To be fair, I assumed she could grow it back, or change her Aspect the way I could. My mistake. How could I have known? Apparently, the Aesir can’t change their shape like the Vanir can. But the Goddess of Plenty has a great deal tied up, so to speak, in her hair; it’s where most of her powers lie, and without knowing it, in a single snip, Yours Truly had robbed her, not only of her beauty, but also of her Goddess Aspect.

Of course that wasn’t my fault – but after due consideration I decided it might be wise to leave before the lady woke up. I left the hair on her pillow; perhaps she could make it into a wig, or something. Or maybe I could make her believe that the damage was somehow the result of one too many peroxide treatments. Either way, I figured that she wouldn’t dare tell Thor about our night of passion.

Well, I was right about that part. But I hadn’t counted on the fact that Thor, arriving home from one of his trips to find his wife sporting a pixie crop some five hundred years before they came into vogue, would instantly (and unfairly) conclude that I was the probable culprit.

‘What happened to the presumption of innocence?’ I protested, as I was dragged without ceremony to the foot of Allfather’s throne.

Odin gave me his dead eye. At his side, Sif, in a turban, fixed me with the kind of stare that blights crops at a distance.

‘It was a joke!’ I told them.

Thor picked me up by the hair. ‘A joke?’

I considered shifting to Wildfire Aspect, but Thor was wearing his fireproof gauntlets. That meant no escape for Yours Truly, whatever form I tried to take.

‘You don’t think she looks kinda cute?’ I said, looking appealingly at Sif. Some women look good with short hair. But even I couldn’t bring myself to say that Sif was one of them.

‘All right. I’m sorry! What can I say? It’s the Chaos in me.’ I tried to explain. ‘I wanted to see what would happen if—’

Thor growled: ‘Well, so you know. The first thing that’s going to happen is that I’m going to break every miserable bone in your body. One by one. How’s that for a joke?’

‘I’d really rather you didn’t,’ I said. ‘I’m still not good with the pain thing, and—’

‘That’s just fine by me,’ said Thor.

I looked at Odin. ‘Brother, please . . .’

Odin shook his head and sighed. ‘What do you expect me to do?’ he said. ‘You cut off his wife’s hair, for gods’ sakes, and you deserve to pay for it. Pay, or get out of Asgard. It’s up to you. I’ve done what I could.’