They know what you have done, what you have sacrificed. You stopped a war and saved our kingdom. You’re a hero, Xishi.” A hero. The word sounded strange, like it had nothing to do with me. I did not feel heroic at all. I barely even felt human. I remembered again the sticky heat of Fuchai’s blood on my palms, the weight of Zhengdan’s limp body on my legs, every night passed alone in the dark palace chambers. How long until the memories dimmed? Or would this be another of my sacrifices—that I would carry these ghosts with me for as long as I lived?
