Hazel squinted as Festus pushed her into the blindingly bright fluorescent light of the hospital corridors. Peacekeepers and staff lined the sterile hallways. She forced herself to smile and nod, receiving a few waves and smiles in return, while others watched her with curiosity. Their expressions ranged from admiration to pity. Though each gesture felt like a betrayal of her true feelings, she kept her chin up, determined to swallow down her discomfort.
She was rushed into a bland elevator, and soon, Hazel found herself staring at the large glass doors at the hospital's entrance. Beyond them, barriers held back a throng of people. Press members and their cameras lined the front. Flashes glittered across the crowd like a sea of tiny stars. Many were decorated in vibrant hues and bold accessories. Hazel ran a finger over her hand as she caught several pink armbands in the crowd.
She let out a shaky breath, tightening her grip on the rose. Even sheltered within the hospital, the energy of the gathering seeped through the glass.
Indira slid closer, pulling several tissues from one of the bags she carried. She bent forward and tucked them into the sleeves of Hazel's jacket. "Just in case," Indira murmured.
"Won't the people think it weak to see me cry?" Hazel chewed on her lip.
"It would be odd if you didn't, dear. It humanizes you."
Bitterness coiled in her stomach as Hazel stared back at the pulsating crowd outside the windows. The sheer number of people, all there for her, was almost too much to bear. The noise, the colors, the vigor of their presence—it was wholly overwhelming.
The familiar brown-eyed peacekeeper approached Indira, "Our escort is arriving now."
"Thank you, Private Drayton," Indira replied.
Drayton? Peacekeeper Drayton nodded to Indira, meeting Hazel's puzzled stare for a moment before turning away and focusing on the animated people outside.
Festus's thick hand gripped Hazel's arm, pulling her attention back to the task at hand as he whispered, "Remember, we're here with you."
She nodded, and he pushed forward. The doors were pulled open by the peacekeepers, and the crowd's roar hit her like a physical force. So many people were calling her name at once; it was unnerving. She plastered on a respectful smile and waved to the crowd. Despite her best efforts, she knew she still could not fully mask the sorrow in her face.
A convoy of glossy, sleek, dark grey cars pulled through the throng, pausing right in front of her wheelchair. As the back door flung open, with Festus' help, she climbed inside as soon as she was close enough, dragging her casted foot behind her. The car's interior offered a dim sanctuary from the chaotic energy outside. As the doors clicked shut, the noise died away. The brief respite allowed her to catch her breath, though her nerves remained on edge.
Festus and Indira joined her in the car, along with a couple of Peacekeepers. "Whew, it's little more than I had even anticipated," Festus replied, staring out the tinted windows.
The familiar brown-eyed Peacekeeper settled in across from Hazel, her gaze sharp and assessing of the crowd. Hazel studied her face; there was something familiar about her sharp features. Her irises were similar to Percy's, but her face was shaped more like Leo's.
Hazel stared at her as she did her best to ignore the dull rumble on the other side of the car door. The silence stretched, filled only with the soft hum of the car's engine. Hazel gripped the rose so tightly that she could feel the stitches straining in her injured palm.
Hazel finally addressed the peacekeeper before her when she could no longer stand the silence, "Private Drayton?"
Brown eyes met hers. "Yes, ma'am." She replied.
"Any relation to Percival and Leonidas Drayton?"
Her brown eyes warmed, but a line deepened between her brows, "My brothers."
Hazel's throat felt dry. She opened her mouth to ask the slew of questions burning against her tongue when the car stopped and the door swung open. The cheers of another crowd met her ears, the sound crashing over her like an ocean wave. More brightly colored Capitol citizens filled her vision. The air was thick with heat and the cloying scent of exotic perfumes. Festus flung himself around the car, reaching in to pull Hazel out.
As she awkwardly stood on her one good foot, the crowd's noise intensified. She forced another probably unconvincing smile and waved. Several noticed the pink along her palm, and she heard the name Ruby murmured more than a few times.
