Something about Senator Coriolanus Snow standing stoically in the empty cemetery, a flurry of flakes whipping around him, made him unearthly, alien even. Yet he seemed at home mired in the frigid tempest, death beneath his fine dress shoes. The Devil himself had nothing on the man before her.

She couldn't tell if she was shivering or if her very bones were trembling. Though it didn't matter, either way, it wasn't because of the weather.

"I thought you weren't arriving until dinner?" Hazel coughed as her lungs burned from the exertion, the biting winter storm, and undoubtedly the sight before her.

A smirk licked along the edge of Coriolanus Snow's lips, "Missed me, did you?"

Hazel bit her cheek to keep herself from saying anything else she might regret. Well, at least until there was one less peacekeeper in the audience. As if realizing her unusual quietness was due to the soldier watching them nervously, Snow's gaze flickered from her to Sable.

"Private Pytash." Snow briefly tilted his head to the peacekeeper.

"Senator Snow." Sable bowed forward from the waist, dropping his eyes in respect.

"You two are sure up early this morning."

Sable blew out a puff of heated air from his nostrils, "Didn't have much of a choice, sir."

Snow's attention shifted from Sable to Hazel, his lips curling at one edge, "I see."

"You are up early yourself." Hazel's attention locked onto the bouquet in his hands.

Snow bent forward, lying the fresh flowers at the base of Silus's headstone. "I thought I would pay my respects."

Petite flakes coated the flowers, blending into the slick pale petals. She wanted nothing more than to chuck them into the river. He shouldn't be here. And he most definitely shouldn't be laying a bouquet at the grave of a victim of his Games. And not just any victim, her Silus. Hazel swallowed down the searing irritation, leaving the flowers where they were. "Those are... lovely, Senator." The river was probably frozen, anyway.

Snow's attention shifted from Hazel to the lilies and back, "Private Pytash, would you give us a moment? You are welcome to wait in the car if you like."

Sable nodded in an abrupt salute, "Yes, sir." He briefly met Hazel's eyes before heading toward the mayor's idling car.

"How did you know I would be here?"

"Lucky guess, I suppose," Snow replied as he slid back from the grave.

Hazel cast a glance over her shoulder until she was sure Sable was out of earshot, "You've been spying on me."

Snow folded his hands behind his back once again. "I prefer to think of it as staying informed."

Hazel murmured, "That's a funny way to pronounce breaking and entering."

"It's hardly breaking and entering when the door is unlocked." Snow leaned back on his heels.

"So just entering then."

A knowing smile tugged at his mouth.

She didn't believe for a moment that he had left the gifts personally. "Who exactly did you have test the effectiveness of my home's door handles? "

Snow shrugged. "Everyone has to pay the rent somehow."

Hazel crossed her arms, fighting back another quiver.

"Walk with me?" Snow glanced around at the setting that should've been serene, but it was very much the opposite.

Hazel ignored his question. "Why are you here?"

"Would you believe that I just wanted to see you?" Snow's gaze settled back on her.

Hazel's arms remained crossed, features frozen in an unimpressed glower.

Snow hummed, "I'll take that as a no." He twisted back to Silus' tombstone. The lilies were rapidly disappearing under the layers of sleet. "The tour is starting soon."

"You aren't a Gamemaker anymore." What did the tour matter to him? Shouldn't he be focused on Senator work? Whatever that even meant.

Snow stretched a gloved hand toward her as he shot a glance at the cars, "Please Walk with me."

Hazel stared at his waiting hand like it was a thorn-covered serpent. She would rather grip a hot fire poker. A sudden urge pulsed within her to run. But with whoever was in the car, Sable and Snow himself, being so close, it wasn't like she could sprint off into the woods again. Probably wouldn't get far anyway.

"Fine." She replied as she strode forward. She kept her eyes straight ahead as she slid past his open palm. The tips of his gloved fingers barely skimmed along the arm of her jacket. She didn't stop as she walked away from him, hiking toward Silus's oak sapling. "We have a lot to talk about, anyways."

Behind her, Snow let out an almost imperceptible sound as his hand curled before dropping to his side. "So it seems."

