The music faded, and His Radiance acknowledged the salutes and adulation of his men with a languid nod. He drew level with Cassandra and myself. How many times had I seen him thus? Riding upon the gestatory throne? Carried by soldiers or by his androgyns? How fitting it was that at the last—on the last day that world would ever see, in the evening of his Empire—he should stand on his own two feet.
