I'll be the Bad Guy

Chapter 63: My Favorite Disaster

Clarke's POV-

Bright and early, I pull my long, untamed hair into a tight blond bun. I take an extra minute to stare at myself in the mirror. It had been years since I'd had my hair up this way. I looked younger.

I apply some of my mother's makeup and red lipstick she'd let me borrow... or rather, I'd taken from her room temporarily.

I felt a wave of nostalgia rush through me. This was the same mirror I'd grown up gazing into. At one point, I'd seen my father's reflection standing next to me as we looked together. When I turned 15, this was the same mirror I'd pulled my hair back neatly- like today- to begin my first day studying medicine, like my mother.

It was as if nothing had changed. I could very well look out the window and see a sea of stars and darkness again.

But although the bubble around me had persisted and been unaffected, I had. I was changed for the better.

I shuffle my speech together and march out the door hearing the light pop of my high heels through the metal hallways. I wanted to know what Lexa thought of my attire.

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Lexa's POV-

It's early in the morning as I dress for the day per usual. I leave my warpaint off and abandon my long sword for the morning- keeping my favorite daggers close and my red sash trailing over my shoulder.

I'm escorted out into the hallway where I see Clarke waiting. I almost don't recognize her.

Her hair is in a neat blond bun and she's wearing a black pantsuit and high heels. I wish I wore my warpaint because I'm most definitely blushing. I feel my heart catch in my throat and I wonder if my warriors or Anya can tell that my heart is racing.

"Clarke. Good morning." I state in my most diplomatic tone.

"Good morning, Commander." She returns.

In a comfortable silence, we ascend to the court room. I've found that I dislike the way my boots don't crunch on the ground, like they do outside. Instead, I feel a stale shuffling of my feet. The darkened hallways feel encapsulating as if they were closing in around me. I could tell that Anya and my warriors felt the same. We all tended to eye the walls tentatively, with unease.

Finally, we get to the court room.

Inside, a jury of 12 citizens wait patiently. A judge- an older woman seeming to be in her early 60's- is gowned and waits elevated behind a podium. Bellamy Blake is handcuffed and sits at a long desk to the right of the room, and the man called Lucas Fredrich wears a devilish smirk at his desk to the left of the room- each sitting beside what Clarke called a 'lawyer.'

Honestly, I didn't understand their government. If I were in charge, Bellamy would be dead, regardless of his intentions. It's easier that way and builds respect... at least with my people, not Clarke's.

Snapping out of my curious gaze, Abby's presence infiltrates my vision.

"Commander." She addresses. A feeling of nausea overtakes me. She had walked in on Clarke and I last night and now I'm not sure how to feel confident in front of her. Still, I do my best, going back to the years I had trained for. Wearing my mask.

"Abby." I state, giving a slight nod.

Her eyes are wide and knowing and she wears an uneasy grin, as if it was forced. Her facial expression looks unnatural, as if there are other less pleasant thoughts flooding her mind.

"Are you ready?" She asks me. Apparently, I was beginning their trial.

"I am."

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