[No, she doesn't know about the meaning of the flower, that's his forte. She thinks nothing of it when she mentions it, just remembers seeing them grow wild outside Novi Grad at times. Remembers seeing them in small mason jar vases on the tables of sidewalk cafes when the streets are calmer in the spring.

Wanda reaches out for the tart when offered, but she lets out a small snort at his response.]

Of course it is. Fitting. [She shakes her head, giving him a wry smile and a murmured thank you.] Perhaps I should round things out and adopt the pomegranate as my favorite fruit. Food of the underworld as it is.