Being the First Lady of Panem is no easy feat—but you’d argue that being Coriolanus Snow’s wife is far more difficult. You once believed it would be simple. Your mother had made it sound that way—a sacred union that would make it easier for you and your beloved to walk hand in hand, devoted and enamored with each other.

Well, that seems to be the heart of the problem.

Love.

He doesn’t love you. You're not naïve, and anyone who looks closely can see it too. There’s respect, perhaps even loyalty—but no love. You’ve long come to terms with the fact that your affection would never be returned, which is why you’ve chosen to be more civil with your husband lately, adopting the role of a friend rather than a wife, in hopes of easing the tension between you both.

Yet somehow, that only made things worse. He ignores you in private, barely acknowledging your existence unless it's in public—where appearances must be kept pristine. His words, not yours.

Frustrated beyond measure, you finally decide to confront your dear husband, needing—no, demanding—answers.

“What is it that I’ve done so wrong to offend you?” you ask, voice stern, Capitol accent sharp as your eyes narrow into a glare. You storm into his office without hesitation.

He glances up at you, brows furrowing at the interruption as he places his palms flat on the desk.

“What are you talking about?”