Chapter 45: Marionette

Mortar and pestle clashed against each other rhythmically as Sera added in more dried white rose petals alongside dried blue petals of some other flower that she couldn't recognize but she knew one thing about it; the blue flowers were poisonous.

A mask covered her face to prevent breathing in the poisonous dust from the grounding.

Her hands were gloved, her right arm still covered under a thick bandage hidden away by her one-sleeved dress with silk orange roses and her long black hair tied up away from her face, held up by the dahlia pin that Finnick had returned to her three days ago.

She ground the petals into fine dust before dumping them into a small glass jar where dried white rose petals already sat neatly. She mixed the powders in and closed the jar tight before shaking the jar to mix the powder in.

Yet despite the bright blue hue of the unrecognized blossoms, President Snow's roses stood out. Its unnaturally white tint gleamed brightly under the artificial sun of the greenhouse, drowning out the blue.

"The people have been getting anxious, Mr President." The senator said, throwing Sera a cautious look. "It's time we did something to quell the growing discontent."

From the corner of her eyes, she could see President Snow and some member of the Senate. The old senator would often pause mid-conversation to watch her work.

She was after all the entertainment for the evening and she knew it too well. She had a part to play and she played it well, slowing her movements, and being very delicate with her motions.

President Snow leaned back in his chair, his face a mask of indifference. "What discontent?" He kept his eye on Sera's quick yet graceful motions. "The people are busy with the games, I hardly am aware of any…discord around Panem, or perhaps is this a…plot?"

"No," The senator quickly said. "Of course not. I would never. I'm just thinking of the best interests of the people."

"Or yourself." President Snow coldly stated, gone was the earlier welcoming tone. "Which is it?"

She spooned the contents of the jar into small cloth teabags she'd prepared beforehand and finished filling up the last of the teabags.

With a swift motion, she took off her mask, catching the eye of the senator whose cheeks were suddenly painted with a light pink shade as she spared him a soft smile. She wanted to throw up.

She traded the mask for a pair of pruning shears and picked up a few white rose stems along with a roll of floral wires.

She gracefully stripped the thorn-infested roses of their leaves quickly. The roses that the senator didn't know were the bad batch, the batch the President would throw away; he didn't like his roses to have thorns.

"I only think of the people." The senator said slowly yet it was obvious he was lying.

Sera smiled at his words and shook her head. She had caught him accepting bribes at some charity gala he had hosted two weeks ago.

President Snow chuckled."Is that so?" She pretended her focus was on the rose as she snipped the thorns away. She looked up momentarily to meet the gaze of the President. "What do you think, Seraphine?"

"I think Senator Statitius is just…trying his best." She said, trying to placate President Snow but the President and she knew her attempts were half-hearted at best. It was after all her part to play. "His interests like the Presidents are the people and nothing else—at least that's what I've heard senators do; they serve the people and the nation or maybe I was wrong."

"No, you're correct." Senator Statitius quickly agreed. "I serve the people and the President. I…just believe that it's time for an election."

"An election?" Sera echoed, leaning back to reach for the shears again as she snipped off the head of a rose by accident.

The senator was a dead man walking.

"Senator Statitius, am I hearing what you said is correct?" President Snow turned his cold gaze on the unflinching old senator. "I'll pretend I didn't hear what you said."

"But I did mean what I said, Mr President." The old senator stated. He leaned back against his chair, his long black coat touching the ground as he did so. "An election is needed. The last time we had one was over twenty years ago."

President Snow's face darkened and his gaze flickered to Sera's who nodded in silent obedience. She took out a few of the teabags as an avox appeared with an ornate silver and glass teapot with boiling water. The avox poured three cups and she slipped three teabags into the china tea cups.

She waited for a few minutes as the conversation grew louder and louder and the color of the water changed from clear to pale gold. As a finishing touch, she dropped a single white rose petal onto the cup meant for Senator Statitius.

"Well all this talk is getting quite heavy," She motioned the avox to bring the tea over to the table with the President and the Senator as she took off her gloves. "Gentlemen, would you care for some tea? I have prepared a floral blend, made from scratch. A little break from those troubling tedious talks."

