Defy the Sun (Beware the Night #2) - Jessika Fleck Page 0,61

our beaches, stake claim over the Crag? The Night is the definition of dark. Evil. And we, Bellona, are the light. The good in this world shines down with the Sun and on his people. Underground? Living in darkness and decay?” He takes a small step so he’s standing against the railing. Placing his hands on the stone, he gazes out over his great congregation. “The Night is the rotten underbelly of our glorious island. And we cannot let the disease spread. We must defeat them.”

Again, the crowd roars. He patiently waits until he has their undivided attention, surveying the packed Coliseum with pride. “But enough about that. Today is a glorious occasion and one I’m confident will turn the tide and give us more strength over our enemies. We’ve won back our heir—” Here he’s actually interrupted with applause, and I catch him flinching under the intrusion. It’s slight, but it’s there—he hadn’t expected it. And he doesn’t like not having control, but … “Yes … Of course…” Raevald joins in, slowly bringing his hands together and tipping his head toward me.

Unsure of how to proceed, I stand and wave, nod toward the crowd. Humble. Thankful. Playing the part of grateful heir. But this time the Bellonians don’t quiet on their own. And this time the High Regent actually hushes them by forcefully placing the speaking trumpet back to his mouth. “Because of how blessed we’ve been”—he shakes his head in what I’d bet is feigned disbelief—“truly, the Sun has blessed us … And because of that, in thanks, I’m going to turn this ceremony over to your heir.” He wouldn’t. “Future High Regent to all of Bellona.” He can’t. “Heir Nico Denali!”

We did not go over this. This wasn’t the plan.

The man hands me his prized golden speaking trumpet and takes a seat.

The High Regent actually takes a seat during one of his esteemed Offerings. The crown jewel of his legacy.

Just. Like. That.

As I make my way to the railing, all I hear is my own breath. Each beat of my heart. The silence is suffocating, closing in all around me. Sure, this Coliseum is the largest structure in all of Bellona, but in this moment, it might as well be a matchbox.

Clearing my throat, I sneak a quick glance back at Raevald. Palms pressed together, his hands are poised beneath his chin like he’s praying. Perhaps he is. Praying I won’t embarrass him. Praying I don’t accidentally fall over the railing. Or, on second thought, maybe he’s praying for that to happen. I’m getting the very real sense he’s not too thrilled when I receive more attention than he does.

He catches my eye. Raises his eyebrows. Doesn’t give me anything to go on. Zero direction.

This is another test, I know it is. And it’s confirmed further when Salazar sneaks into my periphery. From behind the High Regent, he’s waving his arms, nudging me to turn back around and get on with it.

Right.

The Offering.

I take a breath. Place the metal mouthpiece to my lips. “Blessed be the light.”

“Blessed be the light,” the crowd responds back.

This goes far beyond you, Nico. Beyond poor, poor James Reed. Even beyond Raevald. You must do this and do it right.

I’m not sure what comes over me, but it’s as if Nico steps away and the heir steps in. Takes control. And I let him, because this is life or death.

With casual confidence, I place one hand in my pocket, hold the cone at my lips with the other. “The High Regent is right. It’s a miracle by divine order that I stand before you now. We cannot let such miracles pass in vain or without thanks. We need the Sun to continue to bless us, which brings me to…” I pause for effect. “Your Offering.”

It’s subtle but significant, and something I know won’t be lost on Raevald. Changing the wording from “the Offering” to “your Offering” grants them ownership of something sacred. Something that could help us win the war. And when you have ownership over something, you treat it with reverence. With care. You’re less likely to fight it. It’s sick to twist what’s about to happen in this way, but right now I’m Heir Denali, High Regent Raevald’s successor.

Heir Denali will twist things for the greater good.

“Bring out the Offered!” I shout into the cone. “That praiseworthy soul.” Without an ounce of shame, I steal Raevald’s usual, well-rehearsed monologue. It’s just what he doesn’t expect and what he didn’t know