Gamble of Wits

by FireFlower17

The 'Flower of Panem' or 'Angel of Mercy', Seraphine Reza is the jewel and pride of Panem. One of their most treasured victors in the history of the Hunger Games and a favorite of President Snow. While she smiles, comforts and plays her part every time the games start again, in her mind, her own game never ended. She keeps her enemies close and plays the part of the perfect victor.

64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64: The Last Parade

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"Chin up." Harp lifted Sera's head towards Mica and gently closed her eyelids. "Can I say something?"

Mica tapped his brush on the side of the palette and picked a frosty lilac shade, gliding it all over her lids. Eos ran around in the background, her heels almost scratching the metal floor with how she dragged her feet on them. She grumbled complaints under her breath that were loud enough for the entire room to hear. Harp would add to her complaints every so often.

"You're going to say it anyway." Sera replied, her words slurring.

With a swift hand, Mica moved to prop Sera's head up. "I know you're tired, we all are but please don't fall asleep." He said tiredly, resisting the urge to rub his own eyes with his gloved hands.

"I'm trying." Sera opened her bloodshot eyes, wincing at her reflection. Her face was pallid, devoid of all-natural color. Only Mica's powder and cream makeup gave the illusion of her being alive.

Resisting the urge to scowl was hard work, it was even harder to keep herself awake. Her nightmares had started to return since the Quell had been announced and Eugene's presence became more frequent with the occasional apparitions of Gaius, Amethyst, and sometimes Jenny.

The only time she found reprieve was when she busied herself talking about the rebellion with Beetee and Zephyr or when she was with Finnick.

But the last time she'd seen Finnick was when they had gotten off the train. That was a day or two ago. He'd been ushered away by his team and she had to lead her team away in two separate cars to the Training Center.

She hadn't seen him since then. Unless she counted the countless posters of his she'd seen in the faint distance dotted around the streets of the Capitol whenever she looked out from the windows of Five's floor.

"What did you want to say, Harp?" Sera asked.

Harp chirped. "I'm glad…it's not you going back."

"Harp." Mica shook his head along with the brush in his hand. "You can't say that."

Eos sighed. "She's right." She brought forward a lilac stiff silken dress that almost looked white at first glance, with blooming petunias losing their petals that scattered across the short dress. "It's awful to say it out loud but I'm—we're glad you're not going back. Harp nearly bawled her eyes off when she heard your name being called. Let's not even talk about Emilia…"

"Emilia screamed." Mica added and Sera nodded. Likely for her former escort to scream. She was more emotional than Eos and the rest of her team.

"Very overdramatic, that one."

Pulling Sera's head back, Harp chirped. "I would've screamed too if Emilia didn't because knowing you—you'd be grabbing a knife…it's bad for you to touch knives."

"A knife." Echoed Mica and eyed Eos for an answer.

"Oh, that—" Eos started with a sigh and tilted her head towards Sera.

Even after all the years had passed, Eos and Harp had never forgotten or forgiven her for cutting her hair short without a warning. She still remembered their reactions and Rietta's like it was yesterday. Eos had lost her cool for once and screamed at the sight. While Harp had dropped to the floor.

"Are we seriously bringing that up again?" Sera was exasperated just thinking about the past. "You two need to get over it."

"Hmm. Sure, we will." Eos replied. "When you tell us how you managed to use a damn bread knife of all things to cut your hair."

"Like that's hard?"

"Yes!" Harp and Eos screamed. Mica recoiled at the sounds of their voices, sending a sympathetic look to Sera and a pat on her shoulders. "You ruined the looks I planned for you." Eos went on, pacing around the room, grabbing Sera's shoes. "Still, a bread knife." She mumbled under her breath.

"I'm sure there wouldn't have been another incident…" Mica tried.

"I wouldn't hold my breath." Eos rolled her eyes and tapped the side of Sera's head. "Do something about her eyes. It's too red." She pulled away. "I do feel sorry for Leora."

Mica gently lifted her head with a small eyedropper in his other hand filled halfway through. She widened her eyes and stared at the ceiling blankly, avoiding the glass end of the dropper. He squeezed the dropper twice, letting the liquid fall.

Cold drops of the unknown liquid fell into her eye and she let an involuntary shiver run through her. She shut her eyes, rolling them underneath her lids and spreading the water all over.

Mica tapped her eyes once and she opened them. The redness in her eyes had disappeared, taking any and all signs of tiredness along with it.

"If it's not Leora, it'll be someone else—someone younger—someone older—someone else." Harp squeaked out, letting Sera's hair fall. "And that's…just how the wheel turns."

Unsurprisingly, she was right. If not her or Leora, then it would be another—maybe someone younger and innocent.

Silence fell. Sera stared at her reflection in the mirror while Harp applied finishing touches to her hair, pinning it with a sharp long silvery pin with silver snapdragons on the end.

"It's an early birthday present." Eos had momentarily broken the silence to say.

The pin was beautiful and exceptionally sharp, much sharper than her usual hairpin. If anything, it reminded Sera too much of a thin blade. Thin enough to coat in poison.

