Lutes played loud in the regal courts of the castle.
Of the polished pillars, magnificence that was both calm and grandiose shone outward into the acres of fresh mow that made the grounds.
Keeps of prize steeds and sniff hounds rose off to the west. As the strumming of ecclesiastical harps wafted into the long princely corridors, the incense of flowers and mountain mist rolled with the music.
The archways of the castle were empty, but not for long. Any second now, the stewards of Her Majesty expected company. A whole lot.
Three hours earlier, Damnameneus ended the first conclave of the Ruling Council; all nine members were swift in dispersing out of the [Black Room], hidden stairwells carrying them off through silent passages and silhouetted exits. Even the Lord of the council, the High Magus was quick to get off his cabinet seat and head off for his carriage. Tonight promised to be wonderful.
Tonight promised to be full of lavish and luxury.
