Reaping Day; the most dreaded holiday in every district of Panem. By day's end the eighteen year olds would be celebrating while the eleven year olds take on the new looming sense of doom. To make the most out of the government-sanctioned child sacrifice holiday, it became the day the two largest meals were cooked among many of the families in District 10. Fasting in February in order to repent for 10's involvement in the first rebellion was a tradition started within the first few years of the Games, yet now it provided them with a much heartier array of proteins they wouldn't otherwise have access to during the year.
The vast desert plains seemed to go on endlessly, vegetation primarily sparse spare the short grassed enclosures for cattle. A variety of cacti lined the fenced edges of the Ovejas property, the house itself looking cramped compared to the white wooden barn repaired in sections by metal. A clash between the historic barns of 10's past and the nondescript metal buildings swimming with peacekeepers. Family owned ranches weren't too uncommon in the district, often one ancestor's good favor with the Capitol secured a far better life for the future generations; not that they weren't still treated as other. Quotas and inspections kept them in line, motivated them to maintain the picture perfect appearance of ranchers eager to serve.
The Livestock industry was messy no matter which end of it one worked, whether birthing or butchering there was still blood on the hands of every citizen. Most children were introduced to the work at around six years old, usually taking care of feedings or milking; in the warehouse-sized, overcrowded chicken coops they could be sent out with baskets to collect eggs. There were only two cases of a child being fatally wounded by a particularly pissed off hen so far. In the case of children born into the fortune of family-owned land, though, choring started as early as the day they began walking. There was something different about the meat and dairy products from an old school family ranch; the milk tasted richer, the meat succulently tender. High Quality.
Though the Ovejas ranch only housed the direct line of since-passed Rique and Mari-Maesus Ovejas, close and distant relatives could still be hired on as help and be spared having to enter the job lottery. Everyone had to work, it was only a question of exactly what work you'd be doing until the end of your days. No matter where you were though, you could never escape the distinct scent that blanketed District 10. Cow patty smelt fresh compared to the scent of burning, rancid meat pumped out of the slaughterhouse smoke flues; perhaps it was for that reason there was an abundance of green and purple bushes between the house and barn. They emitted a strong clean scent, something to refresh and clear the senses.
Among the bushes and just a few feet from the back door of the house, a tarp had been hung over some fencing to provide shade from the hot summer sun. Two different yet equally long wooden dinner tables had been positioned into an L shape, featuring twenty placemats from either end and a variety of covered dishes at the center. Black beans, tortillas, skinned prickly pear, and most importantly the large metal plate in the center of either table still emitting steam. Its contents featured pork and beef in their most rejected forms, from intestine chorizo to rump cut bistic. Closer to the house was a short blue table, six plates having already been served small portions that sat covered by cloth napkins.
With two pitchers of fresh cow's milk in tow, Valiria practically led the clown cars' worth of family members out of the house with a call for breakfast. Boisterous voices emitted from the open door, waking up the eldest woman of the bunch who already sat at the head of the table since she brought out the placemats themselves. Ximena had arrived at five in the morning with her eldest son and his family in tow, wanting to be sure they could help set up and she could relax after such a long walk. Valiria filled her glass up halfway, gently squeezing her shoulder for a moment before continuing around the table. Their skin was a warm, tawny brown but the younger woman's face bore a sun-kissed red from the previous day's work.
"Ama, this is where you've been?"
With a curly haired toddler struggling to break out of his arms, Rahui Sr. and his wife Xotchi joined Ximena at the end of the table. Unlike the other two women, Rahui had dark almond skin that made him often look like an outcast among his siblings. He was the oldest of the second generation, first to be a grandfather and yet still the most recent to have another child. Little Jaimay had wriggled his way out of his father's arms from the moment the man sat down and ran directly for his older nephew: eight-year old Rahui, already in the midst of trying to shake off the twin three year olds pulling on either sleeve of his shirt. "Papaaaaa!"
