The 'Flower of Panem' or 'The 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 ev...
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Night had arrived with in a blink of an eye. Skies were dark and the smell of petrichor was faint in the air. The windows were still stained with raindrops from the evening downpour. Sera stood in the center of her room, looking out at the window.
Her stylist team buzzed around her like bees busy at work. Rietta grabbed her face gently and worked to make her look flawless while natural. Every second, she would take a step back and squint her white eyes to scrutinize her work before going back to add more.
Behind her, Harp worked her magic as she worked to style her short hair in a simple yet intricate manner. When she was done, she moved aside.
Eos stood on the side and hummed lightly as she held up a short silvery-white silk dress with petal sleeves that seemed to flutter in the wind. The dress was embroidered in a pearlescent thread and beaded with colorful gems that reminded her of the solar panels in her district when the sun shone on it. It was pretty but Sera could tell that dress would be heavy. She paused in her thoughts and scanned her team quickly.
Someone was missing.
Ovid.
She remembered.
Her eyes wandered around the large bedroom and found no sight of the azure haired assistant head stylist. She turned to Eos, giving her a questioning look. Eos simply shrugged. It seemed even the head stylist didn't know where her second-in-charge had run off to in this crucial time. She wasn't happy about, Sera could see the slight anger on Eos' face clear as day.
The stylist quietly grumbled under her breath as Rietta ran around trying to cover Ovid's tasks, hovering around Sera to check on her. She stepped back and bunched her lavender hair in her hands, putting it in a bun. Turning to Eos, Rietta took a step back before helping Sera into the dress.
On the side, Harp also moved to cover one of the other tasks of Ovid. The bird-like woman sat on the floor of Sera's temporary bedroom and worked on carefully prepping her shoes. Sera watched from a distance as Harp carefully laid down small jewels on the long silver strings of the shoes.
"We don't have that long." Huxley muttered to the group, just loud enough for the group to hear. The moment everyone heard his words, they scuttled around trying to get Sera ready even faster.
Emilia rolled her eyes at Huxley. The escort leaned against the tall windows with one of her feet up against the glass pane. Behind her, the sun was being consumed by the tall Capitol buildings.
For Sera, the view was beautiful. The yellows, reds, purples and blues all mixed together on the painted sky, if only it wasn't the Capitol.
"Ah. Don't rush perfection, Huxley dear." Her eyes were trained on the team. It was clear that the absence of Ovid might've made difficulties for the team but for the escort, it was a different story. Although, the mood in the room was far lighter without Ovid around. "Besides, we have an hour or two to kill."
