Three weeks.
That was how long it had taken to put together the plan, and it had only gotten more insane as time had passed.
There were so many things that could go wrong, so many things that hinged on pure chance, and Lexa wasn't sure how Clarke was maintaining her serenity in the face of all that. She felt like she was going to vibrate out of her skin, and the endless repetition of learning her duties and carrying them out and bowing her head whenever she saw Abby was only grating her nerves further.
And now they were out at the market. Shopping.
Lexa hated shopping now. All she could do was alternate between worrying about the plan and remembering the last time she had been out shopping and the horror show that day had turned into.
She turned to Clarke, the blonde inspecting different colored paints at a stall. "Are you absolutely sure about this plan?" She kept her voice low and her eyes lower, not wanting to draw attention to them.
Clarke picked up a container of green, bringing it into the sunlight to examine. She looked supremely unconcerned, which didn't reassure Lexa at all, for some reason. "Yes, Lexa, for the ten thousandth time. We can do nothing further. We can only carry it through." She shot the brunette a look. "Relax, won't you? Your tension is making me tense."
The girl yawned like a cat and stretched lazily, tossing a few coins at the vendor and handing Lexa four different paints. She stepped out from under the shadow of the stall and tilted her head back, closing her eyes and humming at the feel of the sun on her face.
Lexa stared at her incredulously. "Yes, I can see your tension from here."
Opening one eye, Clarke fixed Lexa with a look. "A warrior doesn't worry about what she can't control. And make no mistake about it, you are a warrior." She went back to basking, leaving Lexa speechless and slightly flushed. "Come on, we still need to look at the fruit vendors." Clarke opened her eyes reluctantly and grabbed Lexa's hand, pulling her through the crowds and ignoring the squeak that Lexa would forever deny uttering.
She pulled Clarke to a stop, though, when the blonde made to hurry them through an alley between two buildings. "Are you sure that's safe? I may be your warrior, but I've had no training yet." She eyed the pooling shadows suspiciously.
Clarke sighed. "It's fine, I use this shortcut all the time. If we try to go around it's a fifteen minute walk that takes us through the heart of the forum. I have no interest in being jostled around by a thousand sweaty people, do you?" When Lexa still didn't look convinced, she huffed. "Look, if you come now we can spend the fifteen minutes we don't waste on walking finding a new dagger for you. I know for a fact that weaponsmith whose work you admired is here today."
Lexa was ashamed to admit that the outright bribery swayed her. "All right, just walk quickly. We do have things to do today, you know. Things we really can't be late for." She gave Clarke a meaningful look.
Brightening, Clarke beamed at her. "How could I forget something so very important?" She grabbed Lexa's hand once more and resumed tugging her rapidly.
They strode further into the alleyway, Lexa's shoulders tensing more and more with every step they took. It was almost a relief when two men loomed out of the shadows, menacing in a way that was too predictable to really be threatening. The gleaming knives they held, however, were threatening enough on their own.
The one on the left stepped forward, and Lexa immediately noted the ugly gash that had taken a chunk out of his nose. She promptly dubbed him Chunk and his companion Asshole, just so she didn't have to think 'the one without the scar' every time she thought of him.
Chunk leered at Clarke, twirling his knife. "Well isn't this a surprise. Went to grab a drink and found ourselves two pretty little things like you." Lexa bristled, not liking the way the man looked at Clarke even the slightest bit. She stepped forward, shoving Clarke behind her and leveling the man with a flat glare. He chuckled, not looking the slightest bit intimidated. "Oh, you want to go first? Look, Brock, the slave whore wants to go first."
Lexa began sidling backwards, trying to push Clarke along with her inconspicuously. She did not like the way Chunk was looking at Clarke at all, and Asshole was worryingly quiet.
Chunk grinned at her. "Stop that, pretty, or I'll think you don't want to be with me and my feelings will get hurt. You don't want to hurt my feelings, do you?" Asshole stepped forward, long legs halving the distance between them in one stride.
Glaring, Lexa spat at Chunk's feet. "Go suck each other's dicks, you carrion-ridden firefuckers. Or can you not get hard if your partner actually wants it?"
Without his face changing at all, Asshole struck Lexa hard, a backhanded blow that rattled her brains. Only Clarke's tight grip on her hips kept her mostly upright, but her vision blurred momentarily. Okay, that may not have been the best plan I've ever had.