Silently, they weaved through the snow-encrusted field of graves. Glittering flakes continued to shower down, sinking into the coating that frosted every surface of the District. Apparently, no one was going to escape snow today.

Hazel pushed down the burning sensation in her chest as they passed Cedar's gravestone. Up ahead, another caught her eye, decorated with layered, tuberous flowers along its edges. Dahlia Starling. She stiffened as she fought to not look at it. Even though a grave marker was there, the ground remained empty beneath it. She shuddered, picturing Dahlia's body still out in the woods somewhere, her white bones camouflaged by the falling snow. But then again, maybe she hadn't been reduced to mere bones at all.

Snow walked after her in near silence, arms folded behind him as though he hadn't a care in the world. He appeared to be amused, oscillating his attention between the redhead storming away from him through the graveyard and the peaceful, partially frozen river and white-capped mountains.

Hazel didn't look back as she spoke, but she knew he could hear her, "I know the truth."

Snow's steps crunched behind her without a single falter in their steady rhythm, "Oh?"

They walked a bit further until she reached the top of the incline. Now, behind the cover of several towering pines and a curtain of white, she whirled back to him as her eyes blazed. Her fiery anger no longer hid behind the mask she required when there was an audience.

Though she felt like there were flames in her veins, her tone chilled as cold as the air. "It was planned, all of it from the start."

Snow regarded her, taking in her features almost like he expected as much. "And where did you come to obtain such an idea?"

Hazel kept her lips pressed together. Her stare was unwavering as they locked eyes. She wasn't going to play this game.

Snow broke their visual stand-off first, his attention falling to the plaque beneath the baby oak. "Heath Marlowe is hardly trustworthy... But I don't really need to tell you that, do I?"

The mere mention of her father caused a twinge in her chest. Hazel looked away from him, her own gaze dropping to the snow collecting at her feet. She had stayed true to her word and had not laid eyes on her father since that rainy night she had disowned him.

Snow's features softened as he looked down at her. "I can only imagine how painful it must be to have such a man as a father."

Painful was an understatement at best.

"He's a broken person." She murmured. "Easily swayed by rum and revenge. But I don't really need to tell you that, do I?"

"Hmmm." Snow shook his head as his gaze swept over the woods behind her, his lips twisting at the edges. "I hear he is testing his hand at the sober life."

"I wouldn't know." Hazel highly doubted that, not that she cared any longer. Or at least she did her best to avoid the sentiment. "Is he still on the payroll?"

"Oh, quite the contrary. He seems to have..." Snow caught her eyes once again, testing, probing, "retired."

"Huh."

They regarded each other for several moments, the fog of their breathing mingling together.

Hazel finally said, "So, do you dispute the nature of my victory?"

"It appears that it would hardly be worth the effort." Snow shrugged, his voice nonchalant, as if he was commenting on the brand of cologne he preferred. "However, it is more nuanced than you might think. It is not possible to plan for every scenario." His eyes swept over her face, "In any experiment, there are always unpredictable variables."

Hazel let out a sharp breath. While she knew the truth, hearing his confirmation out loud, no matter how vague, sucked the winter air from her lungs. "Tell me why."

He hesitated, testing her, "What is your theory?"

"I haven't the faintest...Money? Boredom?" Hazel's green eyes shone in the dull snow-covered light as she did her best to restrain her boiling anger.

"Do you really know that little about me, Miss Marlowe?" Snow inquired.

Hazel pursed her lips. While he seemed to have a vast knowledge of her, she knew little of him or his background. While the Snows had always been a prominent, well-known family in the Capitol, there were fewer details about him available in the Districts. Apparently, he was a star student at all levels of his education. He was the winning mentor for the Tenth Games with Lucy Gray Baird. However, it was as if the world had forgotten that game. Afterward, he served a brief peacekeeper deployment in District Twelve before being made apprentice Gamemaker under Dr. Gaul. Not more than two years later, he was elected the youngest Senator in all of Panem. He had said that he had a cousin, and she knew he had a penchant for roses and, of course, games. Outside of that, she knew very little.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Hazel turned her attention to the woods around them. Did she really want to know more about him? What was the point? More than anything, she wished he would drop his interest in their charade and move on to something else, more importantly, someone else.

