chapter 7

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━━・❪ 🌸 ❫ ・━━

The carriage rumbled to a halt, then inched forward, stopped again, crept forward, another pause. Every progression towards the grand entrance to the Presidential Palace, illuminated by colorful lights for the night, sent butterflies frolicking in Daphne's gut. It was nearly their turn to disembark, when they'd step out of the carriage and up the luxurious, red carpet that was stretched across the steps and through the enormous double doors of the Palace. All on the arms of their partners.

The carriage began moving again, then stalled once more. District Nine's tributes ambled up the steps. It was District Ten's turn next.

Two staircases stretched up to the mansion, a majestic step fountain flowing between them. Daphne and Caelum would walk up the left staircase, Theron and Azalea taking the right. They were already in position, Caelum standing rigidly beside Daphne. Daphne forced her feet to stop shifting around in anticipation. As the carriage came to rest for the final time, Caelum held out an elbow. Tense yet somewhat hesitant, almost–-dare she say—shy.

Daphne slid her arm through his, feeling his muscles stiffen beneath. The carriage door swung open, a plethora of lights from flashing cameras and the surge of excited voices making it hard not to tremble.

Daphne and Caelum stepped off the carriage, moving as one as they strode up the carpeted steps. Daphne tried to smile and appear excited, clinging onto Caelum's arm as if they were simply headed to a school dance. Little did the cameras know, that point of contact was pretty much the only thing keeping her grounded in the tide of fanatics screaming out from the courtyard as they ascended the stairs.

If this was the energy that they received as one of the overlooked outlier districts, Daphne couldn't imagine how it was for the Career districts. For once, she was somewhat grateful to hail from District Ten.

She tried not to think that the massive doors of the Presidential Palace looked an awful lot like the fabled Gates of Hell as they strode inside, her calves burning from all the steps. She released a small breath, her arm relaxing ever so slightly in Caelum's grasp. They had left the crowd behind, but the cameras that lurked everywhere she looked didn't give her any more relief.

The black flats embedded with tiny diamonds that Daphne wore on her feet thudded softly against the velvet red carpet, which stretched on through the hallway. The majestic walls were covered with paintings depicting the Dark Days; mostly the slaughter of thousands of rebels and the Capitol reigning supreme with presidents painted in godly manners.

Yet another reminder to the citizens who watched at home that their ancestors one-hundred-fifty years ago had brought this upon themselves.

The entrance to the Banquet room was a grand, elegant golden archway. It didn't quite look like much from the outside, which was why Daphne froze in her tracks upon entering.

The ceiling... she couldn't tell if it was just diamonds embedded into the dome that stretched overhead or if it didn't have a ceiling at all, and she was just looking up at the night sky. Either way, it was breathtaking. Her eyes immediately began searching for constellations upon muscle memory, after the countless nights back home she'd spent charting the stars.

Caelum gave a light tug with his arm, reminding her to keep walking to their assigned table. Daphne tore her gaze from above and took in the rest of the room as they continued down the carpet, eventually branching off to one of the elegant, moonlit tables designated for their district.

Daphne sat down, her intricately carved ivory chair squeaking awkwardly as she untwined her arm from Caelum's. Theron and Azalea were seated at the table beside them, Theron still winking at the girls from District Nine. Daphne could feel the stare of the thirty-six tributes who had arrived prior. They were all making mental notes of who paired up with who for potential alliances in the Games.

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐒 | hunger games ✓Where stories live. Discover now