Katniss

In the days that followed, Snow launched a brutal campaign to find Peeta and his gang, but to no avail. Rue and I led His Majesty to the campsite, but it had been cleared out. The only thing left were the makeshift oven, where Peeta had baked his bread, and the fire pit where we'd all sang and danced together. Where Peeta had asked me if he could have me.

Snow devoted most of his time to pursuing Peeta, neglecting his other duties as Panem's monarch. He interrogated me for information, anything that would help him track his enemy. It had been painful to answer the king's questions. Aside from what kind of weapons they used, I had little pertinent knowledge to aid him. All I'd done while in captivity was hunt and swim and fight and rob a carriage. And fall in love.

The one significant clue I'd kept to myself was the mockingbird call the group used to send messages to each other through the forest. I'd heard it once when Thresh had been on lookout—Peeta had explained it to me later.

When His Majesty no longer had use for me, he gave me back my sister. The guards escorted her to my chamber, and she pushed past them and sprinted into my arms. "Katniss!"

"Prim!" I clung to her so tight, furious about the dark circles under her eyes and the way she trembled. She'd been terrified and alone.

We crept into my bed. Amid the glow of candlelight, I stroked her fine blond hair, breathed in her scent, and relished the feeling of her willowy arms around me. She wept and told me the whole story, how she'd been taken from home and brought here, how she'd been confined to a room in another part of the palace. The only indication that she'd been harmed was the bandage on her hand. They'd cut off her bracelet and sliced her palm in order to stain it with blood as a warning to me.

Our father was on his way to Panem. Initially, he'd been threatened not to come to the palace if he wanted his daughters to live. Now that I wasn't an asset for Snow beyond my role as Seneca's fiancé, the king had requested my father join us in the castle until the wedding. When Prim informed me of this, my heart clenched. I'd hoped to escort her to The Seam. To give myself space before the nuptials, which would take place in a fortnight.

Apparently, Snow had other plans. I supposed that he wanted to keep me here in case new developments sprouted regarding the hunt for Peeta. Did His Majesty want my family nearby in order to ensure my cooperation? Did that mean the king doubted my allegiance?

With my sister tucked in my arms, I forced myself not to dwell on this, instead taking solace in her silvery voice.

"Was it scary?" she asked when I told her the story of Peeta's band of thieves.

"At first," I answered.

"Did they hurt you? Was the Mellark boy cruel?" Before I could answer, the color drained from her cheeks. I could tell her imagination had begun to travel down more private terrain. "Oh, Kat, did he...did he..." She frowned. "You're blushing."

"It's of no consequence," I said, tapping my finger against her nose.

She wiggled away from me to get a better look at my face. I hated it whenever she stared at me like that. It rendered me powerless to conceal truths I might wish to protect. I turned around, but she simply crawled over me like a bug. "Katniss, you didn't!"

"I—"

Prim slapped my pillow. "You did! Katniss, wherefore? He's a criminal, a cutpurse, and you let..." She tilted her head at me, registering something anew. "Do you care about him?"

I swallowed. "He's an easy boy to care for."

She hesitated. "So easy?"

"Dreadfully thus."

I spoke of our friendship and my growing fondness for him. My sister's mood shifted yet again. This time, to intrigue. "Is he handsome?"

My account would never do Peeta justice, but I endeavored. Prim must have been satisfied because she sighed and ran a finger over the bedspread. "You miss him."

"It's not to be. He's safe. You're safe. That's all that matters."

"I wish I could unbreak your heart."

"Your very existence is a magnificent help with that," I laughed.

"It's not fair for you to marry Seneca when your heart is occupied. Tell me you won't mourn this. Even if it's from a distance, and being promised to another, you shouldn't believe Peeta has cast you aside. This Delly girl you spoke of wounded him so greatly that it's tainting his judgment. If he's smart enough to outwit Snow, he's smart enough to understand matters of the heart."

"No one is ever smart enough to understand matters of the heart. One moment, I was determined to protect you. The next..." Shame prevented me from speaking to her face. "The next, I forsook your safety and chose his instead."

"Don't say that. Don't blame yourself," Prim said. "This wasn't a choice between me and him. You had faith in finding a solution together, that's why you told him. I don't feel any less important, and I don't expect you to love me more than anyone in this world."

"I expect it," I said.

"You expect too much. You're passionate, Katniss. You will never be able to organize your feelings to your satisfaction. You always fail to identify your own emotions until they've been stuck to you for a while."

