Victor by Night | Finnick Odair

Avenge Him : 11

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, we're roused by my prep team. The sight of Finnick and me sleeping together is too much for Auricula, because she bursts into tears right away.

"You remember what Danno told us," Thalia says fiercely. Auricula nods and goes out sobbing. "We'll need to dress you for the special night," Thalia smiles.

Finnick smiles wistfully at the girls, making each of them break out into a blush. "Alright, I know when I'm not welcome," he winks at them. "I'll see you, soon," he says gently to me, pressing his soft lips to my forehead.

Finnick has to return to his room for prep, and I'm left alone with Thalia and Volumnia. The usual chatter has been suspended. In fact, there's little talk at all, other than to have me raise my chin or comment on a makeup technique, or question Finnick and I's relationship.

It's nearly lunch when I feel something dripping on my shoulder and turn to find Volumnia, who's snipping away at my hair with silent tears running down her face. Thalia gives her a look, and she gently sets the scissors on the table and leaves.

And then it's just Thalia, whose skin is so pale her tattoos appear to be leaping off it. Almost rigid with determination, she does my hair and nails and makeup, fingers flying swiftly to compensate for her absent teammates. The whole time, she avoids my gaze.

It's only when Danno shows up to approve me and dismiss her that she takes my hands, looks me straight in the eye, and says, "We would all like you to know what a ... privilege it has been to make you look your best." Then she hastens from the room.

My prep team. My foolish, shallow, affectionate pets, with their obsessions with feathers and parties, nearly break my heart with their goodbye. It's certain from Thalia's last words that we all know I won't be returning.

Does the whole world know it? I wonder.

I look at Danno. He knows, certainly. But as he promised, there's no danger of tears from him.

"So, what am I wearing tonight?" I ask, eyeing the garment bag that holds my dress.

"Helped design it myself," says Danno. He unzips the bag to reveal a heavy white silk with a low neckline and tight waist and sleeves, with blue lightning strikes scattered from bottom to top. "We made it especially for the Victor's Ball, but president says you're to wear it tonight. Our objections were ignored."

I rub a bit of the silk between my fingers, trying to figure out President Snow's reasoning. I suppose since I was one of the greatest offenders, my pain and loss and humiliation should be in the brightest spotlight. This, he thinks, will make that clear. The future I will never have.

It's so barbaric, the president turning my Victor's gown into my shroud, that the blow strikes home, leaving me with a dull ache inside. "Well, it'd be a shame to waste such a pretty dress," is all I say.

Danno helps me carefully into the gown. As it settles on my shoulders, I can't give a single shrug of complaint. It fits and flows beautifully. He decks me out in shoes and jewelry and my crown from the parade, that's already glowing electric blue. He touched up my makeup. Has me walk.

"You're ravishing," he says. "Any plans for your interview? I know Eero left you two to your own devices," he says.

"No, this year I'm just winging it. The funny thing is, I'm not nervous at all." And I'm not. However much President Snow may hate me, the People of Panem adore me ten times greater. This Capitol audience is mine.

We meet up with Eero, Portia, and Gerard at the elevator. Gerard's in an elegant tuxedo, scattered with lightning, and white gloves.

The other tributes have already gathered offstage and are talking softly, but when Gerard and I arrive, they fall silent. I realize everyone's staring daggers at my dress. Are they jealous of its beauty? The power it might have to manipulate the crowd?