Flower Language

By: MJ Whelan, Short Story Editor

No one watches the small details that hosts put into the decorations. As an experienced host, I'm well aware of this. So that's why the flowers my host this evening chose were quite striking. I paid them no mind though, until I saw that our host this evening also had a white chrysanthemum pinned to his chest.

Odd, for a man not in mourning. What use would he have for that pale flower? Life had smiled upon him for his whole existence, so why would he wear the flower of death?

The arrangements caught my gaze due to the striking colors of the main body, and the dark flower that was displayed on top, almost like a crown. People milled about, not even thinking about the deeper meanings behind the symbols around us. A pity really, a lot can be conveyed with "meaningless" symbols and flowers.

"Oh, Mr. Macabrewood!" a shrill voice called out with a hint of mirth. I turned to see who had called my attention away from the flower arrangements.

"Oh, Lady Pearltorch," I took my hat off and gave a small bow, "What use could I be of to you?"

Upon observation, the lady seemed to have enjoyed the champagne a bit too much, if the flush in her cheeks and the odd giggles were anything to go by.

She giggled again, "I was just curious about what all these symbols mean, and I know that you're quite the expert on the subject."

"That I am, my lady," I offered my arm to her which she gladly took as I led her out of the ballroom.

"Very few things have the same meaning across our great world," I droned as I led her into a nearby parlor.

"Oh, how fascinating!"

Lady Pearltorch sat down on a low couch and watched me as I crossed to the mantle and ran my gloved hand over the base of the silver cross displayed there.

"An interesting fact, my lady, while being holy symbols, crosses can also be seen as signs of danger. This is due to their history of being used as painful execution methods for criminals."

"Oh my!" Lady Pearltorch covered her mouth with her hand, "That is interesting, albeit a little dark. What about those flowers Lord Earldark used to decorate the ballroom?"

"They are quite the interesting choices," I held up a small foxglove that I had taken from a bouquet, "Foxglove for insincerity, rhododendron for beware, oleander for dangerous beauty, begonia for a warning, and black dahlia's for betrayal."

"How striking and dark-"

Lady Pearltorch stopped as the sound reached them.

"Seems my suspicions with the odd bouquet were correct," I mused as Lady Pearltorch turned pale.

The sound of screams had reached our little parlor.