Meenah Turbine, District Five
The hands of the clock inched their way around as I sat vibrating with excitement in a small salon room. I peeked into the mirror and my mouth split into a smile when I saw impossibly rosy cheeks and perfect makeup looking back at me. I wasn't even one for dressing up, not really. I'd never thought I was very pretty- really, I thought I was plain. But today I looked radiant.
It was Caio's idea, obviously. I'd always thought what was the point? It's just a piece of paper. A piece of paper doesn't tell me I love someone. I decide if I love someone. Why go through all that fuss and expense when we could just... be in love?
"But darling, we have to have the wedding! Caio had pleaded, his high blood creeping back into his cheeks and his voice. All my life I've dreamed of that day. The dress. My suit. The flowers. Dancing- dancing with my new wife!The splendid cake. Going home with my new wife! Please, dearest, say you'll have a wedding with me."
It had been years since Caio's second Games. He'd mellowed out considerably since then. These days he only went back to his old drama school vocabulary if he was reallypassionate about something. I couldn't begrudge him his passion. It was one of the reasons I'd fallen in love with him. So here I was, in a dress he'd insisted he couldn't see before the ceremony. I would take it to my grave- some secrets are okay to keep- that I didn't care at all what my dress looked like. I'd picked the one that best matched his suit.
Victory is a double-edged sword. An unlimited wedding budget came at the expense of Capitolite bigwigs fighting over who got to choose everything. Most everything from my dress store to the flatware was influenced by who had an in with someone in power. What they didn't reckon on, however, was Caio. While he was political enough to let most things go, when he stuck to his guns, there was no resisting him. So I could see Caio's vision for his wedding in the burgundy and gold brocade table runners, or the bold peach-colored peonies stacked everywhere.
Later, I wouldn't remember much about before the ceremony. My mother and I said all those deep things mothers and daughters do before a wedding. My bridesmaids- all up-and-coming Capitol debutantes who I'd just met but was told to pretend I was best friends with- filed out the door and I realized the music I heard was my own wedding march.
In a moment I would be married. I wasn't scared, though it was mostly because I'd gotten my pre-wedding jitters the day before and got them all out of the way. As absolutely ridiculous as Caio's and my courtship was, I was certain about this. It was a classic story of a girl meeting a boy, then she kills him, and then they fall in love. The way I looked at it, we obviously got through the worst already, so after that everything would be easy.
There he was. I floated out into the aisle and there he was. At the end of the aisle, Caio was looking back at me- and he was already crying. He was wearing one of his ridiculously baroque outfits that anyone else would look like a jester in but he somehow looked like he belonged in. I faintly smelled the scent of peony from the petals I was walking on.
The officiant said a bunch of stuff, I supposed. I wasn't paying attention to most of it. Later, when I looked at the photos, I saw how lovely I looked in the gold-accented white flounced gown. At the time, it didn't seem important. All I noticed was that Caio was with me and we were about to make that forever.
And all I heard was, "I do."