As her eyes adjusted to the sunshine-filled atmosphere, she realized she was being led to a bizarre, ridiculous method of transportation: a horse-drawn carriage.
It had gilded edges with intricate carvings of vines and flowers. Snow white horses with deep crimson plumes and sparkling golden bridles towered over the people. Hazel's stomach churned at the thought of being paraded around like a prized exhibit, "You've got to be kidding."
"You can't very well walk the mile to the stage now, can you?" Festus replied, hands on his hips.
Hazel looked down at her legs. "I think I would prefer that, actually."
"Doctor's orders, remember?" Festus smiled.
Hazel shut the door harder than necessary. "I'm beginning to really not like doctors."
Private Drayton covered her mouth, suppressing a chuckle.
Indira approached from behind. "It is a little much, isn't it?"
"Compliments of the Gamemakers, Miss Marlowe," the Peacekeeper commented next to her.
"Of course," Hazel murmured. She pulled the gold crutches under her arms and made her way to the carriage. The Peacekeepers formed a protective barrier, guiding her. Hazel's mind buzzed as she climbed inside with Festus's assistance, the seat beneath her surprisingly comfortable.
Festus slid into the seat next to Hazel while Indira took the one beside him. With a crack of the reins, the carriage lurched forward. Hazel sucked in a painful breath at the jostling. Another round of nausea flooded her. The cheers and calls of the crowd swelled, pressing down on her from all sides. Each face in the sea of people seemed to demand something from her, their features hungry for a glimpse of the new Victor.
They were pulled through the intricate, modern streets of the Capitol. Colorful multitudes of citizens lined the paths. Some waved and smiled; others held flowers they threw in her direction. Every so often, she caught a solitary boo. A few times, she thought she heard other tributes' names. More than once, she knew she had heard them call out Caleb.
Hazel waved all the same, masking her overwhelm beneath a practiced smile. She continued to grip the golden rose, her nails digging into its petals.
Within a few minutes, they approached the demolition site of the old arena. Much of the rubble had been cleared away, and new scaffolding formed a skeleton over the remains. Before it, a new stage had been erected, reminiscent of her first day in the Capitol. This new grand stage was adorned with thick crimson and gold banners that flowed on each side of the platform.
Citizens of Panem gathered in droves. The air buzzed with anticipation, whispers of curiosity rippling through the crowd. Applause crescendoed as her carriage approached. Despite the numerous eyes upon her, she felt one set more intensely than the others.
Waiting on the platform was Senator Snow. His face held a knowing smile as he kept his hands behind his back, chest out, and shoulders straight. He wore the same shirt and tie from the night before, but his pearlescent jacket had been replaced with a crimson one that matched the Capitol's' flag. Instead of a white rose attached to his chest, a metallic golden one had taken its place. Subtle.
Beside him was Dr. Gaul; her toothy smile made Hazel shiver despite the warm sun. They stood together as if nothing were amiss. For a minute, their tense conversations in the hospital room seemed like some imagined fever dream. Snow's eyes met hers, then dropped to the rose in her hands. His lips quirked just a bit wider. No, it wasn't a dream. This nightmare was completely real.
Besides the Gamemakers stood many uniformed Peacekeepers, President Ravinstill, Mags Flannagan, and the three victors from District Two. Mags watched her with a kind but solemn expression while the victors from District Two looked on, clearly irritated. Hazel couldn't really blame them. She had killed Caleb, after all.
A practically vibrating Lucky Flickerman stood center stage before a shining podium.
"And here is our guest of honor, Miss Hazel Marlowe!"
The horses pulled to a halt in front of the stage, and the mob erupted into a deafening roar. Hazel could make out the familiar faces of the mentors and escorts from the other districts in the front row. Persephone was dressed as elegantly as a queen, sipping daintily from a small flask hidden in a pocket. Beside her, Augustus Trask stood straight with his arms crossed. The blue in his long braid was even more vivid in the bright daylight. His scrutiny bore into her, and she squirmed and turned away. He probably hates me just as much as the other victors.
