Hi there :D just for reference, Daivat is prounced day-vat (if said really fast it can sound like David). That is all ^_^ enjoy the chapter!

"Wake up, sleepyhead! Today is the day!" Winnie nearly blasts out my eardrum waking me up. I realize I've overslept and apologize. She tells me Dia did, too so I don't feel as bad.

We sit down as usual and begin breakfast. Dia is her usual talkative self, having a conversation with Winnie about the latest trends in fashion, which I couldn't understand even if I tried. So, Atticus and I talk about different things, like the view from my window. He tells me all about the mountains surrounding the Capitol and how they used to be called, "The Rockies".

Our history discussion is interrupted by Winnie saying, "Oh! Look at the time! We need to get you both ready! They begin the lineup in an hour!"

And so, we're rudely pushed into our showers. When we come out, blow dried and looking ten times better, she hands us each a dress and a pair of white, flat shoes almost like the ballet slippers that dancers wear on TV—except in actual shoe form. They're pretty and even have a little bow on them. These I can live with.

Though, I'm most likely going home tonight anyways, so what does my opinion in clothing matter?

I slip into the black dress—the same one she gave Diamante. Except, when I see Dia in it, I immediately laugh at myself for thinking I would look even close to as beautiful as her. Sure, it makes me look curvy and pretty—but it makes Dia look gorgeous.

There's a definite difference.

Without makeup or our hair done, we walk out of the suite and head for wherever Atticus is taking us. He briefs us on the way down, saying that we will talk to Daivat first, then President Snow will be waiting somewhere in the garden to converse with us and then we will be escorted out.

As we enter the 'holding' area my fierceness and anger from last night turns to complete terror.

I'm meeting President Snow. As in… our ruler… as in…

"I think I'm going to be sick," a red-headed girl beside me says. On my other side, I hear Dia sigh and spot her roll her eyes. She's not even flinching.

In fact, I notice that the girls going up first—the ones from Districts 1 and 2—aren't nervous at all. They inspect their perfectly well-kept nails, as if this is a normal thing for them. They casually talk to one another. Though, one conversation almost turns violent when someone snaps an insult at another girl. Dia, the red-head and I all flinch back and sink lower into our seats even after the little quarrel is over.

And here I thought Dia was going to be a vicious competitor. When she found out I didn't care about winning, she turned into the nicest girl alive. I wonder if she would have treated me like that if I had said I wanted to win…

"You're Ardaigh, right?" The red-head beside me asks.

Jostled from my thoughts, I answer, "Oh, um, yeah… and you're…?"

I should have paid more attention to the replays.

"Jessabelle," she says. We shake hands before she introduces herself to Dia. I remember her after a few seconds of hard thinking. She's one of the two from District 10.

We talk about the ride here. She tells us about her cows and we tell her about our trees. I guess that's really all people from different districts talk about; their districts specialties. I mean, what else are we going to talk about? The fact that we're coming face-to-face with President Snow not long from now? We avoid that subject completely. By the time her name is called, Dia and I are far more relaxed than before we talked. Maybe mom is right. Talking can be good for your spirit.

"Diamante Buckley!" A woman in a bright green dress and the tallest heels I've ever seen shouts out her name. She gives me a slight smile before walking away, and leaving me all alone.

This is not good. Now, I'm thinking about things again. What will Daivat be like? Is he nice? Will I get to go home? I don't want to die. Will they kill me if he doesn't pick me? I hope not. What about Snow? I don't want to meet him. Whoever said anything about that? There's no reason for me to have to face that man. He makes me sick.

I think I'm going to be sick by the time my name is called. My mind is racing, but I force myself to think straight. Getting up from my seat, I feel everyone's gaze on me. The woman leads me out a door and straight into blinding sunlight. Flinching, I stumble back a bit.

The door slams shut behind me, leaving me blinded and alone in the entrance to a lush, beautiful garden.

Or so I think.

I hear a deep chuckle and look around in confusion.

A male voice says, "Same reaction every time… maybe I should tell them to turn some lights on in there."

I turn my head to the voice at my right and see Daivat emerging from a small pathway. He's dressed in normal attire for a Capitol politician; button up shirt and black pants. His dark blonde hair is perfectly in place and his blue eyes are wide and awake; ready to fluster me.

"The sun is blinding here in the spring," he smiles that dazzling smile and I can't help but turn pink. "Shall we?" He asks, motioning towards the path in front of me.

We begin to walk. He seems amused as he says, "You looked the most stunned out of all of them."

I glance up at him, but don't know what to say. When I don't reply, he responds, "Why are you so shocked you're here?"

I open my mouth, but it seems to go dry. The nerves balling up in my gut won't let me speak. His prescience is too overwhelming. But, I manage to squeak out, "I—I don't know."