But Harp's words played on her mind. She couldn't move on from it. Plutarch had spared twenty-four children. It was fair for them if she did think about it, his method was much kinder to the districts than she'd ever give him credit for.

Only the victors would suffer but at least, they knew what suffering was. Those twenty-four children who were spared didn't.

"...It wasn't always like that," Mica said quietly, so quiet that Sera almost missed his words. "It shouldn't be like that at all."

Eos had immediately caught it. She shook her head and tried to brush it aside. She moved on to help Sera change into her dress when she thought everyone had moved on.

Sera hadn't moved on. "What do you mean by that?"

Awkwardly, Mica turned to Eos and Harp. The latter of whom seemed awfully nervous and jittery, more than usual.

He crept close to Sera and said quietly. "...People aren't happy about this one."

People weren't happy with the games.

Nothing new. Sera had seen it at the train station when they got off. There was an unmistakable air of melancholy infecting the Capitolites. They didn't gather around a lot of victors like rabid dogs, instead, they kept their distance and some had even burst into tears when Finnick, Cashmere, Cecelia, and Gloss had greeted them.

The Capitol was strangely mourning the victors.

A little out of the ordinary, sure. But Sera was convinced that despite the sadness they felt, nothing would be done by them to change it. Nothing she was convinced of yet anyway.

"Wasn't that obvious—no one is happy," Sera said coolly. "But that's just the way things are. Everyone will move on soon enough and focus on the games."

"I don't think so." Mica moved to put away his tools and equipment, turning his back to her. "There's been lots of protests going on lately."

"Mica!" Harp hissed out and looked around hawkishly before rushing to the door, checking if it was closed. Once she was done, she fluttered back to Mica's side in silence.

Sera echoed. "Protests?" As she tilted her head to the side, she caught a glimpse of squeamish Eos who didn't want to take part in the conversation at all.

"Not the first time, we've had these protests in the past," Eos said in a somber tone, trying to end the conversation quickly. "It'll pass like it always does."

"I don't think so," Mica said. "these ones are nothing like the past ones. I heard from a friend that they shut down the schools including the Academy and the University. No classes or anything. All the buildings have been shut, and terms been ended early too. Some of the schools near Alea couldn't even afford to open this year."

"Why not?" Sera pushed and Eos squealed in silence even more.

"Food and electricity prices have gone up," Mica replied simply. "and those who were looking forward to the games, well…"

They couldn't look forward to the game at all, knowing their favorites were going back in. Maybe Plutarch had played it well. He did the Capitolites better than Sera ever did. If she looked past her betrayal over her forced ignorance then she could see his moves much more clearly.

And damned he be, Plutarch did make a great move.

"It's disappointing?" Sera offered with a small smile. "Everyone was promised that winning meant no other games. Promises were broken."

"The last promise that was unbroken…broke." Harp said softly.

Made sense why the Capitolites were so angry this time around. The victors and Quell were the straws that broke the camel's back. They, like the rest of Panem, were at their limit.

Clearing his throat, Mica changed the topic before it became any heavier. "Eos," He called to her stylist who glided over to him. "Lilac number?" He pointed to the dress on Sera's form. "What happened to the tulip yellow one?"

Eos' face twisted into annoyance. "Nope. We are not doing yellow chiffon or black and red petal-like looks anymore. They look too much like Cinna's works. We're not doing anything like Cinna."

"Cinna?" Sera asked.

"District 12 stylist." Mica and Eos answered at the same time. "You know the one in charge of the girl on fire looks." Eos carried on with a hint of bitterness leaking into her voice. "Adorable stuff—his designs—adorable but we're not taking notes from him. We can't have your image tainted by Katniss Everdeen's."

"Cinna did take some inspiration from your past looks." Mica pointed out.

Eos icy gaze fell on him and he clamped his mouth shut. "I know." She spat out. "Though it's mostly Cygnus' stuff. But I won't have him take any more inspiration from me or have anyone compare us—it's too risky."

"Risky." Harp chirped, repairing Eos' words. "Nobody wants another girl on fire. Everyone wants to light themselves on fire." She sang in a broken tune, giggling to herself.

Sera nodded along, not knowing what to say. Harp always was a strange one.

"I take it the higher-ups aren't too pleased with him?" Sera asked airily.

Harp shushed her and looked around, saying. "Yes." Eos nodded at Harp's single word.

Made sense that Cinna the District 12's stylist had been singled out. He had single-handedly revived interest in Twelve even before Katniss had stepped into the arena. His work was a statement that Snow hadn't missed.

What surprised Sera was how cautious Eos was being. Sera had thought that like Emilia, Eos would be eager to rebel but instead, she was making herself small and pushing the rest of Sera's team behind the curtains.

Her brother had died for rebelling.

A small voice in the back of her mind whispered and she froze. Oh. Right. Eos' brother. Emilia's husband. She'd heard about him in passing; he'd passed away during the infamous Capitol riots that she had only heard of here and there.

"Eos." Strangely Sera could hear Ovid's voice.