Festus and Indira exited first. Festus reached up and gripped Hazel's hand as she extricated herself from the carriage. Indira presented her with the crutches, which Hazel gripped tightly as she clumsily made her way to the stage.
The stage was much larger than the previous one, with two long sets of stairs stretching from the ground to the platform. Hazel paused, contemplating how to get herself up with the crutches.
Just as Festus reached for her, a voice rang out from the platform. It was one she was more familiar with than she ever wanted to be. Snow's tall frame glided toward her, a gloved hand outstretched. "Allow me," he called as he descended the stairs, his eyes locked onto hers. He might as well have commanded her to follow my lead.
"Miss Marlowe."
"Senator."
He studied her from head to toe, "You look beautiful."
Hazel felt a blush fill her cheeks and hated herself for it. "You mean, I look Capitol."
"No, you look victorious."
"Thanks to you, I'm sure." She had little doubt the white and gold outfit was anyone else's idea.
He smirked as he reached for the rose, which was currently trapped between her palm and the crutches. Hazel's grip tightened momentarily before she reluctantly let it go.
He paused, his eyes seemingly lost for a moment as he stared at the bloom.
"Do you ever wonder why people have déjà vu, Miss Marlowe?" He whispered, spinning the bloom between his fingers. He swiftly snapped the stem off, causing Hazel to flinch.
"I'm sure you will enlighten me." Hazel furrowed her brow as she cast a quick scan over the group. Was he seriously asking her philosophy on déjà vu right now? The eyes of the entire country were on them, but he spoke as if they were alone.
"My theory is it is an opportunity."
"An opportunity to what?"
He looked deeply into her eyes, and she watched with curiosity as he leaned forward and placed the flower in her hair just behind her ear. A few of the citizens let out lingering "ahhs."
"To get it right the second time."
Hazel furrowed her brow and studied him. He seemed simultaneously trapped within his own mind and uncomfortably fixated on her.
She cleared her throat, and he leaned back.
"Nice touch," she whispered as her fingers traced over the flower in her hair.
"Can't let you take all the spotlight," he winked, his practiced smile back in place as he waved over a Peacekeeper.
"Just a moment, folks. Our victor is still recovering. As usual, Senator Coriolanus Snow to the rescue."
"May I?" Snow gestured to the crutches. Hazel nodded. He pulled them from her, turning to the nearest peacekeeper. "Take these crutches up there," Snow commanded, pointing to the platform.
Peacekeepers took the crutches while Snow stared down at her, raising an eyebrow. "Trust me?"
Hazel wobbled on her good foot, and he reached out, encircling her bicep with his hand. As he steadied her, she whispered, "Never."
He smirked as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and then bent, sliding his other arm under her legs. With a sharp intake of air, Snow pulled her into his arms. Her feet dangled as her head spun. She caught a glimpse of Festus and Indira, watching curiously from behind. Hazel held her breath, but the scent of roses still permeated her senses. She pressed a hand to her temple.
Snow whispered in her ear as he carried her up the stairs, "Sounds like I've still got my work cut out for me."
"You have no idea." The blush was back with a vengeance, and her stomach twisted as clapping erupted all around her.
"That flush tells a different story." Snow smiled as he carried her up the steps to the platform and set her on her unsteady feet beside Dr. Gaul and the other victors.
"Thank you, Senator." She mumbled. Peacekeepers handed her back the golden crutches.
He smiled wide as he returned to Dr. Gaul's side and waved to the people. They ate it up. He knew exactly what he was doing. Hazel fought to keep her eyes from rolling and her blush from worsening.
Dr. Gaul glanced at her, a plastic smile embedded on her face. Her attention was fixed on the rose in her hair.
"Too bad it doesn't suit her." She murmured, turning back to Snow. "I think a wilder variety of rose would be more fitting. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Snow?"
Snow cast a side look to Dr. Gaul but turned his attention forward, "I think any flower would pale in comparison to its wearer."
"Unless the wearer is just a means to an end right?" Hazel commented loud enough for them to hear but didn't dare look at either. She could practically feel their scrutiny as Indira and Festus joined her on stage.
