Author's Note: Another chapter all prettied up by my beta, katnissinme. She wrangles in my thoughts when they get a little weird.

It is not a very odd thing to receive an invitation to dinner from Sae Sherbourne. It usually arrives on thick parchment, neatly folded by her butler, Beetee. But this time when it arrives, I am a bit out of sorts.

Prim reads the invite aloud, "Oh, we are all to attend. That means you too, uncle," she calls out to the veranda loudly. We get a "yes, yes, I hear you" in return. She reads on, "The Hawthornes will be attending and it looks as though the Odairs will be there as well."

When the time comes for me to dress, I fuss over which dress to wear and then scold myself for being foolish. I'm standing in my shift, my hair scattered down my back, running my hands over my face when the creak of the floorboards startles me.

"What is the matter with you child?" There is Effie in the doorway, hair pinned up a mile high with an apron on.

"I'm unsure of what to wear to the dinner tonight is all. I'm fine."

"I never thought I'd see the day…" But she doesn't finish. Instead she sashays to my wardrobe and thumbs through my clothing. "Perhaps I could pull out one of your mother's formal dresses from seasons passed?"

I just stare at her wringing my hands.

"Just give me a moment, my dear."

She returns with an armful of jewel-toned dresses, "Now, he saw you in that lovely green dress at the assembly, so…" She shuffles to an eggplant colored gown.

It's futile to feign ignorance and ask about whom she is talking. Effie will just scold me for being nonsensical, and I rather hate when her voice gets that shrill.

She laces my corset quickly, and a tad too tightly, then buttons up the back of the gown. She curls and pins my hair up and steps back to assess her work. She leans in again, pinching my cheeks. "You look lovely, dear."

I feel exceptionally shy when I am announced by Beetee once we arrive. Perhaps it is because I spend my days in cotton dresses and not boned corsets that thrust my small breasts up and curve my waist. Or perhaps I am afraid my countenance will betray my eagerness to be here. I greet everyone, saving Mr. Mellark for last. His jaw seems to be slack when I finally curtsey before him.

Gale, Rory and Hazelle Hawthorne arrive shortly after, followed by the Odairs. We are served wine before moving into the dining hall that has been filled with candles instead of gaslight to create a warm, flickering glow. Mr. Mellark bids me to sit next to him. The candlelight bounces off his golden lashes and my fingers twitch, aching to see if they feel as soft as they look. The first course is served.

"That color is quite becoming on you, Miss Everdeen."

"Thank you Mr. Mellark."

Sae's voice bellows in the hall. "Miss Everdeen, perhaps you would read a sonnet for us this evening?" She leans towards the Odairs, "She has such a commanding voice even though she is quite shy. She is by far my favorite reader, aside from my nephew of course."

"I'd be delighted, Mrs. Sherbourne." Peeta smiles at me.

"And perhaps Miss Primrose could entertain us with her piano forte?"

Primrose beams. "Yes, of course, Mrs. Sherbourne."

The conversations begin to flow around us.

Haymitch sits across from Peeta and I. "So, Mr. Mellark, tell me what it is that you do exactly."

"Well, Mr. Abernathy, I paint and write. I sculpt on occasion. A bit of everything I suppose."

Haymitch looks unimpressed, as he does with most. I speak up to save Mr. Mellark, "What is your most recent project?"

"I completed a portrait for Lady Johanna Mason."

"I can't imagine sitting still for that long," I judge.

"It is challenging. When you are painting a person, you must pay attention to the little things: the creases at the corners of eyes, the turn of feet or the curve of a hip." His eyes rake quickly down my bodice and back up again. Had I blinked, I would have missed it. I clumsily reach for my glass to quench my suddenly dry mouth.

"How poetic." Prim calls across from us, smiling like a Cheshire cat. Madge and Gale have eyebrows raised in my direction. Haymitch continues to look impassive and Mr. Mellark averts his gaze from me.

Over the main course, Mrs. Odair talks of her husband and how suavely he acted to win her heart. She shares funny stories from their courting, including shouting at the top of his lungs in the busiest square in London that they were to be married. Primrose, naturally, wants to know everything about their wedding.

By dessert, I had learned that Mr. Odair owned a respected company in London where he constructed fine carriages. He had started it from scratch and had almost completely thrived on word of mouth praise.

