The Prince and the Pauper •Everlark•

Chapter Four: The Dress

Katniss's POV

I am woken by the three most unusual people I have ever laid eyes on. Once my eyes are open, they start babbling. They tell me their names are Octavia, the plump short woman with the longest nails ever, Venia, the tall slim woman with hair so curly I don't believe it is real, and Flavius, the only man in this group with orange hair in large curls that don't move when he does. They tell me they are maids of Peeta, and by their sweet, high pitched voices, they are from the Capitol and can do no harm to me.

They yank the warm blanket off and inform me Peeta had things to sort out. I am left to the cold air sticking my sweaty nightgown to my body until Octavia and Flavius help me up by my arms. They are careful with my head, my injury making me light headed. I am taken to the bathroom where Venia is bent over the giant tub and is filling it with warm water and bubbles. Never in my life have I taken a real bath with bubbles and soap the scent of lavender and maids at my fingertips. Is this how Peeta lives every day?

I am stripped of my nightgown, the unfamiliar feeling of eyes of my naked body makes me gasp, sending the three's eyes off of me. Flavius hands me a white robe, looking as far from me as possible. One of his hands keeps me steady as I slip it on, I giggle. It relaxes the team a little.

They leave me to get into the tub and get comfortable, then I would call them when I am ready for my makeover. Something I question but am left unanswered as they have already gone from the room.

The bathroom is luxurious. The window sits by the tub taking the view of the district, the tub overflowed with bubbles and warm water waiting for me, a full body mirror and stand with makeup and products for hair and body. The tile at my feet is white and sparkles, the rug at the edge of the tub calls for me, and I walk to it, dropping the robe to the floor. I step into the tub of warmth and sigh, my wounds sting but am satisfied in feeling warm once again.

I call the three back after a few minutes, they come bursting into the room, toppling over each other. I give them a friendly smile as they give me a pleading look to see if I'm ready.

Flavius begins washing my skin with soap that smells of the outdoors, Octavia scrubs my hair with some type of shampoo that sting my cut. She apologizes but I decline her, saying it was my mistake of not telling her to be gentle. Venia attends to my nails that I chew on at whatever time possible. She scolds me for doing such a thing, saying I have such beautiful nails that would look lovely in a rich mocha color.

Once I have been scrubbed and smothered in such things they take me out of the tub to dry. I am handed the robe again, being more comfortable in front of them as they know me and I know them after talking for so long. I am sat in a chair in front of the mirror and to be at work.

I get my hair done, the cuts on my arms and legs healed, my face is cleaned of dirt from who knows how long ago. Flavius makes my skin smooth and soft and perfect, Octavia sets my hair in loose curls and Venia has my nails gelled and painted over with that mocha color. My face is perfected from the freckles that I have gained over the years hunting and my eyebrows have been shaped. My body is free of unwanted hair, which was so painful I bit my tongue until it bled. I have been plucked, scrubbed and burnt fresh by the time they are done with me.

"Tada!" Octavia says as I look in the mirror. I almost gasp at the girl reflecting me.

I look porcelain, like a doll made of glass on a display. Once I have gotten a good look at myself, they apply minimum makeup. Flavius comments that I have a perfect complexion, which makes me blush.

"And here are the dresses!" Flavius says, opening doors to a room down the hall of mine. It is more a closet than a room, and it is gigantic, possibly bigger than my room itself. Racks of dresses hang over one other against the walls with too many dresses to count. The room itself is the color of a pearl, with white tiles like the bathroom in my room. Windows let in fresh light and warmth. A grand chandelier hangs from the ceiling, sending rays of colors against the walls. Dresses from every color to every design sit here, blues, yellows, reds, greens, long trains or wild skirts. Shoe boxes pile through another doorway, along with hats to join the attire. The three behind me laugh at my amazement.