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The next day was filled with preparations for the upcoming tribute interviews. Since nobody specifically requested to be trained separately, the four tributes were forced to endure four whole hours with Iskra going over presentation. That included how to walk, sit, smile, talk, and even make eye contact properly. Daphne had no idea everything would be so complicated.

Or painful. After earning multiple nasty bruises and embarrassing falls, Iskra decided that Daphne was a lost cause with high heels. She'd also endured several sharp slaps from Iskra across her back whenever she slouched.

Theron passed Iskra's expectations with flying colors, his natural swagger doing him favors. Azalea had an easy grace that made Daphne want to shove her over. Caelum also had a tendency to slouch, yet Daphne noticed Iskra whack him noticeably lighter than she did her. She had a feeling Iskra just enjoyed inflicting pain on her out of spite for the time Daphne snapped at her on the train.

By the time they settled down for lunch, Daphne's feet were throbbing and her back ached from being held pencil-straight for hours.

After eating, they had another four hours of preparation. This time, it was with Theia, so slightly more bearable. They went over strategies to win the crowd, build their personalities. Theia preferred to see everyone individually, an hour dedicated to each. She specifically requested to coach Daphne last, which meant Daphne had a full three hours of uninterrupted free time.

Daphne wasn't sure what to do with that time. Azalea was called in first, leaving her an hour with Caelum and Theron. She joked around with Theron for a good amount of time, swapping dry banter about everything from Iskra's extreme eyelash game to Mr. Todders back at school.

Caelum joined in a couple times, mostly when Theron brought up mutual friends, but Daphne noticed he only seemed to laugh at Theron's jokes. Whenever she would say something, he'd mutter a quick response, then fall silent. It drove her crazy, but she was used to it at this point. He was probably just suffering from reading withdrawals, since he hadn't touched a book in days.

Daphne thought back to the times when everything was normal. When Caelum would be buried in a novel every minute he could afford. When she'd watch him from afar, wishing she could sit and read beside him, both of them lost in a world of their own. Could it really have only been a week ago when she was still taking her sheep out every morning, selling plums at the market with Lysa and Tobe?

After Azalea was done, it was Caelum's turn. Daphne and Theron resumed their exchange of stupid jokes, but eventually, both of them quickly grew bored. Azalea went up to her room, locking herself in. Daphne didn't hear a sound from behind the door that suggested what she might've been up to. Perhaps she fell asleep.

Daphne was debating sneaking into Azalea's room with a pen and drawing mustaches and other crude things across her face when Theron was called. Daphne hurried into her own room before Caelum appeared, just to avoid the awkwardness of having the two of them alone in the sitting room.

She ordered herself a plate of xiǎo lóng bāo, little soup-filled dumplings that were a traditional food of the eastern continent where her family had originally hailed from. Esther used to cook them whenever Rourke made some extra coin at the market. They were Daphne's favorite.

These xiǎo lóng bāo tasted infinitely better than the cheap ones they could afford back home. Yet somehow, Daphne found herself longing for those ones instead. Those dumplings meant family, love. Life. And she would never taste Esther's cooking again.

Suddenly, her appetite vanished. She set the plate aside, then curled up in bed clutching her pendant.

Theia summoned her before long, and she must've drifted off since she awoke to a glass of water by her bedside and her abandoned plate of xiǎo lóng bāo reheated. Every morning, she'd been waking up to a fresh drink of water on her nightstand without having to ask for one. It was probably a courtesy by the Avoxes. She made a note to thank them for it later.

Theia was in the private room when Daphne arrived. Theia's smile didn't meet her eyes. "Trust me, today's been as tiring for me as it has been for you."

"I'm actually fine, thanks." Daphne said. It wasn't entirely a lie. "I just took a nap, drank some water. There's an Avox who keeps bringing me a glass whenever I'm asleep. This time, they even reheated some of my food."

Theia's head tilted to the side. "Oh really? That's nice of them."

"They don't do so for you, too?"

"I'm afraid not, though I suppose I could always request it."

Before Daphne could think too much about it, Theia jumped right into the subject matter: Daphne. How she was to portray herself to all of Panem. Her mind drifted to possibilities. Would she be quiet? Calm and collected? Or perhaps boisterous and outgoing. Eccentric? Promiscuous? She was none of those things. In fact, now that she thought about it, she wasn't even sure what she was.

"Here's how we're going to do this." Theia said, gesturing to a chair across from her. Daphne sat down. "I'm going to ask you questions that Flickerman might say, and you answer the way you want. We'll go from there."

Daphne nodded, squaring her shoulders like the way Iskra had hammered into her brain.

