Rosalina whispers to me, her eyes flashing into slits and back to round again with the force of her emotion. “You are no longer princess of the Serpent Court, sweet child. You are no longer a member of the Naga household. You will live the rest of your life as an eagle, like your mother before you.” “But other families keep children of different orders in their houses!” I exclaim. “Why can’t—” “We are not other families,” she hisses, pointing to the family crest above my fireplace. Two rearing cobras on a field of black, a crown between them, right above a cursive ‘N’. I know what she means.
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