"Oh, I have my methods in getting exactly what I want, and right now, my eyes are set on as many hot chocolate as I can get my hands on,"
Goodness, he was excellent, there was no denying it! Yassia couldn’t help but be impressed at his quick and witty retort, and of course there was still a little hint of flirtation behind it all, or was she imagining the playful emphasize on the words ‘right now’? Clearly, the young duke knew what he wanted and there was no doubt he usually got it as well, whatever it may be. She had been like that once, Yassia realized, and maybe she would be again, once she had been restored as heir and owner to the Dyfrène Holding. She didn’t harbor much hope her setbacks would have changed her much, after all, right now she was only lacking the opportunities to get everything she wanted. She hadn’t lied about her fighting spirit though, it was the reason she was here right now, after all. Regrouping and collecting new forces, that was her plan for now, and it eventually would lead somewhere. All she needed was a good plan to counter Guifré’s and Stephane’s viciousness and lack of scruples.

"So consider yourself warned, and may the best man or woman win,"
Yassia gave a curt nod and mimicked his tone, when she said: “We have a deal, Sir!” Only a twinkling in her eyes betrayed that she was by no means being serious in her aggressive demeanor, even though an outsider might have surely guessed that. It was all part of their game, and Yassia was enjoying every second of it! There was no saying how long it would last, but she would not let that spoil her fun now.

One thing that surprised her about the young duke though was that he seemed by no means haughty. If not for his visit here, she might have bumped into him on the street and not realized at all that he was of noble birth, or used to much luxury. His words seemed genuine enough, and there was real excitement and gratitude in his eyes; he wasn’t just faking these things for courtesy’s sake. He was quite a mystery to Yassia, as she had never quite run across someone as intriguing as him. She’d like to get to know him better, maybe solve a few of those riddles that seemed to surround him like an aura – but maybe she was walking into his web with eyes wide open and would get entangled in another scandal? The reporters outside had reminded her almost brutally of her own vulnerability. Every picture told a tale, and as such every picture was money. Whether the tale it told was right, was of no consequence.
“Didn’t you feel like that when still here?” she asked, genuinely interested, even though she couldn’t refrain from teasing him for too long. “Or were you such a dutiful student.”

Yassia only gave a curt nod and a smile at their set date, since her uncle was within earshot now. She stepped back to allow the headmaster to take over from here, even though she hoped this would not be the end of their conversation. Well… there was the chocolate and then their talk later, right? So, what was she thinking, being all jealous of her uncle now getting his attention?!
Kay Griffiths gave a grumbling snort, a very significant sound for him. It wasn’t much, but it had an unbelievable variation of meanings, and Yassia couldn’t hope to ever decipher them all. Right now he seemed rather amused though.
“You always were good with words, Strathmore!” he said, letting go of all formalities now, as if the duke was still his student. “But I hope you remember they never had much effect on me. I have a mirror in my room, thank you very much. Just so you know, I will keep an eye on you now just as I did a few years back.” And with that he even waggled his index finger.

***

And a deal they had indeed. Bauer would be fairly surprised that Oliver got himself into a wager (other than with his guards) before he had even technically set foot into the school building. And once he finds that it was with the beautiful and charming young niece of the headmaster, Bauer would probably just roll his eyes. Oliver can hardly resist getting himself "involved" one way or another with a woman wherever he may be. What Bauer would probably be surprised with is the fact that this lady was not skimpily clad or fawning all over him like his previous exploits had been. Oliver didn't like to work hard to get a lady's attention. Why would he when his status would afford him anything and everything he wanted, even girls. But it seems now that he was exerting every effort possible to get this particular lady's attention. Bauer would be most interested to know why. Oliver may have told him about the unfortunate accident involving a lady, but he had not told Bauer that lady was Yassia herself. His friends and their own assistants had taken cared of things for him when he left Yassia recuperating at the hospital.

�Didn�t you feel like that when still here? Or were you such a dutiful student.�

Oliver only gave Yassia an amused grin at her question. He knew, of course, that she was just teasing him or was even merely being polite. He doubted if she was really interested about his life as a student at RAA. Even though she had accommodated him with as much courtesy as she could muster in behalf of her uncle, Oliver could see that she wasn't really as enthusiastic as other women who had been tasked to meet him. Or was she holding back? Or was she being only polite but was inwardly hating him to the core because of what the media had portrayed him to be, a womanizing, happy-go-lucky royal brat? Somehow, Oliver wanted her to really know him and not be biased by what is on the news. Somehow, it mattered to him that she knew the real him.

Genuine laughter rang through the air as Oliver listened to his former headmaster's remarks about him. He was thoroughly pleased that Sir Kay Griffiths was not treating him like some high and mighty state dignitary, but like a student. Oliver wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Again, somehow it mattered to him that Yassia was watching all this interaction, and Oliver hoped to give her a good impression of himself. "Don't worry, Sir. Rest assured that I have not spiked the hot chocolate with rhum this time. Your niece can attest to that. She had been with me since I arrived," he told him, turning his head and giving a seemingly conspiratory wink at Yassia.

He waited for them to lead him to where they were going next, trying as much as possible to contain his excitement both at tasting the school's traditional hot chocolate and at seeing the finished gymnasium. "Before I forget, your niece was asking what kind of a student I had been. I figured you would be the best person to answer that," he said as he gestured for Yassia to join him and her uncle. No, he wasn't letting her off the hook that easily just because her uncle was finally here. While Oliver liked seeing the headmaster after all these years, he also didn't want to lose sight of Yassia just yet. "Be nice now, Sir," he added obviously teasing. Yes, Oliver was starting to feel very much at home now. This was no stiff social function where he needed to conduct himself seriously. This was his old alma mater, he practically grew up here. He'd rather enjoy this visit and relive the memories and emotions of those fun times he have had as student before.

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. "The honor is all mine,"
Now that didn’t sound like his usual empty phrases as well, but it was not so much the lack of fake enthusiasm that intrigued Yassia, it was the meekness in which it was said – as if not HE was the superior in this conversation, but she was. But that, of course, was ridiculous, and she ought not to read too much into everything he did or did not do. What was it to her after all? Hmm… maybe the question should better be: what SHOULD it be to her, as it clearly had a greater impact on her than was healthy. Why couldn’t it have been anyone else donation this blasted ice rink to the school? Why did it have to be him, just as she was here? Yassia didn’t much believe in fate, even though she had done a few tarot card readings for fun back when still at the hotel management school. But this, this was simply too much to be coincidence. The question now was: who was the scene writer of this play and what were his intentions?

He seemed to catch himself quickly again though, since his next remark was as lighthearted and slightly silly as you could get. They had strayed far from protocol long since, but Yassia found she enjoyed the banter they had been starting. It had been long since she last had found a willing counterpart for wit-games and she just couldn’t deny herself the fun of giving everything back to him to her best abilities. “You can try, Sir, of course, but I’ve been in fact known to hold tight to what I think is mine!” she teased, winking. “Simple prying won’t do, and you’d have to think up a LOT of good arguments to convince me to let go. So”, she made a dismissive gesture with her hand, “hate to break it to you, but your efforts might be entirely wasted and in the meantime you might have lost YOUR chocolate as well.”

Yassia couldn’t quite keep an amused chuckle down as he showed so much feign relief for not being tortured with the usual ‘greet a duke’ ceremony. “I bet you’re being put through such things a lot!” she commented sympathetically. She had been a celebrity in her own home, but not the representative kind, having to constantly show interest in the meanest of things. No, her way had be clear, even though things had come entirely different in the end, with her father’s untimely death and the shabby intrigue spun by her uncle and cousin. She would have been the puppeteer, not the puppet led into a dance. But oddly enough it was not that that irked her most, it was the shady dishonesty the ploy had been worked with, and the stain that would remain forever on her family’s name.
“Oh no, I for myself should be honestly glad”, she disagreed with him, smiling and shrugging. “It is a welcome distraction from my everyday duties, and I’m sure most of the students think the same. After all, they’re able to miss classes and homework.”

"I perfectly understand what you mean,"
She wasn’t too sure what to think of that. Did he? Did he really? Or was he just trying to appease her. Well, judging from the yellow press, he’d had a good amount of scandals himself, and maybe he wasn’t so unfazed by them as he would like people to believe. Not wanting to push this topic much further, she just gave an uneasy smile and a nod.
His request took her quite off guard, even though she immediately understood what he was getting at. So now they were finally tackling it, their big secret. Yassia couldn’t help but wonder what he would want to say about the matter. Would he explain why he had left without a word? Would he ask for forgiveness? Or would he ask her to please please not tell anything about that to the press? Would he trust her so little? “Sure!” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “We could go into my office or something.” She had wanted to say more, but in this moment the lightning storm of picture-crazy paparazzi befell them, and instinctively, Yassia hunched her shoulders and was all too glad to be pushed inside. “Voltors!” she growled. “Vultures!”

Then Kay Griffiths, headmaster of The Royal Alexandra and Albert School, finally had pushed his way towards them, and took Oliver’s hand. “Your Grace, what a pleasure to see your face again! Welcome back to your old alma mater.” Yassia was always surprised how different her uncle could act with variating groups of people. To his students he was strict, almost inapproachable, as if he just didn’t know how to best deal with them, but when they returned as grown men and women, he knew his manners quite well.


***


“You can try, Sir, of course, but I’ve been in fact known to hold tight to what I think is mine!”

He had expected another retaliation from her and he wasn't disappointed. This is most definitely the only time in all his years attending inaugurations and similar events where he was having so much fun with the welcoming party, so to speak. Some would either go silent, while some would talk so much nonsense or with all seriousness that almost often bores Oliver. But never like this. None had been so bold as to banter with him like this.

“...hate to break it to you, but your efforts might be entirely wasted and in the meantime you might have lost YOUR chocolate as well.”

Now, who could resist such a challenge. Certainly not Oliver. "Oh, I have my methods in getting exactly what I want, and right now, my eyes are set on as many hot chocolate as I can get my hands on," he replied with an impish smirk of his own. He had never looked forward with such excitement to a cup of hot chocolate in his life until now. "So consider yourself warned, and may the best man or woman win," he added, his voice turning all serious and business-like. If anyone were to hear only the last bit, they'd think that the duke and the headmaster's niece were in the middle of a rather hostile confrontation where both firmly holding their ground and not wanting to stand down. Oliver was shamelessly amused by the mere thought.

