Defy the Sun (Beware the Night #2) - Jessika Fleck Page 0,29
but the storm of angry shouting by Imperi and Bellonians both is undeniable. Halfway up the lengthy cobbled walkway to the doors, I force a glance over my shoulder, where I catch sight of the guards trying to disperse the crowd. Several are shoving sharp poles through the slats in the fence to force people off the barricade.
I have to make myself not react to the Imperi’s aggressiveness. Setting my sights to the front door, I square my shoulders, adjust my pace. I need not rush nor stagger but walk with steady purpose. Putting all of my focus into the task at hand, a few things still steal my attention. First is the barking. The High Regent’s guard dogs are in fine form—I can only assume the out-of-character racket has them completely unhinged.
Then there is the group of Bellonians being shoved along the outside of the surrounding fence by a few angry guards. They must have tried to sneak around the side to get a better look.
But it’s the last thing I see before reaching the palace that catches me off guard. At the rear of the group being led away is a Basso prisoner. What gives me pause is how he isn’t part of the other crowd but clearly under arrest, hands bound, and attached to an Imperi officer. Not so strange in and of itself, but the prisoner has a familiarity about him and as our sights briefly connect, I am momentarily pulled from the present. From my task. My focus.
Looking more closely, a hat covers most of the boy’s face, but I can’t help the feeling I know him. Or have maybe seen him? Perhaps talked with him on some odd occasion?
But I won’t get a chance to squint for a better look.
Once the palace steps are before me, the boy is gone.
The grand return-of-the-heir entrance I’ve built up is upon me.
I’d planned to beat the great golden doors down with my fists, but, always one step ahead, Imperi guards swing open the doors, unceremoniously ushering me straight inside. The thick double doors close with an echoing latch behind me.
From there, I am pulled along through winding hallway after winding hallway. The interior of the High Regent’s palace passes by me in a gold and crystal blur.
* * *
YES, I’VE MADE it inside unscathed, a victory in and of itself. But the hard part is yet to come.
My heart raps full force as the guards lead me down a lamplit hallway, door after door lining the walls. Body and mind on high alert, my eyes catch every possible shadow.
I brace myself at each turn of the corner.
With every door we pass by.
I force the most authoritarian voice I can muster and stop by digging my heels into the polished marble floor. “I demand you explain where you’re taking me!”
The two soldiers halt to a stop.
The guard to my left, young, probably his second year or so as an officer, gives a sheepish look to the other, more senior guard.
“My sincerest apologies, my lord,” Chevreau, the senior officer, says with a slight bow. “We should have explained. The High Regent’s orders were to deliver you to him as swiftly as possible.” I stare. “For safety and security, of course.” I nod. “The crowd posed a significant danger to both you and the palace.”
“Right,” I say. “I appreciate it, officer.” And I’m ready to keep moving, but neither of them takes a step until I do and we’re off again.
Now I’m more relaxed but still confused. I’d assumed they’d have me seen by a doctor. Cleaned up at least. But apparently, Raevald is as anxious to see me as I am reluctant to face him.
I dig deep. Adjust my expectations.
The High Regent … You’re going to be face-to-face with Raevald. You’re the heir. Heir to all of Bellona.
Now act like it, damn it.
* * *
SHOULDERS SQUARED, head held high, trying my best to ignore the fire spreading between my shoulder blades, I make sure to walk one step ahead of them. Sure, I have no idea where we are going. It doesn’t matter.
I’m heir.
Finally, we stop outside an unassuming door.
Enter.
The younger officer closes the door behind us, and once again I am on edge. Suspicious this is all some ruse and at any minute I’ll be taken straight to my Offering.
“Please, take a seat, my lord. The High Regent will be with you shortly,” Chevreau says, motioning toward one of two identical chairs.