"I was told by the evaluator you had that he picked you because of your eyes. I have to say, I think they look more beautiful in person." His voice sends a shiver down my spine but I can't figure out why.

"Thank you," I try to speak louder, but even that only comes out as a whisper.

As I become transfixed on a butterfly fluttering around us as we walk, he says, "I know you don't want to be here."

It catches me off guard, sending my heart into a race. Once again, I don't know what to say, so I remain quiet and he continues.

"But I want you here."

"What?"

Atticus is right. I have a really bad habit of blurting that out at times.

He laughs slightly, "There's something about you that I can't quite put my finger on yet, Ardaigh. But, I know I'll figure out what it is sooner or later."

We stop at a beautiful bush of red roses. He gingerly plucks one off and takes my hand.

"But, for now," he places the stem in my grasp. I feel my cheeks burning with heat after he kisses me on one. I can feel his breath down my neck as he states in a low voice, "You have my attention, Ardaigh."

Shocked and barely able to respond, move or do much of anything, he pushes me by the small of my back towards a path to the right of the bush. My shaking legs make it far enough to see none other than President Snow himself, sitting on a bench underneath a beautiful tree, blooming with pink flowers. I notice two peacekeepers off to the side. He waves his hand and they disappear into the shrubbery.

He pats the bench beside him, "Ah, Ardaigh is it? Please, have a seat."

Trembling, I ease myself down onto the cushioned bench, still clutching the rose in my hands. The overwhelming scent of roses catches my senses. There's another, less pleasant scent that I can't seem to put a name to, but it's definitely not something I would expect to smell in a garden. It has a metallic element to it that makes me not want to breathe. But, I keep my composure and try to ignore it.

I can feel his hard stare on me, so I gather every ounce of courage I have and look up—straight into those cold blue eyes. They aren't like Daivat's. They show no sign of warmth or kindness. What I saw; the twinkle in Daivat's eyes is not there in President Snow's.

He smiles—yes, smiles—and says, "You are aware that your name means 'beautiful rose' in another language, correct?"

I nod, glancing down at the rose in my lap. He continues, "Happens to be my favorite flower—and you, my favorite tribute."

Warmth rushes into my cheeks as I reply, "Thank you."

"Do you know why I simply adore you?" He asks, looking out towards the gurgling fountain just across the pathway.

I look up at him, curious and a bit confused. A small smile plays across his lips as he says, "Because you remind me of my wife."

I can't disguise my shock. I mean, I know he must have had a wife at some point in order to have children, which led to him having Daivat but… I never really considered that he had ever actually loved someone. Could it be that he did marry out of love? Is that so impossible?

"Quiet, soft-spoken," he continues. "A very good listener… The complete opposite of me at the time, actually… I was intrigued by her… in the same way that my grandson is fascinated by you."

Unexpectedly, he turns his head back, locking eyes with me. For a moment, I see glimpse of something; some fleeting look in his eyes. It's the first sign that he actually has emotions. Though, I can't overcome the uneasy feeling.

I notice he's holding a white rose—probably taken from the low branch just behind the bench (when I wasn't paying any attention). He holds it out to me and I take it, gingerly holding it with my red one from Daivat.

"I do hope I see you again, Miss. Fyrn… in fact, I think I already know that I will," he looks to his right and I see a peacekeeper standing there.

I nod slightly and even manage a smile, which he seems to mirror back, in a strange sort of way. I say, "Thank you" and then follow the peacekeeper down another trail and out of the garden. Atticus is waiting for me there.

When I lock eyes with him he smiles. "How did it go?"

"Fine," I whisper, glancing down at my roses. He does the same as we begin our trek back to the suite.

All is relatively calm until we enter the suite and find about a dozen people rushing about. As I stumble backwards, startled by a woman dashing past me with a jar of glitter in her hands, Atticus says, "Stylists. They're here to prep you for the ceremony tonight."

"Ceremony?"

"Why yes," he chuckles, "Daivat is choosing the eleven finalists tonight."

I don't have time to respond to him, though. A very loud and obnoxious man grabs my arm and pulls me away. He forces me into a chair and asks, "How do you feel about the natural look?"

I shrug, not completely knowing what that means. I'm guessing it means less makeup. So, I nod. "Sounds… good."

"Great," he grins, rushing away, his orange suit glimmering in the light as he goes.

Sooooo what do yoyu guys think? :) I'm most likely going to go back and edit this sometime in the near future, but for now I think it's a pretty good chapter. By the way, feel free to give me ideas (I need to think of things for the girls to do besides walking down a runway in a fancy gown).

Keep reading & commenting! It is very much appreciated! 3 - NicolettaKatherine