When Yassia told him that he wasn't such an inconvenience to the staff and the school at all, he gave her a smile feeling like a heavy load had been lifted off his back. He'd rather be greeted as simply as possible than cause so many disruptions that would make them wish he hadn't come to visit at all. "That's good to know. I am glad I can be a valid reason for missing classes and homework," he replied with a wink and a wide grin on his face. No, there was no sarcasm there, just pure and simple delight knowing they are looking forward to his visit just as much as he was.

Of course, she would say yes. She practically couldn't say no to a request from a duke, could she? Times like this, Oliver was glad that he had his title handy. He didn't know what he would do if Yassia would avoid being alone with him. He just needed to get the proverbial elephant in the room out of the way. "Thank you," he simply replied as the frenzy of the media outside was already distracting him as much as the foreign word that came out of Yassia' mouth. Yes, he had noticed her speak in a foreign tongue earlier. It sounded like Spanish, but it wasn't. Now, Yassia was becoming more and more intriguing by the minute. "My apologies for that," he said quickly as he saw the headmaster make his way towards them.

"Headmaster, the pleasure is all mine...well more now that I am no longer your student," he teased laughing, as he tightly clasped the older man's hand before giving him a quick hug. It was truly a great pleasure to see his former headmaster still up and about at the prime of his life, manning the school with the same fervor and commitment as he did back in Oliver's time. The headmaster was infamous among his students as a strict disciplinarian, a no-nonsense man that you couldn't easily trick nor deceive. Oliver was quite a regular in the headmaster's office for his many shenanigans. But he was nothing but truly fond of the man now. "You haven't aged a bit, still as dapper as ever."

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Now that she finally was meeting him face to face, and the shock had died down a bit, Yassia found herself faced with a turmoil of emotions. Shouldn’t she be angry at him, above all? He had run her over, driving too fast on a dangerous and overview-impaired forest street after all – but then she had been darting down a slope towards the same road, coming from above like deer crossing, and so she held at least part of the blame. He had taken care of her to his best ability, getting her to hospital and making sure she was perfectly looked after – and yet had vanished without a word, without a name, without an address. Now that she knew him to be who he was, that made a little more sense, but it still was a poor excuse in Yassia’s eyes. What had he been thinking, if anything at all? That she would just forget? But now, as she had finally the opportunity to confront him with it all, she found she had no idea just what to say should she be given the chance. How should she react? Or would he be the first one to bring it up? Well, she had started out nice, why not continue this line a little further and see what happened? If he had such a bad conscience about it, he would mention it.

His next move might not have been so scandalous as the kiss on her hand, but it was as unexpected. Yassia’s eyes widened for a second, but then they sparkled in poorly contained mirth. Boys! Boys indeed! Give them the little finger and they will take whole hand, or even the arm if they were bold enough. But then, there was a twist in protocol that prevented her from declining, and he probably knew that as well. It was always the call of the higher rank. What they said ought to be followed, if there wasn’t a dead good reason to act otherwise, and of course she had none. Then again, did she even want to decline? As staff, she would have normally have to abstain from this cup of chocolate, as it had been arranged all for him. Now, there was the chance she had secretly hoped for… and more.
“It would be an honor, Sir!” she accepted, adding a genuine, slightly mischievous smile to her words to make them sound more honest and less rehearsed. He probably had to listen to lip service enough in his life. Lowering her voice again, she added: “and you save me an acute assault of jealousy, which can only be fortunate.”

Again, Yassia had to hide a smile as the duke now let the students pass before him. That sly fox! He was playing this game excellently, and she couldn’t help but want to play along to it, even though she realized the tools he was using. He was just disarming this way, and, where was the harm after all? If flirting with her would benefit the school more in the end, who was she to step back from it? The only thing making her slightly uncomfortable was the hand he had placed on the small of her back. It was not displeasing, no, that it was NOT displeasing was what made her so uncomfortable. Even though she was wearing her winter coat, she imagined to feel his hand through it quite warmly, almost flaming against her skin… a dangerous paths for her thoughts to follow…
Hastily, she tried to focus on his words. “Not a song, nor a dance, no”[/color], Yassia assured, chuckling. “But a group has been working on a little choreography on ice they want to present later. They’ve been practicing for months on the municipal ice rink a few miles away, sacrificing their free time. They are psyched to show it, so no worries.”

His question took her slightly off guard, and a shadow crossed her face for a moment as she stared forward, hoping he would miss it. “I know what it is like to be forced to something you don’t want to do, if that is what you mean. And I’m also no stranger to public humiliation. But that is beside the point of course”, she finished, working on a smile, hoping to change the subject.


***

For a moment there, he thought he saw hesitation. He could very well feel Yassia trying to calculate her response to his every move. He was hoping she wouldn't put so much effort into formulating a response just because he was a duke. He have had more than enough of people changing their actions and reactions towards him because of his title and not because of who he really is...a person. But of course, it cannot be helped. People know him as the Duke of Richmond and the heartless womanizer, and only a few of them know him as Oliver Leofric Strathmore, the crazy, fun-loving guy who really just want to be treated like an ordinary kid.

He had expected her to accept his offer out of courtesy, of course, but what he didn't expect was the genuine honesty in her voice. That impish little smile that accompanied it just made a mad frantic effect on the emotions inside him. He didn't know exactly what she just did to him, but he liked it. He didn't know what just hit him, but yes, he liked it very much. "The honor is all mine," he replied a tad bit timidly, seemingly out of character for him. She had completely taken him offguard with that smile and Oliver felt like he wasn't ready for it. Like all other women, he had expected her to be all coy and blushing about it, but no. She met him head on, and Oliver found that rather refreshing. He wanted more. "Jealousy? I haven't had a cup of the school's hot chocolate for ages. You may have to hold on tightly to yours or I might snatch it from you," he teased with a chuckle, enjoying this little time they were given. He wondered if they would have this same fun and light conversation had he stayed at the hospital and waited until she had fully waken up. He wondered what might have become of them if that happened.

He heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief when she told him there would be no song or dance numbers, and felt genuinely interested when she told him the students were preparing some presentation for him on ice. Now, that would be fun. "And I am now psyched to see it for myself," he replied as they finally piled into the school building after the students. "I hope this visit isn't such a hassle to you and to everyone. I don't mean to be such a disruption, but I really do appreciate all the effort that all of you are putting in." He knew he ought to save these words for later, to address to the students and to the staff of RAA, but Oliver just felt like he wanted to tell Yassia his feelings personally. Of course, he knew he would have to tell her uncle the same thing--and then maybe ask him a few more questions that are not necessarily related to the gymnasium or the school but about one particularly captivating lady that was helping him run the school.

Expecting an equally candid retelling of a fond childhood memory, Oliver once again was caught offguard by the sheer honesty in her answer. He couldn't help but feel the equal amount of intensity and pain that laced her voice when she spoke, and it made him turn his head to look closely at her. Beneath that genial countenance was a hurting person, and a crazy thing inside him made him want to reach out to her, to want to help her ease whatever it was that was casting that pall over her thoughts, to wipe away that gloom. She spoke of being forced into submission, of public humiliation, things that Oliver knew only too well living his own life. Her own dilemma was nothing as simple as being forced to sing or dance when you don't want to. It was something more. And it only made him ever more curious to know more about her. "I perfectly understand what you mean," he replied. Then a thought occurred to him, and he knew he had to take advantage of the moment. He stopped and turned to Yassia. "Would you be so kind as to spare me a little of your time later after the ceremonies? There is something of import that I needed to speak with you in private." Not soon after Oliver said the words, he felt a flash of light blind him for a split second, and he turned to see more than a dozen photographers, cameramen, and reporters now standing outside. The circus has finally arrived. Oliver gave them a small wave before practically pushing Yassia inside.

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It felt like walking into a brickwall – well, minus the pain, but the impact was the same. As soon as Duke Oliver of Richmond opened his mouth and spoke, there was no mistaking him, not in a thousand years. He had been indeed the man to run her over with his fancy car, and then… most of that incident was still shrouded in mist, as she had been half-unconscious at best all the time through until she woke up at hospital. She had beem getting in and out of sleep a few times and she had remembered his voice to be there at first, though what he had told her she couldn’t recall. And there was still one factor of it all she never knew to have dreamt or truly experienced. A short moment, just a wisp in time… where she had felt warm, soft and terribly sweet lips on hers. Even to think of it now made it hard not to blush, and most of his initial words when he spoke about his old school were lost to Yassia. She heard them, but she was too occupied to listen.

What did that mean for her now, she wondered. Would he even remember? She had thought to see a spark of recognition in his eyes earlier, and she only now could place it once she was sure herself. But then again, of course he would remember her face, you didn’t run people over everyday. There was nothing else to this of course… and she had been dreaming, delirious by the painkillers when she had thought to feel a kiss. Yes! Energetically, Yassia forced herself back into the present. She still needed to represent her uncle after all and she better completed this task to her best ability.

But then the most unexpected of all happened. In an instant, she felt her hand being taken into his, and instead of an informal handshake or anything she would have expected in the split second it happened, he put her hands to his lips, like she was a lady! It was a mixture of that and the sensation of his warm lips aspirating a kiss on the back of her hand that made her gasp in surprise – along with a great amount of the watching audience! – but she did not retreat her hand. Of course not, that would have been very impolite. Then again, a detached part of her mind thought, if this is how he usually ensnares women, then there’s no question of why he is so effective. That unexpected move really could make the strongest hearts falter!

And then he got even more personal, asking her with a low voice which side she had favoured, maybe to make her think he would follow her her lead for her own sake. But Yassia would not fall for such games, right? And it didn’t matter that she now knew him to be her savior… right?! “I’ve been playing it safe and howled with the pack, Sir!” she said with a little laugh, remembering that after the first mentioning of his title, a simple ‘Sir’ sufficed. “After all…” now she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as well, “ever since I’ve come here I disovered RAA’s self-made chocolate to be one of the things I could not possibly resist.” Was that bordering on flirting or was it still just being ‘nice’?`Yassia did not know, all that she knew was that the eyes of the whole school and the Duke’s entourage were on them now… and Yassia only felt self-confident in the spotlight when she knew what she was doing.

