Chapter Text
I do not now remember when I first learned I was different. Or rather than my life belonged to others besides myself. In fact that factor of my fate is why I am now the center of a procession which leads to the main altar. An altar that will lead to my solidification in history. I never wanted any of this, but this is my duty, and my ticket to freedom.
The Abbey shimmers with the magnificence of its guests. Gallery upon gallery filled with the most important figures of Panem’s government and aristocracy. All craning their heads for a glimpse of me. I can’t pretend that this level of attention is rather foreign and uncomfortable. But I must carry on for this is just the beginning. I remain with my head held high in a blank expression which masks my anxiety. I walk slowly, careful not to trip over my heavy velvet robes. I must not make a mistake.
Today I face my future, one I didn’t really comprehend until this blessed moment. I must have been about eleven when I knew. What couldn’t possibly remain hidden. The first three sons of King Finnick II could only boast one living heir. And that heir was me. It was that day when I knew I must trace a path ordained by others.
As I sit in the center of the Abbey looking up at the magnificent ceiling with its rosy cheeked angels, I will myself to sit still and commit myself to my duty, for papa, for my dearest Prim. I steal a glance to my mother and Prim who stand along with the others in the gallery with an expression of pride.
And with Prim in my mind. I am anointed with oil by elderly hands and in a fast flash of events that follow, the oath, the golden robe, the golden Sceptre in my right hand and the Rod of Equity in my left. I am finally in front of the eternal symbol of my new position. The waves of historical significance hit me all at once as those same elderly hands lift the ermine-rimmed crown only a few centimeters from my head. With a prayer, he gingerly sets it on my head. It fits perfectly. The fabulously jewelled crown weighs down my head, but that does not stop me from looking straight ahead. I look at all the red velvet and ermine worn by everyone present. My gaze catches on one of the foreign princes in the gallery, a small smile plastered on his face causes a faint smile on my own lips that for the life of me I can’t hide.
As I turn back and face the crowd who lift their white gloved hands in the air in unison. The contrast of the colors make their hands seem like a thousand swans taking flight. With a dazzling magnificence the whole room fills with one single proclamation.
"God save the Queen!, God save the Queen!”
It was that day when I comprehended that for even with the knowledge that I was heiress to the Throne, before that day of days I can’t pretend I understood the phrase’s full significance.