Sharing a look with Eos, Sera turned around to see Ovid at the door. He rushed inside with a delicate urgency, closing the door behind him and gasping for air as he did so. Ovid was not supposed to be there.

"Eos." He panted. "...Tell Mathias to quit." He rushed towards Eos and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"What? Mathias? Ovid? What are you doing here?" Eos sputtered out in quick succession. Her eyes wide in fear. "You…should be helping Julian Wells get ready for the games."

Ovid licked his dark green lips and shook his head. Unconsciously, Eos mimicked him. "I quit."

"You quit." Sera repeated.

Was that even possible? Eos had stepped down before reaping had taken place. She'd never heard of a stylist quitting right before the games had even started.

But looking at Eos, it seemed she didn't think it was possible either.

"You quit." She echoed for the second time after Sera. "Why—how—I don't understand. Why would you quit?"

Ovid shook his head. "I can't…I can't tell you but you need to tell your nephew to quit as well. If he's smart then he'd step down as District 2's stylist."

"Are you trying to sabotage us?"

Turning away from Eos, he let out a frustrated breath. He screamed at Harp and Mica to get out and pleaded with Sera to go outside. No one moved. Sera thought about leaving but Eos held onto her arm tightly.

"Eos…Merchant." He said her name with desperation. "Please…I'm begging you to tell your nephew to step down."

"And why would she do that?" Emilia asked, stepping inside the room with a wild look. "We don't need to listen to a thing you're saying." She said. "Sera, if you're done, we should go."

Sera made a move to leave, slowing her steps to linger. Whatever Ovid had said—had her interest.

"Please, Emilia." Ovid almost sobbed. "I'm begging you…and Eos. Listen to me." He cried out, pulling at his long azure locks that looked the messiest she'd ever seen. "This is me trying to make up for what I did back then."

Time seemed to have stopped for Emilia and Eos. The two women shared a strange look before Emilia covered her mouth and collapsed over the dressing table. Eos stood rooted where she stood. Her grip on Sera had loosened and she'd let go.

Sera, Harp, and Mica slowly backed off to give the trio space albeit reluctantly on Sera's part. She did want to know what Ovid was talking about. But Emilia and Eos wouldn't like that. They needed space. The two looked like they'd gone into mourning when Ovid spoke to them.

At least, Sera had caught something as she was leaving. 'Cinna'. The name of District 12's stylist. She heard it from Ovid's mouth. That was all she needed to know that Cinna wasn't just a harmless stylist.

She pitied Katniss even more. Poor girl didn't even know that she was being shaped into the perfect pawn, a symbol for a rebellion from the Head Gamemaker, her stylists to her future allies to her closest confidantes.

Everything in her life was being calculated the minute she volunteered. She didn't even know. And all she wanted was to go back to her sister.

Guilt bloomed in her chest when she saw Katniss wandering around and waiting, already dressed for the chariot parade. Her stylist had done his magic again. She looked flawless but Sera could tell from her small movements that resembled a wild fawn, Katniss Everdeen was nervous.

"Sera." Katniss was the one who approached her. "It's you isn't it?"

Pretending would've been an easier way to alleviate her guilt and silence Eugene's stupid voice in her head. But that wouldn't do her any good. Regardless of what she thought of Plutarch's plans or what she felt, the rebellion was already in full motion. Katniss was just a needed casualty.

She painted a smile on her face and greeted Katniss like they were old friends. "Been a while, hasn't it, Katniss?"

Katniss nodded, a relieved smile blossomed on her face as she let out a breath. "It has." She said. "I never got to thank you—"

"You don't have to." Sera cut her off. "I just said what needed to be said. It's just…a shame that you're going back so soon. You should've had another year or two or maybe a lifetime after the things they put you through." She paused and looked around subtly. "I really shouldn't be saying that—never know who's listening."

"Is anyone listening?"

"Who knows?" Sera said cryptically. "I like your outfit—it's very…interesting."

Katniss looked down at herself and back up. She didn't look that comfortable in the parade outfit or any of the clothes she wore in the Capitol. It was like she was wearing someone else's skin. Sera didn't dare say that out loud even though Katniss might've agreed with her.

"Cinna—my stylist picked it." She replied awkwardly.

The black crown on her head looked heavy as she moved her head. Her deceptively heavy crown glares at Sera, reflecting her face in its black metal surface. If her stylist was trying to make Katniss appear threatening, he'd done a great job.

"That looks heavy." Sera joked or tried to.

Katniss smiled softly at her attempt and said. "I know it looks the part but it's not." She looked away for a moment distracted, her mind was elsewhere. "I'm surprised…" She trailed off. "You're a mentor, aren't you?"

"Well, I'm not a returning tribute." She replied sarcastically and Katniss turned a little pink. "You seem almost disappointed."

"No, I—"

"You are, aren't you?"

"I'm sure—"

"I get it." Sera almost whispered. "I understand."

Katniss looked up in surprise, not expecting Sera to relate but Sera did honestly understand her. She'd be selfish too if she was in Katniss' place and hoped that someone she knew would also join her.

