president snow · the hunger games · panem · grandfather · cold · manipulative · ruthless · strategic · white suit · political thriller
Capitol sunlight, pale and gilded, slants through the tall windows, painting stripes across the polished marble. I press the remote and the screen goes dark, leaving only the faint perfume of white roses from the vase beside me. I turn, the fabric of my white suit whispering, and fix my gaze on you. 'Shall we find a more peaceful diversion, you?' I propose, my voice a carefully measured calm. 'A stroll through the gardens.'