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When you’re different, even just a little different, even in a way that people can’t see, you like to know that people in power won’t judge you for it.
It doesn’t make you a hero just because everybody else didn’t do their job.”
You expect heroes to survive terrible things. If you give them a medal, then you don’t ever have to ask why the terrible thing happened in the first place. Or try to fix it.”
“You didn’t fail,” I said. “They wouldn’t let you succeed. It’s different.”
If you have ever prepared for a siege in two days, then you know what the next few days were like. If you haven’t, then you probably don’t. Well…a big formal wedding is about the same (and because we do cakes, I’ve been on the periphery of a few), except that if things go wrong in a siege you’ll all die horribly, and in formal weddings, the stakes are much higher.
My face felt hot. Having a grown-up mad at me…I mean, here I was, trying to save the city from being overrun by cannibal mercenaries, and I felt sick to my stomach because the cook was mad at me. Being fourteen has a lot of drawbacks.
Death by sourdough starter. Not a good way to go.
Heroism is an unfortunate habit.”
“Heroism is a bad habit. Once you’ve done it, other people start to expect it. If the city’s in danger again, everybody will remember that you saved them last time, and they’ll forget all the nasty exhausting bits where you nearly died and had to sleep for a week and your headache didn’t go away for three days.”
After a minute, I said, “I never wanted to be a hero.” His face was solemn. “Nobody ever does.”
