Page 57 of A Song to Drown Rivers
“Yes. That must be why,” she murmured, closing her eyes. I had to lower my head just to hear her. “I feel… better already.”
I wrapped my coat tighter around her, feeling the warmth of her skin fade. Her pulse ran as shallow as a mountain creek in the dry winter, and it was growing duller by the second. Zhengdan. My brave, beautiful, reckless friend. My family away from home. The girl who should have lived a hundred summers, burning as bright as a comet in the sky. Now I watched her light die.
“It hurts,” she croaked.
“What does?”
“Everything.” Then, as if she regretted saying it aloud, amended: “Only… a little, though. I can… handle it.”
I cradled her neck and felt my heart collapse.
“Jiejie…” She looked like she was about to tell me something, but when she opened her mouth again, no sound came out, just a dark trickle of blood.Jiejie.A sound rose inside me, part sob and part scream. All this time, I had grieved the death of one sister—I could not bear to grieve another. It was too much.
Her head lolled back in my lap. She had gone completely still, her pulse silent as a grave, but I held on to her. Rubbed her limp, frozen hands to warm them. I would light the fire. I would heat up this whole room. And when that didn’t work—I would burn this kingdom down to ashes, turn all its men into smoke. I would, I would.
I did not weep.
My tears had run dry, my heart a dark chasm. Any lingering sentiment, any softness—it had been scrubbed completely clean, like the sand from inside a dosinia shell. All that remained was a white, cold fury. And I knew exactly what I had to do.
I set Zhengdan’s body back down on the ground. Wiped her blood from my fingers. Straightened my cloak. As I turned, I caught my reflection in the bronze mirror on her bedside table; my face looked hollow, my eyes so black they seemed to absorb all light. For the first time, I caught a shadow of the enchantress they all said I was, the legend I would become. I could barely even recognize myself.
Then I walked back to my chambers all alone, my back straight and my footsteps firm as though nothing had happened, and awaited the news.
Just as expected, Fuchai came later that afternoon, his mouth set into a grim line. “There’s something I must tell you,” he said. His voice was soft, and he looked genuinely regretful. Perhaps he already felt guilty about the meeting with Fanli, now that he’d come to the conclusion Fanli was no threat. “I’d suggest you sit down first.”
I sat obediently on my bed with a look of perfect confusion. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s the palace lady, Zhengdan,” he told me.Of course it is.He reached for my hands, the same hands that had cradled Zhengdan’s cheeks while she withered, her insides eaten away by poison. I could still smell the stench of herbs and blood in her room. I could still feel the unnatural coolness of her skin. Bile bubbled in my throat; I swallowed it, forced myself to keep still. “She was caught stealing, and as a result…” He hesitated. “She has been punished. They’ve already buried her body.”
It was then that I delivered one of the greatest performances ofmy life. My body swayed, as if I might faint. I let the shock show on my face, then anguish, my eyes wide and my lips trembling. A shame that nobody else was around to appreciate my acting. Zhengdan would have found it impressive. “What?” I said.
“I understand this can be quite overwhelming,” he continued, rubbing a consoling hand over my back. “Especially since she has served you for a while now. But General Ma spotted her taking a highly valuable dagger with his own eyes. That same dagger was found later in her bedchambers. We are not sure what she intended to do with it but… The evidence is irrefutable.”
I stared at him and wondered how big a role he’d played in helping plant that evidence there. Had he lent the dagger to General Ma himself? Or had he simply turned a blind eye as his ever-helpful minister, Wu Zixu, plotted the scheme under his nose? “That’s terrible,” I made myself say, dabbing at my eyes with my sleeve. “But—well, in that case… I’m glad you’re safe. I hate to think what might’ve happened otherwise.”
His pupils narrowed into two small, dark points. I felt his fingers tremble. “Truly?”
“Truly, what?”
“You care so much about my safety?” He gazed down at me fiercely, the look in his eyes wild and hopeful and terrible. His grip tightened over me, but for all his firmness, his kingly authority, I could sense the uncertainty quivering beneath it, like a young boy clutching desperately to a kite string, afraid it would fly away at any moment.
“Of course,” I lied. It was all I ever did these days. “You are what matters most to me. There is nobody else but you.”
He released a sigh through his teeth. Lay back on the bed beside me. “Sometimes,” he murmured, “I admit… I find it hard to believe that you could ever reciprocate what I feel. You must knowwhat you do to my heart.” He tugged my hand down as he spoke, bringing it to his chest. I felt the rapidthud-thud-thudof his heart. How easy it would be, I wondered, my eyes fluttering shut briefly, to rip it out.
Patience, I willed myself. One step at a time.
“Are you convinced now, my king?” I asked, lying down next to him until our shoulders were close to touching. With my other hand, I turned and stroked his cheek with all the false tenderness I could muster. “Or do you need more convincing still?”
“I… No.” He swallowed. “After today, you have more than persuaded me.” Then he looked at me again, his eyes fringed by those long lashes. “Are you really all right? I always thought you were quite fond of her.”
A dagger jumped to my throat. I savored the pain silently, let it harden me. “It’s you I’m worried about, Fuchai,” I said.
“Me?”
“Think: In one day, the Yue’s military advisor has been greatly injured, and their hand-chosen tribute has been killed. If word of any of this reaches King Goujian, I’m afraid it would greatly sour the relationship between the two kingdoms. Wars have been waged for less, have they not?”
He frowned, but didn’t speak.
