The feast had been going on for three days, and THE Sealed One had enjoyed almost none of it.
It was held in the great hall of the Aurum Crest, the highest palace of an Observable Existence that the Superbius Gilded had ruled for eleven thousand years. The hall was gold. Everything in it was gold, the floor and the pillars and the long tables and the vaulted ceiling far overhead, where a painted sun made of real, burning light hung eternally at noon.
The Superbius liked it that way. Pride was the root of their power, and nothing fed pride quite like a room that shone back at you from every surface.