Mayhap she was right. Over the course of one glorious night, Peeta had seized me. How swiftly my concerns had changed. He'd affected my heart the way wine affected the senses: subtly, languidly, and then immediately. In one fell swoop. Without giving me time to prepare myself. I would never understand it.

Prim said, "In time, he will come to understand you meant no ill-will. I'm sure he thinks of you often. Let that be a comfort."

"I'll try," I lied, and then coaxed her to sleep.

Time passed, but I received no news of Peeta. No robberies. Perhaps he was waiting until Snow scaled back on his search. Believing Peeta hadn't forgiven me was easier than figuring he'd come to the sense Prim had argued over. I didn't want to think of him missing me. I wanted him to move on. Because then I'd have no further capacity to hurt him, especially with my wedding approaching.

At night, I thought of him, and I touched myself, crying out his name as release washed over me. And then I cried for real until I fell asleep.

My happiest days were spent taking walks with Prim. We reunited with our father, the three of us holding court for hours. I endured Effie's tutelage. She kept warning me not to "raise brouhaha" in the castle, as if she expected me to commit a faux-pas at every corner. I rejoiced when Sheriff Abernathy arrived for the festivities, particularly because I knew the "Unsavory Tosspot," as Effie called him, would put my chaperone in a sour mood. The first place the sheriff wanted a tour of was the wine cellar.

I found myself taking up foreign activities. I interviewed the gamekeepers about how they did their job, pretending that my interest was merely due to the fact that I wanted to be a knowledgeable mistress, that it was my duty as Seneca's betrothed to know how the palace worked. When really, I learn about wild animals and hunting.

I practiced archery. At first, a heavily-freckled instructor was hired for me, but he lost patience with my refusal to listen. Which was only because I'd already lost patience with his arrogance. He kept wiping his brow with a handkerchief and having fits about everything I did. It wasn't my fault that that stableman had gotten in the way. He'd been hiding behind a bush and relieving himself. How was I supposed to know he'd been there? Besides, he was recovering fine.

The longer I was confined to the palace, the more I just wanted to shoot something. I wasn't interested in technique as much as feeling the weapon. It turned out, I didn't need my instructor, after all. Remembering the way Peeta had positioned my fingers and the words he'd whispered, my aim grew more and more promising. The arrow's tip stopped piercing my hand once I'd perfected my grip. The first time I hit my mark, Prim and I jumped up and down and squealed. My practice increased tenfold after that.

Seneca presented me with a new engagement ring. Another emerald. I removed it when I practiced with my bow and arrow.

The prince crossed the gardens to visit me during an early shooting session. His lanky form crossed the manicured lawn, raven black hair slicked behind his ears. It didn't matter that summer had peaked. For his face, flat and wide as a dinner plate, always looked cold to me. He hid his conventional good-looks behind a comical-looking beard. When he reached me, he took both my hands and kissed them, surveying my green gown with appreciation. A motif of leaf vine embroidery, in a lighter shade of green, adorned the bell sleeves and scooped bodice. It was my favorite dress. It reminded me of the woods.

I resisted the urge to retract my fingers. Not only because Seneca repelled me, but because I wanted to massage my stomach. It was hurting again. It had been since breakfast, when Cook had fed us eggs and a cup of berries I'd never tasted before.

"Another morning of sport?" he asked. "Your occupations have been rather a surprise, my dear."

The prince was observant. None of these things had formally been my fancy. I'd changed. He'd noticed.

"Being here has aroused the inquisitive side in me," I said, hoping to flatter him.

It was the wrong answer, because he was indeed flattered. Too much so. And coming far too close to me. He fingered a lock of hair that had escaped from the braided bun at the nape of my neck, which Rue had expertly fashioned to resemble a blossoming flower.

"Mmm," he said, icy eyes fixing on my cleavage. "Arousal is a promising start to our happiness. I'll endeavor to make a study out of you then. In other ways."

I stepped back and aimed an arrow at him. "You'll have to catch me first."

I'd intended to make it look like I was teasing. But suddenly, I found myself wanting to release the arrow. Seneca studied my expression, which should have been coy and flirtatious. Instead, I was fully aware how dead serious I looked. He seemed shocked for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. "My dear, I cannot wait to rob you of that scowl."

I lowered my weapon and fake-laughed, relishing how close I'd come to puncturing his lung.

My stomach cramps got worse. To Prim's horror, I began spotting blood between my legs. I hadn't been expecting my monthly flux, so a physician was called to examine me. I had no choice but to expose myself to him, praying he would say nothing about the fact that my virtue was no longer intact. To my everlasting relief, I wasn't carrying a child. The doctor ordered me to rest, claiming I was under stress because of the wedding.