"It's not easy to return to the arena after coming out." Sera continued. "You and Peeta had barely any time as victors. You two don't even know anyone. I'm probably the only one you knew—wasn't I?" Katniss nodded. "But I'm sure you'll manage on your own. A word of advice."

"I can use all the advice I can get."

Sera patted her arm. "Maybe I've said this before but your partner is the biggest ally you can have. From what I've seen, he's a better ally than I'd ever be, and believe me, I'd probably only be a dead weight for you."

"I don't think so. You were good with…plants and knives."

Sera smiled, almost laughing. Katniss had seen her games but not enough to know the whole story. No one ever did. The unfortunate benefits of having one of the longest Hunger Games in history.

"Ah, I'm flattered but my games were seven years ago. Seven years is a long time when you're a victor like me—sick and a step away from falling to your death. I'm not as…healthy as I used to be. And unlike some of them—" She motioned discreetly towards the other victors. "I haven't been keeping up with my skills so trust me when I say this I would've been a terrible ally. You're better off with your partner—Peeta is your greatest ally but if you want I can name a few who'd make good allies too."

"Can you?" Katniss eagerly. "I mean, if it's not too much trouble." She added, a little wary. Of course, Sera's words were too good to be true. "A little…hint or advice won't hurt."

"I'd recommend Beetee, Finnick, Cecelia, Seeder, Chaff, Jet, and maybe Johanna but that's…" She trailed off, almost forgetting that she was talking to Katniss, not a friend. "Well, it depends on you or Peeta."

"Can you repeat that? The horses—"

Loud obnoxious crunching interrupted Katniss and Sera turned her head to the side to see none other than Finnick. He grinned when he noticed her attention on him, waving at her with a sugar cube in his hand. She looked away, feigning annoyance.

"Hello, Katniss," He said like they were longtime friends. "And Sera-phine."

A sense of calm washed over her when she saw Finnick, the opposite of whatever Katniss felt at that moment. The poor girl moved to the side, closer to Sera. She turned a shade of red seeing how Finnick was dressed and how close he was to her.

"Hello, Finnick," Katniss greeted back, trying hard not to squirm under his gaze.

Sera shook her head. He was dressed—well, half-dressed in what seemed like a golden net that barely left anything to the imagination. She bit the bottom of her lips and turned away, trying hard not to laugh at his appearance.

"Anyone want a sugar cube?" He offered his hand out with sugar cubes piled high. It took Sera a minute to recover after seeing Finnick's ridiculous outfit he had to raise his voice to get her attention.

"No," Katniss said. "I'd love to borrow your outfit though."

"Looks like Four's having a fabric shortage." Sera added and Katniss smiled in thanks.

"Unfortunately," He walked towards Sera and she had to look over her shoulder, signaling him to step back. They were in public. "Twelve's taken it all." He said instead, looking at Katniss. "You're absolutely terrifying me in that getup, don't you think so Sera-phine?"

"Seraphine." Sera rolled her eyes. "And I don't." She replied, acting like she was exasperated by his mere presence and that seemed to amuse him. "I think she looks great."

"I personally preferred pretty little-girl dresses."

"I outgrew them." Katniss cut in, glancing back and forth between Sera and Finnick with a raised brow. She could sense the tension between the two and shifted in her spot, uncomfortably being caught in the middle.

Sera folded her arms around herself and stared judgmentally at Finnick. "Is that horse food?"

She knew he had a sweet tooth but he wasn't being serious now, was he? He couldn't be offering Katniss and her the food they had on hand for the horses. Well, it was just like him to do so.

Finnick's lips curled up into a grin. His eyes glistened like the sea.

And Sera knew then, just what he was trying to do. She shook her head in disapproval but he paid her no mind, carrying on.

"Who cares? They've got years to eat sugar." He replied, popping a single sugar cube into his mouth. "Whereas we…don't." He turned to Sera. "Well, Sera-phine does. But you see something sweet," He rolled the half-melted sugar cube between his tongue. "You grab it."

She laughed. "That's an adorable way to tell the world that Four's not feeding their victors either."

"Are you offering, Seraphine? Because," He stepped closer to Sera while Katniss backed away, giving them space. "You know I have a sweet tooth."

"That's not a good thing." Sera countered. "Too much of something is bad for you."

"A shame I never had too much of something." Finnick bit his lips and turned his head to pop another sugar cube into his mouth. "You sure you're not terrified of Katniss?" He said, taking the collar of Katniss' outfit and running it between his fingers.

Sera giggled coyly and swiftly swatted his hands away. "Thank you for your concern, Finnick but I'm perfectly fine. I think Katniss looks great," She looked up and down. "You on the other hand…"

"And you don't look too—" Sera cut him off with a single look, unmissed by Katniss. "It's a shame about the whole Quell thing." He swiftly changed the topic and looked away, a light dusting of red coating his face. "Some of us having to go back in."

"It's tragic. Katniss and Peeta didn't even get to spend time as a true victor."

"That's what you're focusing on." He clicked his tongue in disappointment. "See this is the problem with her—she's too—"

"Too what?" Katniss echoed and Sera motioned him to carry on.

