𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄 ▸ HUNGER GAMES [ 1 ]

SIX

SIX -

The train station is heaving when we reach the Capitol.

Hadley and I are separated and instantly whisked off to meet our prep teams. Their job is to strip everything District about us until we're good enough to be passed on to our stylists, who will dress us in our themed garb for the tribute parade.

Our boy and girl are almost always dressed in gold, silver, or the sandy colour of the brick dust we are coated with each day. Bulky armour-like outfits designed to reflect our renowned mason's strength and more subtly, our success in the arena.

Despite this, a couple of more recent stylists have chosen the Peacekeeper route instead, donning our tributes in altered versions of the Capitol's law-enforcement uniforms. I hope this year's stylist prefers jewel tones to military whites – any memories of my father are not welcome here in this city. The city he abandoned us for.

I lay back on a metal bed in the Remake Centre as a collection of people dressed similarly to Tallulah totter about on their heels and rid my body of unnecessary hair. My eyebrows are plucked into shape and my skin is covered in all manner of lotions and ointments, as a woman named Augusta, with a wig made entirely of multicoloured feathers, chatters with her colleague about, much to my horror, Hadley.

"That boy must have the best genes in District 2, I tell you." Giggles the other of my prep team, a surprisingly young woman called Luciana, with bright orange hair fashioned into a perfect bow on the back of her head. She's probably only around nineteen or so, and it's clearly her first year in the team. "Of course, that family all scrub up pretty well, don't you think?"

It takes me a moment to realise she's speaking to me. "Uh-uh I guess so." I manage to stammer out, grateful when Augusta distracts her with another comment about all the scars my skin has collected over the years.

Healed training wounds from the Academy, but also earlier scrapes from trips and falls climbing up the rocky slopes and mountains surrounding 2. The sudden memory of home, the sun beating down upon the dusty roads, the sound of the stonecrafters whistling their age-old songs of mighty battle on their way to work, sends my heart jolting in my chest. I clutch at Loren's necklace and will myself not to let it show as the two women make the final finishing touches to my body.

"Right, I think it's time to call Sabetha!" Grins Augusta, and the two women disappear in a trail of rainbows and glitter. The Capitol fashions and accents are so eccentric on my District eyes and ears that there is no way to truly process anything about them without a minute or so extra time. I'm still trying to decipher their comments about Hadley, whilst wrapped in a pale blue robe with my sopping wet hair clinging to the nape of my neck and dripping rivulets down my spine, when a third Capitol woman steps into the room alone.

Whereas my pair of prep ladies were bright and colourful, this woman – Sabetha, they called her – is all white. I instantly think we may have chosen the nickname 'Ice Woman' for the wrong person in 2, as Sabetha is pale as a ghost and decked out in a shade even lighter. Even her hair is white as fresh snowflakes, falling almost to her thighs and braided into an intricate net. The only things about her which seem to hold a vague pigmentation are the heavy pewter cuffs around her wrists and neck, and the acidic green of her eyes.

"Good afternoon, Clove isn't it." Sabetha holds out a hand. Her nails are short compared to most of those I've noticed in the Capitol so far but are painted bright silver and sharpened into talons. I can tell why this woman is the stylist for 2 – she looks like a weapon herself.

"Yes, that's-" I begin, but the woman cuts me off, raising a violently clawed palm. I stop talking immediately, eyes trained on her as she circles me, a smile not unlike Sidonia's trademark smirk creeping onto her face. White feathered lashes frame her bright green eyes, glinting beneath the glow of the lights overhead.