So she was glad it was the Duke of Richmond saving the situation from becoming awkward, in asking to lead the congregation inside, because of the weather. Immediately, a subdued cheer rose from young throats and chests and they started to shuffle towards the entrance that would lead them up the broad stairs towards the refectory.
“Of course, you are right, Sir!” Yassia quickly said with a thankful smile and then turned round to the already moving crowd. “Try to uphold at least SOME order, will you, nens I nenes!1” she called out rather fondly, then turned towards the duke again. “If you please would follow the pack, Sir, and I think there I see my uncle in the distance.” Shouldn’t Yassia feel relieved to have the responsibility of playing hostess lifted from her shoulders in the forseeable future? Then why was she feeling a pang of letdown at her uncle’s sight? Something must be going wrong in her brain today, there was no denying it.

1: 'boys and girls'

***

Oliver had to admit he had felt a bit let down when, upon seeing him, he saw no hint of recognition from Yassia. But as soon as he had spoken, he knew he saw something there click. Had she been trying to recognize him through his voice? It would sound understandable as she was mostly in and out of consciousness the last time. Still, Oliver was rather happy now that he had finally registered in her mind even just a bit, and that she didn't exactly give him the evil eye or anything. Of course, they were in public. She could very well claw his eyes out once they will be left alone. Oliver decided with mirth that he'd risk it nevertheless.

He ignored her gasp as those of the crowd when he pressed a kiss on the back of her hand. Trust people to expect him to follow rules and protocol. Not that Oliver was over and above rules, he just didn't find this one to his liking. Women deserved to be respected and treated well regardless of their status. Noble or not, Oliver believes that they deserved to be kiss in the back of their hands.

“I’ve been playing it safe and howled with the pack, Sir!”

She had been playing it safe indeed. At least, she didn't tell him it was none of his business. Oliver chuckled at the thought. Somehow, he was preparing himself for the worse of her reactions towards him now that she realized clearly who he was. No, not as the Duke of Richmond, but as her assailant or something like that. "I couldn't help but agree with you there," he echoed her sentiments towards the school's self-made chocolate. Then, he boldly decided to make the most out of her kindness and seemingly civil reaction to him. "Very well then, I would be most honored to drink the famous RAA hot chocolate with you." Yes, she didn't not exactly offer that he drink it with her, but Oliver just made it so. For selfish reasons, he admitted. And he even made sure a few of the students heard him so Yassia couldn't just as easily decline. He turned to look at his two bodyguards who had considerably stepped back to give him space. Two large and hulking bodyguards who would make formidable opponents on the court when they play later. He just won their wager when Yassia practically shoved RAA's hot chocolate down his throat. Figuratively speaking, of course. Not that he minded. He actually preferred hot chocolate over tea.

"I'll follow your lead," he told Yassia and made room for the students to pile on ahead. Yes, it was clearly a dilatory tactic on his part as Oliver was keen on spending as much time as he possibly could with Yassia. He had never expected to see her again after the accident. To have her here now, Oliver was going to exploit it for whatever it's worth. Her uncle can wait. He had been constantly communicating with him through emails anyway. "I hope you didn't go through all the trouble of letting the children prepare a dance or a song for me today," he teased, his hand resting on the small of her back as they walked in after the students. He would appreciate a presentation, of course, but then having been there himself once before, he hoped the school had chosen students who actually enjoyed doing it as well. Oliver knew he had to stop comparing his own experiences as a student to what was going on now, but he couldn't help it. He hadn't exactly come to visit like this since he had graduated years ago. Had he known that Yassia would be here, he should have probably come to visit sooner, maybe even oversee the construction of the gym himself. Of course, he was determined to make amends for what he had done to her. "I remember losing a wager once when I was a student. I was forced to join the a play for a visiting foreign dignitary. It was the worst torture possible." He didn't know why he was telling her these story. They just suddenly came pouring out, like a part of him wanted to share himself to her. " Have you experienced something like that?"

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Once again Yassia took a deep breath as the black limousine car – a jaguar by what it looked – came to a stop in front of the waiting assembled crowd. Now they only could wait for the Duke to step out, before any move could be made. Alright, calm down, Yass, you got this… she thought and tried to convince herself firmly. This was just another class in hotel management school, right? They had had such tests in the finals, welcoming an important guest to their hotel and treating him just like he best should be treated. She had always excelled at these kinds of tests, so why should she be nervous now? It was just one more of them, the location not being a hotel, let alone her own, but she WAS welcoming an important guest. That she might know the person was of no consequence to her now, it should not at least. The only thing she needed to remember was staying professional, yet friendly. Professional, yet friendly. She could do that, right?

Then the door of the car opened and the young Duke of Richmond stepped out, guarded against the cold with a long, black coat and gloves, and guared against possibly assaults with two shadows immediately at his side. Bodyguards… Yassia was not so sure what to make of that. She herself had had bodyguards over a few years, but she had always hated the fact. Rather than safe, she had felt trapped between two guys as big as tree trunks. But maybe he needed them?
Next to Yassia, a little girl of thirteen years had given a short gasp at the sight of the guest, and now she lightly tugged at Yassia’s sleeve, whispering: “He is quite remarkably handsome, don’t you agree, Miss Dyfrène?” Biting back a chuckle, Yassia impulsively put an arm around the girl’s shoulder and hugged her close for a second. How sweet was the innocent adoration of children! And Annabelle Morton just had a heart of gold hidden under the shell of a naïve and slightly spoilt millionaire’s daughter. She often missed her mother and have become one of those younger girls seeking comfort with Yassia, and she gladly gave it to them.

“I do agree indeed, Annie!” she said earnestly, not wanting to give the girl the impression her words were not taken at face value. And then, of course little Annie was right. Remarkably handsome… there was probably no better way to put it. The dark coat gave the young man’s golden locks a slightly darker and more sombre tinge, so that he now rather looked like a fallen angel rather than Gabriel incarnate. But then Yassia had lived too long in the world of glamour to not suspect that this was a desired and well-known effect the duke might even capitalize on. It was said after all he had quite a way with women…
Focus! She chided herself angrily, you’re not being very professional right now!
Before any awkward silence or hole in the protocol could occur, Yassia stepped forward and inclined her head. “Welcome to the Royal Alexandra and Albert School, Your Grace”, she said warmly. “Or shall I say, welcome back? My uncle, the rector, will be with you shortly, meanwhile he asked me to greet you in his name and once again thank you for the generous donation you made to this school, which will be surely enjoyed for years to come.”

Quickly, Yassia scanned the requirements of protocol in her mind, deciding on what next to point out. “There will be refreshments waiting in the refectory, if you wish, tea and hot chocolate, whatever pleases you.” Risking a a glance back at some of the grinning faces in the crowd, Yassia added, dropping her voice. “Between us, there is a wager held by the majority of the school’s populace, you would not decline a taste of RAA’s traditional selfmade Yule Chocolate, but then, like I said, it is your choice entirely.”
Only then, when her piece was said, the professional mood Yassia had automatically switched on wavered a little, and she found herself faced with her initial problem. Judging from just his looks, it could be him, oh well could it be him! But she would need to hear his voice to be sure… and maybe also catch a closer look at his eyes.


***

And then she stepped forward and addressed him. Like fire from a warm and cozy fireplace, the duke allowed her soft voice to welcome him to his old alma mater. Trying not to get too distracted by her disarming smile, he tried hard to pay attention to what she was saying, although really, he was simply enjoying the dainty way with which her lips moved and he wondered what it would be like to kiss them...as he did that first time they had met. Of course, she was mostly unconscious by then, no thanks to his rather reckless driving. He made a quick mental note to speak to her about it if the time permits.

"...tea and chocolate, whatever pleases you."

He was jolted from his trance when she mentioned refreshments. He had not expected her to offer so soon. And then she spoke of a wager and the school's famous traditional selfmade Yule Chocolate. How could he resist? No hot chocolate in the world could measure up to its delectable richness and warmth.

"It's good to be back," he enthused. He was tempted to address her by her name. Yassia Dyfrène. Yes, he remembered her name. But then, he was afraid to preempt anything now. He didn't know exactly how she felt about him getting her into an accident and then abandoning her in the hospital. As much as he wanted to stay and make sure she was alright, his duties as duke had kept him away. He had his friends make sure she was well taken cared of, however. "As for the donation, I am only giving back what my beloved school had given me in the first place."

Unable to stop himself, he boldly reached a hand out to take her hand in his and brought it to his lips. When he looked up, he gave her a small smile before leaning closer and dropping his own voice as well. "Which side did you bet on?" The wager was not a surprising news actually. Where did Oliver learn the habit of wagers after all if not at RAA? They'd bet on anything from horse racing to World Cup games to who gets the most detention. And the stakes were not exactly low. They were not usually money either. Most of them were favors, some still effective after they left school, like stocks to their family's company or free weekend stays at a world-class hotel overseas. Oliver was rather interested to know which side Yassia put her money on, or if she even put anything at all.

Then he gestured towards the school entrance. "My apologies if I sound rather rude and impatient, but I think we should not subject everybody to any more of this nasty December weather, don't you think?" he said with a smile. He remembered quite well what it was like meeting dignitaries when he was still a student at the Royal Alexandra and Albert School. Some had come to visit at a time just like today. He hated it. He'd rather be warm and cozy inside with some tea or hot chocolate. Oliver wouldn't want the same fate for these students whether they are truly happy to see him or not.

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To be honest, Yassia knew it was not the worst life she was leading now. It could have come a lot worse for her than helping out in her uncle’s business. Running a boarding school was not the same as running a hotel, but over the last few months, the task had grown on her, and also the students had. There were 150 students here, all of them boarding and staying here throughout the year, apart from the few holidays of course, and boys and girls alike. Those were the some of the highest up in England’s society, sons and daughters of millionaires and the occasional member of nobility – or even royalty. Which brought her back to a minor problem that had been haunting her for weeks now. Ever since she had heard from her uncle that the school was preparing for the visit of one of its ‘sons’, none other than the Duke of Richmond, she had been feeling like in a bad joke. That was just her luck, right? He came to celebrate the opening of his generous donation, a hall that would be an ordinary gym in summer, but could be transformed into an ice rink as soon as the temperature outside was cold enough to justify a not too great amount of energy used to temperating the hall. It was close to the Christmas holidays and since the weather was promising for such an affair, the ice rink would be inaugurated by the students and everyone of the staff who wanted. The whole school was abuzz with excitement, and even though Yassia felt more anxious herself, she couldn’t keep from smiling when she saw the gleaming faces of the students, practically bouncing in anticipation, dropping by to talk to her.