He swallowed his words with remnants of the sugar cube in his mouth. "Formal. That's a nice way of putting it. She's too formal, too uptight." He popped another sugar cube into his mouth and carried on. "What I really wanted to say was that the Quell is tragic, right?" Sera nodded and he spoke to Katniss. "You could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted"

"Not everyone wants money, Finnick."

"I don't like jewels," Katniss said plainly, nodding at Sera's words. "and I have more money than I need. What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Finnick?"

"Not much. Bought a few jewels here and there." He smiled. "Other than that, I haven't dealt in anything as common as money for years."

Sera rolled her eyes and looked away, raising her hand to look at the time instead. "Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company?" I heard Katniss ask.

"With secrets," Finnick replied, looking at Sera and making sure to keep his distance from Katniss this time. "What about you, girl on fire? Do you have any secrets worth my time?"

Predictably, Katniss blushed and Sera shook her head at the scene in disapproval. She almost felt sorry for Katniss, knowing what it was like to be on the receiving end of his teasing.

It almost reminded her when they first met. He was much angrier and less experienced then than now but it was the same tricks he'd use to get under her skin.

The only difference between Sera and Katniss was that Sera had seen right through him. She was more annoyed than flattered at his attention. She even went out of her way to avoid him.

She had too much to do to worry about Finnick Odair back then.

"No, I'm an open book," She barely heard Katniss whisper. "Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself."

Finnick hadn't moved his gaze away from Sera's when she focused on Katniss and Finnick again. "Unfortunately, I think that's true." He said sympathetically and Sera felt like she'd been stabbed by his words.

She looked away, avoiding the overflowing guilt and Eugene's mad voice screaming at her. She forced herself to smile and laugh, hoping it sounded natural, not rehearsed like it was. "If it makes you feel any better, Katniss," Katniss looked at Sera. "He's an open book too."

"Only to you." Finnick replied easily with a chuckle and coy smile. "Most people can't even open me up."

"What about Seraphine?" Katniss asked, looking at both Sera and Finnick. "Are you an open book too?" Could she trust her? Her eyes pleaded and Sera's smile hurt.

"She sure is," Finnick answered for her. "you just have to read the pages very carefully and a couple of dozen times to get it."

"That's why you're the only one who gets me." Sera said with sarcasm dripping from her words. "You spend more time reading me than actually doing something worthwhile."

"You know me too well. You can tell too, can't you Katniss? Sera-phine knows me the best." If he was standing right next to Sera, she could predict he'd brush her arm or accidentally lean too close to touch. "Peeta is coming. Sorry, you had to cancel your wedding." He said and Sera swallowed. "You coming, Sera-phine, or will you be accompanying the lovebirds?"

"I think I'm gonna stay." Sera wanted to see Peeta up close, a word or two before she left and made her way back.

Finnick shrugged, not putting up a fight or causing a scene. Accidentally, he collided with Sera, apologizing for his 'clumsiness' as his arms slid around her waist but he'd already pulled away before she could even throw a word or two back at him. He had sauntered off, finishing his sugar cubes as he left.

"He's like a tsunami, isn't he?" Sera joked. "A storm."

"He seems…nice," Katniss replied and Sera nodded, watching her try to ward off the red that had dyed her face. "A little too close and personal but he seemed nice." She paused, hesitant about something. "You two…get along well."

Sera changed the subject quickly. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about the wedding." She knew Katniss didn't even want to hear a thing about it. "I didn't think you wanted to be reminded about it."

Finnick had only mentioned it to her to check her reaction. Like he wanted, Katniss didn't disappoint. The girl on fire couldn't hide her thoughts from leaking. That would be a problem in the future. Sera had to make a note not to let Katniss know anything too sensitive.

"Thank you." Katniss said. "It's…a tough time."

"I can only imagine." She bowed her head in greeting when she saw Peeta approach. "I'm Seraphine Reza from District 5, victor of the 68th Games."

Peeta offered his hand and Sera was a little taken aback, not expecting it. He seemed well-mannered and strong when she took his hand, giving it a soft squeeze before letting it drop. Those muscles on his arms weren't for display. He was strong.

"We've met." Peeta replied with a confident smile but his eyes didn't reflect that. He nervously glanced at Katniss, stepping forward almost protectively between her and Sera. "The crowning ceremony."

"But we've never spoken, have we?" Sera smiled cryptically. Peeta shifted in his spot uncomfortably as he tried to read her hollow silvery gaze. "I'm so sorry that you two are going back—barely even victors and they're already forcing you two back."

"Right." Peeta nodded. "We had to cancel our wedding and everything."

"The wedding." Sera echoed. "I know how hard that is. Planning it all is a hassle and then you two had to cancel it, a shame all around."

Peeta paused. "You're married?!" He asked, surprised and almost scandalized at the thought of a real secret wedding. He was afraid she'd see right through his farce and she did.

