Madam Celeste, whom I was only knowing for the first time, stood in the middle of the drawing room like a carved statue, every bone in her spine aligned in a perfect, terrifying line. The sunlight from the tall windows cut across her silver hair, making it look like a halo, which was ironic because nothing about her felt heavenly. She clapped her hands once, the sound cracking through the air like a whip. “Stand straight, Luna.” I straightened immediately, even though my back was already stiff. My shoulders rolled back, chin lifted, with my arms at my sides like she’d shown me. It was only my third hour with her, and I already felt like I was failing a final exam. The final exam being the etiquette practice for the Luna convergence ball which was only in a few hours time. “The Lunar Convergence,” she said, pacing slowly in front of me, “is not just a gathering of pack leaders. It is theater. Politics. A performance of unity in a display of our woven traditions.” I n
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