"This is insanity, Indra!" Lexa heard Abby slam her hands against the table. "You're asking us to declare war on Gelus. They're the biggest trade partner we have, they outnumber us three to one, and let's not forget that they haven't done anything to us!"
Lexa winced, imagining the glare that Indra must have turned on the other woman. "Haven't done anything to us? They have sent raiding parties all across the outer reaches of Arcam! I have lost eleven scouts in the last six months, and they have essentially annexed the northern territories! We need to move now, before they can get even more of a foothold than they already have."
The sound of a sigh drifted through the door. Exasperation bled into Jaha's voice as he spoke. "Enough of this. You bring this up at every meeting, Indra, but you know where I stand on this. Arcam is a peaceful nation. We will not adopt a policy of aggression. Have I made myself clear?"
Lexa grinned to herself; she could feel the shift in the air. It was almost time. Absently she checked over her weaponry, adjusting her sword slightly before squaring her shoulders and breathing deeply in anticipation.
There was a noise from within the council chamber, cloth shifting over smooth steel. Lexa heard the muffled clank that she imagined was Indra's armor lightly striking the tabletop as she stood.
"Indra, what-?" Abby's voice was perplexed, but free of any of the nerves that would indicate foreknowledge of what was about to occur.
Lexa glanced to her right, glancing at Clarke standing off to the side. The smile she wore was serene, as calm and unconcerned as if she were merely strolling through the marketplace. It sent a twist roiling through Lexa's stomach, heat pooling low and nearly distracting her from what was to come. Indra's voice wrenched her attention back to the events at hand, thoughts of Clarke forced to the back of her mind.
"This is your final decision?" The words held an unusual weight, one that Jaha seemed to miss entirely.
He huffed. "Yes, Indra, that is my final decision. We will not go to war!"
Lexa imagined Indra's face, how it would have hardened to stone, Jaha's answer clearing the last lingering doubts from her conscience. Her voice held a note of finality, the death knell ringing over the last moments of Jaha's rule. "Then you have sealed your fate."
Lexa nodded to the footmen. This was her cue.
In unison they threw open the doors to the council chamber. Lexa strode in at the head of the guard, one hand on the hilt of her sword. She looked straight at Jaha, trusting the others to ensure the compliance of the council.
She came to a halt three feet from the head of the table, eyes not wavering from the chancellor. His face was confused and slightly alarmed, but not overly so. Good, Lexa thought. Less initial alarm meant less resistance.
"Thelonious Jaha, under the authority of the Regia of Arcam, you are hereby sentenced to die for the crime of treason against the nation. You will come now to be placed in holding awaiting your execution."
Gasps came from along the table, some genuine, some obviously forced. Lexa kept her gaze on Jaha, gauging his reaction. His face was a mask of shock, incredulity obvious in his eyes.
A crash sounded from behind her as Abby stood quickly, chair toppling to the ground unheeded in her haste. "What nonsense is this? Who dares…" Her voice trailed off, fury seeming to rob her of words.
Lexa bestowed a flat glare on her, betraying none of the roiling excitement she felt. Anticipation swelled, her heart racing. Footsteps rang out from the corridor and all eyes turned to the door.
Clarke entered casually, strolling in with no care for the tension in the air. She glided through the room, taking no notice of either councilors or soldiers. Looking at her and the unconcerned air she gave off, Lexa could believe that they were the only two people in the room were it not for the ripple of heads bowing as she passed.
An eyebrow arched when she drew level with Lexa, glancing disinterestedly at Jaha. The meaning was as clear to Lexa as if Clarke had shouted, and without hesitation she drew her sword and slammed the hilt against Jaha's skull. She kept the blow relatively light, wanting him merely dazed, not unconscious or dead. Grasping his arm forcefully, she bodily wrenched the man from his throne and forced him to kneel, out of the way but still within her line of sight.
Clarke ignored the moaning man, running a hand gently across the top of the ornate throne, caressing it as if it were a lover. Lexa swallowed, eyes following those long fingers with the intensity of a hawk. The blonde circled the chair completely before relaxing into the seat, arranging herself into a lazy sprawl with one leg hooked over an arm of the throne.
Ice blue eyes turned to the council, silent with shock and disbelief. Lexa shifted to stand slightly behind the throne, naked sword in her hand sending a clear message to everyone in the room. Clarke watched for a moment more before breaking the silence.
"Hello, mother."
Her softly-spoken words broke the spell the room had fallen under. Some of the council, those who had not already converted, broke into a chorus of shouting, each one trying to be heard over the rest. Lexa stiffened, the sudden explosion of noise startling her hand into clenching tighter around her sword. Clarke still appeared supremely unruffled, however, so Lexa funneled her tension into scanning the room for threats.
Threats which appeared not ten seconds later as one of the generals – Quint, if Lexa remembered correctly – stood abruptly, leaning forward and gesturing angrily at Clarke. Lexa's eyes narrowed, but she remained in place, knowing that this moment was utterly critical for Clarke. Any sign of disunity, a lack of control even at the smallest level, could be the straw that broke them, the catalyst for loyalists to dispute Clarke's authority.