Both men turned their attention to Sera, momentarily distracted from their confrontation. The senator eyed the tea warily, a shadow of suspicion crossing his face. "Did you make the tea yourself?" He asked cautiously.

Sera met his gaze, her eyes wide with innocence. "Of course, I did, Senator. You saw me preparing it just moments ago."

Satisfied with her answer, Senator Statitius reached for the cup, though a flicker of doubt still lingered in his eyes. His cup in his hand, the floral aroma wafted through the air but he didn't take a single sip instead he turned to President Snow. "I think this tea would go well with some pastries—my wife made some earlier. Would you care to try one?"

President Snow nodded and Senator Statitius motioned for an avox to bring the pastries. "Perhaps you should join us at the table, Seraphine." President Snow lightly ordered and she bowed her head before pulling out a chair to sit between the two men.

Plain pastries coated with almonds were brought to the table moments after and Senator Statitius' frail smile grew wider. "These were baked by my wife," Senator Statitius said with a touch of pride. "I thought you might enjoy them."

President Snow remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on Sera. In that unspoken instant, a command passed between them. Sera understood and nodded subtly, her heart pounding. She picked up one of the pastries, took a small bite, and spat it out into a handkerchief, concealing her distaste.

Senator Statitius leaned forward in alarm, taking offense at her actions. "Is this raisins?" She rasped out as an avox brought her a glass of water to clear her mouth. There was a bitter aftertaste of almonds that made her want to vomit.

"And almonds." The senator added.

With a practiced smile, Sera handed the handkerchief to a nearby avox, who silently whisked it away. Returning her attention to the room, she cleared her throat. "Forgive me," She apologized, rubbing her mouth with a fresh silk handkerchief. "I have a minor allergy to raisins. I hope you understand."

The tension in the room seemed to shift, slightly diffused by the sudden diversion. President Snow's gaze hardened, but he remained composed. Senator Statitius, catching his breath, found himself caught off guard by Sera.

"No, I should be the one to apologize." Senator Statitius bowed his head in shame, his hands still clutching the teacup.

"It's fine. I'm sure the pastries are great."

"They are." He said with a somber look on his face. "It was my wife's family recipe."

Sera frowned and took a sip of the tea. The warm floral tea was cloyingly sweet. She hated it. "Oh, your wife's family recipe?" She echoed quietly, tapping her nails against the cup. "Congrats on your remarriage, Senator."

The color drained out of the senator's face as his grip on the cup slackened for a second before he took a shaky sip. "H-how?" His voice was quiet; he cleared his throat and looked up. "Thank you for your well-wishes."

"Remarriage?" President Snow echoed, focusing his attention on the still form of the old senator. His expression turned icy, his silent alarm resurfacing. He sarcastically chimed in, his voice dripping with contempt. "Indeed, Senator, congratulations on your remarriage. Do tell me, what happened to your ex-wife?"

Before the Senator could respond, Sera spoke up, her voice unwavering. "She passed away, Mr President. I hear it was a devastating loss for the Senator and his daughter, wasn't it, Senator?"

The wide-eyed and speechless senator could only mumble out a quiet and meek 'yes' before Sera quickly moved on, not letting him have room to speak. A mixture of surprise and concern washed over the Senator's face.

He struggled to find the right words, but Sera was already talking again, stopping him from carrying on. "I think it's commendable to be able to find happiness again so quickly after such a tragic loss."

President Snow's icy demeanor cracked ever so slightly. "Indeed." He added. His gaze landed on the almond pastries on the stand then moved to the still wide-eyed senator. He stared intently at the Senator, awaiting his response while Sera flipped her wrist over to check the time.

Well, it wasn't like the tea would take immediate effects. She had a few sips but she wasn't worried about herself. She watched in silence as the two men silently studied each other while unconsciously the senator drained his cup.

The senator, having finished his tea, rose from his seat. "Thank you for your time, Mr. President," Senator Statitius said, his voice measured. "I hope you will consider the concerns of the people and contemplate the need for an election."