Momentarily, Yassia even fervently wished for someone to come and keep her thoughts from wandering into one particular direction: The reason why she had mixed feelings about the young Duke’s imminent arrival. Normally, it should have been nothing to her, just another celebrity’s face that may bring cameras and attention with him, from which she, if possible, had to hide and keep her head low. But maybe, just maybe there was something more to this. Yassia still couldn’t quite shake off the inkling that the same man who would arrive here with his entourage at any moment, could be the same person that had run her over with his car, brought her to hospital and then disappeared. She could not be sure, as all she remembered of that incident was a short flicker of a handsome face framed by golden locks before she passed out, and then, several times, a voice. A few weeks before, she had seen a slightly tell-taling bulletin in one of those tabloid shows on TV, and for a moment she had been struck with the though of her savior being that very same young man… but then, it could not be possible, right? It would explain his sudden disappearance, since they had shown the Duke on a journey to the continent where he should have done some beneficial sponsor work, but had rather been spotted in nightclubs and in company of skimpily cladded girls. Which was why Yassia wasn’t be sure if she even WANTED him to be that very same man. Oh well… until she heard his voice and saw his face other than on a blurred picture, she could not be sure anyway.

Then suddenly she was pulled from her thoughts by a buzz of excitement that seemed to just turn louder and louder, and when Yassia stood up and looked out of the window overlooking the courtyard, the large double-winged gate and a bit of the sloped street beyond, she saw the royal entourage sneaking its way towards the Boarding School. They were here already!
In the same minute, she heard a low growl, followed by a curse from the adjoining room, where her uncle’s office was located. “Damn, I’m not ready yet!! I can’t seem to find my tie! And where are my black shoes?!” Yassia suppressed a smile at her grumpy and, as usual, disorganized uncle, and called back: “Shall I help you search?”

”NO!” came the immediate, sharp answer. “Someone needs to greet our high guest! And I better have it be you than this fool Bricks! Go, hurry!”

Yassia was about to protest, but then there wasn’t any objective reason that was any good why she shouldn’t go down and greet the Duke in her uncle’s name. Normally, that would have been the task of Timothy Bricker, deputy rector of the school, but while he could deal well with students, he was an absolute nightmare for social happenings such as this. It had brought him the nickname ‘Bricks’, not just by the students but seemingly by everyone, because he dropped so many.

Biting back an exasperate sigh, Yassia hurried down the several flight of stairs into the courtyard, making her way to the front of the row of students, just in time for the first car of the entourage to pull through the gate. Hiding her trembling hands behind her back, Yassia took a deep, calming breath. She had dealt with high society before, all her life to be precise, she could do this! And maybe she was wrong. She would most likely be wrong; it would not be him!

***

"We have arrived, Your Grace."

Oliver, Duke of Richmond, looked up from the Game of Thrones ebook he was reading on his iPad when his assistant called his attention. He leaned closer to the window of the Jaguar XJ ride he was on, and smiled as he saw the all too familiar facade of his beloved alma mater. So many childhood and teenage memories had been created here, and it was one of the many places that the young duke hold dear to his heart. Hence, of course, his generous donation to the school this time. While he had offered money every now and then for the school, Oliver wanted a more lasting legacy. No, not one that would have his name written all over it. (He had vehemently disagreed to have his name inscribed anywhere near the new gymnasium). Oliver just wanted to give something back to the school and the educators who have molded him and have made his younger years spent at school totally memorable. The old gymnasium had seen its share of wear and tear throughout the years. He had spent most of his teenage years playing basketball with his pals there, and Oliver thought it would be a fitting gesture to give it a complete facelift--no, an extreme makeover so to speak.

And now, it was all ready to be inaugurated and opened to the students. Believe it or not, Oliver was probably just as excited as those lot peeking out of their school windows and gathering in the courtyard to try out the new place. Maybe in fact even more. He had only seen the plans of the gymnasium. He wanted to see it all for himself now. Maybe shoot some balls with the younger kids. And perhaps skate for a few rounds later in the skating rink. He had specifically made sure that nothing but top of the line, world class equipment would be bought for the gymnasium.

"Sire, remember, you have two hours here for a quick speech and a brief tour before we move on to your next--"

"Yes, Bauer, I heard it all the first time. I'm not a kid anymore you know," he said handing his iPad to his assistant and putting his gloves on just as his ride stopped.

"Sometimes you still are, you know," his assistant mumbled teasingly.

"I heard that," Oliver remarked with a playful smirk. Bauer was really more like an older brother to him that their relationship was more light and brotherly than anything. He had been taking care of Oliver since he was young boy, and Oliver had declined all other offers for a younger assistant. Well, he did have another one. Technically, he was more like his assistant's assistant.

"I got this, Ben," he told his driver as Bauer only shook his head with a smile. Oliver opened the door himself and stepped out of the car. The young duke was not really the type who wanted to be waited upon or the sort. He'd rather do things on his own if he could. His assistants, servants and bodyguards already have enough on their plate as it is. He pulled the black coat he was wearing tighter as a strong gust of wind howled by, and two of his bodyguards immediately flanked his sides as they made his way, head bowed, towards the group of students crowded around the courtyard. "Tea or chocolate?" he remarked randomly, which didn't surprise his guards at all.

"We reckon they'd offer you tea, Your Grace," one of them replied. The other nodded.

"I say hot chocolate. One day off for each of you, if you win. Otherwise, you play basketball with me later," Oliver countered with a playful smirk.

"You have a wager, sire." As it turns out, it wasn't exactly a random comment as it was a game that he and his bodyguards usually play before entering an event or something similar.

Oliver then scanned the crowd to look for the school rector or maybe even the deputy rector waiting for him, but none of them were there. A worried frown appeared on his face, hoping none of them were down with sickness with the weather being nasty and all these past few days. He noticed not one of them to be familiar...and then his eyes fell upon a young lady standing with the students, and he felt something instantly click inside his head. He remembered exactly who she was. Who could forget that beautiful face? He wondered if she remembered him at all though, the state she was in the last time they had met. Instantly, Oliver felt elated at the sight of her that it didn't even occur to him to wonder why she was in his old alma mater. It didn't matter.

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Aquila couldn’t remember if anyone ever made her feel so… grown up, so worthy of his time and effort like Seneca did just now. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing herself through his eyes. She wasn’t a girl anymore, but not yet a fully grown woman, she was in that incredible delicate state of in-between, and right now, in this moment, she wanted to milk it to the last drop. To be seen as an adult without yet having to face the responsibilities that came with it. Wasn’t it wonderful?! Whoever said that being a child was horrible clearly had it wrong – you just needed someone to see that inner age of you, that value only so little people could fathom. And she was now one of them, it gave Aquila a weird sense of… power, yes you could almost call it power. Youth was power, and she intended to wield it. She would be ever indebted to Seneca for having shown her this, she knew that. Of course she would not exploit this power for bad things, even if it might be quite tempting in the beginning, she would only use it for this night, or a few night to follow… so she could have the time of her life and experience the bliss of being young.

“You think so?” she asked, giving her voice a little coquettish tint. What was wrong with a little flattery after all… tonight, nothing counted as it usually would. She would just ride the tidal wave of the moment and see where it brought her. She didn’t know where it came from, but she trusted Seneca. It was hard to trust anyone in the Capitol, she knew that, but her father had approved of him being her chaperone for tonight… and if father approved, there could be nothing bad hidden behind it, right? “Who knew men could be so easily blinded.”
And then he posed it… a question she would have never expected from him in a lifetime. do you want me in your grasp…? Aquila couldn’t help but blush at the sheer thought of him having even suggested such a thing, even though he might have meant it perfectly innocent. Then again, he was Head Gamemaker, probably everything in his whole life would be an exciting game to him, and not so very innocent. So why didn’t that make her back away? Aquila didn’t know why she didn’t care, and she was in no mood to start an in depth analysis on her motivation now. This was her night to shine, she would no ‘if’s or ‘but’s destroy that now.
“Well… who wouldn’t”, she replied, smiling. “You’re certainly quite the catch… and a challenge, cause no one ever managed it before… ensnaring you, grasping you. They say you’re elusive like the air itself.”

Whether or not he truly meant these things, they were surely a pleasure to hear. She’d like that,… the idea of him showing her a way, taking her under his wings so to say… so that the eagle would learn to soar. He was really all kinds of sweet to offer this to her, it was definitely something Aquila would be looking forward to. And to think of what her friends would say! Aquila surely had been rising in graces! “I’d gladly take adviced from you there, Seneca.” Hopefully he would stay true to his word, but something told her he would. Taking another glass of sparkling wine, mixed with some sweet, red liquid that made it all the more delicious, she raised it in a mocking toast. “Alright…then let this game begin, I should say!”

Giving another of her chiming laughs, Aquila shook her head at his feign hurt about not being the one her friends bet on. Should she tell him? No… it was better sometimes to keep a few secrets to yourself, and decide when or if at all to reveal them. That was what made you master of the game and not a pawn in it: knowledge… and knowing how to best use it. Because her friends DID put a wager on Seneca, they had bet on him leaving her alone after a few politely exchanged words. She, in all honesty, had believed that too, but now look where they were! He had asked her out again! Oh, she would be so excited to tell them… or she would not. No, she decided, she would not. This would be her very own secret, until the journalists showed it to them!
“I guess he was the easier bet”, she only said and then fell silent as her heart was pounding in her chest, more apprehensive to meet Caesar Flickerman now that she had been meeting Seneca. The entertainer was deep in concersation, but some sixth sense must have told him someone was approaching, as he suddenly turned, greeting them with his too-bright-for-comfort smile. “Ah! Seneca, what a pleasure!” he enthused, opening his arms as if he was about to hug Seneca. “And who might be this charming young lady at your side?”

