Loki allowed a hint of a smile to creep onto his face as he saw the surprise in the widening of her pupils. Good, the tactic had had the right effect. Trust was a difficult line to walk, especially with Victors, but he was used to taking slow steps. He nodded at her, agreeing. "It's a big place, and there's a lot to see. And you have friends here now," his smile widened a little. "New ones, perhaps, but I'm sure many people would be willing to give you a place to stay. Even a more permanent one, if you wish it. You wouldn't be the first Victor to choose such a path." He looked across the room, nodding at the shock of red hair that could only be Natasha.
"And given how... strenuous the last few weeks have been for you, I'd recommend visiting a spa. If there's anything the Capitol knows how to do well, it's pamper its citizens, and you, my dear, deserve a great deal of pampering."
It was a little strange for Loki to talk about the Games -- his Games, as he sometimes thought of them -- as an agent of stress. He knew they were, of course. He'd seen it firsthand in the faces of so many Victors, not the least of which was his own brother. But here in the Capitol, it was especially difficult to remember that these children were, in fact, children, and that the Games really did take a toll on them. He couldn't examine the thought too closely, but he had learned, over the years, that sympathy was usually a far more effective tool than the fawning and hero-worship that most citizens chose to express.