Agust was, for lack of a better word, too distracted in a heated debate with his younger brother Tanok about the unfair advantage of being a career tribute in the arena. Whether or not the opportunity should be instituted for all districts, so that everyone could enter on a similar playing field. As the older boys of the third generation, they hadn't thought about the Hunger Games as scary in years and couldn't hold back from discussing it as if it were a mere sport. An insensitive attitude considering their own baby sister Nima at the other end of the table, a month away from her nineteenth birthday and eyes glazed over as she stared into the distance. Valiria filled the girl's glass up to the brim with milk, attempting to get her attention to no avail; she'd been practically catatonic since the morning.
Given his father's lack of interference in being essentially tackled by the younger children, Rahui would be saved by the last Ximena's middle children. Unmarried and childless, Sylvi and Santi were the first case of twins in the family; they became dutiful to the second pair born just forty-three years later; Sylvie and Tonie. The youngest of Valiria's children and the only ones to inherit the darker skin of their paternal grandfather, they were the perfect pair to cause chaos but seemed to melt into the tickling embrace of their aunt and uncle. It would take a few minutes to wrestle them into their seats, having to uncover the plates to convince them to stay.
Counting placemats to soothe her tired nerves, Valiria glanced towards the door of the house to see why the rest were taking so long. Blocking the doorway stood her own husband Riquez, the man wiping a hand down his copper tanned face in frustration at the indistinguishable statement from his eldest daughter. A word hadn't even the chance to escape his lips in retaliation before Daria came striding out in her cotton green dress, a single long braid fluttering at her sides.
"I told her she cannot wear em' and she locked us all out! I ain't her keeper, papi!"
There was never a year without a child swimming in the pool of potential tributes, one would assume that by now there would at least be less hassle in getting dressed and out the door. Venturing deeper into the house and to the foot of the old creaking staircase, Riquez found both of his younger sisters crowding at the door outside his daughters' bedroom. Aracely and Isa spoke quietly and with a kind forcefulness only a mother could manage, not that it made a difference as even from where Riquez stood it was obvious the door had been locked. Taking three steps up, he was forced back down again in order to make space for his quick stepping, fair skinned, brother-in-law Bembe; the man was already balding and sweating out his ears as he hurriedly guided his own mother down the stairs.
"I can take care for myself, pinche cono!" Foul mouthed yet in turn the most respectfully honest of the entire family line, Abuela Mila nearly threw herself down the stairs attempting to remove her arm from the man's grasp. They both made it down in one piece, stopping short in their walk towards the door when Bembe's daughter Mari stumbled directly into them. In her twenties and not missing a beat in her fall into delinquency, she was unable to explain the unlabeled bottle of dark, syrupy liquid in her hand. Her smile read innocence, her feet betraying that non-verbal claim while she tried to point back towards the kitchen.
At the counter stood Castel, her younger brother who relished in finally being nineteen; so much so he'd already finished one of the special bottles of wine saved in the back cupboard. Hiccupping yet maintaining his balance and composure far better than his sister, the boy shrugged.
"Just an early celebration~." Giggles erupted between the two that were subsequently quieted by the look of their grandmother, the woman grabbing them both by the ear and out the door before her son could give his two cents. The house was quieter now, whispering the primary sound as his sisters still tried to plead with a closed door. It would be halfway up the stairs that distraction would continue to keep the head of household from continuing his trek, Aracely's youngest son Blais stepping out of the twins' room with an air of confidence. Soft wheat toned skin highlighted the mass of freckles he'd earned out on the field, his face was shadowed now by the tan, wool toluca-style hat on his head; the boy completed the look with his father's bolo tie over the white cotton shirt still not tucked in to his denim pants.
