Defy the Sun (Beware the Night #2) - Jessika Fleck Page 0,97

word and turning the tables on Raevald, both Bronwyn and Salazar are rapt.

“I heard stirrings about this among the Dogio as I walked through the market this morning. I always take note, but also always take rumors with a grain of salt. But this was most definitely the talk. Your mother does have pull.”

I send Bronwyn away with a handful of medallions and a message should she see Veda. “Just tell her, ‘to the stars.’”

Once Bronwyn is on her way, Salazar runs down my day’s schedule: a door-to-door campaign to convince Dogio to sign on as soldiers instead of officers. Soldiers fight, and we need bodies, not leaders. After that I’m scheduled to give one large rallying speech in the market square.

“The Dogio part won’t be easy,” Salazar says what I’m thinking. “They expect to be put in charge. Some see being on the front lines as grunt work. Far below them.”

“I’ll think of something, but first, I have to see my mother, find out where things are on her end.”

“Excellent.” There’s a fire in his eyes. I recognize it because it’s the same one I know is lighting my chest ablaze this very minute.

Because this might actually work.

* * *

MORE IMPERI SOLDIERS patrol the Dogio village than ever. Checking the newly added wire fencing around the homes. Searching the surrounding woods. Tacking up new postings touting the Imperi’s most recent victory over the Night.

“Is something going on?” I ask Salazar.

“Not that I’m aware. Though…” He glances from one guard post to the next, speaks under his breath as he feigns scratching his nose. “Unless the High Regent’s gotten wind of your mother’s whisper campaign against him.” He picks up the pace. “I wouldn’t put it past him to,” he clears his throat, “inquire.”

“But wouldn’t you have heard about it?”

“Not necessarily. He’s very private. Keeps things to himself, even from me from time to time.” He shrugs. “For all we know, they’re here in anticipation of what is sure to be a rousing speech from their heir.”

“Indeed.” That. I’ve not put any thought into that yet.

First things first … my mother.

As I walk up the road toward my home, several of my neighbors step out onto their doorsteps. Most wave. Some tip their hats. Others only watch. The mood is … eerie. Like everything is happening in slow motion.

When I reach my door, I don’t get my hand on the knob before my father swings it open. He’s dressed up more than he usually would be while at home: black suit, red scarf, dress boots polished, hair slicked to the side. “Nicoli!” He’s clearly taken aback. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“No … I apologize…” I glance around his shoulder, see there are several Dogio men and women sitting at the formal dining table. “I was in the area, so I thought I’d stop in to visit Mother. Is she here?”

“I’m not available—deep in a meeting—but your mother is out back tending her garden.”

Her garden … Last I saw there’s nothing to tend but weeds.

I begin to step inside to cut through, but he sort of scoots in front of me, blocking my way. “Would you mind going around?” He leans in. “No offense, but if you walk in there, you’ll never get out—they’ll rope you into a hundred different conversations and requests.” He motions I get going.

I believe him. Though something’s off.

As I walk around my house, make my way to the back and the tall iron gate, I see exactly what’s throwing everyone so completely askew. There, on a newly erected wall and facing the Dogio village just before the forest takes over is a mural. One that stops me in my tracks.

Larger than life, at least ten feet tall and just as wide, is a crude painting of the Sun casting down red light over Imperi Palace. Above the art, in grim black lettering, are the words: HOW MANY MORE IMPERI SOLDIERS MUST DIE? RAEVALD’S WAR IS CURSED.

“Nico!” My mother calls from the other side of the fence, startling me. She opens the gate and sees what I’m staring at. “Oh … That…” And she winks. The woman actually winks at me.

I lean in. “You?”

She shoos me away. “I would never…” But the way she says it … It wasn’t her who physically painted the thing, that I know, but she definitely had something to do with it. Then she admits, “The key is knowing how to play to your audience.”

“Is that what Father’s meeting is about?”

She goes back

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