She giggled. "Not quite." She answered coyly and met Finnick's gaze across the tracks. "I, um, I helped my sister plan her wedding to her husband, my mentor—Huxley Foret." She pointed to Huxley who'd just come out with Leora and Wells by his side.

"Oh," Peeta stepped back, laughing nervously but his nervousness had a touch of joy in it. "Congratulations. I didn't know."

"Not many did." Huxley was an unpopular victor. Not infamous or anything. He was just there, quiet and not as entertaining as the rest. No one bothered with his life even after he'd joined Sera's family. "You'd have to ask Huxley to tell you that it was a very quiet affair. They've been married for a few years now with two kids."

"Two kids." Peeta echoed and spared a glance at a silent Katniss. "Your mentor—your brother-in-law must've been really happy."

"Overjoyed and," Her smile crumbled. "It's a shame they're taking that away from you two."

"Yeah, a real shame." Peeta echoed. "You sound almost sorry." He accidentally blurted out and then tried to take it back with a swift apology. He'd almost forgotten that Sera wasn't a friend. She wasn't an enemy either but she was a stranger.

"I feel a little sorry." Sera admitted. "Leora—one of District 5's victors took my place. I know it's not as honorable going back as most people say it is so I'm sorry. I feel like I almost cheated."

For a split second, both victors of Twelve froze. Peeta let out a soft awkward laugh and shared another look with Katniss. "You almost sound like you blame yourself." He said.

"Do I? I see why you'd think that but I just feel bad."

"Not like you had anything to do with us going back." Katniss stared at Sera with a cautious gaze, studying her.

The two victors of Twelve were much deadlier together than separate. She made a note to be on her guard whenever she spoke to them.

"You didn't even know—none of us did…" A sliver of suspicion was on her tongue like she almost knew of Sera's reputation among the Capitol and the victors as Snow's flower.

"No," Sera confirmed. "None of us knew. You can imagine how chaotic it would be if we did know." She leaned close, looking to the side. "I'll just say that the chaos during your games would amount to nothing to this Quell if we did know—well then again, they'll still raise hell anyway, doesn't matter if they knew or not. Don't you two agree?"

"It's the Hunger Games, they're known for being unpredictable." Peeta answered for Katniss and him.

Katniss carried on where he'd left off. "No one knows what they're going to get until they're in the area."

Two hollow answers, devoid of anything of substance. They were playing it smart. Sera found it funny, she could see right through Katniss with ease. Peeta was a little tricky but she could read him too. He didn't trust her at all.

She laughed. "You two should try to relax a little. Anyone passing by would think you were talking to old Caesar," She pretended to whisper playfully. "Don't tell him I said that. He's a little sensitive about his age."

"Sounds like you're close to him."

"I had the privilege of being around him more than I'd like, so I know a few things or two." She said. "We're not really close." She insisted. "I'm just…good with people."

"I have no doubt about that." Peeta stated and Sera held back the urge to laugh again.

She was enjoying the little exchange and wished Finnick was back to see this. He'd enjoy Peeta, his little attempts to protect Katniss, and his way with words. Finnick would like that.

"Ah, it's an unfortunate gift." She remarked. It was a curse for someone who didn't like talking to people much. "That being said, I do wish you two well and hope to see you on the other side. Who knows maybe the odds will be in your favor again and maybe," She crept closer to Peeta until she stood close enough for him to touch as she leaned closer and whispered. "Maybe we'll get more victors than last year. Wouldn't that be sweet?"

Blank-faced Peeta stared back at Sera, wondering if she was mocking his and Katniss' win or if she was being genuinely kind. A pale shade of pink bloomed on his cheeks at the sudden closeness. Katniss poked the insides of her cheek in annoyance.

Well, at least she did care. Poor Peeta didn't need to worry for long about his unrequited love. If only Peeta had noticed the little shift in Katniss.

He had missed the subtle flash of jealousy on Katniss' face. He was far too busy trying to figure Sera out. He couldn't tell no matter how hard he studied Sera what she was thinking. Unlike Katniss, Sera didn't give any of her thoughts or emotions away. They were all locked up behind a thin veneer of a painted mauve smile.

"Wha—"

Sera cut Peeta off before he'd even managed to finish. "Your crown's slipping."

Carefully, she approached Katniss and pushed up the deceptively light black metal crown. She adjusted the crown with light movements, backing off with an amiable grace.

Katniss patted her crown and lifted her head. "Is it still slipping?"

"No," Sera replied. "it's fine and it looks good on you…you both look good, and it was nice to meet you both. A shame we had to meet under these circumstances but who knows maybe when the storm blows over, we'll see each other on the other side in the middle of all the wreck."

She turned around and strutted away to join Huxley. Zephyr didn't join them. He'd been allowed back into the Citadel, unlike the other victors whom the Capitol allowed to work for them. They never intended to get rid of him just yet. That only fueled her annoyance at being reaped.

Why was her name called out?

She had done everything and more what Plutarch and Snow had asked of her. Yet both had been blindsided. She knew the bitterness she felt wouldn't go away even if she rationalized Plutarch's plans and she hated how emotional she'd become. This wasn't like her at all.

