fragile | clexa

chapter sixty two

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At the knock on his door, Jake had expected anyone but the person that did actually stand in front of it.

A trader to sell something, the carpenter that wanted to look after their table, one of the neighbors- but not the Heda.

Suddenly the crisp October breeze that came with the door was an icy wind. The Heda's eyes laid upon him calm, dangerous. Fear spread through Jake like fire, but he didn't feel warm.

Like covered in frost, his body stood there.

He felt himself bow, open the door a little further. "Heda," he said. "Come in." His voice was strained, but he was glad it worked at all.

The Heda followed him into the kitchen. His wife stood by the window, watering the plants there, and when she saw who entered the kitchen with her husband, she almost dropped the watering can.

Slowly she managed to put the can aside. Her body bent gracefully in a bow. "Heda." Her voice wasn't as warm and sweet as it was usually, but maybe it wasn't as obviously frightened either, more under her control than Jake's.

"I hope I'm not bothering," the Heda said like she was stopping by for a tea.

Abby cleared her throat. "Of course not, Heda. Please, take a seat. Would you like a drink? Wine, grape or apple juice, tea, water? We can get anything you'd wish for as well if we don't have it right now."

"Thank you, I'm good," the Heda declined politely.

Awkwardly, Jake and Abby sat across the Heda at the table, the soft cushions Abby had made for the wooden chairs suddenly feeling out of place.

"I would like to talk about a rather delicate topic with you," the Heda started. "Are you okay with that?"

Two almost robotic nods.

"You have a daughter?"

"No," Jake said a little too quickly. "No, Heda, we don't," he added.

"But you had one?"

Abby's eyes found Jake's for a short second. There was confusion within the both of them, hurt, a glint of anger.

"Yes," Abby managed eventually. "She is dead."

The Heda didn't seem bothered by the slight edge to the woman's voice. "Yes, that's why I'm here."

"Is that so?" Jake asked a little too sharply. His wife nudged his side.

"I'm aware you think I killed her," the Heda continued. "I did not. Neither am I responsible for any of the women that have disappeared in the last years. There was a slavery network called 'The Chosen of The Light' spread over all clans in the last couple years. They have been using me as an excuse, because of course no one would doubt me and no one would report things to my guards which supposedly I did myself. I have never wrongly laid hands on anybody, I can assure you."

Both of Clarke's parents eyed her distrustfully, unsure.

"A slavery network?" Abby asked after a while, her words weak, hardly audible.

"Yes. I wish I could make this nicer, but I can't. The Chosen of the Light were a cult that believed some people- especially women- weren't worth anything in this life and to 'help them' to their purpose, they kidnapped them, taught them their beliefs through brainwashing and torture and then sold them as bedslaves. They take women of all ages and treat them in a way that an estimated 52 percent die within the first year. Finn, I believe you know him, was in touch with that cult and supported their beliefs and so he sold Clarke out to them almost five years ago now," Lexa reported all about the cult, at least, all that she hoped Clarke's parents would be able to take.