¹ THRONE ─ the hunger games

[ 013 ] kiss the ring and let 'em bow down

In a handful of hours, they'd turned her into this magnificent, ethereal creature pulled from a fairytale. Cold to the touch, but untouchable still, and sharp as knives. Iko couldn't believe it. Struck dumb with shock, she pushed her shoulders back, turned from side to side, taking her time to inspect Janus and the prep team's handiwork, and her reflection turned too, the backless dress gleaming under the light, a mirage of everything she could only have for a night. This was her. This couldn't be her. But it was. In some perfect universe, she looked like this forever. In some perfect universe, she was beautiful, a ruler of the starry abyss.

"I take it from your reaction that I've outdone myself again," Janus mused, uncrossing his arms from over his chest as he smirked at her. He put one hand on the doorknob. "Ready?"

Ready? Iko wanted to laugh. Her readiness had been years in the forging. One more night in false security, and then it would be her turn to bring home the crown. It would be her they would cheer for when she got home. It would be her name branded in history. She was so close. So excruciatingly close to her time, she could already smell the blood. Feel the cool touch of a weapon in her hand. Hear the sound of skin tearing, a heart stopping as she slips her knife between someone's ribs.

"Always," Iko said, satisfaction flexing its claws in her chest.

Janus let out a dark chuckle. "Oh, I know you are."

And then he opened the door.

When they met up with the District 2 team by the elevator, Aeneas was practically glowing with excitement, Rhea couldn't stop grinning, Enobaria and Evander were dressed to the nines as well, and Alex had his back to her so she could see the intricate gold designs sewn into the collar of his suit. Aeneas' vibrant eyes landed on her first, and he let out a small scream. Just as he launched into a feverishly animated tirade about how beautiful they both looked, how stunning the stylists and the prep teams' work was, showering them with compliments like rose petals while Evander pitched in every once in awhile and Enobaria nodded along but said nothing, Alex turned around, his gaze meeting hers. He did a double take.

For a second, the words seemed to have evaporated from his tongue as he took her in with a slow once-over. For a second, his stare burned into her cool flesh and her eyes were twin scythes that cut him down to the bone. They'd slicked his hair back, and yet some of it had managed to escape the abundance of hairspray keeping every strand in place. If he were anyone else, it would be less endearing and more unkempt disaster, but Alex made it work with his casual charm. If Iko looked like a dark princess from a fairytale, he looked like a prince. There was no denying that Alex was beautiful. And now he was shining.

"Look at you," Alex rasped, when he'd found his voice again. His amber eyes were radiant, but he was unsmiling. Maybe if she looked closer she could've sworn those were actual stars in his irises instead of a reflection of her dress.

Iko bit down on her tongue to keep her mouth from voicing the sounds of her heart. Neither of them would look anything like this in the days to come, which was both a pity and a massive relief. Her heels were already making her feet hurt enough for her to want to take her sharpened nails into the person who'd invented such impractical monstrosities, and the sooner they were off, the less murderous she would be.

Remember, her mother's voice in the back of her head warned like an invisible hand snuck through her hair and tugging sharply, You are a Career. You are heartless. You are cold. You are deadly. All that matters is the Games. Do not let petty distractions take this from you.

Alex blinked, and seemed to remember himself, a shadow passing over his features. A teasing smile tugged at his lips. "You're tall now."

That did it.