The Girl Who Sparked the Capitol - Book 2 - Peeta

Chapter 15

Having been through the prep with Falvius, Venia, and Octavia numerous times, it should just be an old routine to survive. But Alessia hasn't anticipated the emotional ordeal that awaits her. At some point during the prep, each of them bursts into tears at least twice, and Octavia pretty much keeps up a running whimper throughout the morning. It turns out they really have become attached to Alessia, and the idea of her returning to the arena has undone them. Combine that with the fact that by losing her they'll be losing their ticket to all kinds of big social events, particularly her wedding, and the whole thing becomes unbearable. The idea of being strong for someone else has never entered their head, and Alessia finds herself in the position of having to console them. Since she's the person going in to be slaughtered, this is somewhat annoying.

It's interesting, though, when Alessia thinks of what Peeta said about the attendant on the train being unhappy about the victors having to fight again. About people in the Capitol not liking it. Alessia still thinks all of that will be forgotten once the gong sounds, but it's something of a revelation that those in the Capitol feel anything at all about them. They certainly don't have a problem watching children murdered every year. But maybe they know too much about the victors, especially the ones who've been celebrities for ages, to forget that they're human beings. It's more like watching your own friends die. More like the Games for those in the districts.

By the time Cinna shows up, Alessia is irritable and exhausted from comforting the prep team, especially because their constant tears are reminding her of the ones undoubtedly being shed at home. Standing there in her thin robe with her stinging skin and heart, she knows she can't bear even one more look of regret. So the moment he walks in the door Alessia snaps, "I swear if you cry, I'll kill you here and now."

Cinna just smiles. "Had a damp morning?"

"You could wring me out," Alessia replies.

Cinna puts his arm around her shoulder and leads her to lunch. "Don't worry. I always channel my emotions into my work. That way I don't hurt anyone but myself."

"I can't go through that again," Alessia warns him.

"I know. I'll talk to them," says Cinna.

Lunch makes her feel a bit better. Pheasant with a selection of jewel-colored jellies, tiny versions of real vegetables swimming in butter, and potatoes mashed with parsley. For dessert, they dip chunks of fruit in a pot of melted chocolate and Cinna has to order a second pot because Alessia starts just eating the stuff with a spoon.

"So, what are we wearing for the opening ceremonies?" Alessia finally asks as she scrapes the second pot clean. "Headlamps or fire?" She knows the chariot ride will require Peeta and her to be dressed in something coal related.

"Something along that line," he says.

When it's time to get in costume for the opening ceremonies, her prep team shows up but Cinna sends them away, saying they've done such a spectacular job in the morning, there's nothing left to do. They go off to recover, thankfully leaving Alessia in Cinna's hands. He puts up her hair first, in the braided style that became iconic, then proceeds with her makeup. Last year he used little so that the audience would recognize her when she landed in the arena. But now her face is almost obscured by the dramatic highlights and dark shadows. High arching eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, smoldering eyes, deep purple lips. The costume looks deceptively simple at first, just a fitted black jumpsuit that covers her from the neck down with a skirt added. He places a half crown like the one she received as a victor on her head, but it's made of a heavy black metal, not gold. Then he adjusts the light in the room to mimic twilight and presses a button just inside the fabric on her wrist. She looks down, fascinated, as her ensemble slowly comes to life, first with a soft golden light but gradually transforming to the orange-red of burning coal. She looks as if she has been coated in glowing embers- no, that she is a glowing ember straight from their fireplace. The colors rise and fall, shift and blend, in exactly the way the coals do.