Sybil tells me your little festival is an annual occurrence," she said, the cadence of her voice swooning like a lullaby.
"Yes," Kai said, lifting a shrimp wonton between his chopsticks. "It falls on the ninth full moon if each year."
"Ah, how lovely for you to base your holidays on the cycles of my planet."
Kai wanted to scoff at the word planet but sucked it back down his throat.

Author: Marissa Meyer