The Roses and Hibiscus Chronicles - Coriolanus Snow

Starting over

Coriolanus sat in the dimly lit dining room, his silhouette cloaked in shadows, a stark contrast to the flickering candlelight that danced across the table. He wore the same impeccably tailored suit he had donned on the night he proposed to her, a suit that had always been Indila's favorite. As she approached, he greeted her with a kiss on her forehead, then her lips, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "How did you take so long, my princess?" His words hung in the air, laden with a strange mixture of familiarity and foreboding. It had been years since he had called her by that endearment, not since the night she had attempted to take his life.

But there was something different about him now, something unsettlingly youthful, as if he had shed a decade of age in an instant. His smile, once warm and comforting, now seemed eerie and unsettling. Indila's unease only grew as she noticed the cloche placed upon his plate, shrouding its contents in mystery. When he asked what she was eating, his voice held a chilling edge that sent a shiver down her spine. "The same as you, my love," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. Coriolanus chuckled, a sound that sent a cold shiver down Indila's spine. "No, it's not possible," he insisted, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "What do you mean? What are you eating?"

With a serene expression, Coriolanus reached out to uncover the cloche, revealing a sight that made Indila's blood run cold. There, lying upon the plate, was a human heart, its crimson surface glistening in the candlelight. Horror washed over Indila as she realized the truth of Coriolanus's words. "Your heart, of course," he said calmly, his gaze never wavering from her face. And as she looked down at her own chest, she felt a searing pain, her hand coming away slick with blood from the gaping hole where her heart had once beat.

Indila felt like she was about to throw up, a familiar sensation that always accompanied this recurring dream. She couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that perhaps this time, it would be different—that the Coriolanus in her dreams would finally consume her heart. This wasn't the first time she had experienced this nightmare in recent weeks, and yet, it was the first time in her entire life that she had been haunted by the same dream for so long.

When she mustered the courage to confide in Coriolanus about her recurring nightmare, she had expected him to laugh it off, to dismiss it as nothing more than a silly figment of her imagination. After all, she had grown accustomed to the dream over the years, and it no longer held the power to frighten her. But to her surprise, Coriolanus's reaction had been anything but lighthearted. He had grown unusually serious, cautioning her against ever mentioning such taboo subjects as cannibalism in the context of Panem.

Indila couldn't help but roll her eyes at his response. How absurd to take a mere dream so seriously! She brushed off his concerns, assuring him that it was nothing more than a harmless figment of her imagination. After all, it was just a dream. What harm could it possibly do?

However, the part about feeling nauseous was all too real. Despite assurances from others that the morning sickness would dissipate after the 12th week of pregnancy, Indila found herself still grappling with bouts of nausea well into her 20th week. Every morning, like clockwork, she found herself retching up last night's dinner, a relentless reminder of the challenges of pregnancy.

Coriolanus was conspicuously absent, as usual. By this time, it was already 10 o'clock, and the children should have been off to school by now. Indila could picture Coriolanus helping them get dressed each morning, his presence a comforting routine in their daily lives. She glanced over at the nightstand and noticed a piece of chocolate lying there, a small token of affection from her husband. Despite their tumultuous past, he had proven himself to be a devoted father and, for the past eight years, a surprisingly attentive husband as well.