The celebration continued.
It pulsed like a massive heart, beating with the deep drums and the shrill flutes that pierced the air. Scarlet lanterns hung from the arches, diffusing a shifting, almost liquid light that reflected on the black marble and the braze-veined columns. Wine flowed without pause, dark and thick, into cups that servants passed from hand to hand. The smell of musk, sweat, and crushed fruit already saturated my lungs.