The spitting image of Abuelito Rique, Riquez gave the seventeen year old a curt nod of approval as they passed each other on the staircase. Blais would be the last of the boys in the family to go into the reaping, only for a short while, but long enough to feel secure in the level of help on the ranch. As much love and endearment there was in the world for the family unit, at the end of the day work controlled all of their lives and strong healthy males were considered the ideal for every job. Each Reaping Ball had the potential to cripple a ranch, it only made sense to have a high number of children to prevent that outcome. The top of the stairs were finally beneath his boots when Riquez was shoved forward by small hands, grateful at least to have stumbled forward and not back.
"Ma! Mami!" Just one year away from her first reaping, Isa's daughter Gabrie shoved herself between the door and the two women in order to become unreachable by the younger boy running with his hand held out. "He keeps tryin' to make me eat the eye! Make em' stop, tell em' stop!" Marteen was only five years old but had the hysterical laugh of a mad man, holding up the cooked chicken's eye as if it were the prized marble of the collection. With impeccable aim, he managed to lodge it into his older sister's hair despite her attempts at hiding; her scream could have shattered the glass of the few hanging photographs.
Heavy footed with shoes muddied, Anton came running up in search of what ailed his daughter. Panic and fear turned to disappointment and anger for both children, the bronze glow of his cheeks taking on the deep red of embarrassment. Throwing his son over his shoulder and instructing his daughter to follow them down the stairs, Anton was joined by Isa on his way to the lower floor. "Sorry 'bout that Riquez, they get more outta control once they're on the ranch!"
Finally silence, Aracely being the last to still remain inside the house with him save for the lone child on the other side of the bedroom door. His younger sister's face bore an expression of defeat, one hand still trying to turn the doorknob despite already knowing it wouldn't work. "Daria stormed out and she slammed the door, won't tell us what happened. Señor ten piedad, I don't know how ya'll do it with three girls."
Resting a tender hand on Aracely's shoulder and gesturing for her to join the rest downstairs while the food was still warm, Riquez heaved a sigh as he knocked on the door. Silence, spare the sound of his sister's retreating footsteps and soon the backdoor coming to a close.
"Don't make me take the door handle off again, it's no fair to your sister." A few beats. It almost became possible that she had ignored him completely or truly couldn't hear from where she was hiding, but the soft click of a lock indicated the threat had been well received.
Faded pink were the walls of the girls room, white wood trim almost gray from the years of use; two twin beds saying so much about either occupant based on how they were made. Beneath the unmade bed with too many blankets wrapped within themselves lay the sixteen year old middle child of the Ovejas line; named for her father's mother despite having the same tawny-undertone olive skin as her mother's. Riquez didn't need to check any other part of the room, her hiding spot had been the same since she was a toddler.
"Maesus Xotchi.." He began, letting out a groan as he leaned down against the foot of the bed to peek underneath. The brunette was laying on her stomach, chin on her hands as she looked at the hardwood flooring. "I wanna wear my roper boots..." Beside the girl were the brown leathered boots in question, faded and muddy on the bottom but it was clear she'd scrubbed the tops as best she could. It would be viewed as disrespectful to wear such shoes to an event like the Reaping; even if she never stepped on stage for the Capitol to see, there would still be glances and comments from members of their community. Riquez knew this just as well his daughter did, the man's lack of response was the only answer she needed. "I know, I know but..."
Rolling out from beneath the bed and rising to her feet, Maesus approached the small closet she shared with her sister before pulling out a pair of dark green mary-janes. She'd had them since her first reaping year, quite a few months before that even. Holding her finger against the sole, she displayed the large split in the seam. "Damn things broke last time I wore em', I thought there'd be new hand-me-downs by now so I never asked ma to try fixin em'. Even then, my feet just don't fit no more."
Leaning against the bed frame as getting up would be a lot harder than getting down, Riquez looked back towards the foot of the closet. "The boots Isa gifted you and Daria? What happened to em'?"
