For only the second time in the course of their conversation, his comment managed to pierce the armor of grief and anger that Wanda wore. She had bristled instinctively at his 'I understand,' but the words that followed made her feel something other than distrust and disdain. Her eyes watched him carefully, taking in every word.
Was he right? Could she adapt? Not to settling for a shallow, parasitic life among the rich and bored, of course. But changing enough that she could actually strike damage to the very heart of the Capitol. She had adapted in the arena fast enough, but then she'd had to. And she'd had Pietro—fast, strong, clever Pietro—by her side. The poison that the Capitol was stewed in seemed more toxic than anything they'd confronted in the Games.
"I hope that's true," she said fervently, this time her sincerity unfeigned.
She shrugged her shoulders then, trying to shake off her seriousness. No one in the Capitol appreciated that quality and there was no real reason to think this man was different, for all his seeming show of sympathy. After hours of conversing with the most obnoxious and offensive of Capitol society, she knew she was in danger of letting her guard down around him. That would never do. She had to remember her mission—as inchoate as it was.
"But I'm concerned I may be helping Victors gain a reputation for total self-absorption. I've been boring you with all my plans, and I don't even know your name!" Wanda managed a self-deprecating smile at this, wishing just then that she had a quarter of her brother's confident charm.