HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 26

When her silence presumably stretched too long for his patience, Snow prompted, "All together? Scattered amongst our other distinguished guests? Who shall be nearest to them?"

What does it matter? Lilith asked herself. He seemed to be driving at something here—rather than just her into a corner—but what was it?

"Will you seat someone from the districts at the same table as the president? As me, the Head Gamemaker? As your father?" Lilith thought she had finally gotten his drift when Snow said, "Not everyone regards district the way you do. In fact, I think it's safe to say you're the exception to the rule.

"If you don't already know, which I believe you do, only you don't quite recognize its severity: For most in the Capitol, district is not something they fancy being associated with, especially on a social level. It doesn't reflect well, to say the least. Even if you can somehow disregard their penury, their savagery, they can never be our equal. If people were to find out district citizens have been invited to the same gala as them, what do you think is going to happen?"

It wasn't rhetorical, but this time, he seemed to trust she had arrived at the answer in her head, because Lilith hadn't spoken of the potential backlash and boycotting when he did.

"Practically every big shot in the city will be there. Their attendance, and therefore their donations, will make or break the next Games—probably a few Games to come, to be honest. I imagine you don't mean to be the reason we have to pull the plug on Miss Click's arenas?" Lilith gulped again at this. Snow didn't look like he cared, though she was pretty confident he had intended for her very reaction. "The gala committee has put their heart and soul into organizing this event, no less. Do you think it's fair to them if the whole thing turns out to be a flop?"

"But these aren't district citizens. Not just district citizens," Lilith added hastily, as she received a cutting look from Snow. "These are Hunger Games victors, and this is a Hunger Games event. These are people we've rooted for. That must count for something."

Studying her awhile, Snow gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Well, I'm not part of the gala committee—I'm only Head Gamemaker. Since you're so adamant, I'll set you up with the committee's head. If you're able to convince her, I won't stand in your way." Without pending her consent, Snow pressed a rectangular grey button on the telephone decorating the corner of his mahogany desk. "Gaia, would you please see if Cora's available to come to my office? It's about the gala."

"Of course," replied his assistant's rich voice.

As the line was put on hold, a soft, classical tune enveloped them. Lilith, however, felt her stomach plummet as if it was the ominous crash of china and she was surrounded instead by a million and one irreparable shards of intricately-painted porcelain.

"Right now?" Her squeaky, almost trembling tone couldn't have contrasted Gaia Penworth's more.

"Why not?" asked Snow. "You were ready to convince me. And it seems like you're determined to do nothing else until then. Why not make the most of your momentum?"

The elegant music halted abruptly, and it wasn't long—it was much too soon, actually—after they had been informed "she's on her way" when there was a knock on the door. Snow bid her enter, and into the room strode the attention-dominating form of none other than Cora Middleton.

Even in a flannel shirt and jeans she was gorgeous. Curtains of her hair, as dark and sleek as Criseida's, fell around her diamond face in loose, defined waves; her bangs still maintaining that perfect curve, as if fresh out of a roller, even though it was nearly the end of the day. With her fair, translucent skin, she could pass off as Archie's older sister—not because she looked old, but because she radiated this aura of maturity that was the envy of all teens.