"That's the problem!" Maesus exclaimed, fishing for the dark brown leather boots from beneath worn clothes. Most gifts were shared between her and her sister, and with these they'd made an agreement to only wear them inside as they were for special occasions only. If the occasion had to be walked to, they wore work boots until they were inside again. They wanted to keep them looking nice. The walk to the Justice Hall would leave the boots in dire need of a wash unlikely to truly bring them back to original glory.
"Daria's gonna be upset, papi. That deal's bindin' but if not breakin' it I have to wear my roper boots and I can do that!" Maesus plopped down on the ground next to her father and retrieved said shoes from beneath the bed. "The chismosas will say we're disrespecting the Capitol if I'm in em' though, I really did try on the cleanin'." Setting the work boots aside, she looked back to the nice pair now set in front of herself. "I can make it up to her, if I wear em'."
"You know better than to break a deal though, Maesita." Rolling her eyes at the childish suffixed nickname, Maesus looked between her two options. "Stuck 'tween a rock and a hard place here, then." Tilting her head and resting it against the man's shoulder, her eyes drifted to the broken shoes on the floor beside her closet and shrugged. Breakfast was growing cold downstairs and the rest of the family had already started the feast, jubilating voices echoing in through the open window.
Grabbing the nice pair of boots, she untied the laces and slid them on over the knee length pristine white socks she wore. "I can pick up some of her chores and she can take a day off to read. Or on days she's sposed' to babysit the twins I can take over while ya'll still pay her." Really they earned less than a few cents for any babysitting they helped their parents with, their father wanting them to have their own funds and yet not the ability to give them anything of true substance. "If she's angry 'bout it still, I can give her my savings to buy a new pair." Rising to her feet, Maesus stood in front of the old cracked mirror in the room to admire the look of the boots with her brown dress. Even doing a twirl for vindication.
Her father hadn't even made it back down to the bottom of the stairs when she came down skipping, gently resting a hand on his back to not bump him over as she passed by. "Gracias, papi." Her mood had lifted with the shoe debacle sorted out, looming fear background noise considering the reaping was still hours away. Maesus went bounding out the back door, scanning for an available seat once the tables were in view. There was no seating chart spare for the eldest women at either head and the kids table for children under eleven, and of course the empty placemat saved for her late older brother.
Rique Jr. had been the spitting image of their father, seventeen and wrangling cattle as if it were nothing but brought down by something as simple as the flu. Five years ago the primary swine for breeding had passed away, leaving their quotas short and their belts even tighter; all he wanted to do was bring home some wild pigs to help even things out. He was dead within days, the doctor still hadn't even figured out what he'd contracted. Some argued it was a better fate than dying in the Hunger Games, watching him suffer for those short days made Maesus argue otherwise.
Besides his empty seat was Daria then Castel, an empty seat between him and Blais just ready for the taking. Of course, not without her older sister practically screaming across the short distance.
"I told you no!"
Kicking up dust as she scurried to the table, Maesus held up her foot to show off the boots to her aunts who were certainly watching the situation. "They'll be lookin' this clean tonight!" Grinning at her sister's annoyance, the girl settled in the seat between her older cousins and inhaled the savory scents wafting around the table. Before serving herself, though, she looked over to Daria and stuck out her hand over Castel's plate. "I'll do all your chorin' tomorrow or watch the twins while ya paid for the babysitting. We can work outta deal but these are my only option."
Castel grew impatient, reaching over the eventual handshake in order to eat his own food. Blais was already on his second plate and feeling full but he wasn't stupid enough to waste a single bit. This was one of the few days they truly reaped the benefit of all their hard work, where they didn't simply rely on the least desirable parts of the meat they raised.
Now with every family member seated and in the perfect harmony of soft chatter and chewing, Ximena stood up from the end of the table. Revitalized from both the nap and the delicious meal now filling her stomach, her mere presence quieted the rest of the group. All eyes cast towards the gray haired woman and the faded yellow sweater that she was practically swimming in. In her left hand her glass of milk, raising a toast followed up by every other glass whether empty or full.
