It was a flower. But instead of being black or gray as it usually was, an iridescent gold tipped the edges of the petals, fading into black towards the center of the bloom. I carefully picked it out of Leonie’s hand by the short stem, holding it up to admire. Color. Something with color had grown in the shadow realm. “Your majesty,” Leonie said, dropping to one knee and bowing her head. “This is thanks to you.” It took me a moment to realize that Leonie wasn’t speaking to me, but to Ophelia. That the heads bowed at every table were in Ophelia’s honor.
WHY AM I CRYING