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Was she really having that much of an effect on him, or was Seneca just indulging her? If she really was that good in her little flirting game, then Aquila really could not believe her immense luck. It probably took a great deal more to really ensnare Seneca Crane, but maybe her innocence had proven to be a bonus in her task? He surely had not expected her to be so… forthcoming in a way, and maybe that had caught him a little off guard? In all honesty, Aquila was surprised herself. Who knew that it would be so easy to say the right thing and trigger the right reactions. Was that really all there was to the flirting game? And what should she best answer now?
Clucking her tongue, she shook her head so her hair moved along with it. “Now you said it… be careful, Seneca, what you wish for. I could have only played the innocent to lure you into a trap and then”, she snapped her finger, “like that, I’ll have you forever in my grasp!” But really, it was all nothing but fun and games. What would she do with a Seneca Crane at her command? She’d mess up that opportunity as she just had no cunning mind and no idea how anyone would exploit that. Sure, she’d practically get everything she wanted, but hands down, her father was already pretty good on that department and she sometimes had to rein HIM in – though she most of the time didn’t. You only lived once, right?

Shaking her head, Aquila gave Seneca a sweet smile. “I’ll surely try to stay untainted for as long as I am able to. I want to live on the sunside of life, not in the shadows, gossiping and plotting.”
He said he could live with her being a complicated soul, but a part of Aquila wondered, if that was only lip service. But then, she found herself slowly not caring anymore. Whether it was the sparkling wine or just her overall excitement, Aquila was beginning to feel almost drugged with the rich sensations she was assaulted with. Now it wasn’t only the glamour of the masquerade, it was also Seneca’s presence, the things he said and the things she only thought to read in his eyes that made her head whirl and her conscience light like a feather. It surely felt like she could do nothing wrong tonight and that nothing would end her with any long lasting consequences. It was probably the most fatal trap a girl could walk into, and she was doing so with eyes wide open, too naïve and too trustful.

Had her breath caught in her throat earlier, when he had suggested a second meeting, there was no comparing to what Aquila felt like when he so casually mentioned he wanted to gamble about a third meeting. For a moment the ground seemed to waver beneath her feet, and she tried to reach for the edge of the table to steady herself as inconspiciously as possible. What was happening here?! Was she really about to become the luckiest girl in all of Panem? Or had he said such things to all of his dates, just never went through with it? Maybe she shouldn’t hang her hopes too high with this, maybe she shouldn’t get too excited? In the end, she decided to just retort with another joke. “Then start saving up, Seneca, because I am known to be very good with riddles.” Then again, it was his friend who was the artist… so Seneca would probably know his style.
His question brought her back into reality somewhat. Of course, this evening was not only for them alone, even though it had seemed so in the last half an hour. There were other important people attending this masquerade.
”Well…” she started and suddenly felt a little stupid. What she would say now sounded a little childish and she tried so hard to appear grown up until now. “The man I want to meet is Cesar Flickerman. It is some kind of… infantile wager between my friends and me. They dared me I wouldn’t ask him one certain question and I said I would.”


***


Seneca resisted laughing at her pretty little spiel. Aquila was quite confident at playing the confident one. How brave of her to tell him that he should watch himself or else he might fall into her trap. Hadn't Seneca made it his life's vocation and profession to create traps? Hadn't he been making traps for the tributes for most of his life? It was Aquila who should better watch herself, truth be told. But then again, who was Seneca to prevent that from happening. Aquila was exactly where Seneca wanted her to be. "I may have to watch myself then," he replied and made a show of trying to look hesitant and cautious. "But who can blame a man for falling into your trap really? If he doesn't know any better, he would gladly walk into it without much prodding." Now, Seneca couldn't help wonder what she would do with him if indeed he would fall for her trap, so to speak. He could only imagine all the delightful and wonderful things to do with the beautiful Aquila. Oh, the things he can do to her. All that innocence, while very much refreshing, was always going to be quite a challenge breaking in. Seneca suddenly wanted to be the one to take that away and show her the wonders of the world that are shrouded by that innocence. "Tell me, my dear, do you want me in your grasp?" he had to ask, unable to prevent his curiosity from getting the best of him.

"I have only seen so much of the shadows to tell it's not the place for a lovely and dainty flower like you," he said as his eyes focused on hers. "Perhaps you can say I've been in and out, and I can gladly help you steer clear of that path, if you'd let me." Yes, make her trust him, make her think that he was indeed trying to help her. In all honesty, Seneca really didn't want her to be sucked into that particular game of the society. He didn't want her to be like everybody else. He wanted her different. He wanted her to be as unique as she was now. He wanted her to stay away from them, and stay with him instead. Only him.

“Then start saving up, Seneca, because I am known to be very good with riddles.” Another hearty laugh issued from the master gamemaker. Isn't Aquila a feisty and fiery one? He asked himself, totally enjoying each and every exchange they were having. "And I will give you the game of your life," he challenged back, just to give her a feel that she was indeed going to work hard to earn her prize. Aquila was only taking Seneca back into his element, games. There was nothing Seneca enjoyed more than a healthy amount of play and prizes. And he would indeed give Aquila a game that could even rival the Quarter Quells if she so asks for it.

When she told him he wanted to meet Caesar Flickerman, Seneca smiled. The man was perhaps only a notch lower than Seneca in terms of popularity, not just in the Capitol but all over Panem, being a very prolific media personality. It was no surprise that Aquila would want to meet the man in the flesh. Still, he couldn't help but tease her when she told him about the dare she had with her friends. "You and your friends wagered on Caesar Flickerman and not me? That hurts," he said feigning a look of pain on his face. But then Seneca couldn't hold it for long. He was grinning before Aquila could even speak. "I'm kidding. Come, let's win you that wager," he told her as he steered her through the crowd towards where Seneca had last seen Caesar talking to some ladies with bright-colored feathers sticking out of their heads.

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Now he was talking about her making him suffer, but Aquila only answered that with a chiming laugh. He couldn't very well be serious! As if it was anything to him whether she found him worth a few days of being subject to badmouthing or not. He probably guessed the answer anyway, and just wanted her to spell it out to he could feel all the more flattered. Should she give him that satisfaction? For a moment, Aquila seriously pondered about it, then she filed the question away as 'unanswerable' with an inward shrug. In the end, it probably wouldn't matter either way. This was all just banter, right, no real feelings would be hurt no matter what she said. Suddenly feeling bold and willing to try out a few more things on him, to see if they would work to her advantage or not, she flashed him a quick smile and whispered: „Now now, don't give me so much power over you, Seneca, showing me exactly where your weak spots are. I could be tempted to use that to my advantage once I am older and more corrupted by the world that is the Capitol society.“
Little did she know that it was in fact HER being played, and played good! For all her bold words and teasing tryouts, Aquila was still little more than a girl.

She also didn’t quite know what to make of him claiming to be an open book. Was he really? Could you come so far like he had and still be an open book? Or was that another one of his fashionable sayings, and she shouldn’t take it at face value? On the other hand: Could she really dare to accuse him of possible falsehood so easily? Hadn’t she become too wary already of the people she grew up with? Aquila gave an uneasy smile, but then took a deep breath and decided to be honest. He had asked for nothing else after all, and who was she to deny it!
”I would be really glad, if that is true. I try to be the same, in all honesty. I don’t want to lead people on, it’s shameful in my eyes. So when I tell you something, I mean it. When I don’t tell you something…” she trailed off and allowed herself a mischievous grin, “then I have my reasons as well. Can you live with that? I’m not trying to come across world-wise or secretive, as I am neither. I’m just a complicated sould I guess.”


Aquila still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, but slowly the full impact of it all sunk in.She really must have done something right tonight, if Seneca Crane broke with his known routine and asked her out for a second date. This time it WOULD be a date, not doing her a favor of accompanying her to a masquerade she otherwise wouldn’t have been able to attend. It almost sounded like she was doing HIM a favor with it, but Aquila had no idea what exactly she had done to deserve such a price. In any way, she couldn’t WAIT to tell someone who would appreciate it! What would her friends think?? Or should she keep it a secret from everyone to maximize the impact? That sounded appealing as well!
”I’d call it … hard on the imagination I guess”, she quipped, truly finding it sometimes funny how artists called their pictures for example ‘the red bird’ – when there was nothing near a red bird shown on it. But then… let people have their odd hobbies, the main thing on this day would not be the paintings after all, it was being seen with Seneca. Again she couldn’t help the slight coloring of her cheeks when he put her hand so galantly to his lips. Maybe that was something you got used to over time, but right now Aquila was still too inexperienced to just brush such a gesture off. “Rival tonight?” she heard herself repeat, “in all honesty, I don’t even know, if that will be possible.” It was true, was it not? This night was… simply unsurpassable.


***


Her laugh was like the soft but enchanting tinkling of chimes lovingly caressed by the gentle breeze. Seneca wanted more, or specifically, he wanted more of Aquila's laughter to make his day even more perfect than it already is. And he wanted it everyday. Still, he couldn't help repay her with a laugh of his own when she quite so expertly parried his playful little plea. "Exploit me all you want, my dear. A man can only count himself lucky to even be bestowed a smile from you," he replied, flattering her as much as he could. That was the play, wasn't it? Let her think she was in control, that she was the powerful one, while he was the victim, the poor admirer who was starving for her affections, and would do anything to be given it. She would take the bait, being none the wiser, and Seneca would only be too glad to have her eating at the palm of his hands soon. "And I don't think a bright and lovely flower like you would want to be so easily corrupted. Am I wrong in thinking that?" While Seneca wished she would rise above all the other petty women of the Capitol and make a name for herself, seeing as she is indeed quite an intelligent girl, he really had no control over her future. He just wished she knew better than to be so easily sucked into the shallow glitz of the social circles and nothing more.

"I think I can live with that," Seneca replied with a smile. A complicated soul. Quite admirable coming from a girl. In his world as Gamemaker where cunning and deviousness play a major part, Seneca had grown to appreciate women who can offer him more than a night's worth of enjoyment. Sure, he can always live with one-night stands, but he had to admit he is always craving for that one woman who could simulate his mind and make him even more sharp and shrewd than he already was. Such 'creatures' were rare around the Capitol. And Aquila, she was a quite a find. He had asked her father to take her to this masquerade ball for a lovely arm candy, to dance with, to show off to everybody. He had not expected to have quite an interesting conversation with her for almost half an hour now, just him and her. Oh, Seneca wanted Aquila every minute that he was spending with her. There was no way he was going to let her go that easily.