"Daria, Nima, Blais, Maesus..." She began, eyes moving between each individual teen with a mixture of sadness and pride. "May you all walk with high chins today, remember no matter what: you are loved and strength of faith will keep you safe. You're never walkin' alone. La familia los es todo." Family is everything. Spanish, the once primary language of their land now a crime to teach in school. Books were burned and hundreds of citizens were arrested. Fifty-four years later and even the resident Peacekeepers spoke it, many elders still unable or even unwilling to speak anything else. As much history and culture the Capitol managed to erase, spoken Spanish was inevitably passed down and it was primarily during the increased security of the Reaping Ball that folks held their tongues.
Maesus and her cousins were considered 'No Sabo' kids, those who could say every curse in the language but never learned to speak it fluently. Could sing along to music at gatherings yet couldn't hold a long conversation with their grandparents. More and more kids had become this way, losing further grip on the culture they barely know to begin with.
As one of the largest populations in Panem, District 10 had thousands of children entered into the reaping each year; it made Maesus' chances far lower compared to those in the smaller districts. Hell, Daria had been taking out more tesserae in her duty as the eldest sibling and managed to make it to her final reaping year even after the doubled chances she faced during the 50th Reaping Ball. That very fact soothed the sixteen year old's anxieties, guilty that she'd only taken tesserae out once compared to Daria's many but unwilling to argue with the expectations of their parents. Oh the luck of being a once youngest, now middle daughter.
Second to rise from their seat was her father, the man having barely gotten a moment to take a sip of his milk before Valiria nudged him to say something. His gaze flicked between both his daughters with hesitance before settling off in the distance past them all. "In 14 ADD your Abuelito Rique changed all of our fates with a simple offer of calfs to the bored Capitol Gamemakers, their sacrifice as mutations in that years Hunger Games ensured that this ranch would always be our home even when the Reaping comes calling." A story told a million times that kept each new generation in line, especially those still bearing the Ovejas name.
"He nor Abuelita Mari-Maesus can be here to tell you, but I know they would be proud of the bravery everyone one of ya'll has shown in face of the Hunger Games. You're all children of Panem and I am thankful for the Capitol's kindness that has allowed us to be able to gather together today." Above the living room mantle inside the house hung the Capitol's emblem, their kind grace and gift of a family ranch being held above their heads from every angle of the home. Literally.
It was only ten-thirty when the breakfast had to reach its end. It'd be a long walk to the Justice Hall, only one oxen cart to carry the two elderly women and the younger children. Mandatory attendance without much consideration to the long distances many had to travel had been planned for, the entire set up had already been brought down and the house was once again full of life.
The youngest running about in the bliss of naivety, the eldest sat in the living room speaking over that afternoon's work knowing that morning time lost could make or break quota. Maesus sat on the ground in front of a kitchen chair, her mother's fingers delicately braiding down two separate plaits into her dark brown hair. A mess of curls, her air dried hair only reached to her shoulders, wet and braided they were just a few inches below. Tied ribbons cut from the material of an old pillowcase held either end in place, hitting the girls shoulders when the time to leave came to pass.
Dust rose up to Maesus' knees as she walked alongside her older sister and cousins, leading the pack as the children who'd actually have to be sent in line to check in. The closer they got to the heart of District 10 the more families joined them in the solmen stroll, some familiar other strangers; all born into the industry just like she. Physically strong from handling large animals or mentally sound enough to kill after long shifts in a slaughterhouse. Even on a true ranch there was blood on her hands, having killed at least twenty chickens and a pig by the time she began roping. Every year the same question came knocking.
'Would it be just as easy with a person?'
Maesus appeared as dazed as the grief stricken adults around them, shoulder bumping into her older sister as she fell out of line with the rest of the group. A knot formed in her stomach, saliva drying away and the dizzying overwhelm of fears took over. On either side of the road now stood peacekeepers who watched them all like hawks, shoving the younger children struggling to continue forward as the Justice Hall came into view.
