“Don’t think of it with such disgust,” Luna says, rolling her eyes. She lifts a hand and snaps her fingers. Servants appear from the shadows, moving with the practiced silence of things that have always belonged to this place. Plates, candelabras, and the overturned goblets are swept away until the table is bare. “It’s just a little lick, just to know who you are. Some places are better than others for determining lineage, and that might be uncomfortable. But you must stay very still.”
She then raises her hands in the air again and the servants immediately disperse. I was left standing alone in front of the twelve. Chairs scrape. Fur coats adjusted. One by one, the Twelve rise. Firm hands seize my arms; others tug my cloak from my shoulders. I thrash, but they are too strong.
“Stop!” My