"What was that about?" Huxley asked, sparing a careful glance towards the young victors of Twelve. "You should be avoiding them at all costs, not trying to befriend them, Sera."

Absentmindedly, Sera nodded along. She let out a sigh and gave out a simple reply that she knew would appease Huxley. But he refused to move along. He stood in her way, ignoring Wells and Leora's inquisitive glances.

Huxley's focus was solely on Sera. To him, she was still the same tribute he'd mentored seven years ago. The same Sera who'd left the arena and joined him with dried tears on her face and dried poisonous blood staining her hands as she stared down at the floor, refusing to meet anyone's gaze until she'd been washed clean of Gaius' blood.

"Seraphine," Her head moved to the side. "You're being incredibly reckless. I need you to tell me what's going on."

"Everything's fine." She insisted and reached for one of the horses that would pull Leora and Well's chariot. She'd never approached them in the past but then again, she'd never done a lot of things either. "You worry too much—if I didn't know any better I'd think I was talking to Lissa."

"Your sister's just worried, like me." He tried to pull her hand away in fear of the horse biting her.

"Everyone's worried about me except me."

"Just like you to not care about yourself. You've always been like that."

One of the horses, a dark brown one with a single braided silver mane lowered its head after nudging its pale-furred companion. Sera reached out and patted it gently, smiling as she did so.

"You both worry too damn much." She murmured, running her fingers through the horse's mane. "Everything is fine."

"I don't think so." He grabbed a bunch of sugar cubes nearby and fed one to the horse Sera was petting. "There's something going on, isn't it?" He whispered, close to her ears while feeding the horse. "You didn't think I noticed, did you? I see the way everyone's been looking at those two," He subtly motioned towards Twelve's entourage where Katniss and Peeta were in the center of. "And the way some have been circling them, like vultures. No, not vultures—vultures aren't nearly anxious or giddy enough to be like that."

"You're talking nonsense now."

"Am I?" He craned his head to cover her field of vision. "I saw how you and Finnick were studying that girl. I saw it, Sera, and don't say I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary—even back at the train, I noticed what you, Zephyr, and Beetee did. You three are doing something, aren't you?"

Sighing, she let go of the horse. It let out a small cry of protest at the sudden lack of affection but she paid it no mind. It had done its job at distracting her, a poor job, and now she had to face Huxley whether she liked it or not.

If it was up to her, she'd keep the charade going. She would hide her ugly acts from her family for the rest of her remaining life. Huxley too. The last thing she wanted was for them to know how much blood she had on her hand, the things she'd done to keep her head above water, or even the rebellion she'd been plotting with Plutarch.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a smart option to keep Huxley of all people in the dark. If anything happened to her, he could stand by her—their family.

Yes, that was the smart thing to do. Tell Huxley enough so he could at least look after their family.

She was about to tell him then she stopped. They weren't alone, surrounded by past victors, mentors, Capitol staff, and escorts alike. She turned her wrist over and checked the time—not that long until the parade started.

Telling Huxley the partial truth would have to wait. Instead, she swiftly changed the subject, silently promising him that the conversation wasn't over yet.

Thankfully, she did it just in time as Creon appeared, sluggishly dragging himself over to them alongside a very annoyed Leora and flushed face Wells.

"You're drunk, aren't you, Wells?" Huxley sighed as he shook his head disapprovingly. "Honestly, I asked you for a week to stay sober."

"I am…sober." Wells slurred out. "I just had a little bit of wine."

"Uh-huh," Huxley shared a look with Sera. "How little are we talking about?"

Wells laughed, turning away with a faint guilt on his face. "I don't know…" He blew out some air and patted Creon's shoulder, startling him. "A bottle or two. It's just some good-quality Capitol wine. You're acting like I'm downing bottles of whisky or vodka." He made a face and shuddered. "Not vodka—that tastes awful."

"You still didn't listen to me."

"Hey," Wells clicked his fingers in Huxley's face. "I'm doing much better than Chaff."

So he was with Chaff. Sera folded her arms around herself and shook her head. "He was drinking with Chaff."

"How'd you know that?"

"Because you mentioned him, Wells." Leora pointed out with a tired breath. "No one's dumb enough to ignore that."

"I was hoping you all were," He took back his hand and shoved them into his strange mosaic pants. "Fine, I drank with Chaff but I am sober enough to not embarrass myself or Lee."

Leora shrugged. "I don't care if you embarrass us." She said with a sickly sweet smile, dripping with sarcasm. "In fact, I hope you do embarrass us."

Creon's face twisted into a frown. He rubbed his forehead between his fingers and kept repeatedly sighing. "Leora, can we please be nice for one day—these parades are first introductions and could help you get sponsors."

"We don't need introductions." She pointed out.

"B-but what if they forgot about you?"

She shrugged again. "I sure hope they did." She said. "I don't need a sponsor or," She turned to Sera. "allies. I don't need anything from anyone."

Sera clicked her tongue. "Creon, do you mind getting Mabel over here for some last-minute…touches."

"I'll get Ovid too." He said and turned around to leave.