"What use is the favorite color of the jailor to the imprisoned?"

Snow let out a long breath, "I can assure you, I am not your jailor. If anything, it is much the opposite." His breath hung in the air between them like a cloud of sugar-dipped roses. "I learned a while ago that familiarizing yourself with those in power over you can prove more valuable than you might think."

It sounded an awful lot like he was trying to teach her how to be like him. The thought was laughable, and she nearly let out a derisive snort. She would never become him. "Familiarize me then, Senator."

His eyes shone with something that mirrored conviction. "I'm the benefactor of one of the wealthiest families in all of Panem. I have little use for more money. And even less for gambling."

"How can I believe you?" Hazel scoffed and shivered as she looked at Silus's plaque. "All you've done is hide the truth from me."

"I may not have fully disclosed everything, but I have not lied to you."

"Is that not the same thing?"

He stepped closer to her, eyes flickering to her arms as they tightened around her torso. She dug her hands into the warmth of her armpits as the tips of her fingers began to numb. "In the position that I am in, discernment is imperative. What kind of Gamemaker would I be if I were to disclose classified information to tributes."

"But I wasn't just any tribute, was I?"

"No." Snow's gaze oscillated between her eyes, "No, you weren't." Hazel's pulse spiked at his admission as well as his slow step forward, "But, can you honestly say you wouldn't have sabotaged the whole plan if you had known?"

She most definitely would have derailed the whole thing if given the chance. "You are damn right I would have." She would have burned the arena to the ground if it meant that brand new grave marker bore her name instead.

Snow's face solidified into something that resembled respect tinged with something else.

Clenching her fists, she dug her nails into the fabric of her jacket. "You still haven't told me why."

Snow sighed again, "It is the truth that it wasn't my idea."

"But you went along with it."

Snow shrugged with a slight bend of his head. "Eventually."

"Eventually?" She had assumed he had been in on it from the beginning.

"After I was presented with Augustus's proposal, I was not immediately convinced to participate." Snow's gaze drifted to the woods behind her head as he seemed to become lost in his own thoughts. "I even considered putting sanctions on Augustus and his funds when I found out."

She was surprised that he was actually admitting such a thing to her. "And?"

Snow ran a gloved thumb over his chin, staring at the towering canopies overhead, "I came to see things in a different light."

"Augustus must be quite the salesman."

"He's only partly responsible for my agreement."

Hazel's thoughts swirled like the flakes overhead at his words. Before she could think better of it, she asked, "What else convinced you?"

Snow's arm dropped from his face as his eyes returned to hers. Hazel swore the look resting within them could melt the snow floating around them. "What do you think?"

Hazel stepped back and let her hands fall to her sides as she shied away from the intensity of his attention. She scanned the woods, focusing on the soft sounds of snowfall and her breathing.

Something about his words rang true, but even then, they were shrouded, still not quite clear. But at the moment, she wasn't sure if she wanted more clarity. Without warning, warm leather slid over her skin. Gloved fingers encircled her own as Snow pulled her hands into his. Hazel reacted without thought, jerking backward. He released her without objection, studying the startled twist of her features.

"Easy," he coaxed. He reached toward her again, slower, like he was approaching a cornered deer. This time, when he touched her hands, Hazel let him, kicking herself for startling so easily. Snow's features held none of his typical smirk or smugness. "I want us to start fresh. You are no longer a tribute, and as you said, I am no longer a Gamemaker." He tilted his chin to his chest, reaching for his signature flower.

He detached it with ease. His eyes fluttered closed for a second as he slid it beneath his nose. As he inhaled, his whole body seemed to relax, followed by his eyes snapping open. He guided the bloom into the space between them just outside her reach,, "I will not lie to you if you can promise me the same."

Hazel frowned at the flower, "You? Honest?"

"Despite whatever opinion you have of me, Miss Marlow, I actually do value honesty."

"Do you offer fresh starts to all of your lab rats?"

Snow's smirk returned and he twirled the rose between his fingers, "Only the special ones."

"Like Lucy Gray?" Hazel regretted it as soon as it left her lips.

The rose in his hand froze mid-spin. Snow's eyes flashed, and his grip on her hand tightened almost imperceptibly. Almost. His eyes bore into hers as he answered, "Actually, yes."