All of this did not help the blushing situation, and she could tell her hair and face were starting to become the same color.
"Ok?" Indira whispered into her ear. I'm anything but ok. Hazel nodded without looking at her. Every so often, Indira's hand would purposefully brush the outside of hers. The touch was grounding and comforting at the same time.
"Okay, folks, let's have a round of applause for our victorious team representing District Seven!" Lucky's voice boomed out over the wide space.
The crowd exploded in reaction, vibrating the stage.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"Very good, very good. What an excellent year it was. I was thoroughly entertained, if I do say so myself." Lucky paced the front of the stage. "But you all know it wouldn't have been possible without two very important people. Give it up for our resident Gamemakers, Dr. Volumina Gaul and Senator Coriolanus Snow!"
The cheers grew louder. Dr. Gaul was practically beaming at the reception. Both she and Snow stepped forward, waving at the energetic mass.
"Yes, yes." Lucky was fully immersed in his element. "And you lucky folks are going to hear from them. Madame Head Gamemaker will grace us with her thoughts, and then President Ravinstill will award the Victor's Medal!"
"Doctor, the floor is yours." Lucky tapped the microphone, lowering it for her.
Dr. Gaul strode forward, her curls bouncing with each step. The silver peeking through her dark strands glittered in the sunlight. She wore a scarlet coat that matched Snows. It flowed to her knees, with deep gold embroidery that swam over the material. The thread curled and curved into shapes of various animals. Birds, fish, and deer soaring, running, and swimming adorned her. Hazel thought they looked like they were trying to escape, too. Aren't we all?
Dr. Gaul's teeth seemed even sharper when she smiled at the assembly, her intense eyes searching the faces below. The crowd quieted in reverence.
"People of Panem! What do you think of my Games?"
The people let out hoops and hollers, and her smile curled wickedly higher. "I want first to congratulate our winner, Miss Hazel Marlowe!"
Festus murmured something under his breath, and Indira subtly elbowed him.
Dr. Gaul looked expectantly at Hazel. Hazel swallowed her derision and raised a hand to the multitude with a slight bow of her head while Gaul let out a cold laugh, "I have to admit, I was also thoroughly entertained myself."
She raised her arms as if to embrace the massive gathering. "Today, we gather not only to celebrate our new victor but to reflect on what the Hunger Games truly represent."
She paused, allowing her words to sink in. "The Games show us who we really are. They strip away the superficial layers of our existence and lay bare both the darkest and brightest aspects of humanity. We saw acts of violence driven by desperation, fear, and survival. But we also witnessed moments of incredible bravery, compassion, and of course ... sacrifice."
The word felt like a knife slicing through her skin once again. I would prefer a knife over this torture.
The audience murmured in agreement, some nodding while others remained still, captivated by her words. Hazel stared straight ahead, but she knew more than one set of eyes raked over her.
Dr. Gaul glanced at Senator Snow. "The Games serve as a reminder of our past, grounding us in the history that has shaped us. They remind us of the struggles and the triumphs that have defined Panem. They bring us together as a nation, uniting us. And they propel us into the future, showing us the potential for greatness and the depths of our resilience."
She gestured widely with her red-gloved hands. "I am pleased to announce the construction of a Hunger Games Museum. Over the next year, this museum will be built behind me on the grounds of the old arena, preserving the history and stories of the victors and the fallen for generations to come."
A wave of excitement rippled through the crowd. Cheers erupted, mingling with applause and enthusiastic shouts. The prospect of a museum dedicated to the Hunger Games was met with widespread approval.
Dr. Gaul smiled, her face gleaming with satisfaction. "This museum will serve as a place of reflection and education. It will stand as a monument to the strength and spirit of Panem. As well as a reminder of where we have come from and the necessary price of progress."
The applause grew louder. The energy was electrifying. Hazel watched from her place on the stage, the reality of Dr. Gaul's words settling over her. Hazel chewed on her lip and pressed a thumb to her stitched palm. A museum? The idea made her want to vomit.