President Snow responded with a dismissive wave of his hand, his eyes never leaving the senator's form.

"Oh, senator!" Sera stood up, clapping her hands together. "Before I forget." She turned around and hurried over to grab the finished rose bouquet she had made in front of him. "A little gift from me. The President was generous enough to allow me access to his roses so it's only fitting I made a bouquet. I thought it would be a good gift for someone like you. It's a…meaningful gift."

Senator Statitius nodded slowly, hesitantly reaching out for the bouquet before Sera shoved it into his arms as gently as she could. He cradled it in his arms like a sick child and looked at the President behind her. "W-what do white roses mean?" He barely managed out.

"It depends." He raised his brow in confusion and Sera resisted the urge to click her tongue impatiently. "Well, it could mean trust, loyalty, or…"

"Or?"

"Remembrance." Sera finished with a soft smile.

"Thank you." Senator Statitius slowly backed away and hurried out of the room.

The moment he was gone, avoxes flocked to the table to clear up any remnants of the tea and pastries before they disappeared into the marble pillars. President Snow tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair as he waited and Sera made a note of everything she knew she had to say.

"The pastries…" Was the first thing President Snow said.

Sera immediately wiped the smile off her face, sitting up. "Cyanide." She said, washing away the remnants of the little taste of the tea on her tongue with some plain water. "He tried to cover up the bitter almond taste by coating the outside with almonds."

President Snow chuckled like Sera had told him a funny joke. "At least he tried to be discreet." He muttered under his breath. "That's more I can say about others." He stopped tapping. "How long does he have?"

"Three days, he'll pass from a heart attack."

"And his wife?"

"She passed away a few weeks back," Sera answered, recalling the pale-faced woman with her cracked bloody lips and bluish eyes. "Originally admitted to Iaso Emley Clinic during the beginning of the year later she was admitted to Hepius Blythe Medical Institute right before her death."

"When was that?" He asked, turning away from her to look at the florist's table where a bunch of the disposed of thorns and leaves lay strewn about. "The exact date would be nice."

Sera let out a shaky breath and nodded. "She died the day after Reaping."

"Cause of death?"

"I'm not too sure since the doctors and nurses were quiet about it but I suspect it might have something to do with her occupation I could be wrong but I remember someone mentioning that Senator Statitius' wife was a geneticist for the games."

"She was." He noted. "You're quite efficient." Sera didn't know what to say. "That was a compliment." His suspicions were not quelled at all.

"Thank you."

He didn't acknowledge her and carried on dismissively. "Anything else?"

Blue-tinted lips and hollow eyes stared back at her. Sera momentarily lost her train of thought as the image of Senator Statitius' wife was replaced by another. Jenny Cresta silently made a plea at Sera before she shut her eyes.

"I believe she might've been poisoned; her lips were blue and so was her skin. Either poison or hyperthermia."

"So she was poisoned by something she was working on."

"I think Seneca Crane might know more." Sera quietly suggested, wanting to wash her hands off of the situation but she had to do one more thing.

President Snow didn't answer her. She patiently waited for him to acknowledge her while she started making another set of scripts to recite while he stewed in his silence.

"Do you," He began after a pause. "Honestly believe that Senator Statitius asked for an election because his wife died due to the games?" He raised his brow and clasped his hands together.

Sera paused her train of thought and frowned. He'd never asked her opinion before—at least not seriously. She was a little troubled as she swallowed the words she'd initially prepared.

"I don't believe my opinion matters." She slowly said, trying her best to stay neutral.

"I asked."

She nodded. "Well, I think," She sucked in a nervous breath and started thinking of what to say. In her head, the board had rearranged itself. "I think that the Senate is using the games as an excuse to cause discord in Panem."

The corners of his lips went up and he leaned forward like she had something of interest. "Now why would you consider that?"

"I know it's not my place to say it or speculate considering—"

"I give you my permission to speak your mind."

