For a moment, Ymir doubted he had entered a duke's residence. It wasn't menacing at all.
Music just did not come from a single stage or a distant hall, it reverberated throughout the castle itself. A zither sang somewhere beyond the columns in delicate notes, a pair of musicians played beneath an arched balcony, and from somewhere higher still came the softer voice a woman singing, carried down through the enormous hall by architecture.
At the centre of the chamber law a broad circular floor of polished black stone, surrounded by shallow steps and cushions of dark crimson.
Musicians occupied the far side beneath an arrangement of golden arches, performers moved through the open space between them, their dresses flowed in rhythm, illuminate by light every time they turned.
Cerevisia had apparently decided that modesty was unnecessary when beauty could be made into an art form.
