Coriolanus Snow Shirt Novels & Stories

Each button on the coat was crafted from polished brass, gleaming in the dim light of the room. Beneath the coat, the guard wore a pristine white shirt with a stiff collar, accentuated by a black bowtie that contrasted starkly against the paleness of the fabric. His trousers were a dark grey, tailored to fit him perfectly, and tapered down to a pair of gleaming black boots that shone in the light.

An emotion she rarely got the pleasure to see there. The pretty boy laughed hard, “I thought these things would never see the light of day! Leo you bastard. I’ll bet he never told you what I purchased for him in return.” Grayson unfurled the shirt which happened to be her second favorite, If you think I’m hot, you should see my friend Leo. Cori chuckled when she saw it. “You should totally wear that one. Leo would like it. And no he didn’t tell me. I didn’t even know about these fantastic shirts he’d bought you. Do tell.”

Noah said, looking between both of them. “Good morning,” Eli said. “Is it a good morning?” Noah said. “It’s a great morning actually,” Lucien replied this time, without looking up from his plate. “I can see that.” Noah pointed his fork briefly at the shirt. “That’s not yours.” “It’s mine now.” “It has a Saint Aurelius crest on the pocket.” “And go to Saint Aurelius.” “With the Lion’s Den symbol on the collar,” Noah said. “Those are simple details,” Eli said pleasantly.

But sweet gods, it could certainly be cold enough to make up for the lack of snow. A shiver snaked its way up Nicoli’s spine, sharp and sudden, making his teeth clatter and his shoulders hunch reflexively. The chill seemed to creep inside the seams of his wool coat, down into his bones, despite the rabbit-fur lining in his black leather boots. He tightened the folds of his cloak around himself, gloved hands burrowing deep into its warmth. It wasn’t enough. Not against this kind of cold. The kind that didn't just bite—it lingered. It was somehow worse without snow.

And right beside him, matching him stride for stride, is Eli. If Ronan is the darkness, Eli is the lightning strike that sets the world on fire. He walks with a grace that goes hand in hand with arrogance, looking entirely too fresh for someone who just marched through the riverlands. He’s wearing a coat of deep, violent crimson, embroidered with golden thread. It’s unbuttoned and the shirt beneath is loose, exposing the column of his throat and a hint of his collarbone. Displaying the collar he always wears with such taunting pride.

Coral and I sat side by side, parchment spread before us, tallying the logistics for the upcoming winter hunt. "We'll need more saddle blankets," Coral said, her fingers trailing down a column of inventory. "And warm boots. If Cerelith's going, she'll need something more functional than satin." I smiled faintly as I dipped my quill in the inkwell. "I don't know satin came in hunting edition." Coral laughed, tucking a curl behind her ear. "With Cerelith, anything is possible. She once tried to fire a crossbow wearing pearls." I shook my head trying not to laugh too hard. "Thank you," I said after a moment, quieter now. "For staying. For helping. I don't think I would have survived these past

And when that wasn't enough—when the joy and disbelief swelled too large to contain—I threw myself backward into a snowbank, arms spread wide, my cloak fanning around me. The cold bit through the fabric, but it felt clean. Sharp. Alive. I didn't care that the two guards trailed behind me like silent shadows. I didn't care that I probably looked ridiculous. A shadow suddenly fell across me, blocking the pale winter sunlight. I blinked against the falling snow and found Corbin standing above me. His dark attire looked almost black against the sea of white surrounding us. Snowflakes settled in his hair, where strands of blue and violet glimmered faintly beneath the gray light. Even his eyes see

His voice was so hoarse that it made my ears sting, "I wondered why that thing didn't scoop out your heart. Turns out, your blood was the best shield..." …… I woke up drenched in sweat, back in my bed. It was a week before the Haunts world descended. The gold bar from last night's burial was still heavy in my pocket.

I stepped over his body like it was trash and walked toward the throne that belonged to me. Christmas Eve. Peace on earth, they say. Outside the intricate, bulletproof iron gates of the Corleone estate, snow fell in heavy, silent drifts. Three figures, dressed in rags and reeking of the sewer, knelt in the slush, shivering violently. It was Lorenzo, and the two children who were once hailed as the heirs to the empire. Leo and Mia’s hands and feet were covered in frostbite, red, swollen, and ulcerated. When they saw my armored Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly gliding out of the driveway, the two children threw themselves at the gate like feral animals. Their fingernails scratched against the metal,

I try not to think about it. When I come out, Korrin is waiting in the hall. He has somehow managed to tie the sheet around his waist, gladiator-style, and is preening in the mirror. “Are you sure you’re not a peacock?” I say, biting back laughter. He looks over his shoulder and strikes a pose. “You act like this is not the most comfortable outfit you have ever seen.” “Well, it’s not.” “Liar.” He closes the gap between us in two strides, and the wall of blue muscle is suddenly in my face. He tugs at my T-shirt. “This is cute. You should always wear this color.”