Sera smiled. She was in and it only took her over three years. "Thank you for your generosity." He nodded his head and motioned her to carry on. "Senator Statitius was the fourth senator this year to attempt your life and that too after asking for an election. He, like the past four senators, lost a member of their family before attempting to poison you. You tasked me to eliminate three of those before they had the chance to make a second attempt."

"So?" President Snow said in a flippant tone. "An attempt on my life happens more often than you'd know Miss Reza." Sera frowned. "Don't make that face, carry on. Time is precious."

Sera circled the table to sit down. "But there is a glaring pattern. Last year there were thirteen senators who attempted to kill you and the year before there were seven and three Peacekeepers related to two senators. I'm not saying that the senate is conspiring against you but these attempts on your life seem to be more concentrated from senate members."

"Are you suggesting that the Senate is conspiring against me?"

"No," Sera quickly denied at the tone of his voice. She had to be more delicate. "I'm just sharing my observations."

"And you are quite observant." He paused for a moment to think. "I'll look into it. Anything else?" He didn't trust her. She knew that but she knew that her words weren't exactly lies: a perfect mix of truths and lies.

"We had a new addition to the orphanage."

"Wonderful." He commented dryly, his patience was growing thin. She had to quickly up their meeting. "Time is precious, Miss Reza."

"Yes, I understand." She sucked in a nervous breath. "Paul Harada recently joined the orphanage. His parents are said to have passed away."

President Snow stilled, clouds of emotions swirled in his steely cold eyes as his lips twisted into a frown. "Harada?" He echoed back sharply, rising from his seat.

Sera followed his movements and stood up obediently. "That was what I saw. Yes, Paulus Harada but he likes to go by Paul. He's a quiet boy—"

She quickly shut up once President Snow turned to glare at her. She swallowed nervously and clasped her hands together.

"Harada?" He asked again and she nodded. "Son of Head Consul Fabius Harada."

"Y-yes." She stuttered out, looking down. She was so close. "He was admitted the day before I held my annual charity gala for the orphanage."

"And you waited till now to tell me?"

"I wasn't fully sure if Paul was Consul Harada's son."

He raised his brows, his jaws clenched as he drew in a sharp breath. "I believe you have more to tell me."

"Yes, there's the matter of the new—" Just when she was so close, she interrupted.

"Apologies for the interruptions, Mr President but your dinner guests are here." One of President Snow's assistants walked into the conservatory without a glance at Sera and announced his next schedule.

Sera clamped her mouth shut and bowed her head. "I'll take my leave then."

She'd have to wait until next time to make her next move but at least, she'd manage to plant a seed of doubt in President Snow's mind against the Senate. She had nothing against them and conceptually she thought it was a good idea, only if they worked but they didn't. They were as useless as the consular tribune.

"Or you could join us." President Snow offered. It was more of a command than an offer. His overbearing gaze landed on Sera and she had no choice but to comply.

"If the President and his guests don't mind, I will." She lowered her head and made a silent apology in her head to Faline who she had promised to help.

"Take Seraphine to the rooftop gardens." The assistant bowed her head and turned away from Sera and the President.

Without another word, Sera quietly followed the woman. The quiet clicks of their heels were all that filled the imposing silence as Sera busied herself studying the old paintings in gold frames on the carved white walls.

Marble statues of gladiators and goddesses guarded each wall she passed. They looked down at her impassively, passing their judgment on her.

Somehow, she felt a little sick as the realization of what she had done set in. Senator Statitius wasn't a terrible man and the senate wasn't completely rotten but she needed them erase.

She was led up marble steps to the rooftop gardens. The garden itself was caged under an elaborate silver and glass dome that looked like it had sprung up from where marble ended. Below the silver skeleton, scarlet drapes hung with the flag of the Capitol and Panem.

Sera's heels clicked louder as she stepped into the white marble floor and her heart stopped momentarily when her gaze landed on Finnick. His back turned to her as he sat in his seat, busy chatting with Seneca Crane. She steeled herself and didn't stop as she led to her seat across from Plutarch.

The table was already set and the guests were already seated. She seemed like the last to arrive or so she thought. There were two empty chairs.

"Ah, Seraphine." Plutarch clasped his hands in silent glee as he greeted her. "Lovely to see you here."