Seneca couldn't help the hearty laugh her comment had elicited from him on his friend's abstract paintings. "We should make a game out of it next week. See who gets to guess the name of the painting simply by looking at it." Of course, he would indulge her. "If I win, I will take you out to dinner. If you win, you can take me out wherever you want and I will pay for it." Either way, he was going to spend time with her. It was a win-win situation for him. And of course, for her as well. To be seen three times with Seneca Crane would be a rare distinction Aquila would hold over all the other women he had dated. In no time, she would rise to the top of the social ladder without even as much as an effort. She only need to look good for him. "Let's take it one night at a time then," he replied with a smile as he placed his goblet of wine back on the table, and offered his arm out to Aquila. "You mentioned wanting to talk to a certain someone...?" Seneca asked. The sooner they get all the party pleasantries done with, the sooner he can have her all to himself.

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Oh yes, Aquila might be playing with fire now, she realized that very well. She was pushing towards an invisible line she had never even toed before, and that with half of Panem watching. Being seen with Seneca Crane in such a manner could make you the talk of the Capitol and as such enhance your fame, but it could as easily bring her down. There was a limit to everything after all, and Aquila knew very well how young she was. Too young, many would say, and in the end, it might fall back on her father. But then again, it also might not, and who was she to spoil herself the fun? It was all in good fun still, as Seneca was far too much of a gentleman to exploit this situation in any way, this was Aquila’s firm belief. He hadn’t shown himself to be anything but galant and friendly towards her, so why should she even think of him having any ill intentions? The papers of course made everything sound more scandalous and juicy, but that was their job after all: keeping the Capitol people entertained.
”I said what I said!” she teased him back, giving a mischievous wink. “What you make of it, is entirely your concern, my dear Seneca.”

And yet, the way he said ‘my pretty one’ sent a delicate shower down the girl’s spine. He was definitely using the right language now, but it made her more… no, excited was the wrong word, but it definitely didn’t make her that much uncomfortable. What girl doesn’t want to be called pretty after all? And by such a handsome man as him? It was practically every girl’s dream come true, and she was living this dream tonight. Aquila herself was quite enjoying the slightly coy and mysterious note she was giving herself, even though she did not know how well she was actually able to play this card. She had seen other women do it countless times, playing hard to get so to say, to keep the men at their heels. She had no desire for that of course, but like she had stated before, Seneca Crane could be called her guinea pig tonight.
”Oh, who knows what is true and what is a lie”, she mused thoughtfully, but with a challenging twinkling in her eyes. “After all… this is the Capitol. We don’t wear our masks only for the masquerades.” That was nothing if not true, but maybe nothing she should have said now. Sometimes Aquila just pondered about these things, when she felt bored. Her friends often laughed at her because of it, and called it Aquila’s Philosophic Moment, short APM. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought that side up with Seneca, it surely wasn’t very… attractive.

Aquila couldn’t quite believe her ears, as she was taking a sip of her sparkling wine, and it was all she could do to not choke on it in surprise. Had Seneca really… yes indeed he had! There was no helping the blush that rose in her cheeks and her heart beating in a frenzy almost caused her to hyperventilate. As far as she knew, this had NEVER happened before! She was on to the next round, so to speak. Seneca wanted her for a second social event, and there was no denying that this would be different than attending a ball together. It was… a higher level for certain. Calm down… she chided herself, fighting for composure. Don’t let it show how excited you are! This is a beginner’s mistake! But she couldn’t quite keep the elation out of her voice, as she replied:
”Oh?! What kind of style does he paint in? I surely love art, and…” she gave a slightly giddy chuckle, taking another sip. “Off the top of my head, I think I could move one or two dates to make room for you. Nah, kidding! This will be the spotlight of an otherwise dull week, I’d be delighted!”


***


"Are you going to make a poor man suffer now? Torture me all night wondering if what you were saying is really true or not?" Seneca played back, sending a little impish smile her way. Such a clever girl, he told himself. Just the right about of beguiling to rein a man in. Seneca had to admit he was completely enamored now. How dead wrong he was to think she didn't know how to play the game. Clueless even to the point of naivete, but he was giving her credit now. Never underestimate a lady simply because of her age. Armed with such wit and charm, not to mention beauty, Aquila could just as easily find her place in the society circles soon. And Seneca was only too happy to have led her into the door himself. Yes, this was what he wanted in the first place. To be seen with him was already a start for Aquila. Once she is fully accepted into the so-called fold of high society, she will thank him for it, and she will forever be indebted. Seneca liked calling on debts, money or not. People would do anything to please you knowing they owe you. It makes him even more powerful than he already was.

And here she comes again showing him more than he expected her to know, for a woman her age. Her parents raised her well, or she had educated herself well enough on the norms and goings-on around the Capitol. He was impressed. Usually teenagers don't care much for the politics behind everything. They only care for their own enjoyment. Not Aquila. She was quite observant. "True, but I do try to be an open book myself. What you see is what you get. Now tell me, Aquila, is the same true with you?" he replied, wanting her to know that despite the 'masks,' she can trust Seneca to be truthful to her...most of the times. Whether she knew it or not, she seemed to be already dodging, quite expertly, his subtle advances towards her. Dilly-dallying in her answers. Or maybe she was just being coy...or cute. Seneca told himself he shouldn't really read too much into her words. She was just a kid trying to play the game with what little tools she had, after all.

It was indeed a good move to ask her out again. He watched with disguised satisfaction the color that rose up her cheeks at the invitation to go out with him again. If their appearance together tonight would be considered the usual fare, then to be seen again together in a few days would surely fuel talk and speculation unprecedented in Seneca's history. Aquila should count herself lucky to be that girl to make him change his routine. Not a lot of women can do that. Despite the blush, Aquila still managed to maintain her composure. Though the excitement in her voice betrayed her a bit, Seneca was only too glad to be shown a sign that she wanted this, too. Who wouldn't really? "What do you call random scribbles and splashes of paint that we call art? Abstract?" Seneca replied with a chuckle. He laughed at her playful yet affirmative answer, and then boldly took her hand in his, and brought it to his lips. "Either way, I am honored then to be chosen over and above these other dates. I will do my best to give you a wonderful time that will rival tonight."

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Now they really seemed to have started a war of boosting each other’s self-esteem and Aquila for her part already felt like she would burst, if she was praised any more. Her father had always taught her to be modest about her achievements if she could help it, and not so much as a tool to gain even more admirers. She didn’t know any of it, but this had been a dying wish of her mother, as she was passing away only a week after Aquila’s birth. ‘Don’t bring her up to be one of those brainless dolls, Aurelius’, she had said. ‘I want my daughter to know what she is worth without having to boast it. Teach her that modesty is a virtue, not a weakness.’ And Aurelius had tried to pass this legacy on to his daughte to his best abilities, without lectures, more living a quiet example and nudging her gently into the right direction. He had succeeded so far that too much praise made Aquila feel quite uncomfortable, even though she still knew that some of it was deserved.”Oh I know that many will badmouth me after tonight”, she confessed with a little grimace, but then let it be followed by a chuckle. “But know what I’m gonna tell them all?” Again she raised herself a little on her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear. “It was WORTH it!” Of course her friends would be envious as well, but Aquila knew better than to capitalize on that. This was just a snap-shot of one reality in the very meaning of the word. Tomorrow the world would be different and Aquila would no longer be of any interest. You better did not get too attached to these things, but you could milk them for all it was worth.

Aquila was glad that Seneca seemed even less concerned about how her father would take their little escapade tonight, and she was willing to trust him on that aspect. After all, it hadn’t been such a bad thing, right? Just a little effect for the crazy journalists. It didn’t mean anything… though it hadn’t felt all that bad once the shock had passed. Aquila’s knowledge and closer contact with men was far and few between, make no mistake, and as such she found it quite flattering she was getting so much attention from Seneca tonight.
Twirling gracefully under his arm, enjoying the way her long sleeves swayed while she did it, she flashed him a conspiratiorial grin. “I could put in a good word with my father, if you want. Maybe he’ll be a bit nicer to you, if I told him I didn’t mind so much?” she suggested. That was definitely flirting now, but she trusted Seneca to not read too much into it. After all, he was more her chaperone tonight than a date, being around twice her age. But she also could not deny that he was definitely making an effort for turning this night into a half-date, something definitely exciting, and Aquila knew she would be enternally grateful to him, always keeping this evening in fond memory.

Far too soon the dance was over, but Aquila didn’t complain. The night was still young, and there was just too much to do on a party such as this. And her dreams had been halfway fulfilled with this one dance already, she would think back on that for a long time to come. “A drink would sound wonderful, yes”, she agreed enthusiastically and let herself being led towards the table with sparkling wine. Aquila knew she shouldn’t drink too much of that quickly intoxicating beverage, or she might become a little too careless. Adding that to the wildness she already felt tonight, this could turn out embarrassing, if she didn’t watch herself.

Taking the glass with a blush, she raised her glass as well and returned the toast. “And I couldn’t have wished for any better company myself. May this become a night we both will think back to for quite some time!” It might be wishful thinking concerning him, but Aquila merely didn’t care. He probably gave these compliments to all those women who accompanied him, they couldn’t be special. But they didn’t have to be. Just receiving them, getting the chance to be at his side tonight was more than a girl her age normally could wish for. It was an excellent beginning to a life of fame, if she had the desire to live such a life.


***


"Did you just say I am worth it?" Seneca teasingly clarified with an impish grin on his face. His hand had involuntarily rested around her slim waist when she tiptoed closer to him and whispered her words. Somehow, Seneca wanted her to stay there, like this, very close. He actually wished she'd be all over him like most of his dates would, clinging onto his arms or holding his arms themselves. But he would give Aquila the chance. She is after all just a teenager. She probably had a lot more to learn in the flirting department, though right now, Seneca was not disappointed in her at all. He'd gladly turn the tables around and flirt with her himself. Now, did Aquila practically just tell him that she would withstand all the gossip and badmouthing that will come her way because of him? Well, while there was no surprise in that, any woman after all would want to be in her place tonight, Seneca still appreciated hearing words like this. Seneca lived on these kinds of attention.