By the time the session ended, Daphne was feeling confident. She knew what she was going to do tomorrow night, what persona she'd have to play up.

The prospect of an actual plan, of a set outcome she could actually control was calming to her. Maybe it's because deep down, she knew she had limited of those going forward.

Daphne's prep team woke her up unceremoniously early the next morning. Apparently, it took the entire damn day to make her camera-ready for the interviews that night. She barely saw Caelum, Azalea or Theron throughout the day.

Daphne had to give it to Marv: her dress was gorgeous. The bodice hugged her torso, made of a pale pink fabric so soft it seemed to have been made from flower petals. It was held up by two thin straps crisscrossing her chest, joined in the center by a glimmering maroon gem, a flare of darker pink bursting from it, traveling down the straps and fading out to pastel at her chest.

The skirt was slender and reached down to the ground, embedded with tiny diamonds where it met her bodice and appearing like overlapping petals. Whenever she moved, thin beaded threads along her skirt would sway with her. All across, she was splashed with gorgeous swirls of reddish sparkles. She was a plum blossom, just like her pendant. A méihuā.

Daphne's hair was slightly curled and tossed over one shoulder, sparkles interwoven between the stands. Her face was covered with a heavy layer of makeup, erasing her pores and blemishes and dusting a soft pink across her eyelids and lips.

"You're a blossom, Daphne." Marv had said. "Hope, perseverance, beautiful despite everything."

Daphne arrived backstage soon, headed to join the line of tributes about to parade out onto the stage. The cool air chilled her bare shoulders, the excited buzz of last minute preparations and the audience out in the house filled the air.

Someone called her name, and Theia appeared bearing a wide smile. Her dark eyes glimmered with pride as she gently lay her hands on Daphne's shoulders. "Daphne, you look amazing."

"Kind of contrasting with the persona I'll be upholding, doesn't it?" Daphne said with a slight chuckle.

Theia squeezed her shoulders. "Try not to think of it as a persona. It's already part of your personality, Daphne, just be you. Channel that part of you that you want everyone to see."

Theia offered a couple more words of encouragement before hurrying off to find her seat in the audience. Since it was traditional for the girls of the District to go before the guys and Azalea was before Daphne alphabetically, Daphne stood between her and Caelum in the line.

Daphne loosed a breath and turned to face Caelum. Damn it, was he always this tall up close? She found herself having to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

"You look nice, Caflisch." Might as well try and begin to repair whatever rift had grown between them in this past year. It was likely the next time she got a moment with him would be when they were trying to kill each other.

Besides, it wasn't a lie. Caelum looked dashing in his intricate lavender suit, an elaborate white rose exploding out of his chest pocket, his hair neatly combed to the side. Daphne quickly committed this image of him to memory. For personal purposes.

He gave her a somewhat reluctant smile in that slightly lopsided way that displayed his dimples. Her heart gave a flutter against her better judgment.

"I didn't know we'd degraded to a last name basis, Feng."

No, in fact, we'd degraded to a barely-even-talk-without-being-weird-about-it basis. Despite this, Daphne found herself loose a chuckle. Damn, his smile was contagious.

"My bad, Caelum."

He lightly dipped his chin, emphasizing the fact that he was a whole head taller than her. His smile faded the slightest bit and his voice took on a strange, almost wistful tone as he said, "You look nice as well."

"I try my best." Daphne sketched a bow, and a stage manager hissed at her to face front. She'd thought that Caelum Caflisch complimenting her would drive her into a lovesick stupor, but instead, only a hollow feeling opened up in her stomach.

She didn't have much time to think about it. Panen's anthem was playing, and she heard the booming applause of the audience as the first tributes stepped onto the stage and the line began to proceed.

As soon as Daphne exited the safety of the curtains, the spotlights blinded her wholeheartedly. She tried to keep her eyes open and big as she smiled, the lights making the audience look like mere shadows before her. It helped her wretched stage fright the slightest bit that she couldn't pick out any individual faces. It made it much easier to imagine that this was all just one, big nightmare.

Still, it didn't stop her heart from pounding in her ears, her entire body trembling as she sank gratefully down into her specified seat. They'd had to expand the stage this year to accommodate forty-eight tributes instead of twenty-four.

Ever since the iconic Caesar Flickerman retired twenty years ago, the interviews have been conducted by his son August. August was practically a carbon copy of his father in terms of looks, fashion, demeanor and even voice.

The interviews began starting with District One, as usual. Since the girls went first, that meant Glory sauntered up to the plush chair to begin the show. She was decked head-to-toe in silver gems, reflecting so bright Daphne had to avert her eyes.

