Worth it | F.O.

XVII

Caesar greeted her with a smile, the audience did with deafening cheers, and she greeted them with a low exaggerated bow pulling back the fabric around her thigh even further and a brief pat on the cheek to the green man of the next three minutes along with a highly suggestive comment of, “You look rather handsome as well, sir” after his own, “Isn't she stunning!” that only brought on peals of laughter. 

Detestation was much too mild of a word for her feelings then. 

“So,” Caesar said a moment later as she took the seat beside him with as much grace as she could manage, hands tucking her skirt beneath her. “You may think me forward but I'm certain we're all thinking it here,” he paused and flashed a smile to the audience. “That was quite a spectacle at your reaping. Was this planned?”

“Why of course.” She allowed her lips to curl into just enough of a hint of a humorous smirk. The crossing of her bare legs with the fabric slipping away was certainly not unplanned either, nor was the angle she allowed the audience to view her from. Her eyes at least remained even to them as cold as could be. “How else would I have managed it?”

Caesar thankfully laughed it off. “Then may I ask how you did manage such a spectacle? Because I know for certain none of us were expecting it!” He chuckled as it echoed among the people once more. 

She allowed a shrug, resisting the urge to scratch at the tight bejeweled collar around her neck. “Just some good comradery, I suppose.”

“Oh, it's got to be more than that.”

“You caught me,” she admitted, shifting so her side lay against the back of the chair, stomach sucked in and waist curved. Her smile was coy. “Some did need… persuasion.”

Nivea would let them do with that what they wished (her version of the situation was a mere reassurance of life, wealth, and food following after for the greater good). 

A mixture of laughing, gasping, applauding, and screaming came thereafter. That smirk, barely a hint of one really, returned all too quickly to her painted lips of the richest bark as if it were her second nature and greatest desire to manipulate as she was with an extra wink tossed in to reap full effect - which it really and truly was. Caesar laughed it off just as easily as he did anything properly suggestive, children's fights to the death to reign in obedience for example, and quickly directed the conversation entirely elsewhere. 

“How scandalous!” he cheered with plastic joy matching his grin that soon curved to form something more conversational and overall serious. “Now, I was curious about something else; I know we've already asked so much but would you indulge us this last time?”

“Of course, Caesar. Do you expect me to deny you?”

“Well I'd hoped not. Curiosity is a rather nasty beast y'know!”

Nivea was growing tired of the predictability of their laughter. 

“Believe me, I know.” She paused for a moment, letting the light pouring from above and around, the audience of thousands, the disgusting man before her, and the senile old man she knew to be watching pour a sense of power into her veins for she knew even more then how high above them she was; they were nothing more than sickly spiders beneath her boot who wished so very much to make her skin crawl and trap all that they viewed as mere flies on the wall to watch and manipulate in their webs. “What would you like to ask?”

“Well, it may have just been me but I thought multiple people volunteering was against the rules. Is it not?”

“Oh. Well,” she paused again though minutely, carefully arranging the words awaiting on her tongue with a nonchalant shrug, raised brows, and twisted lips with a corner strategically lifted upon her cheek. “I suppose it's never actually been directly banned; we just assumed it was. But thank goodness it wasn't or I wouldn't have been able to be here today instead of one of those other poor girls.”