Timber

Chapter Fifteen: Snow in the Rose Garden

Hazel's heart leaped in her chest as a chill ran through her bloodstream, like icy fingers tracing the contours of her body. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly turned to find herself making eye contact with Senator Snow.

For a moment, Hazel could not tear her gaze away from him. His striking presence, tall frame, perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders, and piercing blue eyes cast a looming shadow over her.

At some point, she realized that he had asked a question, and the longer she went without answering, the more peculiar it must have seemed.

"They are beautiful," she finally managed to say, her voice betrayed a hint of a tremble. "We don't have many roses in seven." Her gaze shifted to the vast expanse of roses that stretched across a significant portion of the garden. It was a breathtaking sight. "Only wild roses, and they are not nearly as beautiful as these."

His touch was oddly out of place amidst the delicate petals as he ran his gloved fingers over a bright magenta-colored rose. He bent to smell it. "Wild roses can be some of the most beautiful if cultivated properly," Snow commented.

"Well, they don't come in all these colors," Hazel replied, her eyes drifting to a particularly odd patch of roses nearby. They were tinged with orange and adorned with black stripes, far from natural. "I've never seen a wild rose with tiger stripes before."

A small chuckle escaped Snow's lips, taking in the roses she was referring to with familiarity, "Those are a particular favorite of my cousin; they are called tiger lily roses."

"How creative," Hazel countered, gazing at the unusual flowers. "It appears that the Castellans were quite fond of them, just like your cousin."

He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting from the roses to Hazel. "Yes, the Castellans did have a particular fondness for these roses."

Curious, Hazel pressed further. Then, looking around the grand manor, she added, "This manor is incredible. But where are they while we're all here occupying their home?" Her eyes flicked to the ever-watchful cameras, a hint of caution in her tone.

Snow's response came after a brief pause, his expression unreadable. "The Castellans are currently on an extended leave. They generously offered their home for the use of the tributes," he said, his voice delicate and neutral.

Hazel recalled the zoo where tributes were previously housed. It's certainly a step up from that. "And when they return? What then for the tributes?"

Snow paused, his gaze lingering on a distant point in the garden. "I wouldn't expect them back anytime soon. Why the interest in the Castellans?" Snow queried.

Hazel shrugged, "Just curious, Senator."

Snow resumed his stroll through the garden, his long coat flowing behind him. He stopped by a bush of light lavender roses, plucking a petal and examining it closely. Hazel churned his words over and over in her head.

"You know," he began, his voice low and measured, "I've always found it quite intriguing that different colored roses carry different symbolic meanings."

"I have heard that before somewhere." She couldn't remember exactly where. Flowers weren't exactly on the forefront of her mind much back home. "So, do those tiger lilies represent large cat conservation?" she asked.

He paused, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "I'm not entirely sure what those represent, honestly," he confessed. "But take pink roses, for example; they symbolize gratitude, while burgundy signifies passion. Purple embodies enchantment, orange speaks of desire and yellow stands for friendship. Green embodies harmony, and red, well, that's obviously love. What I've always appreciated about roses is their straightforward meanings. No games or tricks, unlike people."