The Roses and Hibiscus Chronicles - Coriolanus Snow

The general from 2

"This is my wife, Indila Snow," Coriolanus introduced, pulling Indila back from her contemplative thoughts. Spyridon took her left hand and kissed it slowly. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Snow," he remarked. There was a certain gleam in his eyes that made Indila blush, perhaps the direct gaze while he kissed her hand; something about it felt different. "My pleasure, General," she responded politely.

"It's a beautiful ring, Coriolanus. I see you still have taste," Spyridon remarked as he let go of her hand. He continued, "I'm sorry I couldn't be here. I was killing some rebels, someone has to." They shared a laugh, delving into topics that held little interest for Indila as her mind wandered elsewhere.

It was a typical party, and Indila navigated through the guests, playing the role of a gracious host, engaging in conversations as if she genuinely cared about every word spoken. To ease the situation, she indulged in some posca. As the night progressed, most of the guests became intoxicated, and some began to leave – a relief for Indila.

With her hosting duties fulfilled, she allowed herself a moment of solitude. Across the room, Coriolanus was engrossed in conversation with a slender girl who seemed captivated by him, giggling and smiling. Indila couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy, followed by a guilt for harboring such feelings. As much as she labeled the girl in her thoughts, she recognized that the root of her unease lay within herself, not the other woman.

"So, you had already discovered you are married to the biggest asshole in Panem," Spyridon's words startled Indila, causing her to jump in fright. She hadn't noticed him approaching so closely. The stark contrast between Spyridon's candid comment and the adoration Coriolanus received from others left her taken aback. People treated him like he was some kind of god.

Spyridon seemed to pick up on her shock. "I'm a district boy, after all. Hating Capitol people is kind of our thing," he explained. The revelation that the districts harbored such feelings towards the Capitol wasn't entirely new to Indila. The Games had already hinted at the tensions, though Coriolanus tried to paint a different picture.

As she processed the unexpected conversation, more pressing matters crowded her thoughts, leaving her with a mix of emotions and a newfound awareness of the complexities within Panem.

Spyridon's flirtatious tone didn't go unnoticed by Indila, and she saw an opportunity to gather more information. "My husband is not exactly a compassionate soul, but he has his own amazing features," she remarked. Spyridon chuckled, seemingly entertained. "He sure does. My cousin spent one summer with him in the districts, and we've never seen him again. And then he killed my aunt and uncle, just to make sure he gets their money. He's an amazing murderer, really one of a kind," Spyridon shared, his words delivered with a disturbing nonchalance.

While Indila had suspected such dark truths, hearing them confirmed still stung. However, she maintained her composure, understanding the need to act unfazed. "I told you, many features. By the way, if you say he hates your family so much, why would he make you a general at such a young age?" she inquired. Spyridon's smile was cryptic. "Even monsters can feel guilty, or he just didn't want people to think it was personal. He's evil; you deserved better," he added, attempting to offer some twisted form of comfort. Indila managed a smile, keeping her thoughts to herself.

Spyridon then shifted his focus. "Not to mention the fact you are way too beautiful to be with him," he remarked. Indila rolled her eyes, feeling a tinge of disappointment in the lack of creativity. "Okay, what do you want?" she asked, trying to inject a seductive tone. Spyridon pointed to Coriolanus, who was still engrossed in conversation with the other girl. "I want you to know that I'm free if you are interested in some payback," he suggested, a proposition that hung in the air like an unspoken challenge.