Chunk wasn't smiling anymore. "You know what? I'll take your estimable mistress first. She's the only one we wanted, anyway, you're just… a bonus." He walked up to them. "Hearing you scream will only make it more fun for me, pretty."
When he tried to wrench her away from Clarke she fought him as hard as he could. She managed to get several vicious blows in, even striking him in the groin. Her foot connected with the hard metal of a codpiece, but the blow angered him enough to slash at her with his knife. Her eyes widened and she only had enough time to throw up an arm before it connected.
Searing pain raced through her, radiating fire from a long slice down her forearm. Dimly Lexa was aware of screaming coming from somewhere behind her, the pain muddling her thoughts and narrowing her awareness to that long line on her arm.
The screaming suddenly registered to her shocked mind as Clarke, and the thought of the blonde experiencing anything to make her scream like that made her struggle through the pain back to full awareness.
Chunk was advancing on her slowly, knife dripping red and that godsbedamned smirk back on his face. Asshole had his hand wrapped around Lexa's arms, keeping her in place. She squirmed desperately, but it was as if she were trapped by iron bars. She saw a shadow pass the mouth of the alley and stop, as if peering into the gloom, and she shouted as loud as she could before Asshole shook her hard, rattling her brains once again.
The noise that came out of her mouth did not resemble words in any language she knew of, but it seemed to do the trick. The shadow started running towards them and resolved into the figure of a guard, sword unsheathed and plumed helmet covering their face.
Chunk immediately let go of Clarke and held his hands up, dagger sheathed so fast it seemed almost like magic. Asshole backed off too and Lexa rushed to Clarke's side, looking her up and down for injuries. "I'm fine, Lexa, don't worry." The blonde reassured her gently, but Lexa didn't stop until she confirmed it with her own eyes.
Lexa turned back to the three men without taking her hands off Clarke, wanting the reassurance that this market day was not going to end like the last. The guard had the two men backed against a wall and held at swordpoint. Chunk looked dazed, blood streaming from a gash above his eye, and Asshole just looked sullen.
The guard had lost his helmet in the fight, allowing curly black hair to spill over a handsome face. "Miss, can you tell me what happened? I highly doubt it was these two asking you for directions." He cast a dark look at his captives.
Lexa opened her mouth, but a gentle nudge from Clarke had her shutting it again. The blonde stepped forward slightly, allowing Lexa to reposition her hands as she did so. Her bearing changed as she did so, subtly gaining regality until she was a noblewoman once more, no longer the happy-go-lucky girl she had been in the market. The guard straightened as she did so, subconsciously recognizing the authority of the woman in front of him.
Clarke cleared her throat gently. "My slave and I were visiting the market for the day. We were on our way to the fruit market when these two accosted us. They marched us into this alley with knives in the small of our backs, then told us that they were going to use us for their pleasure. That one-" She gestured at Chunk. "-said that I was the one they were after, and that Lexa was just a bonus." She paused, taking a deep breath. "He said that he would enjoy her screams as she watched him violate me, and then he would do the same to her. He tried to take me from behind Lexa, but she fought him, and he cut her." Here she gestured to Lexa's arm, which, the brunette noted absently, was streaming blood.
The guard was shaking. His eyes had narrowed to slits, and his hand tightened reflexively on his sword. He looked at the men, then at Lexa and Clarke, then closed his eyes. A sound escaped his lips, one that sounded like resignation and rage mixed into one. "I would ask that you look away now, ladies." The words were spoken almost casually as he advanced on the men, but neither Clarke nor Lexa averted their eyes.
The sword in his hand caught the little light in the alley and shone like fire, casting reflections across the angles of his face. He looked like an avenging angel in the low light, righteous fury shining in his eyes and casting terror on the unholy scum cowering before him. When he struck, there was none of the economy of motion Lexa had seen in some of her opponents in the Arena. What there was was a fury that overtook him, lending his blows strength that was unmatched. The men died in agony, ropes of blood splashing across the walls of the alley to mark their final end.
Asshole was cleaved from groin to throat, the sword going almost all the way through him. His intestines spilled out onto the cobblestones, and a streak of dark blood splashed onto Chunk's terrified face. Lexa almost felt sorry for him, the terror stark in his eyes, but then she remembered how he had looked at Clark and the pity turned to a dark satisfaction.
The guard turned his blade on Chunk, one vicious slash removing the hand he had touched Clarke with, the backswing opening his throat. He didn't even have time to scream before his vocal cords were severed.
