Let The Games Begin.

Dispute

Slipping out of my room and down the hall to the left, I step into the throne room. Ascending to the throne, I cross my legs at the knee. Inhaling deeply, I take in the details of the room, quickly noticing how empty it is. 

A commotion from the main hall draws my attention away from the drab walls. It sounds like two - no three - people arguing. When the group comes around the corner, the first thing I notice is the goat being tugged behind them, hay hanging from it's mouth. Leaping from the throne, I move to the edge of the dais, waiting for the two men to notice me. The hoplite that escorted them in already has, and is standing quietly behind the men. Taking one of the only things I learned from my father, I raise my fingers to my mouth and let out an ear-splitting whistle. Both of the men flinch, slowly turning towards me. 

     "Who are you and why are you in my palace?" I demand, eyeing both of them. "And why is that goat in here. It's filthy. Take it out!"

     "Your majesty, that's why we're here." One of the men says, stepping forward. "This goat was found wandering between our properties. I claim the goat, and so does this man. I'm sure the goat is mine but he insisted we let you settle it since we know your verdict cannot be undone."

The other man stepped up beside his counterpart, tugging the goat along behind him. "I know the goat is mine! Look at the markings sheared into the hair!" He shouts, gesturing to the left side of the goat. 

I study the men carefully. Both tall and lean, the one who approached first has a hooked nose, and curly black hair. The other, thin features and cropped hair. Both wear dirty field clothes. 

I lean over, glancing past them at the trail of dirt and mud that followed them in. Grimacing at the mess, I turn my attention back to the men.

     "You have one minute to admit who the goat belongs to before I decide for you."

The men start speaking at the same time, getting louder and louder with each sentence. Now irritated, I send another whistle ringing through the air and then nod to the hoplite behind them. "Take the goat to slaughter and donate the meat to the temple." Turning, I sit back into the throne, crossing my legs again.

     "No! Wait- please," the first man pleads, dropping to his knees. "This is my goat, princess. Truthfully, I swear it. Do not take her away from my family. If letting him take her means she can stay alive, I will relinquish her but, please, do not kill her."

     "Hm," I say, glancing to the other man, who crosses his arms and begins grumbling. I can't catch all of what he said, but I heard enough to make my decision. To the hoplite, I say, "Take the goat from the man with the shaven head and see him out." Turning my attention to the other young man, who is now bent fully over, face pressed to the floor. 

     "Get up." I command. When he does, I ask, "What's your name?"

     "Peeta, your grace." He rubs one soiled hand over the opposite shoulder. For the first time, he raises his gaze to mine, the features of his face softening. "Thank you, princess."

I nod, gesturing at the goat who was slowly making its way to the door that leads into the garden, the click of small hooves steady against the granite floors. Peeta jumps, scrambling after the small creature, scooping it up before it can run away. Turning back, he says, "I will never forget this kindness." He follows the same direction the hoplite did, pausing just before he makes it to the door to glance back at me. 

     "If he causes you any trouble over my decision, please come back. If you feel like your life is in danger, give him the goat and come to me. I will replace her for you."

With a solemn look on his face, he nods once and then turns and disappears around the corner. Once I am sure he is gone, I call for a hoplite and request the mess be cleaned immediately. Nodding, he rushes off into the bowels of the palace. A short while later, a band of maids arrive with various cleaning supplies. Informing them that I want the throne room sealed after it's cleaned, I rise from the throne and take a trip into the garden.

Moving slowly through the rows of topiary, I think back to how simple things could have been. Perhaps, Marcellus and I could have come to know each other in a way that wasn't lined with hatred and anger for one another. Perhaps, we could have been in love, even. I shake my head, dismissing the thought. It's too late now, and probably doesn't help that I threatened his life. If he would leave Greece, the threat would take effect. That's probably why he won't leave. He knows I can't keep my word if he stays; my threat was only if he leaves and tries to return.

Clasping my hands behind my back, I continue through the maze of bushes, eventually ending up at the fountain in the center. As expected, the palace artists are there, sketching their muse of choice. Nodding their acknowledgment, I pass them and continue through the other side of the topiary maze. When I break through the other side, I find myself in front of the stables. Biting my lip, I ponder if I should disturb Achilles. I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Glancing right, and then left, I jump when a stable hand emerges from the barn. Dropping into a low bow, he asks, "Anything I can do for you, princess?"

I pause, peering past him into the stables. "Prepare my horse and bring it to the front. I'm going for a ride."

He bows again, turning back into the stables. Stealing one more quick glance around, I about-face, grimace at the sudden painful reminder that I don't have any shoes on and head back to the palace.