"I'd say the same but we'd both know I'm a terrible liar," Sera replied. President Snow's assistant took out the chair next to Finnick for her to sit. She could only smile as she took her seat. "But it is nice to see you all, Seneca and…" Finnick slowly turned to her with a ghost of a smile. "Finnick."

"Likewise." Finnick curtly replied, taking a sip of his drink. "Though it hasn't been that long since we last saw each other." She gave him a look but he shrugged it off. It was just like him to cause misunderstandings. She wished he didn't mention their little run-in.

"Well, you make it sound like we meet more often."

"No, but we should." He joked.

Seneca cleared his throat and clasped his hands together as he leaned forward. Sera pursed her lips, she'd momentarily forgotten all about his presence. "I didn't realize you two were close." He eyed Sera's form and she pulled up her dress a little before sitting up straight.

"We're not," Sera answered before either Finnick or Plutarch had a chance to react. "We're just fellow victors."

Plutarch let out a quiet laugh and nodded. "I don't think you're close to any victors, Miss Reza." He commented.

"Apart from the ones from Five, I don't think I am." She answered honestly.

"Neither am I," Finnick chimed in, staring straight at Sera. "I'm not even close to the ones from my district. I keep to myself."

"I find that hard to believe," Seneca said, picking up his glass and holding it up for an avox to fill. "You just seem like a social butterfly."

"Oh, I am." Finnick shifted in his seat, his arm purposely brushing against hers as she pretended like he wasn't even there by focusing her attention on an amused Plutarch. "But there's a difference between knowing people and letting people know you."

Seneca nodded before he let out a small laugh. "So you don't let people in?"

"Not always," Finnick answered honestly. It would've been easier for him to lie like he always did but that evening he didn't want to lie. He didn't care that Sera was purposely ignoring his existence or that she was boxing herself into her own little space, he didn't care or bring himself to care. "I have bad experiences but even then I still want to let them in."

Sera's eyes flickered with a mix of understanding and pain. Her fingers twitched beside him as if instinctively yearning for his touch.

"Aren't you a kind person?" Plutarch remarked, eying Sera. He almost expected her to feel some guilt or better yet see her lose her composure for once. He did appreciate Sera's deceptive exterior but something was entertaining about witnessing someone lose their exposure.

Unfortunately for Plutarch, Sera wasn't an easy person. "Or foolish." She chimed in. "Sometimes, you just have to save your time and walk away."

"Is that what you would do?" Seneca questioned, a little surprised.

"Well, I'm a busy person and as much as I love the people around me I love myself enough to know when to walk away." She paused when her fingers brushed against his under the table. She quickly moved away.

His jaws clenched and he nodded. "Wise words." He commented, taking in a breath. "But I don't give up that easily."

"You'll get hurt."

"I don't mind." He stared at Sera; his gaze firm and unmoving. She didn't look away either and despite her heart wanting her to just fold right there and then, her mind chided her for being so naively childish; she broke contact and looked away.

"You know Seraphine is right." Plutarch quietly interrupted. "Sometimes, it is better to just leave things be."

"I agree," Seneca added.

A myriad of conflicted emotions swam in his eyes as he nodded. He opened and closed his mouth like he had some things left to say but before he could get another word in, President Snow walked in and took his seat.

President Snow greeted everyone around the table before he paused to stare at the tail of the table. The seat opposite of him was empty. He turned to the clock held by a marble statue and stared at its face intently.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Quiet ticks of the clock filled in the gaps of the silent net that enveloped the dining room alongside the sudden eerie tapping of the President's finger. Sera held in the urge to sigh as she mimicked President Snow and stared at the clock but chose not to tap her fingers against the table. She could feel the gazes of Seneca and Finnick on her as she pretended the clock cradled by the marble goddess was the most interesting piece in the room.

Seneca's impatient gaze and his slightly pink dusted cheeks caught her eye momentarily as she looked away to fix her dress again. He held up his drink as a silent toast and she smiled back before shifting her attention to the silent President.

