SOMA STARED NUMBLY OUT THE RAINY WINDOW, fork in one hand, knife in the other. Her black shift hung around her hips in limp folds, her hair uncurled and lifeless. Coriolanus watched her warily, sipping from his cup. Across the table, Mags Flanagan was chatting softly with the chef, ordering something special she wanted them to try.

Since her father had bought their new home, Soma had become a live wire. Every dinner in the half-furnished dining hall was a minefield, prone to exploding at the slightest touch. But between arguments and fork-screeching meals, Soma was silent. Cold as a marble angel lunging above a grave. Something about that look in her eye was familiar, chillingly so.

The only one who made these dinners palatable was, to his surprise, Mags. She had not been named the Darling of the Capitol for nothing; Mags could carry lively conversation, and she had a way of smiling at people like they were the sole center of her universe. She still disliked Coriolanus, that was evident, but their mocking banter had lost its sharp edge, and turned into something softer. It made it easy to forget she was destined to die in a few weeks' time.

Coriolanus turned away from Soma, out of his reverie, and found a slab of red, jelly-looking meat on his plate. "What is this?" he said delicately.

"Eel," Mags replied, grinning at her own plate with relish. "It's delicious, and you both should try it."

Soma was cold as ice. "I've eaten snake, eel can't be so different." She put the whole thing in her mouth, eyes locked on Coriolanus like a threat. She sank her teeth in with deliberate hatred. Coriolanus forced himself to meet her gaze as levelly.

Soma swallowed, her throat constricting. She gave Mags a smile. "Delicious, darling. Go ahead, Coryo, try it."

Coriolanus felt her unspoken dare. Try it, Coryo. Suffer a little, won't you? He hesitated.

Mags beamed, oblivious to the black death Soma was seething at him. "Do try it! At least a bite. It's not for everyone, but it's something that reminds me of home."

Coriolanus sighed thinly. "I suppose, if Mags asks." Soma snarled. It was clear that he was doing it for Mags, not because she dared him. Good. He needed to shake the power she had over him.

He speared the meat, and sliced off a sliver. Stuck it between his lips. It was rubbery and raw, somewhat tasteless. His lips puckered without his willing it to.

"Coryo, you look like you've swallowed a live fish," Mags teased, stabbing her own rubbery piece of meat. She chewed blissfully. "Mm."

"Haven't I? You're telling me you eat this raw in Four?" Coriolanus wheezed, trying to find a way to discreetly wipe his tongue and get rid of the smokey, slimy sensation.

Mags grinned, swallowing with relish. "It's better raw, if you can wrap your pretty sheltered head around it. We catch them live, all swarming like boiling water in our nets, and chop their heads--"

He blanched. "I'd rather not imagine it."

Mags laughed, high and clear, tossing her red hair back. Soma, who sat to Coriolanus' left, dragged her knife across her plate with an ear-screeching pointedness. Mags coughed, catching her laugh in her throat. The gleam in her eye died down. She cleared her throat, and kept her eyes to her plate.

Pity. Mags was the only reason he had come to dinner today. The silence was grating on him, all the pointed glares and word play. Soma was relentless in her fury, and it rubbed against him everywhere he went. Marrying her, tolerating her, for years to come? The thought almost snapped him. But he had to retain control. Without Soma, the Plinth's blessing would be lost, and there was no telling how quickly the Snow name would slip back to the bottom.

Snow lands on top, he must, Coriolanus reminded himself. He had no other choice.

Soma stood abruptly. "I'm tired. Goodnight."

"Soma, it's only five--" Mags began.

"Goodnight," Soma repeated. She clipped primly away, and slammed the massive oak doors behind her. Strabo Plinth had spared no expense in designing their new home: everything was state-of-the-art, and in the highest of high fashion. They even had a cosmetics room, which Soma spent most of her time in, playing with the hair-changing, skin-altering technology. She was probably headed that way, to tinker with concoctions and robots. Though Coriolanus had never noticed her leaving with any notable changes to her appearance.

Mags and Coriolanus stared at each other.

Then Mags burst out laughing. Nothing about this was funny, but suddenly Coriolanus found his cheeks hurting with a smile. Mags had buried her face in her arms, snorting and giggling uncontrollably.

She wiped tears from her eyes. "God! Sorry, that wasn't funny at all. I'm sure her feelings are hurt now."

"She's fine," Coriolanus waved her away, unsure why he was apologizing for Soma's behaviour. "Soma gets snippy, but she doesn't hold long grudges."

Mags raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like Soma at all."

Coriolanus shrugged with one shoulder. "I guess she's changed since her time in District Four. Soma's quick to forgive. It's honestly disappointing, she can't stand in the more vicious political debates. She's too eager to please."

She made a thoughtful sound, ruffling her red curls. "I guess the Capitol does change."

Suddenly her face fell again. Coriolanus could guess what she was thinking. The Capitol would change Mags too; she would either become a slaughterer of children, a bloodthirsty beast, or dead. Change was inevitable, but for Mags, it was perverse.

He looked at her pityingly. "You can still win this," he said quietly. "You're a fighter."

She gave him a watery little smile. "That's sweet. I didn't know you could do that."

"What," he scoffed. "Offer reassurance? I do it quite often."

"But how often do you mean it?" she said, tilting her head. Mags smiled at him. "Goodnight, Coryo. I'll see you tomorrow."

She got up, following Soma's path through the massive double doors. Coriolanus braced himself for the sound of slamming, but it never came. Mags had shut the door softly, gently, as she did everything else.

Coriolanus looked at the remaining eel on his plate. Thoughtfully, he cut another slice, and put it on his tongue. Somehow, it tasted better than it had before. Sweet, underneath the smokiness, with a tangy flavor that reminded him of fiery hair.

SOMA WATCHED MAGS LEAVE. Her expression was stony, calculating.

It sharpened when she saw Coriolanus eat the rest of his eel. And darkened further when she saw that he enjoyed it, savoured it, and finished every scrap.

author's note

miss me?? thoughts on what's going on?? (don't lose faith in soma!)