okay. The only thing wrong is that I didn't pay for it. You did. This house. My clothes. The food I eat. My—my toys! Every damned thing I have you gave me. Know what I am. Star? A gigolo! Do you Know what a gigolo is? A somewhat-male prostitute."
One of my wife's most exasperating habits was, sometimes, to refuse to snap back at me when she knew I was spoiling for a row. She looked at me thoughtfully. "America is a busy place, isn't it? People work all the time, especially men."
"Well...yes."
"It isn't the custom everywhere, even on Earth. A Frenchman isn't unhappy if he has free time; he orders another cafe au lait and lets the saucers pile up. Nor am I fond of work. Oscar, I ruined our evening from laziness, too anxious to avoid having to redo a weary task tomorrow. I will not make that mistake twice."
"Star, that doesn't matter. That's over with."
"I know. The first issue is rarely the key. Nor the second. Nor, sometimes, the twenty-second. Oscar, you are not a gigolo."
"What do you call it? When it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck and acts like a duck, I call it a duck. Call it a bunch of roses. It still quacks."
"No. All this around us—" She waved. "Bed. This beautiful chamber. The food we eat. My clothes and yours. Our lovely pools. The night majordomo on watch against the chance that you or I might demand a singing bird or a ripe melon. Our captive gardens. All we see or touch or use or fancy—and a thousand times as much in distant places, all these you earned with your own strong hands; they are yours, by right."
I snorted. "They are," she insisted. "That was our contract. I promised you great adventure, and greater treasure, and even greater danger. You agreed. You said, ‘Princess, you've hired yourself a boy.' " She smiled. "Such a big boy. Darling, I think the dangers were greater than you guessed...so it has pleased me, until now, that the treasure is greater than you were likely to have guessed. Please don't be shy about accepting it. You have earned it and more—as much as you are ever willing to accept"
"Uh—Even if you are right, it's too much. I'm drowning in marshmallows!"
"But, Oscar, you don't have to take one bit you don't want. We can live simply. In one room with bed folded into wall if it pleases you."
"That's no solution."
"Perhaps you would like bachelor digs, out in town?"
" ‘Tossing my shoes,' eh?"
She said levelly, "My husband, if your shoes are ever tossed, you must toss them. I jumped over your sword. I shall not jump back."
"Take it easy!" I said. "It was your suggestion. If I took it wrong, I'm sorry. I know you don t go back on your word. But you might be regretting it."
"I am not regretting it. Are you?"
"No, Star, no! But—"
"That's a long pause for so short a word," she said gravely. "Will you tell me?"
"Uh...that's just it. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell what, Oscar? There are so many things to tell."
"Well, a lot of things. What I was getting into. About you being the Empress of the whole works, in particular...before you let me jump over the sword with you."
Her face did not change but tears rolled down her cheeks. "I could answer that you did not ask me—"
"I didn't know what to ask!"
"That is true. I could assert, truthfully, that had you asked I would have answered. I could protest that I did not ‘let you' jump over the sword, that you overruled my protests that it was not necessary to offer me the honor of marriage by the laws of your people...that I was a wench you could tumble at will. I could point out that I am not an empress, not royal, but a working woman whose job does not permit her even the luxury of being noble. All these are true. But I will not hide behind them; I will meet your question." She slipped into Nevian. "Milord Hero, I feared sorely that if I did not bend to your will, you would leave me!"
"Milady wife, truly did you think that your champion would desert you in your peril?" I went on in English, "Well, that nails it to the barn. You married me because the Egg damned well had to be recovered and Your Wisdom told you that I was necessary to the job—and might bug out if you didn't. Well, Your Wisdom wasn't sharp on that point; I don't bug out. Stupid of me but I'm stubborn." I started to get out of bed.
"Milord love!" She was dying openly.
"Excuse me. Got to find a pair of shoes. See how far I can throw them." I was being nasty as only a man can be who has had his pride wounded.
"Please, Oscar, please! Hear me first."
I heaved a sigh. "Talk ahead."
She grabbed my hand so hard I would have lost fingers had I tried to pull loose. "Hear me out. My beloved, it was not that at all. I knew that you would not give up our quest until it was finished or we were dead. I knew! Not only had I reports reaching back years before I ever saw you but also we had shared joy and danger and hardship; I knew your mettle. But, had it been needed, I could have bound you with a net of words, persuaded you to agree to betrothal only—until the quest was over. You are a romantic, you would have agreed. But, darling, darling! I wanted to many you...bind you to me by your rules, so that"—she stopped to sniff back tears—"so that, when you saw all this, and this, and this, and the things you call ‘your toys,' you still would stay with me. It was not politics, it was low—love romantic and unreasoned, love for your own sweet self."