The guard turned back to them, eyes cast low. He pulled a rag from a pouch at his hip and began cleaning his blade, never looking at the two of them. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you beyond what you've told me?"
If Lexa were to hazard a guess, she would say that the man was afraid of their reactions to his brutal slaying of the assholes. Glancing at Clarke, she sighed. He probably should be afraid of them, but not for the reasons he was likely thinking.
The beam radiating from the blonde's face could have illuminated a lighthouse. Striding forward, she hooked her arm into the guard's, ignoring his wide eyes at her impropriety. "You've just saved both our lives, master guard. Please allow me to thank you for that by accompanying me to lunch?" She batted her eyelashes at him.
Looking utterly stunned, he nodded silently. Lexa sympathized with him. Clarke was a force of nature when she wanted to be. She knew the other girl called her 'hurricane', but if she was a hurricane then Clarke was a volcano, completely harmless – until she wasn't. When she was angered she was unstoppable, implacable, fiery death with the force of gravity behind her.
She watched a smile break out on Clarke's face and shook her head. The other girl was really very perplexing.
Clarke guided the stunned man out of the alley, pointing them in the direction of the villa and ignoring Lexa completely. Lexa seized the opportunity and went through the dead men's pockets quickly, coming up with a folded paper and fifteen denarii. She raised an eyebrow. That was not an insignificant sum.
Pocketing her finds, she walked quickly out of the alley in time to hear Clarke's next question. "May I ask the name of our savior, master guard? Or would you prefer I use only your title as we dine?"
The man shook himself, some measure of his wits returning to him. He glanced at Lexa once, then returned his attention to the blonde on his arm. "Blake." His voice was low and slightly rough. Pleasing to the ear, if Lexa were at all interested in that sort of thing. "Bellamy Blake."
Clarke glanced at Lexa and smirked slightly. "Well, Bellamy Blake, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you."
Clarke smiled at the man seated opposite her. "I'm so glad you agreed to join me, Master Blake. I owe you a great debt. Who knows what those scum would have done if you hadn't stepped in?" She fluttered her eyelashes for effect and saw Lexa roll her eyes from her position behind Bellamy. That had been a strategic choice. Lexa could signal Clarke easily without the guard noticing a thing, allowing her to get Lexa's opinions on his words without giving away their unusual relationship.
Bellamy smiled sheepishly, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. "It was nothing, really. I was just doing my job." He hesitated. "I really must apologize, though, for my handling of those… Men." Clarke heard the bite in his voice, the anger that was being suppressed.
She shook her head, cutting off his next words. "You have nothing to apologize for, Master Blake. You did the world a favor."
He looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. Clarke was taken aback at how the slow grin lit up his face, making what was already a handsome face stunning. If I were any other girl, I would swoon, I think. But then again… She glanced at Lexa, bright eyes boring into the back of Bellamy's head with that singular intensity she had. There's only so much attention I can spare for pretty faces with her around.
Bellamy's voice drew her attention from what had turned to blatant staring at Lexa. "Please, Madam Griffin, it's Bellamy. Master Blake was my father, and there is nothing I want less in this world than to be associated with him." He looked embarrassed for a moment before glancing away. Clarke doubted he had meant to let that slip, and she did him the courtesy of ignoring it.
"Of course, Bellamy, but only if you call me Clarke. Madam Griffin is my mother and, well, let's just say I share your sentiments regarding your father." She grimaced, realizing how heavy-handed that had been, but smoothed her face out. It was out now, bitterness forcing its way to the surface, and all she could do was deal with it.
The man blinked, winced, opened his mouth, then shut it again when Clarke raised an eyebrow. He fidgeted for a minute before sighing deeply. "All right… Clarke. But only in private. It's more than my life is worth if I get caught being so informal with a noblewoman."
Clarke smiled brightly, ignoring Lexa's look of faint disdain. "Excellent! Now that that's settled, let's eat. Lexa, if you will?" She arched an eyebrow at the brunette, delighting in the dark look the woman shot her before bringing the food to the table.
"Yes, domina." She could practically taste the disgust Lexa felt at being forced to serve Bellamy.
Bellamy dug into the food and groaned when the taste registered. "This is incredible." He cut a piece of roast boar and closed his eyes as he savored it. "Absolutely incredible."