No one made a single sound as President Snow impatiently tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair.

"...Shall we begin?" Seneca carefully pulled the net of silence as he awkwardly looked around the table.

"We might as well." Plutarch agreed. "Some of us have other schedules and places to be after this."

"Agreed," Finnick added.

President Snow looked away from the clock and turned to Finnick. "Well, that is if some of you are attending these so-called schedules." Was all he said as Sera noted the blood drain from Finnick's face and he turned paler than the sands in Four under the summer sun.

"Was that directed at me?" The sudden fear was obvious on his handsome face but he tried to wipe it away and force an overconfident smile on his face. "I've been attending most of my schedules despite being sick."

"Unless you're as sick as Seraphine, I don't see how illness is an excuse."

Finnick's gaze flickered to Sera and his eyes darkened, jaws clenching. "I was sick." He repeated. "I could hardly get out of bed."

"Of course." President Snow motioned for the dinner to begin and avoxes appeared from between the marble columns carrying trays and carts of food. "I believe that Mr Odair." He clasped his hands together and once again turned to the empty seat opposite his.

Sera frowned and she caught Seneca's gaze again as he attempted to catch President Snow's attention, accidentally catching hers. She ignored him and focused on the empty placement in front of her, wondering if she should intervene or not.

On one hand, it was obvious she shouldn't but on the other, she did feel terrible for standing at the sides and doing nothing. Maybe he was sick enough to not attend to his clients, maybe but it didn't matter to her no matter what the slight pain in her chest told her otherwise.

That was just fear for herself, not for him.

Plutarch cleared his throat. He couldn't help but pity both Sera and Finnick at that moment. Both were obvious about wanting to help the other, at least to him. Sera was quiet and pretending she hadn't heard anything the President had said since he walked in.

"It's a little rough to put someone like Seraphine as the bar for illness, Mr President." Plutarch began, ignoring Sera's and President Snow's cold gazes on him. He had to play his part too. "Seraphine is pushing herself to her limits while Finnick knows how to pace himself."

"Well, wouldn't that make Seraphine even more admirable?" Seneca chimed in, much to Plutarch's annoyance. He ignored his former apprentice and carried on.

"Seraphine is ill but she hardly takes her health into account and that's going to cost her a lot," He turned to Sera with a look of warning. His words rang in her ears, she almost wished she could cover them up and duck her head under the table. "Finnick is pacing himself even though he's not kind to the people around him, being kind to himself will help everyone around him in the long run. The same cannot be said about Seraphine."

Sera chuckled, shaking her head. There was a sudden tightness in her chest and she felt her heart drop a little as a dull ache crawled under her skin. Her vision darkened as fog covered her gaze for a second before being pulled back to reveal the sad phantom of Gaius.

"He is right, you know." Gaius raspily said to no one but Sera. "You are about to hit…your limit."

She shut her eyes and without meaning to, she dug her nails into the palm of her hands. The pain would keep the ghosts out of her head but the pain never came as she felt a hand slip into hers.

She almost gasped and pulled away but she didn't. She needed someone at that moment; her hand tightened around Finnick's who acted as if nothing was going on under the table. She couldn't help but reciprocate the action.

"Thank you for your concern, former Head Gamemaker." Sera quipped.

Plutarch raised his brow in offense and Seneca shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "He does have a point." He added.

"A point that doesn't need to be made." President Snow tapped his fingers against the table impatiently. "It'll only stress Miss Reza and besides, she is responsible enough to know what's best for her. I expect the same from Mr. Odair and all the other victors."

"Of course, Mr. President," Finnick answered dully. "I'll be sure to follow...Seraphine's lead from now on." Sera gave his hand a little squeeze.

He pulled his chair closer to the table to hide what was going on under the table.

"I don't expect you to follow her lead, I just expect you to work as you have."

President Snow's gaze hardened again as the doors opened and a very late Scarus rushed in, slowing down the closer he got to the table.

Plant Dictionary:

Orange Rose - Fascination and Desire

White Rose - Grief, Remembrance, Trust, Loyalty and Secrecy

Dahlia - Instability