Chapter 6

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Morning light streams through the gaps in the curtain, forcefully waking me. Sitting up, I rub the sleep from my eyes using the heel of my palm. The unexpected sound of steady breathing sends me into a state of momentary paralysis. I regain enough sense to turn my head in the direction of the sound. Over by the couch is a sleeping figure. It's all I can do not to scream bloody murder right there and then. Why on Earth is there someone in my room?

Not taking my eyes off the sight of the slightly lanky figure reclining rather uncomfortably in the sofa, I reach blindingly for the hairbrush on the bedside table should the need for a weapon become necessary. After about a minute I still remain without a weapon. Getting frustrated, I look at the side table expecting to see the Capitol hairbrush and my mockingjay pin, only to see a pawn piece from a chess set in their place.

Upon closer inspection the pawn piece is made of wood, handcrafted with such skill and perfection. The wood is a golden brown colour.

Eyes flicking a couple of times from the pawn to the sleeping form on the couch, realisation hits me like a struck of a lightning bolt. No stranger is in my room. In fact, no one is there at all. I'm the one who intruded into another person's room.

With that realisation comes the sudden need to leave. Placing the pawn piece back down and then practically hopping out of the bed, I swiftly cross the room. Once safely out in the hall, I quietly close the door. My tense body relaxes, feeling safe, until I turn around and give a tiny yelp of surprise and stumble back against the wall. He's as silent as a ghost, I think, heart hammering.

"You were in there the entire night?" Konrad nods meaningfully at the name plaque I missed last night due to the darkness. The doors to each of our rooms have been nailed with our names in fancy calligraphy.

I shake my head vigorously. "No. We were merely discussing potential strategies for the private session with the Gamemakers."

At this point a particularly loud snore sounds from behind the door. I cringe internally, hoping against hope that Konrad didn't hear it. He does.

Any opportunity of steering the conversation elsewhere and distracting Konrad vanishes before it even presents itself when he speaks first. "Look, how you kids choose to spend the night together is scarcely my problem. Just remember it may seem like a good idea fraternising with someone you may ultimately end up facing off with in the arena. But it's not."

Stumbling over my words, I continue shaking my head, trying to explain to Konrad that his assumption is utterly wrong. "No, you're completely misinterpreting the situation. It's-" Before another word can be hopelessly stammered out, an Avox appears and hands Konrad a letter. He reads it and then turns back towards me.

"My sincerest apologies, Maysilee, but I'm needed elsewhere. Urgent business of the tedious kind, you see. Anyway, I'll see you at breakfast," Konrad says. Without further explanation, he walks the length of the corridor before turning a corner.

With a resigned sigh I head back to my proper chambers. I close the door and lean back against it, exhaling once very deeply. Looking down I realised my shoes have been left in the other room. Great.

Within mere minutes I'm standing under a steaming hot shower, scrubbing in grape-scented foamy soap furiously. It is in the shower that vague memories of last night become clearer.

A memory of being shaken awake appears. The strong scent of fresh lemon lime that could only have come from one of the many soaps offered in the shower. Then a voice saying, 'You're in the wrong room, Donner. Get up.' To which there is a mumbled response of, 'Not yet, Edith, five more minutes.' An unmistakeable sound of stifled laugher, then a dramatic sigh, is soon followed by a, 'Just this once. This had better not become a regular thing.'

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