━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━

The carriage rumbled to a halt, then inched forward, stopped again, crept forward, another pause. Every progression towards the grand entrance to the Presidential Palace, illuminated by colorful lights for the night, sent butterflies frolicking in Daphne's gut. It was nearly their turn to disembark, when they'd step out of the carriage and up the luxurious, red carpet that was stretched across the steps and through the enormous double doors of the Palace. All on the arms of their partners.

The carriage began moving again, then stalled once more. District Nine's tributes ambled up the steps. It was District Ten's turn next.

Two staircases stretched up to the mansion, a majestic step fountain flowing between them. Daphne and Caelum would walk up the left staircase, Theron and Azalea taking the right. They were already in position, Caelum standing rigidly beside Daphne. Daphne forced her feet to stop shifting around in anticipation. As the carriage came to rest for the final time, Caelum held out an elbow. Tense yet somewhat hesitant, almost–-dare she say—shy.

Daphne slid her arm through his, feeling his muscles stiffen beneath. The carriage door swung open, a plethora of lights from flashing cameras and the surge of excited voices making it hard not to tremble.

Daphne and Caelum stepped off the carriage, moving as one as they strode up the carpeted steps. Daphne tried to smile and appear excited, clinging onto Caelum's arm as if they were simply headed to a school dance. Little did the cameras know, that point of contact was pretty much the only thing keeping her grounded in the tide of fanatics screaming out from the courtyard as they ascended the stairs.

If this was the energy that they received as one of the overlooked outlier districts, Daphne couldn't imagine how it was for the Career districts. For once, she was somewhat grateful to hail from District Ten.

She tried not to think that the massive doors of the Presidential Palace looked an awful lot like the fabled Gates of Hell as they strode inside, her calves burning from all the steps. She released a small breath, her arm relaxing ever so slightly in Caelum's grasp. They had left the crowd behind, but the cameras that lurked everywhere she looked didn't give her any more relief.

The black flats embedded with tiny diamonds that Daphne wore on her feet thudded softly against the velvet red carpet, which stretched on through the hallway. The majestic walls were covered with paintings depicting the Dark Days; mostly the slaughter of thousands of rebels and the Capitol reigning supreme with presidents painted in godly manners.

Yet another reminder to the citizens who watched at home that their ancestors one-hundred-fifty years ago had brought this upon themselves.

The entrance to the Banquet room was a grand, elegant golden archway. It didn't quite look like much from the outside, which was why Daphne froze in her tracks upon entering.

The ceiling... she couldn't tell if it was just diamonds embedded into the dome that stretched overhead or if it didn't have a ceiling at all, and she was just looking up at the night sky. Either way, it was breathtaking. Her eyes immediately began searching for constellations upon muscle memory, after the countless nights back home she'd spent charting the stars.

Caelum gave a light tug with his arm, reminding her to keep walking to their assigned table. Daphne tore her gaze from above and took in the rest of the room as they continued down the carpet, eventually branching off to one of the elegant, moonlit tables designated for their district.

Daphne sat down, her intricately carved ivory chair squeaking awkwardly as she untwined her arm from Caelum's. Theron and Azalea were seated at the table beside them, Theron still winking at the girls from District Nine. Daphne could feel the stare of the thirty-six tributes who had arrived prior. They were all making mental notes of who paired up with who for potential alliances in the Games.

Daphne almost told them not to worry. Despite what Ara said, odds were she was probably going to be the one Caelum targeted first, just to get her annoying ass out of the way.

Once Districts Eleven and Twelve took their seats, President Frose appeared at the pavilion at the front of the banquet room. She began her annual speech to open the Banquet, and Daphne took that time to observe the room. The mentors and Gamemakers were sitting at tables beyond the tributes'. The walls were lined with whimsical decorations, all seeming to correspond with the celestial theme. Daphne's dress fit in perfectly.

There were twin long tables at either end of the room, covered with platters that no doubt concealed hundreds of exquisite foods that Daphne couldn't even begin to imagine. She let her gaze casually drift over the other tributes, noting details of whatever she could use to her advantage.

The District Two tributes clung to their partners enough that she wouldn't be surprised if they were already dating. Power couples were dangerous in the games. The scrawny District Eight girl's dress only emphasized how frail she really was, allowing Daphne peace of mind to mentally sort her into the 'harmless' category. One of the male District Five tribute's arms were suspiciously thick with muscle. From simply building new technologies, or training in secret?

Daphne's eyes fell onto the District Six tables, to the boy who'd brought himself here for his little brother. He sat with his spine rimrod straight, shoulders balanced comfortably. From his immaculate posture to his slightly tanned skin, the way his dark hair curled over his ears, his slightly upturned eyes... it was Aedon. Not an exact match, but similar enough that something painful tightened in Daphne's chest.

She didn't realize she was staring until the boy's eyes flicked in her direction, and she quickly dragged her gaze away to avoid raising suspicion.

