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Twelve: Patrons

Charlotte could feel a burning heat rising in her cheeks as she walked through the doors to the ballroom in the Old School. Hundreds of faces swivelled to face her. Greedy, fascinated and judging eyes turned on her, looking her up and down. She felt self-conscious in her silver-blue dress. It was becoming too tight on her chest, constricting her breathing.

"It's a game," James whispered into her ear, the first words he had said to her all night.

Charlotte glanced at him, frustrated by his moods. He seemed to be able to look past the patrons, his gaze searching for something, but bored with what he found. His indifference to the crowd offered him an air of grace that she had never seen in him before. He seemed calm and relaxed, powerful almost.

He had waited for her outside the ballroom as she had made slow progress down from her room in the tight bodice and flowing skirts of her dress.

Evie, a Forgotten assigned to look after the Head Students, had spent hours preparing her for the banquet. She had pulled out fancy dress after fancy dress from the wardrobe in Charlotte's room. Charlotte had never looked into it, stocked as it was with dresses and ball gowns of every colour. Everything to make her look appealing.

Elmhirst wanted her to look her best for the patrons, and Evie had was proficient at doing just that. Charlotte hadn't recognised the face in the mirror when Evie had finished.

Sapphires, the same colour as her eyes, hung against her neck and from her ears. Her hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders. Her dress had a wide skirt and layers of material that made it difficult to walk and breathe. She looked like a doll. She didn't look real. She didn't look dangerous.

As she had reached James, her shoes muffled against the soft carpet, his green eyes were clear for once. He was wearing a smart, black dinner jacket, and a bow tie. His blonde hair had been brushed into place and he had even smiled when he saw her. Yet he had not said anything to her and Charlotte was sure it was to be another evening of awkward silence.

"How can you be so calm, as if you don't care that they are watching you?" Charlotte replied, her voice low.

They moved between the tables of the ballroom towards Elmhirst, standing at the Dais at the far end of the room. He looked at her with clouded green eyes for a moment before responding.

"I've had years of practice being what they want me to be. Anyway, they should be in awe of us. We are different; we are spectacular".

Charlotte bit her tongue and forced herself not to roll her eyes at him.

"Are you always this self-congratulating?" she said with a serene smile, but her words were biting.

He laughed, dismissing her.

"Look, Charlotte, if you believe you are the wonder they want you to be, they will believe it too. It's a mind game - a game we need to win. You said it yourself. It just goes so much further than the tournaments. Everything we do has to be a thought out move. If we are to survive we have to win".

She tried not to frown, tried not to give away what she was thinking but it was so hard when his attitude had changed completely in twenty-four hours.

"Why are you being like this?"

"Being like what?" he asked raising an eyebrow, as they approached Elmhirst.

Charlotte pursed her lips, trying to think of the right words.

"Talking to me?" she said.

James' perfect mask faltered for a moment, his cheeks blushing, his jaw gritted.