Chuckling, Clarke motioned discreetly for Lexa to eat as well while his eyes were closed. "I'm glad that you enjoy it, Bellamy. It's really the least I can do to repay you for saving our lives. I take it you don't get to have boar often?" She bit into a baked apple and hummed happily.
A flush rose in Bellamy's cheeks. He shook his head. "No, not often. I think I've had it three times before today." He looked down, poking at his food. "My sister and I, we didn't really get the opportunity to growing up."
Clarke could see there was something else there, something tender under the surface. She was interested in Bellamy, in the handsome guard with fury blazing through his veins and old wounds just under his skin, but she knew from experience that some things had to be coaxed out. Going straight for them would get her nowhere, it would only serve to make Bellamy clam up.
She brought her glass to her lips, taking a small sip and fixing her eyes on Bellamy's face. "You have a sister?"
His face softened and lit up when she asked, a sign of adoration that obviously ran deep. It raised him slightly higher in her estimation, the knowledge that this handsome man thought so highly of his sister. Many would not, would be far more interested in the beautiful blonde sharing a meal with him.
"Yes, I do. Her name is Octavia." He smiled when he said her name, a sweet smile that even Lexa couldn't find fault with.
Clarke returned the smile. "You obviously think very highly of her. Younger?"
He nodded. "Six years."
"What does she do?" Clarke was genuinely interested in his answer, especially after his face darkened slightly when she asked. For someone who obviously adored the girl as much as he did, the obvious disapproval was unexpected.
Bellamy sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "She's a soldier." Clarke's eyebrows shot up. That had not been what she had expected him to say. He saw her obvious confusion and elaborated. "She's a ranger." He paused. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but she's a Shadow."
If Clarke had been surprised before, she was stupefied now. Behind Bellamy Lexa fumbled her wineglass, almost dropping it in her shock. The Swift Shadows were legends in the Twelve Territories. No one knew who they were, or exactly what their duties were, only that they were fast, deadly, and fiercely loyal to their commander. Most didn't even know who their commander was, but Clarke had found out completely by accident several months previously while snooping through her mother's papers, looking for an update on Gelusian activity.
She stared at Bellamy openmouthed. "How in all the seven hells did your sister, who can't be more than twenty two, get Indra's attention?"
He twitched violently. "How did you know who their commander was? That's one of their most closely guarded secrets!"
Clarke waved the question off impatiently. "My mother is on the council. I snoop. How did Indra notice Octavia? As far as I'm aware she recruits from qualified scouts, ones with years of experience. Even if Octavia joined when she was sixteen, there's no way she could have distinguished herself that much in so little time." She eyed him suspiciously, aware of Lexa sitting up straighter and dropping a hand to the dagger concealed at her waist.
Bellamy looked at her for a second before sighing. "My sister and I grew up on the streets. My father abandoned us when we were little, and our mother was executed a few weeks after I turned twelve. We had nowhere to go, but I was determined to take care of O. We actually managed pretty well. We learned to beg, and pick pockets, and steal from the lazier vendors. We made a nice little home for ourselves.
"Two years later, when O was eight, I got sick. It was winter, and we'd been having trouble finding as much food as usual. Normally I would never have gotten as sick as I did, but I'd been giving her most of my food. She was this tiny little thing, and I was so worried that she would starve. Of course, now that I was so weak, others were eying us. They wanted our supplies and our space, had wanted them for a while before then. A couple of boys, probably thirteen or so, came to take everything, but O stood up to them. One of them smacked her, knocked her right to the ground, but she just bounced back up and charged him. They went round and round like that a few times, Octavia getting the shit beat out of her in the process, but she just wouldn't stop fighting."
He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. Clarke reached out and covered his hand with hers. "She sounds like quite a handful."
He laughed. "That she is. There she was, one eye swollen totally shut, clinging to the back of one boy while screaming curses I didn't even know at the other, when Indra walks by. I think it took her half a second to figure out what was going on, and less than that to scare both boys off. She was the most intimidating person I'd ever seen, still is if I'm being honest, but Octavia didn't flinch, just stood up as tall as she could and glared down a soldier in full battle dress."
Grinning, he took a drink from his glass. "Indra looked so perplexed, like she had never been in that situation before. Then she crouched down, face-to-face with O, and told her 'You fight well'." He smiled wistfully. "She took the both of us in that day. Got me the best healer she could, taught the both of us everything she knew, and hired tutors to teach us the rest. I joined the guard as soon as I came of age, and Octavia joined Indra's ground unit the day she did."