The people, on the other hand, seemed more than enthusiastic.
"And you will get to see all our victors at the Grand Opening." Dr. Gaul announced, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.
Hazel glanced at the other victors behind her. Most seemed intrigued, except Mags, who stared at her feet, fiddling with her seafoam green dress.
Dr. Gaul stepped back from the podium, her smile unyielding. "Thank you, people of Panem. Let us continue to honor our history and look forward to a future of unity and strength."
Adamant approval rang through the square. Hazel felt a chill run down her spine as she glanced at Dr. Gaul, who caught her eye and gave a nearly invisible nod.
"How exciting!" Lucky Flickerman returned to the microphone, clapping his hands. "I will be there on opening day. How about you folks?"
The group responded with clapping and enthusiastic agreement.
"Alright, now it is time to award our victor. What do you all say?"
President Maximinius Ravinstill strode to the microphone. His grey-streaked hair was slicked back, and he wore a neatly pressed military uniform. Medals and banners decorated his chest. As he reached the podium, a peacekeeper handed him a maroon velvet box. He ran a weathered hand over the material as he looked up at Hazel expectantly. Indira tapped Hazel's arm and nodded toward him. Hazel turned her crutches awkwardly and moved closer to him.
The President smiled at her, and a flash of knowing grief slid across his face. Hazel bowed forward as far as the crutches would allow. "Mr. President," her voice was as soft as a whisper.
He pulled out a bright gold medallion with the Capitol's emblem engraved in the center. Thickly braided crimson silk was attached to each side. He held up the medallion to the crowd before moving closer to the podium. "Citizens of Panem, today we honor an individual who embodies the bravery, cunning, and indomitable spirit of a victor. Hazel Marlowe has shown us what it means to persevere in the face of unimaginable challenges. Her courage and resourcefulness in the arena define a true victor. It is with great pride that I present the Victor's Medal, symbolizing not just triumph but the strength and resilience of all who compete in the Hunger Games. People of Panem, for the first time, it is my honor to award the Victor's Medal to the winner of the 15th Annual Hunger Games: District Seven—Miss Hazel Johanna Marlowe."
A barb of unease pierced her heart. Johanna. Very few even knew her full name. Not even her mother used her middle name unless she was in serious trouble. She cast a side glance at Snow, who smirked. President Ravinstill coughed, and she whirled her attention back around to him. He quirked an eyebrow and nodded for her to bow again, and she complied without hesitation. "My congratulations."
Hazel sucked in a breath as he looped the braided neckband over her hair. The medallion felt heavy against her chest, rattling against the pendant beneath her blouse. "And my condolences." He spoke just loud enough for her to hear. She met his eyes and noticed a familiar sorrow staring back at her. They might be from different worlds, but grief was universal.
"Thank you, sir," she nearly choked out. She may need Indira's tissues sooner rather than later.
President Ravinstill then took a step back and began to clap, followed by everyone else. Lucky Flickerman's grin stretched wide as he approached Hazel, his brightly colored suit almost as loud as his personality. The midday sun shone down harsher than any spotlight, making everything feel surreal and overexposed. The Victor's medal hung heavy around her neck. The crowd buzzed with excitement, their eyes glued to her. Lucky surged forward, wrapping an arm around Hazel's shoulders as he faced the crowd.
Lucky's flinty voice filtered through the microphone. "Hazel Marlowe, our victor from District Seven! Congratulations!"
"Thank you, Lucky." She smiled softly, running a finger over the medallion.
"I've been dying to know a few things, Miss Marlowe. As I am sure is the rest of the country." He smiled wide, toothy. "First, let's just start with how are you feeling at this moment?"
Hazel mustered a solemn smile, her mind flashing back to Snow's instructions. "I'm honored...It's an honor to be here." Her mouth filled with a sour taste as the lie left her lips.
Lucky smiled broadly. "I think I can safely say that we're all glad you are here, Miss Marlowe," he winked, casting a glance at Snow. "Though some more than others, I'd wager."
Laughter and oohs filled the air like a summer breeze.