That evening, Snow called for me. This was an event. He hadn't requested my presence in weeks. Hope and fear mingled inside me that he'd learned something new regarding Peeta's whereabouts. I smoothed the folds of my gown and crept into the royal suite.

"Ahhh, the illustrious Lady Everdeen." Snow rose from his seat, his hair always taking me off guard, so glaringly white it looked like an experiment. He cut a magnificent figure for his age and dwarfed me with his size.

I sank into a curtsy. "Your Majesty wished to see me?"

He beckoned me to sit across from him. Tea had been set out. Returning to his chair, he crossed his legs in a manner that felt menacing to me. I wasn't thirsty, but I drank all the same. The tea tasted bitter.

"I heard you were unwell today. I was concerned."

"Your Majesty is very kind. I'm better now."

"I also called you here to say we're mitigating our search for Mellark for the time being. I'm exhausting my resources, and the boy is exhausting me with his evasiveness. I hope that doesn't disappoint you. I know he offended you most severely. But the most we've gathered is one report indicating a weapons convoy was attacked a few days ago on the main road. The assailants disappeared, along with a generous supply of arrows."

I sipped to hide my grin.

"So it seems the little fellow is beginning to take chances again. All the same, I'd prefer to pull back, open a door, make him comfortable to start thieving again, to the point where he lets his guard down. We'll monitor the reports, see if he reveals a pattern. That sort of thing. To my great annoyance, he requires more tact and patience." The king leaned back and laced his fingers together. "If I didn't want his head on a pike, I'd request he oversee my armed forces. I've never known such a gifted vagrant. Witnesses testified to his speed and grace as though they'd never seen a likeness. I keep thinking how Mellark slipped so easily from my grasp even after being apprehended. Although his little band of cutpurses seemed to be well-positioned to help him escape...and well outfitted. It's as if he was expecting to get caught." Snow eyed me. "Why would he think that?"

I rubbed my palms against my lap. When I first returned to the palace, Snow had questioned me about the uniforms Peeta's gang had been seen wearing. I mentioned that they'd already owned stolen uniforms but had never needed to use them before. That they'd come with us and stationed themselves in other areas of the bailey just in case we got caught. And when they saw Peeta get taken, they'd surged into action. I didn't give many details, figuring that would appear more honest.

Again, I settled on a less lucid answer. "It's hard to guess the workings of an outlaw's mind, sire."

"Of course. And you couldn't analyze his escape, nor the spectacle it caused, because once we detained him, you disappeared. According to your lady's maid, you fainted and were carried to your chamber."

There was nothing to say to that.

"How do you like your bridal gown?"

I choked on my tea. The change of topic alerted me further. He was trying to imbalance me by shifting direction unexpectedly. Why? Was it to gauge an uncensored reaction?

"It's beautiful, sire," I said.

I hated my dress.

"I've noticed you taking up archery as of late. What influenced you?"

"Deadly sports intrigue me."

He chuckled. "It's a shame about the wedding night."

"Your Majesty?"

Snow leaned forward, plucked a rose from the vase on the tea tray, and sniffed. "I trust you heard me, my lady." He flung the rose to the side. "Do you know of the nightlock berry, Lady Everdeen?" Without letting me answer, he continued. "When consumed, it creates pains in the stomach and bleeding. It's not dangerous, but it has just enough potency to cause discomfort. I believe those were the berries you ate this morning."

The teacup clattered in my hand. I set it down.

"My physician examined you closely."

I fought to steady my breathing.

"May I ask who the lucky man was?"

Snow had been suspecting me. It came together now. He'd spent the last few weeks observing me, inventorying my behavior, calculating my all my actions. I'd been fed those berries on purpose. The king had orchestrated that doctor's examination. I'd been careless.

He was repulsive.

"Sire, I—"

"Either you're a more conniving creature than even I gave you credit for, or you allowed yourself to get swept away by a pair of very skilled archer's hands. Alas, Lady Everdeen. My son will be disappointed, but as you know, I'd divined that we had an unspoken agreement not to lie to each other. Pity."

The next thing I knew, a hard object rammed into the side of my head, and I was dragged out of the room.

kpkpkpkpkp

Peeta

He trudged out of the woods and caught the tail-end of Gale and Johanna's fight. Thresh sat in the corner and massaged his temples, signaling they'd been at it for a while.

"I'm telling you, he's not fine. He hasn't been fine for weeks," Gale protested.

"You're being dramatic."

