t h i r t e e n

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I didn't have much time to feel ashamed or worried, all things considered. My maids dress me the next morning without a hint of worry, I assume my presence downstairs will be welcome. Even allowing me to come to breakfast at all shows a hint of kindness in Peeta that I haven't been excepting: I get one last meal, a last moment as one of the beautiful Selected.

We were halfway through breakfast before Delly works up the courage to ask me about me and Peeta's date.

"How was it?" she asks quietly, the way we're meant to speak at mealtimes. But those three small words make ears all up and down the table perk up, and everyone within hearing distance is paying attention.

I take a breath. "Indescribable." The girls look at one another, clearly wanting more.

"How did he act?" Johanna asks.

"Umm." I try to choose my words carefully. "Not at all how I expected he would." This time, little murmurs go down the table.

"Are you being like that on purpose?" Raven, who's a few seats down asks. "If you are it's awfully mean."

I shake my head. How can I explain this? "No, it's just that-"

But, I'm spared by having to answer by confusing noises coming down the hallway. The shouts are strange. In my very short time at the palace so far, not a single sound had registered as anything close to loud. Beyond that, there's a musical click of guards shoes on the floor, the massive doors opening and closing, forks touch the plates. This is complete mayhem. The royal family seems to understand it before the rest of us.

"To the back of the room, ladies!" King Harry yells, and runs over to a window.

Girls, confused but not wanting to disobey, slowly move towards the head table. The king and queen pull down shades on windows, but they aren't the typical light filtering kind. They're metal and squeal into place. Beside, him, Peeta helps draw them down too.

That's when a wave of guards make it into the dining hall. I saw a number of them lining up outside the room just before the monstrous doors were closed, bolted, and secured with bars.

"They're inside the walls, Majesty, but we're holding them back. The ladies should leave, but we're so close to the door-"

"Understood, Markson," the king replies, cutting off the guards sentence.

It didn't take more than that for me to comprehend. There are rebels inside the grounds. I'd figured this would happen. With so many guests in the palace, so many preparations going on. Surely someone would miss something somewhere, and our safety would slip. And even if there isn't an easy way in, now would be an excellent time to mount a protest. At the barest of bones, the Selection is kind of disturbing. I'm sure the rebels hate it along with everything else about Panem.

But whatever their opinion, I'm not going down quietly. I push my chair back so quickly it almost falls over, and I run to the closest window to pull down the metal shade. A few other girls who understand how threatened we are do the same.

It only takes me a moment to get the thing down, but locking it into place is a little harder. I manage to get the latch right when something crashes into the metal plate from outside of the palace, causing me to go screaming backwards. I trip over a fallen chair and tumble to the ground.

Peeta appears immediately. "Are you hurt?"

I do a quick evaluation. I probably have a bruised hip, and I'm scared, but that's the worst of it.

"No, I'm fine."

"To the back of the room. Now!" he orders as he helps me off the ground. He races down the hall, ushering girls who had frozen up in fear to the back.

imperfect fit ; an everlark au based off of 'the selection' seriesWhere stories live. Discover now