"Well, I had a lot of help along the way. I couldn't have done it without my mentor."
"Yes, a round of applause for Festus Creed, everyone! It's clear that behind every great victor is a great mentor."
Festus took a step forward, waving to the crowd, drawing cheers and applause. Hazel noticed strained glances between Snow and Augustus.
"I'm not sure what my favorite part was—there's so much to choose from. The eels, the sandstorm, the wolves. But I can tell you this: we were all on the edge of our seats when you set that cornfield on fire. That was quite the strategy. And the way you set up the trees to fall in the Seven Tract like dominos was very clever."
The audience murmured approvingly, and Lucky nodded, leaning in. "Is that something you all do back home?"
She shifted on her crutches. "Not exactly. Actually, it is very illegal."
Lucky burst into laughter, "I can see why. And how about at the end?! Using the falcon to take out your biggest rival, Caleb. Amazing!"
The people rumbled in multiple opinions voiced at once.
"My mom has always told me I was.... Creative."
Augustus folded his arms across his chest and ran a thick finger over his chin, his stare glued to her. She pulled her gaze away and back to Lucky. She could practically feel the eyes of the District Two victors burning holes in the back of her head.
Lucky continued, "Creative indeed. I dare say we might all owe a thank you to Mr. Augustus Trask for how that battle ended."
Hazel blanched. What? She abruptly turned to Lucky, whose toothy smile widened at her reaction. "Don't tell me you don't know?"
Hazel hesitated, her gaze flitting from Lucky to Augustus' tilted head to the downcast eyes of Festus and Indira. Festus nodded to Augustus in what appeared to be ... respect.
Hazel's pulse spiked. What is happening?
Lucky laughed along with the audience. "Oh, my dear girl. Who do you think sent the last bottle of water?"
No. When she said she was testing a theory, she never expected it to be true. She turned her attention back to Augustus Trask. His tan eyes gripped hers. Why?
"Now, whether he meant to aid his own tribute and inadvertently fed into your plan or truly meant to help you is one of this Game's great mysteries."
Hazel's mouth felt like the District Ten desert. She actually owed her life to the villainous man who apparently terrorized the other districts.
Lucky paused, watching her and everyone else expectantly. They were waiting for her. She tightened her jaw, licked her dry lips, and choked out, "Thank you, sir."
Augustus's eyes crinkled, and a hint of a smile pulled at the edges of his lips. He bowed his head but then spoke, his voice smooth and measured. "What's meant for one may serve another, even if unintentional... Fate has a way of surprising us all."
Hazel felt the words hit her like a cold wind. I guess we are all lying today, apparently. Some are just better at it than others.
Lucky's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Seems like it was our turn to surprise you, Miss Marlowe. Now, tell us, what do you think about the other tributes who didn't make it? Any final words for them?"
Hazel's expression softened, and she blinked. The matching grey eyes of Ruby and Ethan, Kai's youthful face, Aaron's easy smile, and Mia's laugh flashed vividly in her mind. She shivered at the memories of each of their ends. "The other tributes were brave and strong, and they'll always be remembered. I hope their sacrifices will not be forgotten. I know I will carry them with me for the rest of my life." Her voice cracked, and she looked down at her pink palm. She was sure her dreams would torture her with their faces for eternity.
Lucky's tone turned softer as he approached a more sensitive topic. "Hazel, many of us were moved by the bravery of your brother, Silus." Hazel sucked in a sharp breath. Here it comes. Lucky continued, "His sacrifice, while tragic, was truly heroic. How are you coping with his loss?"
Overwhelm swelled within her chest, and she blinked rapidly, her vision blurring. " Silus is... was .... the bravest person I know. His sacrifice was... it was everything..." Hazel's voice broke, and she bit her lip, pausing awkwardly. A sudden rush of pain filled her nose as more tears threatened to fall. She extricated one of Indira's tissues. Wiping her eyelids quickly before continuing, "Losing him is the hardest thing I've ever gone through." Her lip quivered, and she felt anger and sorrow wash over her. She knew they would ask about him, but it didn't prepare her for the pain she would feel. She looked out at the crowd's captivated faces, tears shimmered in the eyes of strangers. How bizarre it was for prey to explain their plight to the predator. She shook her head, pushing down the anger and letting the sadness take over, "He gave everything so that I could stand here today. I know he would want me to be strong and honor his memory."
