Nike Valencia // District One

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"Mum? Dad? I'm home!"

My winnings jingle in my pockets and I close my hands over them to muffle the noise, smiling sweetly when my mother sweeps into the room. "There you are, dear!" she smiles broadly, wrapping her bony arms around me like a vice. "How were your lessons?"

I think of dark dark rooms, the familiar clatter of poker chips, of spinning dice and smoke that still lingers in my nose, and my smile widens. "Lessons were wonderful," I tell her, because she's Ms. Valencia and she thinks that her family is perfect and her kingdom is safe and who am I to break the news that the sieges of her children are tearing it apart?

On my way through the living room I bump into someone. Spotting the telltale flash of brown hair, my eyes narrow. "Watch where you're going, you little insect," I mutter, shoving her aside. She stumbles a step and then spins around to glare at me, eyes flashing dangerously. My muscles all become tense, but then I hear another familiar voice calling her from the next room and she turns away, following it.

I relax, watching her until she disappears around the corner. Artemis and Apollo don't belong here. They never have. A couple of half-blood street scum, spoiling our good clean family name. I certainly don't spare them any pity. Because of them, I'm always just grouped as one of three, the sixteen year olds. They don't seem to realize that I am nothing like those little rats. Maybe that's the problem. She's only half Valencia, but Artemis excels in training. Despite my superior height, I have yet to take her down in sparring when I actually do choose to attend training (a few hard-earned coins and the trainers say nothing to Dad). Apollo was blessed with a handsome face, and after Mum grudgingly admitted he would marry into good money because of it, suddenly it was like he was one of us. (Mum never says I'll marry into money. She's never even called me pretty.)

I pass Ro on the way upstairs, and she shoots me one of her winning smiles. I grin back at her. Ro's always been easier to get along with. She never compares me to the rats, and because of that I'll sometimes use my winnings to buy her those sea treasures she seems to adore. Ro's the one that'll really marry into money some day. She's practically flawless, living up to her name perfectly. Goddess of beauty.

I tend to tolerate my other siblings. It's not that I don't like them - it's just that, even growing up with them, sometimes it feels like they're strangers. They learned not to play with me when I was little and always cheated at their silly games in order to win, so I was often the odd one out, left to wander on my own. That's how I discovered gambling, really. I'm so often gone that sometimes I wonder if I could disappear without them even noticing. Except for Ro, of course.

c o d e w o r d / o t h e r .

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