The Great War.

VII

"Strategy Sets the Scene for the Tale."

The annoying voices in my head hadn't tortured me in my dreams, and despite the fact that anger and frustration were slowly consuming my body, I managed to sleep peacefully. I have a slight suspicion that they drugged my drinks during dinner to keep me calm. I don't look into it, but I also don't rule out the possibility.

I wake up with the sun, as usual. It's around six in the morning, and I can see how the warm orange sunlight hues paint the city. This place holds a certain charm that I haven't seen elsewhere. I make my way to the bathroom and randomly press the buttons on the control panel until the water temperature becomes perfect. Pink foam with a sweet scent cascades over me, so sweet that it makes me hungry.

I get out of the shower and place my feet on the special drying mat. I find a couple bottles of what seems to be moisturizer, and I pick the one with a flowery pattern on it. It has a pleasant scent, and my skin absorbs it right away.

I have a tight-fitting long-sleeved shirt, a pair of leather boots, and wide pants set out in front of the closet for me. The clothes are all black and fit my physique like a second skin. I put my hair up in a high ponytail and go looking for something to eat. I'm surprised to see that the table has already been set with an impressive buffet. Except for a woman in the center of the common area, nobody else has woken up yet.

She was the one who delivered my flowers the previous night. Her hair cascades down to her waist, and this morning she has painted her body golden, like gold. She doesn't say a word, and that's when I understand that she's an Avox. The Capitol has punished traitors like her by having their tongues cut out. I'm not one to talk much, but I can't imagine life without being able to speak.

I fill a small bowl with pieces of melon, bananas, grapes, and strawberries. Since we are starting with the training today, I decided not to overeat. Carrying my breakfast, I settle into the spacious armchair in the common room, eating quietly as I watch the sunrise. Twenty minutes later, Ezra and Brutus enter the dining area, greeting me enthusiastically before helping themselves to breakfast.

Ezra is another victor from District 2, a tall and muscular man with gray hair who looks to be around sixty. He's not very talkative, but I know he works closely with the other mentors, likely handling sponsor deals as Armelle does.

Armelle is a woman in her fifties. She has dark hair and is tiny and slim. Like Ezra, she isn't very talkative, at least not with me. I have had no contact with either of these two victors, whom I see as invisible mentors.

Lyme discreetly peeks into the dining and, unnoticed by the others, signals for me to follow her. I get up from the armchair and follow her until we reach Enobaria's room. As soon as I enter, we speak in hushed voices. They reveal a plan to give me an advantage in the arena, but emphasize that it must remain a secret among the three of us.

They both explain that it's a technique they used during their own Games, which can help conserve my energy and prevent overexertion. I'm relieved that we're on the same page because I had previously contemplated leveraging my alliances, and the fact that my mentors approve it gives me the go-ahead to move forward with my plan.

"I don't think it'll be difficult for you to manipulate Marvel," Enobaria asserts. "He's a seventeen-year-old boy, after all. You're pretty, and I assume you can play the part a little."

"Neither of you have spent much time with people of the opposite sex," Lyme says. "We'll use human nature against him, if you get what I mean."

It's not the approach that I had in mind, but I admit it's a fast track. They also tell me that I should avoid the cameras once in the arena because it could alter my image in front of the sponsors. I need to set up traps for that boy during the remaining time we have before the games begin. After that, it would be like dominoes cascading in a line.