~Chapter Two~

Imperial Extravaganza

Cleopatra Imperial, 29 years old

A list of 35 or so names with datas and short biographies. Barely half an hour to memorize them. Cleopatra had her job cut out for her.

The woman sat cross legged on her bed and glared at the papers laying haphazardly in front of her; she run her right hand through her blue locks in frustration while she rubbed her belly with the other. It was April; her due date was nearing fast, only one week and she could finally hold her daughter in her arms. She was tired, hungry and even the smallest things irritated her. And on the top of that, in 30 minutes her home will be flooded with people she knew nothing about. The annual feast for potential sponsors was the only thing she hated about her husband's job. The Head Gamemaker was expected to hold it every year, but Cleopatra simply couldn't come to terms with it. What was the point of the event, if the sponsors were most likely never going to meet each other again?

There was only one logical explanation. She had to memorize all these people because the universe hated her.

She run over the list again and again, but to no avail. She couldn't concentrate, not when she could feel her little one moving around restlessly.

The bedroom door opened and Dragan came in with silent steps. He was dressed in an elegant golden suit which strangely harmonized with his pink hair. He wore make-up, something Cleopatra rarely saw on her husband. She fell in love yet again.

The man sat down at the edge of the bed, taking his wife's hand in his. Cleopatra let out a long sigh and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"Everything is ready for our guests."

"Good."

The woman saw from the corner of her eyes how Dragan took the list with the names in his hand. He hummed in thought before putting it back.

"Why can't they be the same as last year?" pouted Cleopatra as she raised her head to look in his eyes. "It was hell trying to memorize them back then too. And now this? Look at their names! They are too unique, are they even real ones?"

Dragan chuckled at his wife's frustration. "Yes, they are. Just try to do your best, okay? I won't force you to know every detail, just try to remember the most essential things. Like their names and age, the basics. Can you do that?"

After a couple of moments, she nodded with a small smile. "I'll try."

Dragan planted a loving kiss on her forehead, before standing up. "I'll leave you to it. I'll be in the ballroom if you need me." With that, he was gone within moments.

Cleopatra sometimes forgot that they lived in a mansion. She was born into a family with a poorer socioeconomic status; in her childhood, they used to live in an apartment at the outskirts of the Capitol. It wasn't too extravagant by the Capitol standards, but it was a million times better than what the districts had.

The woman turned her attention back to the papers. She picked up the papers which held the most important informations; at least what she deemed as important; and threw the other ones on the ground. She could do this.

Cleopatra looked over the list once again, with much more determination than before.

...

She entered the ballroom one hour after the party began; being fashionably late. All eyes turned towards her fragile form dressed in a caramel colored simple gown. She wore flats instead of high heels, the small diamonds on her dress beamed in the light, and the soft fabric and nude make-up made her look like an angel. It wasn't her most beautiful outfit, but it was comfortable, and that's what a pregnant woman needed in her ninth month.

She looked around the room, trying to recall the names of the guests. The woman winced in discomfort when she realized that she remembered only about half of them.

"Smile," appeared Dragan beside her seemingly out of nowhere. He took Cleopatra's hand in his, leading her away from the entrance. The guests turned their attention away from her, but she knew that the other women were already gossiping about her. Their postures and disgusted expressions gave it away almost immediately.

"The president is here too," whispered Dragan in Cleopatra's ear in a worried tone, all the while maintaining his polite smile and confident appearance.

"What!?" She looked at her husband in disbelief. "What do you mean? He shouldn't be here!"

"Shh. Others might hear you."

"S-sorry," she stuttered as she looked around, but it seemed that nobody heard them. The woman squeezed Dragan's hand tighter.

"I don't know why, but he just showed up all of a sudden without any kind of warning. And when I greeted him he… he was polite, Cleopatra. He didn't have that venomous smile or the sardonic glint in his eyes. He was nice. It was terrifying."

"I can't believe this." She instinctively raised her free hand to her lips. She just couldn't comprehend why President Snow showed up at their party, why he was acting so out of character. The woman looked around the ballroom with bold movements, her eyes searching for one particular person. After moments of searching, she finally spotted him. President Coriolanus Snow stood tall among the crowd of sponsors, his eyes fixed on the couple. A shiver run down her spine.

"You should greet him too," managed Dragan between gritted teeth.

"I know," she sighed in irritation.

The two approached the president with cautious steps. Snow straightened his back, making him look even more menacing. His unnaturally white hair practically shined in the light and, like always, a white rose was present in the pocket of his suit coat.

"Good evening, Mr. President," said Cleopatra with a hospitable smile. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"

The woman took a step backwards with wide eyes; her mouth hung open in sheer horror as she realized her mistake. Her sarcastic undertone didn't go unnoticed by the two men. The president fixed the couple with a blank expression, and Cleopatra immediately regretted showing up at the party.

"Mr. President!" Dragan stepped forward with a shaky voice and a stiff back. "Please excuse my wife's inappropriate greeting. We had a fight prior to this party and she must be still upset."

"Don't worry about petty things, Dragan."

Dragan began to discuss his progress on this year's Arena with the president, trying desperately to change the subject; but that unreadable look never left the president's eyes.

...

The guests left around midnight, leaving behind a mess so big that Cleopatra was sure the Avoxes will have to clean for days. This, however, was the least of her concerns.

"What were you thinking!?" yelled Dragan more out of panic than anger. He walked in circles in their living room so fast, that it was a miracle he wasn't dizzy yet. The woman hid her face behind her hands as she sat down on the leather couch.

"I-I don't know. I didn't want to sound so sarcastic!" And it was true. Those words just slipped out before she could register what she was doing. "I did not want to offend him."

"I thought he was going to kill us on the spot. But he acted so…?" The man ran a hand through his pink locks tiredly as he threw himself on the couch too. "I can't understand that man."

"Neither can I."

"Just… Let's not do it again."

"I'll keep my mouth shut the next time I see him."

A/N: Hi~! Here we have another chapter with our Capitolites! I'm halfway done with the District 1 reaping so starting from the next chapter, your tributes will get the spotlight instead of Dragan and Cleopatra!

If you want to submit, there are still a couple of slots left; and if you reserved a slot make sure to send your tribute in when you have the time!

Stay tuned!

~Nessie