Out of the corner of her eye, Dr. Gaul and Snow gazed at her intently. Be the Victor the people are expecting. She cleared her throat, wiping away another errant tear, "I like to think that his sacrifice, and the sacrifices of all the tributes, remind us of the strength and resilience that lie within each of us."
A smattering of sniffles filled the space, and soon, the rumble of applause followed. Lucky nodded, "I think I can speak for all of us here that these Games, as well as you, Miss Hazel Marlowe, will not be soon forgotten."
Applause followed cheers. Lucky grinned wider, "Ladies and gentlemen, our remarkable victor, Hazel Marlowe! Let's give her another round of applause!"
Hazel's eyes burned, but relief at the questioning ending cooled her warm face. She moved back clumsily with the crutches until she was in line with Indira and Festus. Eyes of the crowd flickering to her, whispering admiration, pity, and, at times, envy.
Snow smiled as he strode forward, catching Lucky's arm, and whispered something in his ear.
As the clapping died down, Lucky approached the microphone once again, "We have one more surprise for you all. Our very own Senator Snow has an announcement of his own."
Senator Snow, pristine in his suit, addressed the nation, "Citizens of Panem," Snow's voice vibrated across the square. "Today, I stand before you not only as your Senator but as someone who has had the privilege of shaping the Hunger Games under the guidance of my brilliant mentor, Dr. Volumina Gaul."
Dr. Gaul's face remained stoic, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of pride.
"The Games are an event that unites us all in a shared tradition and ... spectacle. However," Snow continued, "there comes a time when even the most cherished roles must evolve. It is with both sadness and gratitude that I announce my decision to step down as Gamemaker."
A collective gasp swept through the crowd, followed by a surge of whispers. Gaul's expression tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line, pride fading into something infinitely colder; so much for unity.
Snow raised a hand to quiet the assembly. "I am stepping down to focus fully on my political career, to serve Panem in a broader capacity. The Games will always hold a special place in my heart, but my vision for Panem's future requires my undivided attention."
The people's murmurs turned into a mix of applause and speculative mumbling. Hazel watched Gaul, who now wore a forced smile.
"To ensure that the Games continue to thrive under innovative and passionate leadership," Snow announced, his voice taking on a warm tone, "I have appointed Mr. Augustus Trask to take my place."
Hazel's eyes darted to Augustus, who stood straighter, acknowledging the Capitol's people with a nod.
"Augustus Trask is a dedicated patron of the Games," Snow continued, "and he brings a wealth of creativity and vision to this esteemed position. Under his guidance, I am confident that the Games will reach new heights of excellence."
Applause broke out once again, with some cheering enthusiastically and others exchanging curious glances. The other victors whispered among themselves.
Augustus ascended the stairs with ease. His light tan eyes found Hazels for a brief moment before turning to Snow. He reached out, shaking Snow's hand firmly. "Thank you, Senator Snow," he began," It is an honor to take on this role, and I assure you that the future of the Games is bright. Together, we will continue to celebrate the spirit of Panem through innovation and creativity."
The applause grew louder, and Augustus's eyes gleamed. Hazel couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in her stomach. She glanced back at Gaul, whose smile had become a rigid mask, her eyes flicking between Snow and Augustus.
Snow stepped back to the podium, raising his hands for silence once more. "Let us look forward to a future where our traditions are honored, and our potential is fully realized. Together, we will make Panem stronger than ever."
Everyone shouted their approval at once, and Hazel's heart thumped in her chest as she watched the scene unfold. Snow's calculated move had shifted the power dynamics, and the implications were already rippling around her.
Hazel turned her attention back to Augustus, who was already being swarmed by reporters and officials, basking in the newfound attention.