And he thought she didn't know a trick or two about pleasing the opposite sex. Here she comes bantering quite boldly with him on the subject of his father not liking the kiss Seneca just planted on her throat. "Oh now, I don't want you to lie to your father, my pretty one. But if what you say is true, then who am I to oppose your brilliant idea." Seneca was, of course, humoring her. He'd find out soon enough if she really was enjoying the kiss as much as he did. Truth be told, Seneca already had a feeling she did, for how would she still be in his arms if she was horrified by that one harmless kiss. She could have easily walked out on him that very moment, but she didn't. Yes, she didn't mind that kiss one bit. In fact, Seneca felt like she even wanted more. Who was he to deny her that pleasure? The night was young, and they have all the time in the world tonight to do more of those little playful shenanigan if she wanted them to.

Seneca downed his drink in one swig and asked for another one. There was so much food and drinks that it would be a sacrilege not to enjoy them all. While Seneca was no fan of the "vomiting" drink, he made sure to taste and sample a little of everything every time he graces a party. That was only the most gracious way of thanking and appreciating their host for inviting them to the shindig. "You make it sound like there wouldn't be any more of this," Seneca told her as he took a sip from his new glass. "An artist friend of mine is opening his painting exhibit at the gallery next week, and he invited me to attend. I would love it if you'd indulge me with your delightful company once again. Only if you want to, of course. I wouldn't want to force myself upon your time, you probably have lots of suitors to entertain." Seneca just decided that he had no plans of making this a one-night-only thing between him and Aquila, which is actually him breaking his known practice for the first time. Seneca couldn't care less. Aquila was far too beautiful and precious a prize than all the other women he had taken out combined that she deserved one or two more opportunities to be seen with him. Add to that her youthful exuberance which actually only makes Seneca feel just as youthful. Aquila also presents quite a challenge being a little too young for him. She makes Seneca want to work hard for her affections and attention, something that he hadn't done in a while now. Yes, he loved the challenge of a new conquest, just like he loved manipulating the tributes in the games with his and his gamemakers' endless bag of tricks. He wanted to see how long he could ensnare Aquila and ensnare her good.

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Shabby old man?! Oh dear, now he was really pushing it. As if she would ever agree on a date with such a being! Aquila might be young, but she had her standards! Should anyone like that ever dare to come to her with such a request, she would nicely but decisively refuse. But then, who was really shabby in the Capitol anyway? Aquila wasn’t even living in such circles, and she was very sheltered in this way. When she went out, she always was roaming the High Society, and if there were poorer quarters in the Capitol, she never had even set one foot in it and she didn’t plan to. There were old men in her vicinity of course, but they were Gamemakers like her father, or members of President Snow’s staff. You couldn’t call them shabby in any way, and that they were aging was not their fault. Yet, there weren’t many succesful remedies developed to draw out the human aging process, even though they were working on it of course.
Seneca however, of that Aquila was sure, would always stay remarkably handsome at whatever age. It was not only his finely carved features, he also just knew how to present and groom himself; his carefully trimmed beard was only one example for that. There were jokes circling in the Capitol on how many hours it would take him every day to shave, and if he even got sleep in the night. Such jokes were only told behind your hand and with nervous giggling of course. No one knew how he would take them.
”I doubt you’d ever fall into that category, Seneca”, she teased him lightly, letting her gaze wander over his handsome face and figure. “And that’s why I couldn’t have made a better deal tonight.”

And he wasn’t just a good looking man, they had surely not exaggerated in his talent for dancing. Aquila had sometimes watched him from afar and had admired him, but this, this was something entirely different. Actually dancing with Seneca was more than she could have ever dreamed of. His moves were lissom and he seemed to be in absolute control of every muscle. The slow rhythm of the song allowed them to move very close together, and for Aquila this wasn’t such a very unpleasant feeling at all. His hand on the small of her back felt rather secure than encaging in any way, and if it was only for her, this dance could have lasted forever. Seneca also really knew how to lead, and she didn’t have to think, just give herself fully to the rhythm and his leading hands, dispatching her mind from her moving feet. The slight peaceful bubble that had formed around them however was bursting the instant there was a lightning storm of flashlights from the mass of photographers that must have flocked to the dancefloor to get their shot of the night. Part of Aquila was annoyed, but part of her was also proud that it would be HER on this shot of the night, and no mistake. And so she just smiled and nodded, wondering what would come next. Knowing Seneca Crane at all, he would have something up his sleeve.

That suspicion was confirmed the minute he advised her to hold tight and then dipped her low. Aquila’s body acted automatically, skillfully tensing every muscle so he would not have to support her like a sack of potatoes, but she was becoming something like an extension of his own body. At the lowest point, where he held her for a few seconds, she even arched her back and, feeling that he had her firmly, let go of his body, spreading her arms wide and slightly over her head, giving exactly the picture Marcus had aimed for with his costume: The Phoenix, ready to soar and rise from the ashes. She heard a few quiet ‘oooooohs’ and ‘aaaahs’ and had to smile. Yes, she thought, Seneca Crane is not the only person in the Capitol knowing how to give a good show! In Aquila’s eyes, they were quite a team, complementing each other tonight. The kiss on he throat, even more exposed now through her arched back, took her by surprise, but before she could lose her poise, Seneca had already secured her firmly in his arms again, and the moment had passed.
The lucky man of the press who had taken a picture just this second his lips had brushed her throat, would probably get a great amount of money for it. Raising her brows, Aquila whispered: “Wasn’t that a little overkill? I hope for your sake my father won’t see that picture!” But she accompanied it with a chuckle, feeling almost drugged with excitement, and not really very worried at all.


***


The look on Aquila's face when Seneca mentioned her going out with a shabby old man was priceless. Of course, everybody in the Capitol, young and old alike, have their standards when it comes to being seen in public, whether alone or with someone else. Not that there were any ragged-looking individuals in the Capitol, but Seneca wouldn't want to be caught dead swirling on the dancefloor with someone who wouldn't even take the effort in looking good. People in the Capitol are more than privileged to take advantage of that opportunity, so why not exploit it to the fullest. Feathers, silks, wigs, furs--they are all for everyone's taking here. There's so much for everyone really. Too much even. Aquila was now teasing him lightly, and Seneca would be a hypocrite not to admit that he was enjoying it very much. He enjoyed attention as the next guy, maybe even more than the next guy. And it was not hard to tell that Aquila really appreciated his dashing good looks tonight, the suggestive gazes that she was giving him. They were like firewood to his flaming self-confidence tonight. She could ogle at him all she wants. Seneca wouldn't have it any other way. "Well, the pleasure is mutual. I couldn't have gone out with a lady more stunning than you. I am the envy of every man out here tonight."

To say that Seneca was enjoying this would be an understatement. He mopped that dancefloor with Aquila like it was nobody's business. And Aquila wasn't a bad dancer herself. In fact, she was just as superb, knowing the right steps and moves at the right time. She was flexible and relaxed. She looked and felt very comfortable in his arms while they they danced to the music. Seneca have had good dancing partners, but Aquila was giving them a run for their money. For a lady so young as hers, that's quite an achievement. Add to that her own flair for the cameras as well. When Seneca dipped her low, Aquila had spread her arms out and over her head so gracefully that it elicited quite a reaction from the crowd. He couldn't wait to see the pictures, but he knew they looked marvelous together.

“Wasn’t that a little overkill? I hope for your sake my father won’t see that picture!”

Seneca was now holding her close and was moving a bit slowly and gently on the dancefloor just as the others resumed dancing as well. A small laugh escaped his lips at her words knowing she was merely teasing, and knowing full well that Aquila's father wouldn't resent him for that small kiss. He withdrew the hand from around her waist, and raised the other over their heads and guided Aquila to twirl under it. He knew he wouldn't be disappointed with the effect. Her dress had fanned out and the flaming colors only seemed to glow brighter with her every move. "If he does, I will gladly submit myself to whatever punishment your father will give me. I am guilty of enjoying it a little too much," he told her once he had her back in his arms. He'd actually do it again if given the chance. Her skin had felt so soft on his lips, and in that fleeting moment, Seneca wanted to feel more of her, to plant his lips not just on her throat but on all of her--her lips, her well-cut jawline, that irresistible crook of her neck, her prominent collarbones, and maybe even that deep valley between her luscious mounds-- The cut of her dress that clung tightly to her curves and the tempting view of her bare belly was not helping these growing desires at all. The more time Seneca was spending with Aquila, the more things they do together tonight, the more the Head Gamemaker wanted her. As their bodies touched while they danced, Seneca had to rein himself in not to get too excited at the thought of running his hands all over her body and her enjoying every bit of his touch.

"Do you fancy a drink? I could use one," Seneca said as he felt rather aroused at his thoughts running a little too wild now. Control, Seneca, he told himself. Seneca may be quite the womanizer, but he was always respectful and every bit the gentleman towards his dates. It wouldn't do well to snatch Aquila just so he could have her for himself, not when the party was only halfway through. He pulled back from their dance embrace, and hooked her arm around his as he lead her towards the refreshments table, taking a deep breath as he composed himself. He took a couple goblets of the sparkling wine and gave one to Aquila. "You are remarkable, Aquila, and I am very lucky and honored to be your date tonight. How about a toast to more wonderful nights like this?" he said raising his glass out towards Aquila for a clink.

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Seneca was really an extraordinary man. No wonder he had come that far at such a young age, comparably. It wasn’t all the right relations and names that got you to this point, you had to be the man for it, and Seneca certainly was that man. He showed a brilliant mind every year with the games, thinking up the most wicked obstacles and general settings for the tributes, and even though Aquila sometimes suspected he himself had a hand in chosing the final tribute in the end and make it impossible for others to win, she didn’t begrudge him that. That must have been a general practice even before her birth, after all, you couldn’t leave anything to chance and maybe enrage some of the sponsors who had put their money in only a second- or third-best. The Games was a grave responsibility, one Aquila wouldn’t like to have for the world, and of course as the figurehead of the whole thing, you also had to have a certain streak of scruplelessness on you. Perhaps that was what made Seneca so attractive, apart from his looks. He held the life of people in his hands, that could only add to your reputation. And Aquila couldn’t deny that it had a certain effect on her as well.
And now this man complimented her again, telling her that stylist always could only do half the work? Regarding Faustina for example, that was certainly true, but could anyone blame Aquila to be thoroughly enchanted, guileless as she still was in her sixteen years of age?