Glory projected a deadly sort of confidence, like she was sure she could kill you from a mile away. She seemed somewhat flirtatious towards August, which got to a point where Daphne had to stifle an eyeroll.

"So, we all saw what happened at the Banquet, Glory." August said, which snapped Daphne back to attention. "Tell us a bit about what was going through your mind."

"Well," Glory slowly turned her head around to face Daphne, her red curled hair bobbing at her shoulders. Her silver eyes flashed. "Let's just say I've secured myself a target in the arena."

An ooh came from the audience. Daphne worked a smirk onto her face and winked, knowing full well that the cameras had focused on herself for a fraction of a second.

Challenge accepted, you lump of manure.

It took forever, and Daphne was just about half asleep when August called Azalea's name. Azalea was dressed in swaths of white that contrasted against her bushy brown hair. She came off as shy, innocent and sweet when answering August's questions. Daphne almost snorted.

When August asked on her choice at the Reaping of who she wanted to take into the Games with her, Daphne tilted her head to appear only mildly interested. Azalea hesitated a bit before replying, "Daphne's a strong ally. She has everything I lack, and I have everything she lacks. We complement each other well."

Daphne did her best to keep from bursting out in laughter.

After Azalea's interview was over, August called Daphne's name. She got to her feet as gracefully as possible, then crossed the stage and sat down in the plush chair across from August. It was warmed from all the tributes before her.

"Daphne, where do we even start with you?" August said, earning a chuckle from the audience. The edge of Daphne's lip quirked.

"What can I say?" She leaned against the backrest of the chair and spread her elbows across the armrests, taking on a relaxed posture with her legs crossed. "I do like my first impressions."

"And a heck of a first impression you gave us, indeed." August quipped. "You heard what Azalea said; she thinks you two complement each other well. So why did you punch her upon being chosen?"

"You know how it is, August." Daphne crooned. "Teenage angst. How would you feel if someone you weren't particularly fond of dragged you into the Games for the hell of it?"

August nodded thoughtfully. A few murmurs echoed through the audience. Daphne tried to keep her gaze focused on August's heavily made up face, refusing to acknowledge just how many people were watching her right now. The entirety of Panem, damn it. Suddenly she was hyperaware of everything, from the way she smiled to how often she blinked.

"And the incident with Glory?" August prompted, and suddenly Daphne fought the urge to fidget.

"Oh, that," She said, then waved a carefree hand. "It wouldn't be a lot of fun without a mortal enemy, would it?"

That earned another laugh from the audience. A smug grin was laced over her lips at this point. She could do this. How hard is it to survive a three-minute long interview?

When August inquired about her strengths, she merely shrugged. "Where's the fun in revealing it right here, right now? Watch and see; even though I did only score a six, I think it's because the Gamemakers were merely scared of me."

"I like you, Daphne." August chuckled, and a mutter of agreement swept through the audience, which only widened her smirk. "Now, one last thing before time is up. A couple years ago, I remember a young man from District Ten, Aedon Feng. You have his spunk. He was your brother, was he not?"

She'd known August would probably mention this. She'd prepared herself. Theia had tried to as well. But it didn't erase the empty pit that still opened up in her stomach every time she heard her brother's name.

"Yes," Daphne replied, then quickly cleared her throat and lifted her chin. "Yes, he's my brother. Put on a hell of a show, didn't he?"

"He was one of my favorites, as you're coming around to be." August agreed with a nod.

"Hey, right back at you," Daphne grinned, reaching out to sock him on the shoulder. "But anyways, I'm proud to say I'm Aedon's sister. Gives me some motivation in the Games. It wouldn't be fair to my dear parents if I died as well. It's almost like I'm here to finish what he started."

"And I'm sure you'll make him proud. He's probably smiling down at you right now." August said tenderly. As if he knew she'd be joining Aedon up there soon.

With that, the interview concluded, and August wished her good luck one last time. Daphne made her way back to her designated seat as the audience burst into applause. She loosed a breath and lifted her eyes to the mentors' booth, where Theia was seated. She found her mentor immediately, clapping with a prideful smile.

A plum blossom. That's what Daphne was.

Hope, perseverance, beauty despite everything. A sudden surge of confidence coursed through her veins.

The audience liked her. She was pretty certain she'd secured at least a couple sponsors by now. She could do this. She was here to accomplish what her brother had lost his life trying to.

No, she wasn't just here to live out his legacy.

She was here to avenge him, to show the Capitol that they will not devastate the Feng family ever again. And she sure as hell would try her utmost best.

A grim smile spread across her face.

━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━