Clarke opened the satchel again and pulled out Roan's message. It was brief, and the bottom line was that keeping Ontari alive and making peace last were Clarke's goals. The vials were Azgeda poisons, to be used as a last resort. The knife was a gift, as was the satchel. It had two secret pouches where Clarke could hide things of importance.
She didn't need to read between the lines, and promptly stored the two tins, one empty and the other half full of chips, in one of them. She thought about where to hide the others. As much as she hated to drag Niylah into anything, she would safeguard a tin if Clarke asked. Octavia would, too, despite being angry at Clarke, because she knew they needed to be protected until they could destroy them. She didn't want Skaikru to hold any of them, and she didn't think they would be safe anywhere in the Tower. Maybe she could stash them in the forest. Ontari's tracking skill would be sufficient to lead her back to them, and they would both enjoy a ride through the woods.
Clarke checked her watch. She needed to get up to Ontari's suite. She wanted to be there before Titus arrived.
Ontari was pacing when Clarke entered her quarters. "What's wrong?"
"She won't be quiet. I have asked many times."
"What is she saying?"
"She worries that I can't protect you from Titus. She keeps going on about a box she took from him."
"The box is safe. I trust you to keep me safe, but I don't think it will come to that. Come sit down."
Ontari did as Clarke asked, and Clarke stood behind her. Clarke massaged Ontari's neck and shoulders and eased the tension she carried. There was a knock at the door, and Clarke said, "Remember, you are heda, and he is your subject."
Ontari nodded and stood. "Enter."
Titus came in. The kitchen staff followed with their meals.
"Sit," Ontari directed. "Eat. We will talk after." She sat with her back to the balcony. Clarke sat to her right, Titus to her left. They didn't even look at each other, and no one talked while they ate.
When all of them were finished, Titus asked, "Heda, why have you brought me here? Why is Wanheda here?"
"She has some things to say to you. You will listen, Titus."
He nodded at Ontari and looked at Clarke.
"You killed Leksa," Clarke began. "I know you were trying to kill me, but you killed her. I hear the rumors around Polis, rumors that you encourage, even if you didn't start them, that I killed her."
"I did not," he began.
"Silence, Titus, until she finishes."
"So I know two of your secrets. Murphy was there. That makes two of us who saw what you did. You may think no one will believe Skaikru over you, but we told others, including Ontari. Your heda knows what you did, yet you live. She knows how the commander spirit is preserved and transferred from one heda to the next."
Titus looked shocked and a little ill. That secret was the foundation of his power.
"You know what I can do with that information," Clarke continued. "So we're going to come to an agreement tonight."
"Teacher," Ontari said, although it was Lexa speaking. Titus looked at her, frowning. The furrows in his brow became deeper when he saw Lexa's eyes.
"Ontari kom Azgeda is your heda. You will do as she commands, and support her endeavors no matter how you feel about them. You will not go behind her back to create dissension. You will keep your opinions to yourself unless asked to share them."
"I do not understand, Heda."
"I am not a fool, Titus. You understand quite well. Remain seated and bow your head so Klark can examine you."
Clarke got out of her seat and waited for Titus to do as he was told.
"Now, Titus."
He reluctantly bowed his head, and Clarke pulled his collar down. He had the same vertical scar at the base of his neck. He flinched when Clarke ran her fingers along it. Clarke nodded and returned to her seat.
"Who are you training to replace you?"
"No one, Heda."
"You will bring the candidates to me and I will choose. And do not think I forget the oath you swore to me. You will not attack Klark kom Skaikru, or encourage others to do so. She, not you, is Ontari's chief adviser. You will assist her."
"I will not."
"Then you will die at my hand, not Ontari's, not Klark's. You will die for your actions and pretension to know my mind."
"So be it," Titus said.
"I ask again, who will replace you?"
"No one."
"Titus, the people who know aren't going to tell anyone," Clarke said. "We don't want to destroy you or your beliefs. We want to continue what Lexa started, to make a lasting peace."
"Blood must have blood," Titus insisted.
"Enough blood has been shed," Clarke said. "I am sick of death."
"You will never escape it, Wanheda."
"I am asking you not to do this to your heda and your people. She needs you."
"I will assist her only if you are gone."
"Klark stays, Titus. Do your duty or pay the price for your treason."
"I do my duty every day," he roared, "yet you listen to her."
Ontari's eyes flashed back to her regular brown, and she called for her guards. "Take Titus to his quarters. He is not permitted to leave, nor is he allowed visitors or to send or receive messages."
Titus glared at Clarke before he left.
"What do we do now?"
"I have an idea, but it will make the other clans angry."
"What is it?"
"We can ask Marcus to take over while you find another Fleimkepa. You can keep Titus secluded while we figure something out. I'll send a message to Roan tonight."
"Klark, she wants him dead now."
"She'll have to wait. Where's your paper?"
Ontari pointed at a cabinet across the room. Clarke opened it and pulled out some paper. She froze. On top was the sketch of Lexa napping on the couch. It hurt like a knife wound, not the sharp pain of it entering, but the unending burn when it was removed. Lexa napped on the sofa and Clarke sketched her until a nightmare woke her. Clarke comforted her, and Lexa looked at the paper in Clarke's hand.
Clarke didn't hear Ontari come up behind her, barely saw her hand reach around and take the paper from her hand. Seeing it silenced Lexa. Ontari carefully rolled it and reached around Clarke to slide it into one of the cabinet's cubbyholes. She picked up a pencil and steered Clarke to the table.
They sat quietly while Clarke calmed herself. After a few minutes, she wrote a note to Roan and sealed it with one of the many candles. She pressed her thumb into the wax before it hardened. Ontari picked it up and went to the door. Her guards were back, and she gave it to one of them with instructions to get it to Roan.
Clarke's headache was back. She couldn't imagine why Titus would be willing to die, leaving no one to protect his legacy or his culture. Marcus could teach the young ones diplomacy, and there were plenty of fighters to train them. Maybe he wanted war and thought that the others would blame Skaikru. Maybe he felt guilty. Maybe it was because it was no secret that Ontari was relying on Clarke instead of Titus or someone from Azgeda.
Ontari returned and sat near Clarke.
"What are we doing tomorrow?" Clarke asked.
"Meeting with Sangedakru and Yujleda ambassadors."
"What do they want?"
"They have asked for nothing yet."
"Ok. I'm going to bed."
"Klark, I want you to stay. I do not care what the others will say."
Clarke sighed. "You, or Lexa?"
"Both of us."
"I can't. And I can't move across the hall. I'm Azgeda's ambassador."
"And Skaikru's. I do not like it when you are so far from me. I will replace everything there. It will look nothing like it does now."
"It will always smell like cordite and blood. I will see her every time the door opens. I'm going to my quarters, Ontari. I will see you there for breakfast so we can go over the dispatches. Good night." Clarke walked away with more confidence than she felt.
Ontari let her go. She would go to Clarke's room later, slip into bed with her. Being close to Clarke made her feel better.