Hazel swallowed, "Did she accept?"

Snow broke their eye contact, eyes drifting again to the woods, "She didn't value truth the same way that I do."

From the look on his face, there was so much more to it than that, but he didn't seem keen on explaining further. Lucy Gray tugged at the back of her mind. There had been no sight or sound of the girl in years. Hazel hoped what he was offering wasn't just a path leading her to the same fate. She could go along with this for now, temporarily, until she got answers.

"Ok, a fresh start." She reached toward the rose, gripping its thornless stem. Hazel's still-trapped palm began to thaw in his gloved one as the edge of his lip ticked upward, "Why did you do it? Why did you rig the games?"

Snow's gaze dropped to her ensnared hand as he ran a gloved finger over the edge of her bandage and then traced a path over her knuckles. "I can assure you it wasn't for money."

Hazel stared down at his fingers, fighting to keep her hand from betraying her nervousness. "That is almost an answer."

Snow shifted closer, and Hazel held her breath.

"Do you remember our walk in the rose garden?"

"Avoiding and lying are sisters, Senator."

Snow chuckled, "Humor me."

Hazel let out a long breath and fought to steady herself. Her hand went from warm to like it was on fire. She dug her thumbnail into the stem of the rose. "I remember."

He tilted his head as his expression grew distant. "You said it yourself."

Confusion washed over her at his words. "I what?"

Snow's thumb continued its trail, "You were right. Even back then. I have to admit that caught me off guard."

Hazel shook her head, "I don't understand."

Snow glanced at the flower in her grasp, "My rose. The answer you gave me when I asked you what you thought it represents."

Hazel's memories swirled as she fought to recall the conversation that seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it had only been a handful of months. The rose between her fingers was flawless, a white so pure it almost didn't look real. "Power." She whispered, studying the way delicate flakes began to coat the petals, "Control."

Snow's smile grew sharp, "Precisely." He leaned forward until his warm floral breath coated her face, melting the ice flakes in her eyelashes. "I do believe it represents new beginnings; that wasn't a lie. But that wasn't everything. A rose is merely a symbol." Snow whispered, "It is not a weapon outright. But symbols can be just as powerful, more so even. Perception...That is where the power lies. Same as you."

"I am not one of your roses, and I am no symbol. How could I possibly help you gain power and control?"

A smile broke through his serious expression, "I will show you."

Overwhelm bubbled up within her due to his words as well as the heat from his touch. He didn't protest as he let her pull her hand away. His eyes grazed over the goosebumps forming along her neck.

"How about a game?"

Hazel raised an eyebrow, taking a step back. The branches of the sapling rubbed against her pant leg. "And here I thought you gave up your job."

"We both need something from each other." Snow watched her slow retreat from him, "I need you to trust me. And you clearly have more questions."

Hazel scowled down at her boots. He would make this more complicated than it had to be. "What kind of game?"

"A truth for a truth. I ask a question, and if you answer honestly, I will in return."

"And if you ask me something that I don't want to answer?"

"Then you owe me a favor. And vice versa."

Hazel's stomach churned. "What kind of favor?"

Snow crossed his arms, and his eyes glittered even in the dull gray light. "Anything within reason, preferably nothing illegal."

"Don't you already have all the answers you need?" Hazel analyzed him, "Seems you know more about me than I am even aware of."

Snow's eyes glistened as the storm grew harsher, the precipitation thicker, "Even I have limits, which can be utterly frustrating for someone who is as ...." He paused, staring out at the mighty alpine river, "Curious as I am."

Hazel let out a long, shivering breath. She met his eyes once again, and they shimmered with what looked to be more than simple curiosity.

A part of her wanted nothing more than to refuse his offer to play his sick game, but at the same time, there was still so much more she wanted to know. No. Needed to know. Hazel met his stare for a long moment; neither spoke and merely took in the other as if they were sizing up an opponent. In some way, that is exactly what they were. But who would win?

"Ok then." Hazel relented, "I agree. Now answer me."

Snow laughed, his eyes sparkling with triumph as he raised up his hands, "Hold on, tiger. You first, I gave you several answers already."

