Chapter Text
The Capitol sparkled in the twilight, its buildings ablaze with light as though the city itself wore jewelry. Coriolanus Snow, the newly crowned President of Panem, looked out over his domain from the upper terrace of a grand estate. Tonight, the Capitol elite had gathered to celebrate his ascension, a rare occasion where even he allowed himself to bask in adoration. Yet, in the sea of socialites vying for his attention, his focus was drawn to one figure standing at the periphery of the garden.
She wasn’t like the others.
Charlotte Von Scott.
She was dressed simply by Capitol standards—an elegant green gown that shimmered subtly when she moved, like sunlight through leaves. Her hair was swept into an understated style that framed her face, its simplicity contrasting with the flamboyant extravagance around her. She smiled demurely as she conversed with a small group, her posture graceful and unassuming.
Yet Coriolanus saw through it.
She was too poised, too perfectly balanced between modesty and allure. Her laughter, soft and melodic, landed precisely when it should, neither too soon nor too late. He’d dealt with enough Capitol players to recognize an expert performance.
Charlotte must have felt his eyes because she turned her head, catching his gaze. For a moment, her mask faltered. Or perhaps she let it slip. Her smile deepened—not a coy invitation, but a deliberate acknowledgment.
Intriguing.
Coriolanus descended the terrace steps with measured precision. The crowd parted for him instinctively, heads turning, conversations halting mid-sentence. His mere presence commanded silence.
“President Snow,” someone greeted, bowing slightly.
He offered a brief smile, more a formality than anything genuine. His steps didn’t falter until he reached her.
“Miss Von Scott,” he said smoothly.
“Mr. President,” she replied, her voice warm and even.
“President Snow,” he corrected gently.
Her lips curved. “Of course. Forgive me.”
There was no nervous flutter in her tone, no sycophantic gushing like so many others. Instead, she regarded him with steady, curious eyes, her expression betraying nothing. She neither fawned nor recoiled.
“Your family is making a remarkable comeback,” he said, testing her composure. “Your father has shown admirable resilience.”
Charlotte tilted her head slightly, acknowledging the veiled compliment. “He’s a determined man,” she replied. “We all are.”
A flicker of amusement danced across Coriolanus’ face. “Resilience runs in the family, I see. I’ve heard many speak of you. A woman of many talents, they say.”
She clasped her hands before her, the picture of modesty. “I do my best to meet expectations.”
“Do you?” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Or do you exceed them?”
Charlotte held his gaze, her smile unfaltering. “Exceeding expectations can be dangerous in the Capitol, don’t you think? It’s much safer to meet them precisely.”
His smile sharpened. “Clever.”
She inclined her head graciously. “And you, Mr.—President Snow. You must be thrilled to see your ambitions realized. Panem united under your leadership at last.”
“Thrilled?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’d say it’s more a sense of satisfaction. And responsibility.”
She nodded thoughtfully, as though weighing his words. “A heavy burden. But you bear it well.”
Their exchange had drawn the attention of nearby guests, though neither seemed to care. They stood like opposing forces—him, all icy authority; her, all warm grace.
Coriolanus studied her for a moment longer before stepping back slightly, his smile still firmly in place. “You’re an interesting woman, Miss Von Scott. I look forward to seeing what role you’ll play in this new era.”
Charlotte’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a glint in her eye—one he couldn’t quite place. “And I look forward to seeing how you shape it, President Snow.”
As Coriolanus moved on, the crowd enveloped him, but his thoughts lingered on her. Charlotte Von Scott was unlike anyone he had met in the Capitol. And in a world where every interaction was a game, she had just become his most fascinating opponent.
Charlotte watched Coriolanus Snow walk away, his silver hair catching the light, his movements calculated to exude power. The man was meticulous, she thought, and more dangerous than most of the Capitol realized. She had grown up observing men like him—her father, her brother, and countless others who wore ambition like a second skin.
But Snow was different. He wasn’t just playing the game; he was the game.
“Charming, isn’t he?” came a voice to her left.
Charlotte turned to find Octavia Crane, one of her father’s old allies, swirling a glass of champagne. Octavia’s crimson gown was as striking as her sharp features, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“If you find venom charming,” Charlotte replied softly, taking a sip of her drink.
Octavia chuckled. “Oh, my dear, venom is precisely what keeps this city alive. You’d do well to remember that.”
“I remember everything,” Charlotte said with a polite smile, the edges of her voice smooth yet unyielding.
Octavia tilted her head, studying her for a moment before raising her glass in a mock toast. “Careful, darling. You might find yourself entangled in the president’s web before you know it.”
Charlotte didn’t flinch. “Only if I allow myself to.”
As Octavia moved away, Charlotte returned her gaze to the garden, the sound of laughter and music drifting around her like perfume. She had lived her life wearing masks, but tonight, beneath the guise of sweet humility, her mind worked furiously.
Snow had tested her, and she’d held her ground. But this was only the beginning.