"I don't call not having a decent catch in ages dramatic, Jo. He isn't shooting straight and—"

Peeta threw down a pile of squirrels at the fire pit to get his friends' attention. He may have been behaving despondent of late, but criticizing his hunting skills was where he drew the line.

Johanna and Gale paused, burdening Peeta with the same looks of apprehension and weariness his band had perfected since their escape from the palace. It was as if they expected him to ignite at any moment. He'd only hit Finnick that one time—Peeta failed to remember what the argument had been about. Finnick was still cross at him.

They'd moved their camp the minute they'd returned, disregarding whatever their horses couldn't carry. They'd stayed on the move for weeks while Snow sniffed them down, only now deeming it secure enough to establish a new post in the woods. Peeta had sacrificed his stock of arrows in the escape, and he'd had to craft alternative ones from branches. They'd only been sufficient to hunt. For real bows, he and his gang had intercepted a weapons convoy four days ago. After so long without proper arrows, his new collection revived him.

Still, they lacked a great deal of supplies. Peeta missed being near the lake—a crucial source of water. He also missed his outdoor oven. Crude as it had been, it had taken an eternity to build. And baking always eased his woes.

Gale rushed a hand through his hair. "Squirrel. Again."

Peeta wrinkled his nose. He flung his arrow pack to the ground with such force that it sent their fire wood pile toppling over. "Who are you to complain?" he yelled. "We're beggars, not choosers. We're peasants living slightly better than other peasants. We don't have a castle to provide whatever fare we fancy. We're nothing like them, so eat your damn meal and shut up!"

His friends stared at him.

Gale lifted his palms in surrender. "I only meant—"

"I'm not finished," Peeta snapped.

"I take it breakfast has arrived?" Finnick asked, emerging from his tent and wiping his eyes.

"It's not morning, Finn. It's afternoon," Johanna said.

"Truly?"

It had come out of nowhere. The talk of hunting had led to thoughts of food, to thoughts of real food, to thoughts of banquets of food, to thoughts of celebrations, to thoughts of weddings. One in particular.

Peeta still wasn't used to having a temper—no thanks to Lady Everdeen—so he paced, hoping to shake it off. "I'm sick and tired of being treated like I'll break. I'm not glass!"

"We know, Peet," Finnick said, frowning.

"I'm fine, dammit."

Johanna strode over to Peeta, grabbed his chin, and made him face her. She examined his features and then groaned. "Gale's right. It wasn't a tryst for you, and you're not getting better."

Peeta slapped her hand away.

"You fell in love with her."

"I didn't—"

"You're in love with her." Johanna pulled on her hair. "You spectacular idiot! Why? After what she did, how could you be so stupid?"

Peeta sought to deny it when Thresh leapt from his seat. "Something's wrong," he said.

The band turned to see Rue loitering on the fringes of their camp. She resembled a wingless bird, stricken and ready to collapse. "Peeta," she whimpered. "You have to help. Please."

In an unusually nurturing move for her, Johanna sat the girl by the pit and brought her a canteen of water. The sight poisoned Peeta with trepidation. "Help with what, Rue?"

"It's Lady Everdeen."

It wasn't Rue who'd spoken. The gang stood to attention, grabbing their weapons and leveling them at the red-nosed man who halted a few feet away. An older man who seemed not to care a fig about their battle stance. Indeed, it was clear they amused him.

"Armed children," he observed in a sloppy voice. "Sweeting, that ax is far too big for you."

The ax flew past his head and lodged into a branch. "Try me," Johanna sneered.

"Well, then. Do I actually have some fighters here?" he asked.

"He's with me," Rue said. "He's from The Seam."

"Well, boy," the man said to Gale. "Do you not recognize me? I caught you trying to steal one of my geese when you were ten. Then years later, I nabbed your foolish hide for poaching."

"Sheriff Abernathy," Gale said, lowering his sword.

"Pleasure to know I leave an impression. You have anything stronger than water? It's been a long day."

"Peeta, he's a friend of Lady Everdeen," Gale said.

Peeta relaxed his bow. The rest of the group followed suit.

"So you're the strapping lad what stole her ladyship's maidenhead, eh? You must be quiet a good thief. Never thought she'd give that up, not even to that potpie-faced fiancé of hers."

"Haymitch," Rue pleaded. "Please, just tell them."

Evidently, the man had a tendency to digress even in times of peril. His face turned grim. "Snow knows what Lady Everdeen did for you. She's been charged with treason and is set to be taken to the executioner's block at dawn."

It wasn't until his bow hit the ground that Peeta realized he'd dropped it.

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