Henry blinked in incomprehension. "A monster?" he asked incredulously. He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze searching, as if he were trying to see what on earth would make this woman ask such a question.
She'd been hiding her face until then, but Henry could not imagine why: it was as normal a face as any he'd ever seen. Even kinda pretty, he supposed. If this husband of hers had told her she looked like a monster often enough for her to believe it, he must be a real jerk. But then... if that were the case why would they go looking for him?
"No, you don't. And no, I don't mind," he answered her, shaking his head. He was still confused; it showed in his voice. But confused was something he was used to. However, then he remembered how soft-spoken, how normal, someone else had seemed at first... someone he'd come to fear more than anything. He paused for a moment in that reflection, and then asked her, "Is there something I should be worried about?"
Not that if there really was, she would tell him, but her reaction might give him some clue what was going on with her. After all, she was certainly giving him cause to wonder about that. She seemed nice, though; he didn't want to think badly of her. On the other hand, he didn't much want her pulling out a knife or something when his back was turned, either. He'd been so trusting once, but that was before... no more could he be that naive.