Clarke blinked, then blinked again. She had never dreamed that her new friend was so well-connected. Locking eyes with Lexa, she smiled ever-so-slightly. The other woman had disbelief written all across her face. It was endearing, actually, her utter unwillingness to allow even the slightest threat to Clarke within a hundred meters of her. No wonder she hated the plan so much.
Sighing, Clarke glanced to the ceiling. Now came the tricky part, the part where she convinced Bellamy Blake to betray the Chancellor and join her in his overthrow.
Lexa glared menacingly at the back of Bellamy's head. She could see Clarke falling for his words, sweet words of brotherly devotion and a tragic backstory worthy of the stage, but not Lexa. She would stay on her guard around him, and when he turned out to be more trouble than he was worth she would take pleasure in slipping her blade between his ribs.
Her jaw clenched as Clarke laughed at something he said. I'm sure he'll be just as funny while he's selling us out to the Chancellor. She grabbed the water jug angrily, pouring herself a glass in the hopes of cooling off. Laugh, laugh, laugh, Blake. We'll see who's laughing in the end.
She listened idly to them converse, Blake mentioning that Octavia was a ranger. She lifted her glass to her lips, then heard '-she's a Shadow'. She choked, glass dropping from her fingers before she clumsily caught it. A Shadow? It's not possible.
His tale was incredible, the stuff of epic poems. Homeless street rats being adopted by a rich patron? She scoffed. Only a fool would believe that. And yet…
Clarke was looking at him with stars in her eyes, hanging on to his every word. She was eating it up with a spoon, and Lexa didn't know how to warn her to stop. She huffed, listening absently as she played with her cup.
Looking up, she found Clarke looking at her, a slight smile playing over her lips. It widened slightly before the blonde broke the gaze, sighing and looking up at the ceiling. Lexa's eyes widened, recognizing the train of thought Clarke was having. It was far too soon to bring Blake in. He was an unknown, a flight risk, circumstances vastly different than the ones Clarke had found her in.
She jerked to her feet, the sudden movement catching Clarke's attention. She gestured furiously at the door, trying to tell Clarke without words that she needed to speak with her. Fortunately Clarke caught on, excusing herself from Blake gently and making her way out of the room.
Lexa followed quickly, grabbing her arm and jerking her to a stop once they were out of earshot. "Are you insane?"
Clarke looked affronted. "I'm sorry?"
Lexa huffed. "You were about to tell him everything. Everything, Clarke. There aren't words to describe what a bad idea that is!" She threw her hands into the air.
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Clarke frowned at her. "Why is that so bad? He would be such an asset to us. You heard him, his sister is a Shadow. His adoptive mother is the High Commander. He could be so useful to us, Lexa!"
"If he's telling the truth!" Lexa hissed the words, trying desperately to keep her temper. "We just met him, Clarke. We know nothing about him beyond what he told us himself. If you try and bring him in now, there's nothing stopping him from going to his superior officer and telling them everything." She paused, and her stance softened when she saw how Clarke was glaring at the floor. The blonde looked like a scolded child, and it made something inside of her feel warm.
Lexa sighed. "Clarke, when you found me I was desperate and on the verge of suicide. I had nothing to live for, and nothing to lose. Blake isn't like that. He has a career, a family; he stands to lose everything. You need to wait, learn more about him. We need to know if he's trustworthy before we try and recruit him."
She reached out and gripped Clarke's shoulders firmly, trying to transfer some of her confidence into the blonde. Clarke covered one of her hands with her own and smiled shakily at Lexa, sending a spark up her arm. "You're right." She sighed. "You're right, as usual. This is why I need you, Lexa. You keep me grounded, keep me steady while my head is in the clouds." She met Lexa's eyes steadily. "We'll wait. But in the meantime, the plan continues."
It was worded like a statement, but Lexa could sense a faint hint of a question in the words. She nodded firmly. "The plan continues."
Clarke nodded in return, holding Lexa's gaze for a dizzying moment before squeezing her hand firmly and turning. She swept back into the dining room, apologizing airily to Blake for the inconvenience. Lexa resumed her post behind Blake, but this time when Clarke caught her eye she smiled.
Dropping back into her seat, Clarke apologized to Bellamy. "I'm sorry, there was a minor issue with one of the kitchen slaves. Not to worry, everything is sorted out now."