"...may this be a night of peace and relaxation!" Frose concluded her speech. Before you all get eaten alive, was what she didn't have to say.

Covers were lifted off the platters on the twin long tables, filling the room with thousands of aromas. Everyone rose from their seats, chatting and piling their plates. Daphne made her way over to one of the tables, a plate in hand, gawking at the array of food. She didn't even know where to start.

"Pace yourself," a smooth voice said from beside her. She turned to find Theia, dressed in a brown suit lined with lace, frills and tulle. Gold highlights on her face glimmered against her dark skin. "There's so much food, I found that it works best to take only a bite of each if you want enough stomach to try most of it."

"Is that... raspberry soup?" Daphne asked, gesturing to a bowl of pinkish liquid with red fruit bits floating in it.

"Yeah, and it tastes exactly how you would imagine." Theia said with a shrug, then helped herself to a small bowlful.

Daphne ambled down the table, taking pickings of whatever looked interesting. Her plate began to fill up with different types of meats, rice pilafs, fruit, potatoes and countless items that she didn't even have a name for. She began to head back to her table when someone stepped on the heel of her shoe.

Daphne lurched forward, the slipper jerked right off her foot. The plate faltered in her hands, sending a moment of panic buzzing through her head. She managed to save the plate from shattering on the ground, but not before half the contents slid cleanly off...

And splat right onto the dress of a silver-eyed tribute from District One.

The girl looked about Daphne's age, holding the hand of one of the District One males while waiting to load their plates. Her hair was chopped to her shoulders, the color of raging fire. A look of pure fury and shock ripped across her pinched features, all of it directed on Daphne as she froze. The surrounding Banquet guests cleared a circle around them, all of their eyes bulging at the growing stain that now inked the front of her dress.

"What the HELL," she growled, and Daphne could feel a trickle of sweat make its way down the side of her face.

Crap, the girl was gonna end Daphne right here. Daphne wouldn't even have a chance at competing in the Games, she'd make headlines as being the first casualty at a Banquet. She wouldn't even get to try her luck, see how she measured up to the other tributes during training, dance with Caelum-

"You're from District Ten, aren't you? Daphne Feng, I remember you from the Reaping." The silver-eyed girl sneered with a coy smile. The Banquet room had gone dead silent. Every camera, every pair of eyes in Panem were trained on them. On Daphne.

Daphne stumbled for words as her mind reeled. What the hell had she done? Should she go for a meek apology or a quick retort? Who tripped her?

Her mind sharpened as the girl lunged forward, grabbing Daphne by the only thing around her neck and pulling her face-to-face. "Hey, you apologize. Right now."

Except Daphne didn't. She'd fallen into a scary sense of calm, her insides beginning to boil. Because the only thing around her neck, the thing that the girl now yanked in her fist, was her plum blossom pendant.

"Get your damn hands off my necklace." Daphne snarled, dangerously quiet. From the edge of her vision, she noticed some Peacekeepers began to advance forward, towards them.

The girl's silver eyes gleamed, a venomous smile spreading across her face. She shoved Daphne away, releasing the pendant with a side glance at the Peacekeepers. "You better watch your back, ranch-girl. Watch your damn back."

"Likewise." Daphne said, as the girl's stylist appeared to escort her to some private rooms to fix her dress. The crowd eased back into chatter eventually, everyone going about as if the confrontation didn't happen. Daphne tugged her shoe back on and made her way back to the table, somehow feeling indecent if she went back to refill her plate.

She sat down and began picking at whatever was left, which was still quite a lot given how much she'd initially piled. She knew she'd made a huge mistake, securing her incoming death at the hands of that damn girl. Daphne probably wouldn't even make it past the bloodbath.

Caelum returned, his own plate generously full. He didn't pay Daphne any heed as he dug into his dinner.

"Do you think I just sealed my fate?" Daphne asked tentatively, not quite expecting an answer.

And at first, there was none. She'd just about given up, chiding herself for even bothering to say anything, until he glanced up and said, "who tripped you?"

"I..." Daphne sighed, then kicked herself under the table. "Damn it, I don't know. I should've looked, I-"

"Relax," Caelum's voice was low, quiet, as if he didn't want to be noticed talking to her. "Just get her with a knife to the back."

"What if she gets me with a knife to the back first?"

"Wouldn't that be a shame."

She angled a glare at him for the sarcasm lacing his words, and though he had a faint smirk on his face, that same dead look still shadowed his eyes.

After a considerably long period of dining in which Daphne stuffed herself full, she noticed an orchestra begin to assemble on the pavilion. The head Gamemaker, Emeric Ponce, made his way to the podium, tapping the microphone a couple times to ensure it was working.

Daphne set down her fork, not sure if she could stomach another mouthful. Because whenever the head Gamemaker stepped onto the pavilion, it meant-

"Alright, alright, folks. It's the moment you've been waiting for." Ponce said, a cat-like smile plastered to his heavily made-up face. "Leave your plates where they are, and make your way to the dancefloor. It's time for the Tribute Dance!"

