Black.
Flowers weren't supposed to be black. Right?
They should be bright, and cheery. They should calm you, or make you happy—or at the very least, content. Black flowers were just...wrong. The iris bobbed on its stalk as if nodding in agreement.
And that wasn't the only thing wrong with this place, Calliope mused as she ran her fingers over the inky petals she had been eying. She glanced up from the flower and back to the sitting room door, beyond which Thelios and Lady Nagi were still engaged in a heated debate. Over what, she wasn't sure, though she could easily guess.
She'd come in to find them already at it, again, and at the sound of half-raised voices had opted to wait politely in the expansive entrance hall until they were done.
She looked back down at the flower and placed a