Daria's arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder and helped her stabilize on the uneven gravel, keeping her from backing away in fear like the others. "Just two more years, Mae-Mae." A childish nickname but it soothed the girl. "Then you're milkin teats and collecting eggs everyday till your hands fall off." She laughed, a much needed chime in her younger sister's ears. Maesus took a breath and wrapped her other arm around Daria's waist, eyes taking in the beauty of District 10's Justice Hall.
Architecture from before the war was few and far between, but this one building represented a once integral part of the citizens history. Curvilinear shaped gable walls and low parapets at the roof line, every window and entryway was arched; there was little decorative detailing save for the reddish brown roof tiles against plain white walls and exposed wooden rafter tails. The tallest part of the building was centered to the stage and featured a large window, giving sight to a large bronze bell. On either side shorter extensions of the building, sprawling forward only about twelve feet ahead of where the entrance faced.
Given the mass of citizens in the district it faced out towards miles of flat desert land, the few plants that grew cut down yearly to make a uniformed space for the reaping. Speakers were placed almost a mile back with a large screen to display the stage for all, no one was allowed to miss this show. Many plants did skirt around the edges of the building itself, select cacti for decor and as always: bush sage.
Never had Maesus graced the inner halls of the Justice building, how lucky to always be just on the outside.
The sign in tables were within view, the crowd pushing up against she and her cousins as they were all herded forward. On one side of her Blais stuck his index finger out, unbothered by the prick and quickly catching up with the older group of boys closer to the stage. In front of her Nima's name was checked and she waited up despite the other girls pushing beside her, soon joined by Daria.
The well dressed woman sitting before her grabbed Maesus wrist roughly, not saying a word as she pricked the girl's finger and placed it under her name slot in the book. Approved and moved ahead, she caught up to the older two girls and followed them closer to the front. "Nima, take a breath!" Daria elbowed their cousin in the gut to bring her back to reality, the three of them standing still in a group shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of others.
"It'll be over before ya know it." Gently interlacing her fingers with Nima's in an attempt to help her calm down, Maesus rested her head against the taller girl's arm and looked up towards the stage. The mayor and few other district officials were already taking their seats, his drawn-out speech ignored as he spoke over the children being signed in and parents gathering to watch. Beside him sat Catalena Rez, the only female victor from 10, and Colt Gutier.
In total District 10 has had three victors over fifty-four years, Colt won over a decade ago at eighteen but volunteered to mentor nearly every year since. Neither of this year's mentors were looking at the pool of potential tributes though, looking most directly at the escort sauntering up to stage.
Hot and sticky, the July sun beat down on them and a steady silence settled over the thousands of citizens. Ridiculously dressed and wearing heels that had to be at least three inches tall, the District 10 escort approached the mic and Maesus snorted at the feathers falling from his outfit with each step. Much to the annoyance of those around them, she pointed out his bright yellow-orange makeup to Daria and whispered. "If his nose was any pointer, I swear he'll squat down and start layin' eggs."
All three teen girls stifled their laughter, she could've sworn some of those around them were smiling too; it wasn't normal to seem so cheerful at the reaping. In truth their heads were filled with alarm, unease eating away till they had to escape to finding something else to focus on, something lighthearted and in this case, funny.
"Good Afternoon District 10!" Silence befell the hundreds of thousands of citizens, only the faint call of cattle interrupting him. "Welcome all to the exciting 54th Annual Hunger Games Reaping Ball! I'm sure you all are most ready to know which lucky boy and girl will get to represent your district in this year's games!" He spoke flamboyantly and with a beaming smile, just the right spot in the sunlight and he was blinding half the audience. "But first, as always!" Gleaming in the sun was a sleek black remote, the two screens around them illuminating with the same prerecorded video message. "Some words from our great President Snow." He was the only one to clap as it began to play.
