HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 120

Everyone was ushered out into the saloon to enjoy cocktails while the banquet hall was transformed back for its intended purpose. The last time guests had milled about this opulent room, Lilith had been part of them as well. She had scared the wits out of him then, and if Coriolanus was being perfectly honest, she still did.

It might not have happened in the way he'd imagined, but ultimately, she had still stolen his heart.

The rock glass in his hand contained a clear brown liquid that wasn't brandy. It wasn't even alcohol. He had instructed Sergeant and Festus to keep him away from the substance. Today, he had to stay sober. Today, he had to play the role of a respectful, sorrowful son. The latter wasn't an act.

As Coriolanus knocked back the contents, he grimaced, sealing the impression that he was consuming hard liquor. In reality, it was just iced tea. He had never been a tea person, though he suspected he might appreciate the Long Island version.

Pinching his nose bridge, Coriolanus closed his eyes and tried to tune everything out. He was surrounded by some of his closest friends—Festus, Persephone, Lysistrata, Clemensia—none of whom were speaking. Through their silence carried gossip from neighbouring groups, speculations relating to his facial disfigurement that he knew likewise raced through the minds of those sharing his couch.

Per Festus's foresight, the media had not caught wind of the incident. Festus himself had not leaked the story either—not to Coriolanus's knowledge, at least. Everyone had looked shocked enough, except Livia, who gloated a bit, and Lilith, who just seemed in pain.

He'd elected not to cover it up for her. He'd wanted to win her sympathy with his injury. He'd not meant for it go as far as to hurt like she was the one with the blackened jaw.

Coriolanus tore his eyes open and glared at the ceiling, yearning to see his chandelier rather than her agonized face, but nothing went his way anymore. He still saw her, and he still heard her.

Apologies didn't solve problems. This one in particular only exacerbated his. She had said sorry to him many a time, and like most of those times, frustratingly, she had not said what she was sorry for. But it didn't sound like it was for his loss. It didn't sound like it was for what happened at TGRS. It sounded like the last time.

It sounded like the end.

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, both hot and cold on his skin. He ignored it, but Lysistrata squeezed his hand, supposedly in comfort. It was anything but. Coriolanus extricated himself, gently. If he lost his temper, it would truly be the end.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, swiping the moisture from his good side with the back of his thumb.

In that one brief motion, Coriolanus glimpsed her. He had been adamantly avoiding the direction of Midas Gold, and he still was, but Lilith wasn't with her father. Granted, he had not seen her face, but he would recognize her now even just the swish of a skirt. As it was, he witnessed at least half of her form disappearing into the elevator—his elevator.

With all the self-restraint he could muster, Coriolanus forced himself to sit, to look at anywhere but the lift. When Sergeant announced that dinner was served, he still had not seen Lilith return. As bodies converged toward the open door, he seized the opportunity to glance around to confirm his observation, then leaned over to Festus.

"Go ahead," said Coriolanus quietly. "I'll catch up."

Festus grabbed the crook of his elbow, looking solicitous. "You okay?"

"Nature's call." He patted Festus good-naturedly on the back. "Save me a seat."

Like this wasn't his house. Like he wasn't the host.