The handle of my door was adorned with a small basket holding a single marigold. Hung with obvious care. No card was present, but the scent of her by my door told me who'd sent them.
> I recall my hand lingering near this variety of flower when we played that guessing game, so maybe that was to blame. <
I pulled the bloom free, its petals still soft despite the journey and wait in the hall. She must have left it not too long ago. The timing even felt like providence - or perhaps the Lunar Goddess has a sense of scorn for my assertion that the deity mostly stays out of things.
For tonight, with the full moon high above the city, I had a little working to do. And the symbolism of this particular piece of plant life is even better than the 'common harebell' I picked out in the wild.
> Apparently those things are associated with fae in this world and I will not be using that for the ritual, no thank you. The child will have enough trouble as it is. <