”Thank you!” she repeated, beaming this time and felt herself growing a few inches out of sheer pride and enhanced self-esteem. “But if I may be so bold, you look exceptional as well tonight!” What was probably most exceptional about Seneca was that he didn’t seem to indulge much in the fashion craze of the Capitol, apart maybe from his delicately trimmed beard, which in effect made him stick out more than he ever could have with bright colors and fashionable wigs. He had a way of dressing so shockingly ‘normal’ that it gave him an alien and honestly dangerous look sometimes. He reminded Aquila often of some deadly cat of prey, like a panther for example. Waiting hidden in a tree, invisible through his ability to merge with the surroundings, but always ready to pounce down on his unsuspecting victim. The thought made a sweet shiver run down Aquila’s spine. Of course she was never in real danger, this was all just a feeling for kicks. Seneca Crane saved his ruthless side only for the games, right? And anyway, why should SHE have something to fear from him? It was all just sweet mind games, nothing more.

She knew it had been a bold move what she had been doing, but it became even bolder by how Seneca reacted to it. He seemed very much inclined to mirror her flirting a little tonight, and while Aquila’s heart missed a beat and she felt the breath catch in her throat, she could only imagine how this all must look like for an outsider. Would she want that to be on the cover of some magazine? What would her father say? But then, he probably would not say anything, Aurelius Kerr knew how to keep his head low.He would have a serious private word with his only daughter and then forget about the incident, knowing that next time there would be a different woman on this man’s arm anyway. So, where was the harm in it all, truly?
With still pent up breath, she waited for his answer. Was it possible he could refuse? But then, of course he didn’t and Aquila felt so elated by him agreeing that it was like she was floating towards the dancefloor, hardly even feeling her hand in his. “This is wonderful, thank you so much!” she whispered, not sure how strong her voice would be, as she gently placed her left hand on his shoulder. It certainly looked like this night was rapidly becoming the best night of her life and Aquila felt slightly overwhelmed by it all, unable to say much.


***

Praises, compliments, flattery--Seneca was very much familiar and had gotten quite used to them after all these years. While there were a few detractors here and there, they were negligible compared to the well-wishes and the adulation that come his way every minute of everyday. Really, it felt like Seneca could do nothing wrong in his life. It certainly amused him to no end how people in the Capitol have come to regard him highly, second only to the President. To hear such a compliment from Aquila was not surprising, but Seneca appreciated it nevertheless. More than anything, he wanted to make a good impression on his 'date', not that that would be hard to achieve. But it does help to know that Aquila sure was pleased with him and how he looked tonight. While he wasn't exactly averse to wearing flamboyant suits or dying his jet black hair in all shades available, Seneca prefer elegant simplicity. His beard, carved and crafted with artful perfection, was his main pre-occupation. Other men can color their hair or wear bright and glaring suits all they want, but Seneca would rather keep his well-sculpted beard. It had become his trademark. No one in the Capitol, and most certainly none in all of Panem, can rock the beard like he does. "Thank you," he replied sincerely. "I wouldn't want a glorious vision such as you to appear in public with a shabby old man now, would I?"

Her enthusiasm to all of these was contagious. He knew Aquila had been to her fair share of parties, but the wonder in her eyes at stepping into the dancefloor with him made him surprisingly excited as well. Perhaps it was her youthful vigor, that unbound spirit of a teenager that made her see the world with such wide open eyes. Seneca had to admit, he hadn't felt like that for a while now that he felt irresistibly drawn to her. And having been overdosed with both the grandiose displays of extravagance in the Capitol and the heartless murders of children in the Hunger Games, Seneca had to admit that he was starting to get rather jaded and callous over things. Sure, he smiles and waves for the crowd and milks the attention and reverence for all its worth, but at the end of the day, when he's all alone in his home, Seneca couldn't help but feel a touch numb sometimes. Being with Aquila tonight somehow ignited a fire within him that had been rather doused down. At the back of his mind, he knew this. Her beauty and energy were such a balm to Seneca that he couldn't help but wanting to have more of it, more of her.

Seneca snaked his hand around her dainty waist as she settled hers over his shoulder. His lips curved into a smile as he pulled her closer to him, their bodies gently touching, as he expertly guided her into the middle of the dancefloor. His eyes locked intently into hers as he took the lead and swept the floor with her with graceful steps and well-choreographed moves that made the other dancers decide to slowly step back. Tonight, he was making Aquila the belle of the ball. And sure enough, just as the dancefloor cleared up with no one but them dancing, lights flashed one after the other and astonished whispers and exclamations filled the hall as the media finally caught wind of Seneca's new beauty for the night. "Don't mind them. Just dance, Aquila, dance with me," he whispered as he tightened his hold around the small of her back. "Hold tight," he added with a small impish grin, before gently moving to dip her low, his hand supporting her back as he lowered her. Seneca held the position until the cameras got their fix. He planted a swift but soft kiss on Aquila's throat before pulling her back up and holding her steady close to him. Seneca could already imagine how amazing Aquila will look in the papers tomorrow in her shimmering red, orange and yellow dress contrasting quite brilliantly with his own black tailored suit.

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Given, it was a compliment, and Aquila was used to being complimented by everyone who wanted to be on her good side for her father’s sake, or by her friends who were a little obliged to give compliments because they WERE your friends, but this… this was different. It was a compliment by none other than Seneca Crane, Panem’s most egligible bachelor and a demi-god by his looks himself. Furhermore, he was higher up than her father would probably ever reach or want to reach, and so he had no reason to kiss up to her father by flattering her. Did this mean he was genuine then?`But then, since when had anything ever be truly genuine in the world of the Capitol? It was something you just had to roll with and those who grew up to it simply accepted that every word spoken to you was practically an exaggeration or a lie. It was the price for being better than all other districts and the price was paid gladly by everyone.

Still, it was not only the words, also the touch he inflicted on her made Aquila’s heartbeat pick up its rate considerably. It felt good to be appreciated by a man such as him, and this time the young girl deliberately let her eyes wander to check if anyone had seen this quick exchange. She saw Faustina, a girl a little older but nowhere near as pretty and definitely looking a bit odd in her colorful themeless costume , gawk at her from where the buffet was laid out. Her glare could have turned Aquila into a pillar of salt on the spot, and the young girl knew why. Faustina had been dying to catch Seneca’s attention for ages. Well, look who was now on the losing and who was on the winning side!

For Faustina, for herself and for everyone else who might be watching, Aquila turned up the corners of her lips into the sweetest smile she could possibly manage. “Why thank you, Seneca!” she exclaimed and needn’t fake the blush that was tinting her cheeks. “Too bad it’s mostly not my work. I can only LOOK good as a result”, she joked, being quite aware of her shortcomings. “It’s my stylist Marcus that MAKES it look good.”
The touch of his hand on her elbow was still as pleasant as anything, since for Aquila it held no danger. He was just being friendly, after all, and just by being here with her he was doing her several huge favors. One: he made it possible to attend this party, being the best chaperone you could wish for, two: he was raising her reputation by being seen with him tonight, maybe even make it to the papers, which in return would also benefit her father and even her stylist Marcus, who she held in high regards. Then, finally, since she knew him to be an excellent dancer, she would benefit from that as well. Nothing in life would ever be as wonderful for Aquila than dancing. In all honesty, she had been quite surprised by his offer to her father and the readiness that her father had agreed to this arrangement, but then it wasn’t exactly a matter to complain over. Aquila knew that it wouldn’t last, since Seneca Crane was known for his female company to be ever changing, so she better milked this to the last drop.

Raising herself on her tiptoes, she lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper and said: “Well, there is one person I’d really like to exchange a few words with, but that can wait. You would really be my personal hero, if you would do me the honor of dancing with me tonight.” Was she trying her flirting skills a little on him there? Well, maybe, and where was the harm in it? She needed to learn the finesse of it eventually, and it was all in good humor and innocence, in Aquila’s eyes.


***

As humble as she was beautiful, Aquila showed her gratitude to his praise but didn't hog all the credit herself. Instead, she took extra effort in mentioning her stylist, which was quite admirable for a young lady like her. Most girls her age would probably just indulge in the limelight with no thought whatsoever of the people that worked hard to made them look good in the public eye. But not Aquila, and Seneca admired her greatly for that. Her parents raised her well indeed. What man wouldn't be drawn to a lovely lady who knew her place in society and knows exactly how to act accordingly. Aquila would be quite a prize, even for an accomplished man like Seneca himself. Of course, she was much too young for him. If anything, he was merely being her chaperone and not some romantic date of sorts. Such a pity really. But then of course, whoever said that Seneca could not enjoy the night with her. Whoever said that Seneca had to be restricted by the fact that she was at least a decade younger than him. Seneca can do what Seneca wants to do. He wasn't going to broadcast it to all of Panem, of course, Seneca knew discretion. Still, he was determined on making the most out of the night.

"I agree that Marcus has done quite a job on you, but colors and feathers can only do so much, Aquila. Your stylist's work would be for naught if you yourself don't know how to carry it with such poise," he told her. Of course, she need not humble herself too much. Seneca was keen on building up her confidence some more, which will only add to her radiance tonight. And a radiant and enthralling date was all Seneca could ever ask for. Without having to look, Seneca knew most, if not all eyes, were furtively on them. Women would surely want to know who Seneca's flavor of the night was, either to gossip or envy over. Men, of the lesser ilk, would probably do the same as well. Of course, those the likes of President Snow and the older distinguished elite would only be glad for even just a simple introduction and a few well-placed praises on his impeccable taste in women. Seneca would love nothing than to do just that. This night was a boon for both him and Aquila indeed.

When Aquila moved to whisper something to him, Seneca took the chance and leaned further in, his own lips almost brushing her soft jawline and the dainty curve of her shoulder. She smelled sweet, and Seneca inhaled them all in, shamelessly getting drunk in the wonderful scent of her perfume. She spoke of wanting to speak with a certain person, and Seneca readied himself for a name, but then her words had took on a different turn which completely surprised Seneca. He pulled back, an amused smile on his face, as he tried to see if Aquila was serious or was merely joking. Seneca was not only famed for being master gamemaker, he also has quite a reputation on the dancefloor. And there was nothing he would like more than to take Aquila dancing and show him his moves as well as to see her moves. Seeing the serious look on her face, Seneca then gave her a small bow and then held his hand out to her. "The honor is all mine, Aquila. Shall we?" he offered waiting for her to take his hand before leading her to the dancefloor. A sweet slow melody was currently playing and there were only a few couples on the floor. Seneca knew for certain that they will become the center of attention not soon enough.

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