1. Courted

Expertly Trained. Ruthless Efficient. Merciless. Lina Bloom is the perfect assassin; her mission? Bring down The Capitol that destroyed her world. But will her love for an enemy boy cause her to fail the one mission that would mean justice for millions?

     "He...wait. HE WHAT!?," I shrieked. Clove winced as i laid the bow carefully on the table.

     Courting worked a certain way for us, differently than the Capitol. Courting works...in a much simplier way, but also much worse way.

     Only males can court females but the female has every right to turn down the person who courted her...after the Winter Solstice. That's why the Festival usually starts in September, to give couples times to see if it would work.

    It might sound confusing but it's actually very simple. If someone courted you, you would have no choice but to accept it, but when the Winter Solstice came around, you could leave them. And, if the relationship worked, you had to wait till the Spring Festival to marry the other person.

    Armon was a tall, lean, dark haired...man. I was 19 and he was 21. I had kind of expected as much when he tried his hand at flirting and failed, miserably.

    I sighed and glanced at Clove. Her expression was sympatheic.

   "What about you," I asked quietly.

    Color rushed to her face immediately, her gaze slipping to the floor. I grinned.

   "Ink." I wasn't an accusation or a question.

   Ink had courted her. The man she's been in love with since our arrival at Arcadia eight months had finally shown his affection for her in claiming her as his own.

   It was sweet. If only my love life was that great.

   "We all know that's going to last forever," i said, rolling my eyes, grinning.

   "Whatever," she snapped, embarassed.

   "You know it's true," I pointed out and I hit the red button again. I returned the weapons back to the wall and turned to her again.

   "We should go," she warned me. "We don't want Ulrich to come looking for us...again. We both started laughing at the thought. Ulrich was a short, wide man who always had a few days of growth on his chin. He wasn't exactly the friendliest person around but he could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. He was a good briber.

   "It's only until the Winter Solstice. You'll live," Clove assured me. Courting also involved telling Maze that you were courting someone. If no one knows, it doesn't count. Maze is the leader of all Rebels, nation wide. He makes frequent visits to Rebel headquarters and to Rebel hide-outs in need of supplies.

   "Okay, if you don't want Armon to court you, who, out of the boys here would you want to court you," Clove asked excitedly.

    "No one," i replied easily as we left the Training Center and headed down the main passage way passing other Rebels. We ducked under the threshold and headed to the East Wing, to take the elevator to the upper level.

   The Training Center was a sublevel, completely underground.

   "C'mon, there's got to be at least someone here you like," she pressed. I sighed Clove was all about boys these days.

   "Um okay, there's this one guy I've seen around," I told her truthfully. Arcadia was both part above the ground and below the ground. It covered over 120 acres of land in a secluded area in what was once The Lower City.

    "Yeah, who," Clove asked, skeptical.

    "Um, I don't know his name but he always in the courtyard around this time," I told her, smiling slightly. I wouldn't call it a crush...just something else. There was something about him that I liked more than anyone else.

   "How do you not know," Clove gasped as we boarded an empty elevator.

    I hit the button labeled 1T meaning first floor, terrianean. "I haven't even talked to him," I cried exasperated.

   "Well then, you're going to talk to him now," Clove said firmly as I leaned against the elevator.

    "No way," I replied, "well, at least, not dressed like this I'm not," I told her. She glanced at me up and down. I was dress in brown shorts and a pale blue shirt with my old leather hunting boots.

    "Fine," Clove agreed, "but you're going to where something of mine." Oh no was all I could think.

 

Twenty minutes later we were making our way to the courtyard on the East Wing. Unfortunately, Clove had a 'fashion sense'. I was dressed in skin tight dark blue jeans, my usual brown leather boots and a white, long sleeved blouse. Clove couldn't decide how to do my hair so she left it alone, letting it lay like it usually did; down.

    It was long with a soft feel, wavy or what some might call curly

Author's Note

ignore all spelling errors