Ice Cream had been sitting on the edge of her chair at the opposite end of the table, the honour afforded to the Gardener, and now she stood, shoulders square beneath the pastel blue silk of her robes. Her bright blue eyes pierced through the dimness of the vaulted expanse as she lifted her chin, the slope of her perky nose exuding confidence at that angle. She was ready for a fight, if that was what it took. "I would, Royal Matron," she said, tenting her fingers on her copy of the list on the table. "I know who I want to sponsor."
Raising a manicured hand, Black Diamond gestured for her to continue. "Yes? Who would that be?"
"I believe the bulbs, in their usual wisdom, have spoken by giving her a compatible name to mine," Ice Cream said, picking up her list. "I choose Snowflake."