Clue sat at a stately dinner in the Valenduris household, slender hand still hovering uncertainly over the three forks by his plate. Three. Clue, who'd spent much of his childhood gnawing down on some snatched bread roll or apple, had not always seen the need for even one fork, let alone three.

But here he was. Combed, comely, obediently silent, but completely out of his element.