He smiled at her, no trace of the condescension or arrogance she was used to from adults present in his face. "Nothing too traumatic, I hope?" His face was understanding, no pressure for perfection present.
She laughed. "No, not too traumatic." She hesitated. "Speaking of trauma… I have a favor to ask of you." She met his gaze squarely, dropping her bubbly, flighty noblewoman persona just a shade. "If you hadn't come when you did, those men would have violated and murdered both Lexa and me." She waved off his token protest. "Don't waste time with humility, we both know it's true. They would have brutalized us and there would have been nothing we could have done to prevent it."
Bellamy reached out and took her hand in his. "Clarke, it's okay. They're gone now, they can't hurt you anymore."
She bestowed a flat look upon him and he straightened involuntarily. "Yes, Bellamy, I realized that somewhere in between you eviscerating the first and nearly beheading the other." He fidgeting with his hands, avoiding her gaze.
Clarke rolled her eyes. "The point is, we weren't capable of defending ourselves. What I'm asking is that you help us ensure that we never find ourselves in that situation again."
Bellamy looked up sharply. "What are you asking, Clarke, because if it's what I think it is that is extremely illegal."
Lexa rolled her eyes behind him, forcing Clarke to suppress a chuckle that she was sure wouldn't be well received. "I am asking you to teach the both of us to fight."
Standing abruptly, Bellamy almost sent his chair flying before Lexa caught it quickly. He glanced back at her for a moment before returning his attention to Clarke. "Just training you would be enough to get me discharged from the guard, but her? That would be my life, Clarke!"
She shot to her feet to match him. "And this is mine! Those men were after me, Bellamy!" She held out her hand to Lexa and the brunette dropped a folded page into it. She unfolded it with short, angry motions, shoving the portrait of her own face into Bellamy's startled hands. "They were after me and I was helpless. Next time there may not be some hero waiting in the wings to swoop in and save the day. Next time it may just be me and Lexa, but if you help us we might be able to survive on our own."
She sagged back into her chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. "Bellamy, they were after me." She dropped her eyes, playing with her napkin.
A large hand moved into her line of vision, covering her hands and stilling their movement. She looked up at him, face tired in a way that a man of his age shouldn't be. He looked at her intently for a moment, then nodded. "All right. I'll help you. But you can never tell anyone, understand?" She nodded, but he pressed, voice intent. "Anyone. If you do I'm pretty sure we all die."
She pulled one of her hands out from underneath his and used it to sandwich his hands beneath her own. "Bellamy, I understand. Trust me, if there's anyone in this godsbedamned city that understands it's me. We won't tell." She smiled up at him. "Thank you. Truly. You have no idea what this means to me."
He stood up, clearing his throat gruffly. "Yeah, well, if we get caught I'm blaming you." He shifted from foot to foot, not meeting her eyes. "I need to go, my shift starts soon." He started for the door then turned. "Meet me by the west gate tomorrow at dawn. Wear clothes you don't mind getting dirty." He left without another word.
Clarke turned to Lexa, the other girl staring at the doorway with an inscrutable look. "So, I think that plan went well."
Lexa rolled her eyes. "That was the worst plan I've ever even heard of. There was no logical reason for it to go well." She dug in her waist pouch, retrieving the coins she had taken from the dead men earlier. "Here's your money back, by the way."
Clarke took the money, a surprised look on her face. "I didn't expect them to still have it. I was under the impression that mercenaries like those drank their pay away as soon as they got it."
Lexa smirked. "I told them that if they still had it when they confirmed the kill I would double it. We are on a budget, you know. Every denar counts." She was actually quite proud of that little brainstorm. Clarke got an allowance from her mother, but there was much they needed to do, and her allowance was not infinite.
Beaming, Clarke pecked her on the cheek. "What would I do without you?"
Lexa managed to work through the shock enough to retort shakily, "Steal your own damn guard schedules?"
Clarke lifted her nose in the air snootily. "I am out of place in establishments such as those. No one would ever gossip about the young hotheads if I were there."
Rolling her eyes again, Lexa walked away without a word. Mad, mad, the whole world is mad.
She called back over her shoulder, "You should get some sleep. I'm pretty sure Blake's expecting us before the sun is up, and you have a bad habit of sleeping before noon."
She would never admit it to anyone, but the sound of Clarke cursing furiously behind her brought a smile to her lips.