the ruler [THE HUNGER GAMES]¹

Thirteen.

PEETA and Katniss look show stopping. Once again tied together by the details in their outfits, they adorn beautiful red and navy colours. Katniss wears a dress that looks like it's made of feathers, her long hair down except for a braided crown around her head. Peeta wears a dark suit with his hair styled up in a handsome fashion. There is no denying the attractiveness of Panem's favourite couple. If I made an impression with my arrival, they completely blew any thought of me out of the Capiol's minds.

The party has just started but I am grazing off the huge buffet of food along one side of the extensive garden, scanning the area for a familiar face. If I could just corner Jacinth and force him to stay with me for the night I would be happy. All I can see are crazy coloured wigs, surgically altered bodies and vibrant clothing. I know Katniss and Peeta are probably still inside, doing their duty and greeting every guest that Effie Trinket can find. It's just standard practise as the victors that this whole thing is for.

"Enjoying that?" An unrecognisable voice comes from behind me, causing me to whip around and drop the toffee biscuit I had been nibbling on for five minutes. He laughs and grabs the plate of them, offering me another.

I take one with a suspicious eyebrow raised, "Thank you?"

He nods and places the plate back down, extending a hand out for me to shake which I do, "Plutarch Heavensbee. Head Gamemaker."

My suspicion is replaced with shock as I ungracefully finish off my biscuit, "Oh! What happened to Seneca?"

"Let's just say he lost the job," Plutarch's tone insinuates what Finnick and I have been guessing over the phone for months. You don't just lose a job like head Gamemaker and go down the ranks. He's dead.

"Well, congratulations. Despite the circumstances," I say. I couldn't hate anybody more than I hate Gamemakers, the twisted minds behind the Games that make them so violent, but as a victor and more importantly, mentor, I have to show respect.

"I appreciate it. Would you like to dance?" He offers me a hand to the dance floor and I take it. He steers me to the centre of a mass of dancing Capitol citizens and places his hands respectfully on my arm and hand to match the slow music.

"So what made you come out of retirement?" I question as we move around other bodies, the clatter loud enough to drown out our conversation. Plutarch Heavensbee comes from a very rich family line and is one of the most famous Gamemakers from the past. I know all this from my classes on the Hunger Games in the academy. It is considered somewhat of an honour to have him lead your Games back home.

"I saw a lot of potential with this years games. What with the Quarter Quell coming up and a very shocking previous year to follow. I liked the challenge," he raises his shoulders in a soft shrug.

I had almost forgotten that this year is the third Quarter Quell, the special Games set every twenty five years to remind the districts that the Capitol is still in control. They are much grander in scale and always have some sort of twist in the reaping process. The first quell saw the tributes being reaped by a voting system. I can't imagine being voted to your death by your entire District. The second saw twice as many tributes. That was the year Haymitch won.