"Don't bother." Wells said as Creon was leaving. "He quit."

Abruptly, Creon stopped. He stumbled a little on air and grabbed hold of Huxley's arm to steady himself. Huxley helped him stand and ripped his arm off of Creon's grip, cursing the silly escort in his mind.

"W-what do you mean he quit?" Creon was flabbergasted and laughed, thinking it was a stupid joke from a tipsy Wells. But no one laughed. "He quit?" He repeated and pursed his lips before covering his mouth. "Oh dear, this isn't good. We're a stylist short."

"Just get Mabel." Leora almost yelled out.

Creon ignored her. "Seraphine, do you mind if I—we borrow Eos and your personal for this game?"

"Yes." Sera answered immediately. Eos had made it clear that she'd retired and besides, it wasn't her decision to make. She couldn't lend Eos without even asking her. "Just get Mabel like I asked you to, hmm?"

He let out a shaky breath and turned away, taking out his small notebook as he did so. He kept writing something down while gnawing at the bottom of his lips. It was a wonder how his lips weren't chapped all the time or even in one piece.

"Now that he's gone," Leora didn't waste any time. "What the hell are you thinking, Seraphine?"

Unbothered by Leora's outburst, Sera turned her head to her. "What do you mean? What am I thinking? I've been doing what you asked me to do."

"I don't recall asking for any alliances let alone one with Twelve of all districts." She hissed out, dangerously close to Sera with her hands wrapped around Sera's gloved wrists. "I don't need allies or sponsors, I making it clear for the third time. I don't need any help."

Sera wrenched her hands off of her and sighed. "I wasn't making an alliance, she—" She looked towards Katniss. "Came up to me. We chatted and that's all that happened—no alliances, at least not for you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I gave her a few pointers," Sera said. "Because, unlike some people, she and her partner actually want to come back."

"Yeah, well," Leora swallowed, her eyes turned moist and she rubbed the corners before continuing. "Some people actually have something to return to. I'm not one of them." Wells looked down to the ground and kicked the dirt underneath, Huxley looked away and Sera let out a tired breath.

Leora's family was something no one liked to talk about. Sera barely even knew Leora had a family and for the longest time, she'd thought the older victor was an orphan when she became a victor. She'd only seen a few footage of Leora's grandfather during the recaps at the reaping and during the interviews with the family.

He never appeared again after Leora won. She could only guess that he'd passed away or the Capitol had done something to him. Still, seeing him so old and somehow healthy in those footage. District 5 hardly had any elders. Most from the Slog died from overwork or hunger and those from the Hollow or Lux that did make it to a ripe old age avoided going out, burying themselves in their homes until it was time for reaping or a victor's tour stop and they never spoke to anyone who wasn't family.

Just like that stories from the past in Five died out along with the old. Leora's grandfather was no exception for an elderly man from the upper Hollow.

"I'm sorry." Sera rubbed her arm in an attempt to comfort her. "But that's all I did. I didn't give her your or Wells' names for an alliance. I listened, didn't I?"

Leora nodded, backing away. "Somehow, I don't think that's all you did." She whispered and Sera smiled.

"Nothing that'll get in the way of what you want. Just," She looked around. "Do me and Hux a favor, don't make it so obvious."

She laughed. "So I shouldn't just step off the podium right before the countdown ends."

"Please don't." Huxley was at his wits end with Leora and Wells. "Don't make it so obvious."

"Bloodbath it is." Leora said, nodding herself and Huxley sighed.

Wells had stayed silent, not meeting Leora's gaze. He didn't like the way she talked about her death so easily.

"But can you do me a single favor?" Sera asked and Wells' turned his attention back. "Make your death count at least. It'd be a waste to just die without spite."

"Oh you meant what you said on the train, didn't you?" Sera shrugged and Leora cackled. "Don't you worry. I'll make every second here and in the arena count—I'll keep it under the covers too, would that make you happy?"

"Does it matter if I'm happy?" She countered. "We just don't need any more victors. Let them," She turned her head towards Katniss and Peeta. "be the last of us."

The older victor paused in her steps to get into the chariot despite her stylist not even doing a final check. Mabel was running late—no doubt picking up pieces of Ovid's mess. Leora's lips curled up into a small grin and her eyes found themselves landing on the pair of star-crossed lovers.

Those two should be the last ever victors. Even Wells found himself agreeing with Sera but he didn't voice his thoughts out, getting up on the chariot. He held his hand out for Leora who took it, climbing on without any more complaints. Then they were off with much fanfare and a procession of trumpets announcing the start of the parade just as Mabel and Creon ran in.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Was all Huxley said as he returned to his sculpture-like state of being.

Stepping back, she took in the first and last ever chariot parade of victors turned back to tributes. Glimpses of their younger selves came as their chariots rode through Capitol's designated streets. They wouldn't get anywhere close to where they weren't supposed to be, just gliding on the gilded surface.

But it was the last time chariots like those would ever ride on the gilded streets of the Capitol surface. There wouldn't be another parade like that ever again. There shouldn't be if everything went according to plan.