There was blood on the stones before sunrise.
Not much—just a smear, barely noticeable unless you were looking.
Kira was always looking.
The shadows were thick around the temple perimeter as she knelt beside the mark, fingers brushing it lightly. Still warm. Still fresh. She traced it backward, past a cracked column and toward a small, half-hidden door near the eastern courtyard.
An entrance only temple staff were meant to use.
She didn't hesitate.
She entered quietly, blade already in her hand.
The scent hit her first—metallic, familiar, unmistakable.
More blood.
Then a body.
Face-down. Robes soaked crimson.
She turned him over and froze.
It was one of the temple guards—Sef, a boy barely out of training, still too eager to prove himself.
A knife in the gut.
Not a soldier's kill.
Personal.
Kira stood slowly.
And she knew.
This wasn't an attack.
It was a message.
Lexa's expression was unreadable when she arrived. Beside her, Clarke looked stricken.
"How many?" Lexa asked quietly.
"Just him," Kira said. "So far."
Titus arrived moments later, face pale.
"He was on first watch," the Flamekeeper murmured. "He shouldn't have been alone."
"Someone wanted him found," Kira said. "Wanted me to find him."
Clarke glanced at her. "Why?"
Kira stood. "Because someone's playing a game. And they just made their move."
By midday, panic was growing again. The summit was on hold. Lexa had returned to isolation. Delegates whispered of sabotage, of unrest, of war brewing beneath the skin of diplomacy.
And still, no one knew who the enemy was.
Only that they were close.
Kira paced the war chamber. Bellamy and Indra flanked her, both silent.
"I don't like waiting," Bellamy finally said.
"You won't have to wait long," Kira muttered. "They're pushing us to react. They want us to tighten security. Distrust each other."
Indra spoke for the first time. "They want to fracture the alliance from within."
"Yes," Kira said. "And we're letting them."
She looked at Bellamy. "I need eyes. More than just guards. People who know how to blend in. Spies."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're building your own network."
"I'm protecting Lexa."
He smirked faintly. "And maybe the rest of us too."
Kira didn't reply.
But they both knew he was right.
That evening, Kira found Lexa on the roof of the tower.
She always came here when she needed to think.
Tonight, she didn't look like a Commander.
She looked like a girl on the edge of something dangerous.
"They killed one of your own," Kira said softly.
Lexa nodded.
"And carved a message yesterday," she added. "Why?"
"To remind me that power can't protect loyalty," Lexa said.
Kira stepped closer. "Do you still trust your inner circle?"
Lexa didn't look at her. "I trust them to serve the Coalition."
"That's not what I asked."
Lexa finally turned. "Titus. Gustus. Costia once. You now."
Kira blinked at that.
Lexa continued. "Everyone else has allegiance to me only because I wear this mantle."
Kira reached out and gently touched Lexa's wrist.
"I don't care about your mantle."
"I know," Lexa whispered. "That's what scares me."
Late that night, Linnea returned.
She knelt wordlessly, eyes dark.
"I found the traitor," she said.
Kira stiffened. "Who?"
"Gustus."
The words hit like a hammer.
Kira stared. "No."
"He was seen slipping into the eastern corridor. Speaking with a contact in Trishanakru. Carrying something wrapped in oilcloth—weapon-sized."
"No," Kira said again. "He's loyal."
"He's not loyal to you."
Kira's hands clenched into fists.
She didn't want to believe it.
Not until she saw it herself.
She waited until Gustus left the war room. Waited until he returned to his own quarters.
Then she followed.
He was alone when she entered.
"Kira," he said, surprised. "Is something wrong?"
"I was hoping you'd tell me."
She moved toward his chest, the one locked with steel clasps.
He didn't stop her.
Didn't move.
That was the second clue.
She opened it slowly.
Inside: maps. Dried meat. A dagger. An old pin—Azgeda's sigil, long scratched out.
And then—beneath false bottom boards—a slip of parchment.
With Lexa's schedule.
Exact locations. Timings. Guard rotations.
Her blood ran cold.
She turned to him, jaw tight.
"Why?"
Gustus looked at her.
Not angry.
Not afraid.
Just tired.
"For her," he said.
"She trusted you."
"She's become soft."
"She's becoming better."
"That's not what keeps her alive."
Kira shook her head. "You would've killed her."
"No," Gustus said. "But I would have let someone else try. If it meant she survived what comes next."
He moved suddenly—but not toward her.
Toward his blade.
Kira was faster.
The knife sank into his side before he could finish the draw.
He slumped.
She caught him as he fell, lowering him to the ground.
"Forgive me," he whispered.
"I can't," Kira said.
But her hand trembled as she held him.
She brought his body to Titus at dawn.
Lexa stood beside them, silent, unmoving.
"He would have died for you," Kira said quietly. "But he stopped being willing to live for you."
Lexa didn't speak for a long time.
Then:
"Bury him with honor."
Kira looked at her.
She hadn't cried.
But something in her was bleeding anyway.
The summit resumed that afternoon.
No one mentioned the deaths. The blood. The quiet wars.
But the alliances were harder now.
Smiles sharper. Voices colder.
And Lexa?
Lexa stood taller.
Harder.
More alone.
Kira watched her from across the table.
And made a vow.
No matter who she had to kill next, Lexa would not be alone again.
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