How many more years would they continue to reuse the same video, Maesus wondered. It'd been playing since the year Snow came into power and every child of Panem could have it memorized by now. Honor. Glory. Pride. What a world to live in where mass murder brought such things to a person, to their community. At the very least the monetary reward was nice.
At its end the mayor and a few upper class citizens clapped as well, their children still at risk yet their respect for the Capitol was strong. District 10 suffered from being under the radar, not overly policed and receiving gifts in the form of ranch owning; yet still heavily reliant on tesserae and losing children to the reaping or industry yearly. Many held great value in being subservient to the capitol so long as they had what little was given to them. Even some of the ranchers far off in the back clapped, the feeling of being indebted alive in them all.
"Now of course, ladies first." Confidence and glee radiated off the man on stage, his heels slowing him down as he reached the bowl to his left. Hand going up and over, papers were flicked around a few times before he finally settled on a single piece trapped between his middle and ring finger. He returned to the microphone again, looking out over the hundreds of anticipating eyes.
"Maesus Ovejas."
The ground may as well have opened up and swallowed her right there. How much better that would have been. Daria reacted first, her hand solidly resting in the middle of her younger sister's back and urging her forward. It was well intentioned, not wishing to see her be unceremoniously dragged to the stage by peacekeepers. Betrayal was all Maesus felt by the action, dazed dread soon following as her feet betrayed her next. Stepping forward as if on their own and leading her towards the walkway between the gender-separated groups of children. The sweat going down her back had gone cold now, a chill shocking her system and making her pause a moment as she reached the last step of the stairs to stage.
In the distance Valiria had collapsed into her husband's arms, silencing sobs as best she could as the surrounding family members gave her sympathetic glances. From where Maesus stood she could make out the relieved faces of Daria and Nima, searching in vain for some kind of assurance. None could be found. The entire district had their eyes on her and she froze.
Shoes clicking on the smooth flat concrete, her hand was clammy as the district escort helped lead her to the center before another few claps of his perfectly manicured hands. "Beautiful girl, isn't she folks? Once again for Maesus!" He may as well have been speaking another language by that point, the girl not even realizing she'd been led to the left side of the stage. She was unconsciously rocking on her heels, almost invisible to the rest of the audience.
"And now for the gentleman." The feather dressed man now left his position at the mic, sifting through the second bowl of names on stage.
"Blais Alvero."
Her gaze shot back up, anxiously searching the crowd as her older cousin came more into view. It felt too coincidental, yet there were safeguards in place to prevent a cheating draw; it wasn't as though someone had it out for the family. They stayed in line. The odds had been in their favor. Blais was beside her now on stage. As the mayor began reading off the Treaty of Treason her ears began to ring. The escort urging them towards one another out of desperation to move the show along, the kids were robotic as they shook hands and faced their audience. Both of their hands were raised in premature triumph by the escort between them who seemed most proud to be up there, a scattered applause their only send off.
"Come now!" Jerked back towards the heavy wooden door being opened on either side by a peacekeeper, Maesus finally caught the squinting red -red eyes? She blinked again as if she'd been seeing something but knew upon second take that the man had most certainly the eyes of a chicken, by god it was purposeful; how she wanted to tell him of her first impression from afar. It was comforting to still have her cousin beside her but almost immediately after the doors were shut they were split up, led down opposite ends of the hall.
She looked back in Blais' direction, unnerved he didn't do the same but grateful she hadn't been taken far before stopping in front of an office. The two guards donning white uniforms on either side of the door didn't spare her a glance, ensuring the door was audibly locked once she was inside.
It was plain looking and had only three chairs and a desk, a single large aloe plant in the corner. Settling into one of the plusher chairs, it felt as though the sky had caved in and she couldn't breathe. Her body trembled and her face flushed warmly, tears streaming fast down her cheeks. Shallow attempts at getting air only made her cry harder, burying her face into her hands and pulling her knees to her chest. It was the first time she truly felt weak.
The door flew open.