"Stay away from anyone who offers you a pill," Finnick murmured as he escorted Renata into President Snow's mansion, where the feast would be held.
She nodded and held onto his arm, keeping a pleasant smile on her face. "I don't think I'm going to want to eat ever again, after all these feasts." Nonetheless, they stopped at a table with a whole roast pig and Renata's mouth watered as the aroma entered her senses. "Maybe I could just have a bite, though." She wrinkled her nose when Finnick laughed at her and picked up a small piece, nodding in approval when she tasted it. "Really good. I'll be back," she told the Avox at the table, who bowed in response. "I'm ready to give my speech now."
"Oh, so now you're eager to speak? You aren't going to turn into an attention addict, are you?" Finnick teased, looking very debonair his dark grey suit.
"No, I'm just ready to go home," Renata replied. "I'm ready to feel the sun again, and see everyone I know. I'm sick of all this travelling…" She trailed off as someone walked up to her, smiling at them. "Oh, it's time? Thank you." She let go of Finnick's arm and followed the person towards the grand staircase, ascending it to the landing where a microphone was waiting for her.
The Capitol guests shuffled into the foyer until they were practically standing on top of one another. The scene was certainly different than any of her speeches at the Districts. No one looked very upset at the passing of a relative, of a child, and there was an explosion of different colors.
"Welcome, welcome," she spoke into the microphone, laughing along with the audience. "Sorry, I feel like I needed to do that at least once. I should be saying thank you for welcoming me so graciously into your home. Well, President Snow's home, anyway." More giggles from the audience made her smile and she caught a glimpse of Finnick nodding in encouragement. "It's because of you all that I'm standing right here today. In this beautiful dress that Fascal so skillfully created, eating this food with you fine folks." She paused a moment, feeling relatively at ease. It only took twelve other times to get her here. "I was very lucky to receive so many gifts in the arena, unlike some of the other tributes. Maybe it was my charm," she joked. "No, I know that it was out of the generosity of your hearts that saved me. So here I am, before all of you, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for sponsoring me…"
"She isn't like the others, Mr. President," Seneca murmured, standing in the indoor garden while the old man surveyed the roses. "I knew that from the start, that's why I didn't want her going around. She's innocent, not dangerous. She won on a fluke, on luck!"
"What are you saying, Seneca?" Snow murmured, stroking the petals of a blood-red rose. He finally decided on one and carefully pulled it to the side and exposed the stem, leading his clippers to it and snipping it.
"I don't want her to be a prostitute anymore. She isn't a threat, so she needn't be apprehended like one." Seneca's bright blue eyes didn't blink as Snow turned to look at him.
"You think so highly of her. And yet I feel the affections are one-sided. Do you not see that?"
He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Just please, allow this. I promise that it won't affect my performance, it won't change anything. Just say that you'll let her go. Please." He sighed when he heard Snow's footsteps near him and he slowly opened his eyes, meeting the old man's slanted gaze.
"What will you do in return for me, Seneca?" he asked. "What you're asking for…it won't come without payment."
"I'll do anything," Seneca answered right away.
Snow's thin lips tugged up and he nodded, "Very well, then. I offer my congratulations." He held out the freshly cut rose to him before turning away, dismissing him.
A pain in his thumb made Seneca gasp and he looked at his hand, seeing a trail of blood going down his thumb. The rose had pricked him, and he swallowed, feeling an odd mixture of elation and of fear of what was to come. His footsteps echoed on the tiled floor as he wandered back towards the party, hearing Renata's sweet voice as she stepped up to the microphone. He felt like he was going a bit mad. His senses were heightened as he followed the sound of her voice across the mansion, drawn to her. His palms were sweating, his heart rate was increasing, and he could hear his breathing grow louder as he neared her. She was what he strived to attain, she was worth everything he could risk, she was the prize to be won.
He pulled open the double doors that led to the top of the grand staircase where Renata was delivering her speech to the hundreds of partygoers and, via the cameras, the rest of the Capitol. When she turned to face him, he was completely taken aback at how beautiful she looked. Fascal had dressed her to his specifications; the floor-length beaded white dress made her look like an angel. She was a young woman, no real threat to anyone. He smiled when she gave him a concerned look and he shook his head, finding his voice finally.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," he announced, going to her side and taking hold of her hand. "I'm sure that her recount of her victory was riveting, but I have something to say that, in my opinion, might be a bit more enjoyable for you all to witness." He turned to Renata and he smiled at her confused expression, reaching to hold her other hand as well. "Hello, darling," he whispered, looking into her eyes.
Renata smiled shyly, a bit of pink in her cheeks. What was he getting at? Her heart fluttered in her chest as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black satin box.
The people below them watching them gasped as he opened it to the redheaded beauty, revealing the silver ring inside.
"Will you marry me, Renata Kelde?"
Renata felt her mouth turn dry and she looked from the ring, to Seneca, and to the numerous people watching them before looking back at him. Just behind his shoulder stood Finnick, and they locked eyes for a brief moment before he looked away from her. "Yes," she finally whispered, nodding and putting on a perfected blissful smile. "Yes, of…of course!"
The room burst into cheers and applause as Seneca slipped the ring onto her finger and then pulled her into his arms for a kiss.
"Rini! You're engaged!" Fascal squealed as she boarded the train. He, Salvatore, and the rest of her prep team swarmed around her, practically atwitter with excitement.
She was nearly knocked over by their barrage of kisses, hugs, and comments. Fascal was going on about how he was very excited to come up with a wedding dress. "The most coveted and beautiful dress of the century!" he squeaked in all his enthusiasm. Salvatore went on and on about how she and Seneca were going to be the most adored couple in the Capitol for a long time and that she would be accepted into their way of life as if she were born into it. She tried to show the same enthusiasm as they all did, but she couldn't help noticing that Finnick was nowhere to be seen.
"Let's see the ring!" Sal smiled, reaching for her hand. As he raised her hand, she took a good look at the band for the first time. It was a beautiful silver band, with an engraving of rope on the outside. The jewel set in the middle was a nicely sized sapphire, the deep blue of it matching the color of her eyes.
"Take it off, love, I want to take a closer look," Fascal implored her.
"Alright," she murmured, letting go of Sal's hand and going to tug off the ring. She furrowed her brow as it didn't budge and she gave it another try, sighing. "It won't come off," she swallowed. She gritted her teeth and gave it another go, feeling her chest tighten. No matter how hard she tried to remove the ring, it wouldn't come off her finger. She blurted out a cry of frustration and felt her knees tremble. Fascal's arms caught her when she fell forward in tears, quickly becoming inconsolable.
The realization of the situation seemed to be hitting her finally. She was tied to Seneca now. Four wouldn't be her home anymore; this would be the last time she would see her district for a long time. The Capitol would her residence now, with Seneca her husband. No sun, no surf, no sand, no Cecil, no Four.
No Finnick.
Hi guys...so...hm. Please barrage me with reviews, I'm very curious as to your responses. Renata Crane...interesting. Stick around, I promise I'll keep throwing you curveballs ;)
-Kelsey :3