Snow approached Dr. Gaul and held out his hand. She took it with gritted teeth as he whispered something into her ear.
Festus and Indira wore matching looks of shock at the announcement.
Lucky attempted to control the growing excitement: "Thank you, Senator Snow! And now, our new Gamemaker, Augustus Trask, and Dr. Gaul will be available to answer your questions. But before we get ahead of ourselves, let's give our new Victor a warm goodbye as she makes her way home."
Senator Snow gestured for Augustus and Gaul to take center stage. Augustus beamed with pride while Gaul barely maintained her simmering calmness.
The crowd erupted in applause and cheers as Hazel, leaning on her gold crutches, waved and limped closer to the stairs.
Snow called her name, and she froze, briefly considering throwing herself down the stairs before he could reach her. But the thought was quickly replaced as his arm looped around her waist. She stiffened as he lifted her again, her side pressed tightly against his body, and her other arm curled around her knees. Fresh embarrassment washed over her.
"You sure know how to make an exit," she muttered.
As they descended the stairs, he whispered, "Like I said, couldn't let you have all the spotlight." She did her best to ignore how close his face was to hers or how his words brushed her ear.
"You can have it," she replied.
"You might reconsider one day. You did well. Very well."
She stared out at the faces of those who watched them with captivated interest. Nausea boiled within her, "When can I see Silus?"
Snow's expression grew more serious as he thrummed his fingers over her knee. "I'm taking you to him now."
As they reached the base of the stage, Snow carried her beyond the stairs and eased her down inside the coach.
Hazel stared at him, trying to figure out what schemes played out behind those blue eyes, but they gave nothing away.
"What does all of this mean?" she whispered, waving her hand at the stage. She swore she could almost see the smoke coming from Dr. Gaul's ears.
"Consider this the beginning of a new chapter."
Hazel glanced down at her garish white and gold outfit; the aroma of white roses filled her lungs. "New beginnings..."
"Precisely. Everything will become clear soon. Patience, Miss Marlowe." A hint of a crooked smile curved over his lips as his eyes flickered to hers before he backed away and ducked into a waiting escort vehicle.
"Let's get you home," Indira murmured, settling down next to her.
The carriage began its slow journey through the streets of the Capitol, retracing the path Hazel had walked on her first day in the city. The street clattered beneath the horses' hooves, and the faces of Capitol citizens blurred together in a whirlwind of cheers and well-wishes.
"Why didn't you tell me," Hazel commented as the three jostled in their seats.
Festus and Indira were quiet before Festus finally murmured, "We wanted to, Hazel."
Hazel let out a puff of air through her nose. Her mind spun, the mental and emotional weariness seeping into her bones.
Behind them, Snow's sleek car reflected the city's grandeur. The journey was surreal and painful in more than one way. The weight of her loss pressed down on her as the coach moved closer to the train station.
The grand train station loomed ahead, and horses whinnied and pawed at the ground as they came to a halt at its wide double doors. Festus and Indira helped extricate Hazel from the carriage. She steadied herself as her golden crutches clinked softly against the pavement; they dug into her armpits. Peacekeepers flooded around them, keeping the pulsating masses at bay.
The black car pulled up behind them. Hazel turned to see Snow stepping out. His blond hair caught the bright sunlight, and his sharp blue eyes scanned the crowd. His striking red jacket was now folded over one of his arms. Snow smiled and waved at the crowd.
As he moved closer, his smile remained set, but his eyes flickered with something unreadable.
Hazel's heartbeat pulsated in her ears as he approached. "Where is Silus? Why aren't we going to see him?"
"Hazel..." Indira whispered a warning, but Snow cut her off by raising his hand. Indira and Festus stiffened.
Snow gestured toward the grand doors of the station. "We are."
As the massive doors to the train station slid open, Hazel's heart stopped. The sight hit her like a physical blow, and she swayed on her crutches, nearly losing her balance. Before her, in the cavernous, luxurious expanse of the station, stood a row of twenty-three caskets prepared for transport, each draped in the colors of their respective districts.