Reprisal

CHAPTER NINE | PART ONE

     Blue eyes deliberately meet brown in the slew of the crowd, everyone sitting around the finely clothed table.

"I'll be back in just a moment." Tawny says to her husband, not even bothering sitting down beside him before she's darting toward the back of the restaurant, the blonde Snow on her heels.

Tawny's fingers hurriedly pluck the emerald cut diamond from her ring finger, the dim lighting of the women's powder room lending enough privacy in the corner that her exchange with Tigris isn't noticed by either of the two strangers talking to one another across the room.

Her own wedding ring is replaced, Tigris tucking Livia's into her small clutch.

"Thank you." Tawny can't say it enough, embarrassed to even have to do this, but Tigris is kind, and very good at minding her own business – keeping a neutral stance as best as she can as she softly smiles and nods, whispering, "Just please be more careful."

She despises the thought of Tawny and her cousin being caught up in a scandal, the citizens of the Capitol oh so good at sinking their teeth into garbage and chattering on about it to no end.

"We are." Tawny assures her in the same tone, though the words in itself is a contradiction as the two women step back into the lavish dining room of the restaurant, Dyess drunkenly outstretching his arms, piping, "There she is!"

Smoke curls from Strabo Plinth's cigar, Ma and Minerva in their continued conversation from the drive over, giving Tawny's father the opportunity to finally chat Coriolanus up.

The string of tiny diamonds that cascade from Tawny's earlobes catch the light, she and Tigris both in deep red colors, holding Coriolanus' attention as she sits down next to her husband, who presses a kiss to her cheek, hugging at her shoulder.

He'd started drinking two hours before they'd even left.

" . . . All of our boys ended up in four different districts," Tiberius continues his conversation with Snow, the two having been speaking about the military, Snow's father, Tiberius' time, and his sons. "Cyrus, Cicero, and Consus were the eldests – triplets. Cyrus was in Six, Cicero was in Nine, Consus had gone to Eight. And then Magnus, the baby brother, was in Three." He explains. "Me and your father were shipped off to Twelve – worst one there is in my opinion. If I'd heard correctly, that's where you went, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir, I did some of basic in Twelve." Snow informs him, sharing the sentiment for the scummy, impoverished district completely. "For a few months, at least. Dr. Gaul fished me out almost as soon as I got in."

"You served?" Minerva questions, furrowing her brows as she eyes him where he sits next to her husband.

"Peacekeeper. Never saw any real combat, however. Just bar fights." He replies, his words sending a chuckle through the table.

"Is there a uniform somewhere . . . ?" Minerva asks, next, slightly suggestively.

His eyes flicker to Tawny, who's trying not to stare at him, unable to scold her mother for the question, because she herself is also thinking it.

" . . . And if so, might I see you in it?" Boldly suggestively.

"Mother!" Tawny tries to scold her, but she can't do it too badly because she laughs , having drank more than usual herself before leaving, as well.

"What?" Minerva asks, innocently. "He wouldn't have to keep it on for long."

Tiberius rubs his forehead, finding some humor in his wife's blatant request, but doesn't want to entertain it, while Strabo and Ma laugh as Tawny reaches across the table and plucks her mother's drink from in front of her, half-jokingly stating, "You've had too much of this!" only for her mother to swat her hand and take it back.