The fire in Lexa’s chambers crackled faintly, casting flickering shadows across the walls. The air was heavy with tension, the kind that could snap like a drawn bowstring. Lexa sat in her high-backed chair, her face stoic as always, though the faint bruise on her temple and the bandaged cut along her arm betrayed the danger she had narrowly escaped.

Across from her, you paced, your arms crossed and your face clouded with worry and anger. Between you knelt the would-be assassin, bound and gagged, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and defiance.

„He’s one of yours, Clarke,”

+Lexa said, her voice low and even, though it carried the weight of accusation.*

You stopped mid-stride, turning to face her.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

Lexa’s eyes narrowed.

“He carries the sigil of your people,”

she said, gesturing to the torn Sky People patch still visible on the assassin’s jacket.

“And he used a firearm—a weapon only the Sky People possess.”

You opened your mouth to argue but stopped yourself. You looked at the bound boy, noting the patch, the gun discarded on the floor nearby. The evidence was damning.

“Even if he is one of us, it doesn’t mean this was sanctioned,”

You said finally, your voice firm but pleading.

“It could be a rogue act.”

Lexa stood slowly, the authority in her movements making the room feel smaller.

“A rogue act or not, Clarke, an attempt was made on my life.”

Her green eyes locked onto yours.

“Your people swore an alliance with me. This is a betrayal.”

——————————————-

The assassin was dragged to an adjacent chamber, leaving you and Lexa alone. The room felt colder now, the silence stretching like a chasm between

Lexa finally turned to you, her face unreadable.

“Trust is a fragile thing, Clarke. And once broken, it does not mend easily.”

You stepped closer, your hands clenched into fists.

“You’re right. But I’ve stood by you, Lexa. I’ve fought beside you, bled beside you. Doesn’t that count for something?”