The other councilors, those who had not been approached beforehand, gained confidence from Quint's defiance and began to stand as well, one by one joining him in opposition. Abby was among them, her voice managing to carry above the commotion. She quickly quieted the group, shushing them and turning towards her daughter. "Clarke, what are you doing? I know you've been bored lately, what with all these meetings, but now really isn't a good time for games." The woman got nothing but a blank stare from the blonde, but behind her Lexa stared incredulously at the woman. She had assaulted the chancellor only minutes before and Abby thought Clarke was playing a game?
Sighing, Abby looked at the warriors surrounding the room. Her eyebrows furrowed as she began recognizing them. When her gaze reached Lexa, her brow relaxed and she laughed. "I see. You got your friends to join your game? This is cute, Clarke, really it is, but now is not the time."
The continuing lack of response from her daughter drove Abby to turn to Lexa. "All right, I get that you were humoring Clarke, but this needs to end now." Lexa didn't respond, and Abby's face darkened. "Let me be very clear. You belong to me, not my daughter. I'm willing to overlook the stolen armor, I'll even ignore the weapons, but I will not stand for willful disobedience, daughter's orders or not. This ends now."
Clarke tapped one finger against the table, drawing Lexa's attention, before nodding gently. Lexa caught Octavia's eye and tipped her head at Quint. The other girl drew her blade, then promptly sheathed it in Quint's chest.
The man choked, blood spraying from his lips to spatter the councilors standing across from him. He looked downward in disbelief, hands coming up to gently touch the length of steel protruding from his chest. He looked up once more, meeting Clarke's eyes before Octavia yanked her blade back. He collapsed back into his chair, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling, in a gruesome caricature of respect.
"Sit."
The command was quiet, but had an undercurrent of steel. The challengers complied, horrified stares fixed on the corpse that had replaced one of their brethren.
Clarke fixed her gaze on her mother. "Under the eyes of this council, Chancellor Jaha has been allowed to drive Arcam to the very brink of annihilation. He has willfully and stubbornly disregarded every sign, signal, and warning conveyed to him and chosen instead to keep this nation on a path that will find us all dead beneath a Gelusian sword within the year." She threw a withering glare at the kneeling man. "I have chosen to prevent that. This council holds the authority to invest a new sovereign if the old one dies without having named an heir. Since Jaha has none, I see no issue with my appointment."
A scoff from the far side of the table drew the attention of the entire room. Diana Sydney, one of the independent councilors, sneered at Clarke. "Chancellor Jaha has a named heir, silly girl. You grew up with him. Have you forgotten him already?" A surge of rage, white-hot and deadly, shot through Lexa. The arrogant, disdainful look the woman was sending at Clarke made Lexa want to cut her eyes from her head in retaliation for her disrespect. She would ask Clarke for her life later, and would enjoy seeing it fade from her eyes.
Clarke shook her head sadly. "How could I forget my oldest playmate? It was tragic, really. Such an unfortunate accident." She turned to Jaha, razor-sharp and brutal. "But we shouldn't discuss the gory details here. Jaha doesn't need to know the kind of pain he was in, silver tongue cut from his head and talented fingers shattered, or how he choked on his own blood for hours before he finally died." Her gaze snapped back to the council, all traces of harshness gone, only that calm happiness left. "And anyway, we have an investment to get to."
Abby looked like she was in shock. Her skin was chalk-white and her gaze was unfocused, and when she spoke, her voice was distant. "But how can we have an investment if we already have a reigning chancellor?"
With a roll of her eyes, Clarke responded. "How do you think, mother?"
Abby's eyes sharpened at that. "Clarke, you can't kill your way to the top!"
"Why not?" Clarke looked genuinely confused for a moment before smirking. "You did."
The breath flew from Abby's lungs in a rush. Lexa almost thought that she had been struck by an invisible assailant. The thought cheered her. She heard Bellamy snort softly from his position by the doors.
Clarke smirked. "Lexaaaa…" she crooned, dragging the word out slowly. Lexa's entire body convulsed, a full-body shiver rolling up her spine at the honey-sweet tone of the word. She cleared her throat softly, pointedly not looking at Octavia as she did so. Clarke was relentless, though. "Lexa, the traitor has something of mine." She turned around in her seat, pouting playfully up at Lexa. "Fetch it for me?"
Lexa dipped her head. "As you command, Regia." She ignored Abby's muted gasp, taking two steps and raising her sword. A couple of the independent councilors shouted, realizing her aim, but it was no use. Her sword fell, a graceful arc of silver that ended in crimson red. Jaha's head fell with a thud, shock still apparent on his face. Lexa sheathed her sword, heedless of the blood that clung to its length, and stooped to pluck the crown from where it had fallen in the middle of the quickly spreading pool of blood.
Blood dripped gently from it, giving the gold a liquid shimmer. Lexa turned back to Clarke and slowly, reverently, settled the crown on her brow. She stepped back and looked at her, lounging casually on the throne, crown on her brow and streaks of red like war paint dripping down her face. She was like one of the god-queens of old, powerful and implacable, demanding sacrifice on pain of death.
Lexa took a step back and dropped to her knees, hearing the rest of the room do the same. She took a breath, preparing herself for the words she was about to utter – words that would leave the world irrevocably changed.
"Hail, Clarke Griffin, Regia of Arcam, Imperatrix of the Twelve Territories! Long live the queen!"