Daphne wiped off her mouth, probably taking off a layer of lipstick with it, and stood up hastily enough to bang her knee against the table. Caelum rose more gracefully than she, stiffly holding out his elbow to escort her onto the dancefloor in front of the pavilion, clear of tables.

Ponce explained a couple other things, such as the historic meaning of the dance about to commence and the like, but Daphne's eyes drifted to the floor. It was practically a reflection of the ceiling above, an iridescent swirl of dark blues and purples splashed with glittering diamonds.

"With that, face your partners, let the dance commence!" Ponce concluded, which brought upon a chorus of cheers and applause. Soft music began drifting across the ballroom, courtesy of the orchestra behind Ponce.

That was the cue. Daphne briefly ran through the steps of the annual tribute dance as Marv had gone over while she was dressing her. It wasn't a very complicated dance, though the amount of coordination required with your partner was enough to make a lump of nervousness form in Daphne's throat.

Daphne lowered herself into what she hoped was a graceful curtsey after Caelum's bow. Her hands fell across his shoulders, his own finding their place at her hips. They were warm, steady.

At first, the steps were almost robotic as they began to move to the music. Daphne replayed Marv's instructions over and over, remembering the brief run through they'd done before heading down to the carriages. Her feet faltered a couple times. Caelum's hands were tense with concentration at her waist. Beside them, Daphne heard Azalea's quick, whispered apology to Theron as her pointed shoes scuffed his.

Don't think too much about the steps, Marv had said. Focus on the music, focus on your partner. It'll come naturally.

She was right. It wasn't even all that complicated of a dance, and Daphne had seen it year after year on television. She remembered back to Aedon's dance with Theia, the way he'd seemed so immersed in the classic melody.

Music. That had been what Aedon loved. While Daphne had her head up in the stars, Aedon's had been flowing with tunes and melodies that he would find a way to bring alive. Daphne would be drawing her star charts, while he would be experimenting with materials to make different songs.

Music guides you, He'd told her one time. Let your mind take a step back, and the rhythm will take the driver's seat.

Daphne let the memory settle, sinking into her beating heart. Marv's instructions faded to the back of her mind, no more than subtle cues as the melody hummed all around. Her hands relaxed at Caelum's shoulders, not having been aware of how hard she'd been gripping. If it had hurt, he'd said nothing.

The tenseness had left both their bodies. They were moving as one now, the dance coming as naturally as breathing. The occasional falter, accidental misstep, but everything felt like it was clicking into place. He, with his silver suit that seemed to glow in the dim lighting, was the moon to her stars. If only for this very moment.

Those eyes were like chips of fleeting jade, seeming to want to look anywhere but her face. That damned hollowness hadn't gone away. Daphne allowed herself the faintest of frowns, purposely stomping on his toe with more force than necessary.

A muscle feathered in his jaw. "Ouch."

"Stop looking so dead inside and at least pretend like you're enjoying this." Daphne muttered from the corner of her mouth. She'd rather the cameras not pick up on this conversation.

He sighed through his nose and plastered an exaggerated grin across his lips. Daphne fought the urge to slap it right off.

"Come on," she growled. "Is it really that horrible to dance with me?"

"It's not that," He said, his voice barely a whisper. He opened his mouth as if to elaborate, but remained silent. Daphne took that as the cue that the conversation, however brief, was over.

The finale of the dance was upon them, and it ended with Daphne dipped in Caelum's arms. He tugged her upright with a firm gentleness as the applause rang out, echoing off the elegant walls to the point it was almost eerie.

Only because it was customary, Caelum lifted her hand and pressed a fleeting kiss against her skin.

The Banquet was over after the Tribute Dance. The cameras quit rolling, since nobody really cared about the return trip back from the Palace. A sudden wave of exhaustion threatened to buckle Daphne's knees, and as she was exiting the banquet room arm-in-arm with Caelum, a pang of homesickness hit hard enough to bring prickles of tears in her eyes.

She wondered what Esther and Rourke were up to at this very moment. They must've watched the Banquet just now. Were they getting ready for bed? Did they smile upon seeing her dance with Caelum, the most elegant she'd ever been, or did it just make the hole in their hearts tear wider? Daphne tried to picture them, sitting on the old leather couch in front of the tiny television, Barley lying at their feet gnawing at a bone.

She thought of Lysa and Tobe, watching from their own house nextdoor. If Daphne ever came back, they'd tease her relentlessly about Caelum. Did they still go up to that hill every morning, even though she wasn't there to accompany them?

Hiraeth. The word echoed in her head. It had been the title of one of Aedon's self-composed songs. One of her favorites. When she was younger, he used to sing it to her whenever she was spooked by nightmares, no matter how late it was.

Hiraeth. A homesickness for a place you can never return to.

━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━