Timber

Chapter Seventeen: Dance with the Devil

Hazel's steps slowed until they stopped in the center of the grand marble dance floor. Couples beside them adjusted their movements to avoid the sudden blockade, and the music, once a backdrop to their evening, diminished in significance.

The ambient chatter and laughter were replaced by a hushed silence as a few of the Capitol's elite watched the scene unfolding before them. The weight of countless pairs of eyes pressed down on her.

"And what could my father possibly have to do with all of this?" Hazel retorted, her voice laced with a defensive edge that cut through the air. Her father, often lost in his own world, possibly entangled in the machinations of the Games, seemed far-fetched. Her mind flickered back to a memory of him, tipsy, saying he'd eat popcorn while karma caught up with Oren. She had never taken his drunken musings seriously; how could someone so frequently inebriated have any real influence or insight?

Aaron's eyes bore into hers, his voice low and intense. "You truly have no idea?" he asked, his grip on her arm tightening. "Wake up, Hazel."

Their intense exchange was interrupted by an authoritative voice. "Tributes, is there a problem here?"

As Hazel turned, she was met with Senator Snow's glacial gaze. Standing beside her, Aaron tensed, his hands betraying a faint tremor.

"Everything's perfectly fine, Senator," Hazel responded with a fake calm, her voice smooth and composed. Snow's gaze lingered on them, his expression unreadable yet tinged with a hint of skepticism.

"If that's the case," Snow then turned his attention to Aaron, his tone courteous yet commanding. "Aaron, would you mind if I steal her?" he asked, extending his hand toward Hazel. Dancing with Snow was the last thing she wanted, especially now, but refusing wasn't an option.

She swallowed her apprehension, a lump forming in her throat, as Aaron stepped back, giving Snow the floor. "Of course, Sir," Aaron said, yielding his place with a mix of respect and reluctance. Snow's hand was steady as Hazel placed hers in his, it was firm yet surprisingly gentle. He guided her into the dance with practiced ease, his other hand resting with a light but assertive hold on her waist. The onlookers from the Capitol cast curious glances their way, their eyes like prying daggers.

Snow's voice was a soft murmur as they danced, almost like he was engaging in a casual conversation rather than a calculated exchange. "So, what did the mayor's son say that upset you?" Hazel hesitated. The pause was a moment too long, and Snow, perceptive as ever, prodded, "You can tell me."

Weighing her options, Hazel decided to offer a partial truth. "He made some unkind remarks about my father," she said, keeping her voice steady.

Snow appeared to ponder her words. "Ah, and here I thought District Ten had a high opinion of Oren Starling," he said as if the name brought back memories. Hazel's eyes met his, trying to read the intentions behind those icy blue depths. She was torn between relief that he didn't hear Aaron's words regarding Heath and concern that he knew of Oren. More importantly, he knew District Ten appeared to have a relationship with him.

"You know of him?" Her words came out slow and hesitant.

Snow responded with a charming, almost disarming smile. "Miss Marlowe, I think you are underestimating me," he said.

Hazel's scrutiny swept across the room, "Perhaps I am, but you haven't answered my question," she pressed.

Snow's expression was mild amusement, yet his words had an underlying seriousness. "I make it a point to stay informed about significant individuals across all districts. It's important to keep a pulse on things."

"I see." She muttered, afraid to ask anything else in fear of giving away what she knew. Changing the subject, she asked, "Do you always dance with tributes?" Hazel inquired as they swayed to the music, very conscious of her palm resting on his shoulder while his hand remained at her waist. Hazel was keenly aware of the many eyes on them, both in the room and through the ever-present cameras. "It might appear odd and like you are displaying favoritism," she added, keeping her tone measured.