"I've just hired a man from this area a few months back. A very hard worker by the name of Matthew Brutus. Perhaps you know him?"

My family sucks in a breath. Hazelle drops her fork. And then Haymitch starts to laugh.

Matthew Brutus is a burly sort of man with more muscle than mind. Something I might have told him the last time I saw him.

"Sure we know Mr. Brutus. Asked for Katniss' hand about a year ago. Thrilled Marianne to death" Haymitch sputters out between chuckles.

"I did like him" my mother says wistfully.

"But our little spit-fire here wouldn't have him."

I cannot meet anyone's eyes. The silence is deafening. I turn my head in the general direction of Sae, "If you'll excuse me, I am in need of some fresh air, Mrs. Sherbourne."

"Of course dear."

And then I flee. I climb the stairs and through the corridor to the balcony overlooking the fountain. The mugginess hits me, leaving me breathless. I want nothing more than to tear off my bindings and crawl into bed.

"Miss Everdeen?"

I spin to find Mr. Mellark standing at the doorway, hesitant.

"May I join you?"

I smile, "Of course."

He takes his place beside me, resting his elbows on the railings. And we sit like that for some time. Primrose starts to play on the piano below us but no one comes to gather us.

I break the quiet, "I do not want you to think me thoughtless about Mr. Brutus and Mr. Gloss. I just did not…I wasn't...um…I did not intend for them to propose. I-I-"

"I do not think that of you, Miss Everdeen. In fact, I quite admire that about you. Furthermore, I am grateful for it. I would not have the good fortune to be standing here on a balcony with you alone if you had accepted those proposals."

I chuckle. "My mother may faint when yet another birthday passes without an engagement."

"And when will that be?"

"Oh, a few weeks after my sister will be married. The eighth of May."

He looks delighted at the information, smiling out into the darkness. "Perhaps your sister's wedding can keep her occupied enough not to notice."

I laugh lightly, "Perhaps we should go back before we are missed."

He offers his arm and I wind mine through his, bringing my hand up to curl around his upper arm. A grin spreads across my face at this simple touch. He is grinning too. We descend the stairs towards the sound of my sister's melody.

"You do look lovely this evening, Miss Everdeen. But then again, I think you always look lovely."

And then we enter the parlour, my face burning from his compliments. He waits for me to be seated and then takes a spot across the room from me. I feel his eyes on me while I speak with Annie and Sae. And when I stroll to the books to find a few passages I may read, I feel his gaze follow me. I do not dare look up for fear the heat may overtake my body. I hear everyone clap when Primrose has ended her song. Sae calls on me and I go to stand in front of her company. My voice feels a bit unsteady tonight, despite having read aloud dozens of times.

"If Iwere loved, as I desire to be,
What is there in the great sphere of the earth,
And range of evil between death and birth,
That I should fear,—if I were loved by thee?
All the inner, all the outer world of pain
Clear Love would pierce and cleave, if thou wert mine,
As I have heard that, somewhere in the main,
Fresh-water springs come up through bitter brine.
'Twere joy, not fear, claspt hand-in-hand with thee,
To wait for death—mute—careless of all ills,
Apart upon a mountain, tho' the surge
Of some new deluge from a thousand hills
Flung leagues of roaring foam into the gorge
Below us, as far on as eye could see."

I sneak a glance up and over to Mr. Mellark. He has his elbow propped up on the arm of the channel back chair he occupies, his chin resting within his hand. The candlelight creates shadows on the hollows of his cheeks and the expanse of his neck that make him look more masculine, more rugged. I let out a breath and must look away. I cannot bring myself to look his way again until I have read through my selections and taken my seat back across from him. I will myself to stare at him with the same intensity, quirking my lips into a small smile. A grin overcomes his face.

As we leave that evening, Primrose and Rory insist that Finnick and Annie come to her wedding, to which they happily oblige. With a smug smile on her face, she turns to Mr. Mellark.

"Of course, I would be most happy if you attended as well, Mr. Mellark if only to keep my dear sister company."

I let out a sigh.

"It would be an honor, Miss Primrose. And I shall take my appointed task very seriously."

The sonnet featured is written by Alfred Lord Tennyson