Hazel let out an exasperated puff of steam, "What do you want to know?"

"Do you regret saving my life?"

Hazel sucked in a deep lungful of snow-encrusted air. She wasn't sure exactly what question she thought he would ask, but that wasn't it. The gray sky darkened as she considered her answer. It had been an instinctual reaction. She would have done the same for anyone... except Percy and maybe Holt.

Snow's attention washed over her, searching for clues of her answer. The snow crunched beneath his dress shoes as he stepped closer. Despite her irritation and opposition to nearly everything about the man before her, she had enough death to last her a lifetime.

Her lungs burned from holding her breath, and finally, she let it out slowly. "No."

Snow's face seemed to brighten and darken at the same time. He searched her features with a restrained intensity that made her regret not just telling him she should have let a redwood flatten his handsome face into his own arena's infrastructure.

"So, my turn?" Hazel shivered more from the bizarre questioning and the look on his face than the cold. Snow said nothing but nodded in agreement. "Why me?"

"That is a complicated answer."

"I'll do my best to keep up."

He exhaled slowly before speaking. "You, Miss Marlowe, had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She scoffed out a bitter sound.

"Alas, your brother and you were casualties of your circumstances. Caught between the revenge and reckoning of your fathers. Being the daughter of Heath Marlowe and Oren Starling and the niece of a former tribute placed you in a very ... unique position. And then, to have both you and your brother reaped..." Snow trailed off as he seemed to search for the right way to word it, "Let's just say it had all the makings of an extraordinary story. One that the people would devour and one, unfortunately for you, that Augustus Trask saw the meteoric potential of."

Wrong place at the wrong time. She wanted to scoff at the idea, but the way he described it made sense in a twisted way. It was like her father had said. She couldn't help the tears that stung her eyes as she realized they had been doomed from the beginning like unknowing trees marked for felling.

Snow's voice softened as he continued, "Sometimes in life, we are the victims of our circumstances. One's where we have no control, no matter how much we wish we did." His words, while meant for her, rang with a quality of personal experience. "Once you realize that, you will come to understand the choice you have to make. Run or Adapt."

Run. Hazel's heart quickened, flashing back to the nightmare—Snow's voice calling after her. She fought against the sting of tears, willing them to stay hidden, though she could feel her eyes taking on a faint pink hue. "What circumstances were you a victim of, Senator?" Hazel's question was somewhere between bitterness and genuine interest.

He raised an eyebrow, "Are we trading more answers?"

Hazel shook her head in the negative, not sure she could handle much more of this bartering. Her mind felt heavy as it brimmed with all the new information.

She cast another look at the limp oak sapling. It was wilting along the edges. She hoped the little thing would make it through the winter. However, she wasn't sure if she would survive whatever this was either. Another shiver pulsed through her limbs.

Suddenly, a heavy warmth that smelled as sweet as honey enveloped her. A dense yet luxurious fabric slid over her back, wrapping around her. Hazel flinched, her muscles tensing. Snow loomed over her, his arms outstretched, his coat secured around her shoulders.

Her breath and her skin tingled beneath the fabric, her instinct to resist warring with the biting cold that seeped through her jacket moments before. The storm surged with a rapid, increasing force across the winter landscape. Each flake danced through the wind for only a handful of moments until meeting its destiny. Once it reached the earth, it melted into the mass, becoming unrecognizable. Snow's breath played with the loose strands of her hair, "Quite a bit of snow you all get around here."

Hazel eyed the blanket of white rapidly surrounding them, trying to ignore that he still held the shoulders of his coat. "Too much, if you ask me."

"You know, I have missed you." Snow's eyes flashed with amusement, and she pulled her stare away, scolding herself. She was making this so much worse. As her resistance seemed to feed his enjoyment of the game, they were playing.

As his sweet, cloying, rose-tinted presence filled her lungs, Hazel took a calming breath. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting her lungs fill with the winter air, hoping it would calm the emotions warring within her. Again, her fingers grazed the silken petals of the Snow white rose. Her pulse steadied, and she reopened her eyes, fixing them on the man before her. "I changed my mind. I think that I do want to trade another truth."

Snow's arms dropped, and he watched her closely, waiting.

"What is on the tape?"