Deja Vu Battle | Hunger Game 3 (Part 1)

18.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒'𝕤 delicate voice filled the room, breaking the stillness with her careful words. "They do have Havensbee with them," she articulated, her thoughtful gaze fixed on some distant point. "I can't help but think it won't be long before something of significance unfolds on television. The powers that be will undoubtedly leverage Katniss's presence, weaving her into the narrative as a symbol of hope for a future tethered to their cause."

With a deliberate return to her plate, Estella chose to refocus her attention on the task at hand – cutting through the meat on her plate. She remained seemingly oblivious to the intensity of President Snow's stare, which bore into her like a laser. The clinking of cutlery and the low hum of distant conversations served as a backdrop to the unfolding drama.

As minutes ticked away, or perhaps more, President Snow remained preoccupied, engrossed in delivering meticulous instructions to his secretary about the intricacies of his upcoming press engagements. The controlled chaos of the moment created a surreal atmosphere, punctuated only by the distant murmur of voices.

Amidst this orchestrated commotion, Estella's acute senses picked up on a subtle, nervous hiccup emanating from someone seated directly in front of her. It was none other than President Snow's niece, a figure Estella had encountered only once before at a glamorous soirée organized to introduce her to the public. Now, as they found themselves in close proximity, a silent exchange unfolded between them.

In this poignant moment of silent observation, Estella absorbed every nuance of the child's features, which held an uncanny resemblance to Susan, triggering a wave of longing for her own family. The intricacies of the child's expression mirrored the innocence Estella missed, prompting a cascade of questions within her – were her family members safe? Were they enduring in a world far removed from the political machinations and power struggles consuming her present reality?

The uncertainty loomed, casting a shadow over the seemingly composed atmosphere in the room, as Estella navigated the delicate balance between the political theater and the yearning for familial connection.

The intensity of Estella's unwavering stare bore down upon the young girl, prompting her to glance up cautiously. The child's attempt to do so subtly was evident, a desperate effort not to draw her grandfather's attention toward them. In that fleeting exchange of gazes, Estella discerned a less-than-favorable impression reflected in the child's eyes. The young one whimpered in fear, her gaze quickly retreating to her plate, revealing a discomfort that lingered in the air.

Sighing audibly, Estelle felt a pang of remorse and chose to distance herself from the child, opting to avoid any further discomfort. The tranquil ambiance of the lunch scene, however, was short-lived, disrupted by the entrance of a new figure into the room, holding a mysterious tea cup. This enigmatic newcomer, unmistakably an Avox based on the conspicuous lack of mouth movement and eye contact, traversed the room with an air of quiet mystery. His gaze remained fixated on the floor as he approached Estella, presenting a tray with the tea cup within her reach.

Suspicion crept into Estella's expression as she eyed the peculiar offering, contemplating its potential implications. Before she could voice her skepticism, President Snow intervened, revealing a shocking revelation that rippled through the room. "It's poison-infused," he declared, casting an air of gravity over the unsuspecting lunch gathering. The revelation left Estella, and everyone else, dumbfounded, yet she maintained her composure, silently awaiting an explanation.

President Snow, seemingly indifferent to the collective shock, delved into a sinister revelation. "While you were ill, I took it upon myself to dose you every week," he disclosed, his attention more fixated on the papers in his hands than the reactions around him. When his gaze finally met Estella's, he continued with a twisted sense of rationale, "Don't take it personally. You're like a bird that I admire, and I'm implying the clipping of your wings to ensure you don't fly away."

Estella furrowed her brow, a mix of disbelief and indignation clouding her expression. She bit her tongue, resisting the urge to retaliate, recognizing President Snow's cunning test of loyalty. In a moment of tense deliberation, she took a deep breath, acutely aware of the audible gasp escaping the lips of the President's niece. With a single determined gulp, Estella swallowed the poisoned tea, the room hanging in suspense.

The collective gaze of everyone in the room remained fixed on the intense eye contact shared between Estella and President Snow, creating a palpable tension that lingered in the air. An entire minute seemed to stretch into eternity as the two locked eyes, exchanging unspoken messages that only they could decipher. The weight of the moment bore down on them, a silent battle of wills playing out before the captive audience.

As the seconds ticked by, Estella's composure wavered, giving way to a sudden and violent bout of coughing that seized her. The sound echoed in the hushed room, each cough reverberating through the tense atmosphere. With a sense of urgency, Estella extended her trembling hand to accept a napkin offered by the President's niece, the room holding its breath in anticipation of the unfolding events.

With the napkin pressed to her mouth, Estella coughed into it, the intensity of her spasms causing a chilling realization. A crimson stain marred the pristine whiteness of the napkin, a stark visual representation of the severity of her condition. The room, once frozen in anticipation, erupted into a symphony of gasps and whispers as onlookers processed the alarming sight.

President Snow, maintaining a stoic exterior, seized the moment to deliver a cold revelation that sent shivers down the spines of those present. "I increased the dose," he declared, his words hanging ominously in the air. He justified his malevolent actions with an unsettling calmness, uttering, "Your body needs to get used to it," as if the poisoning was a twisted form of acclimatization.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