The banquet was already in full swing, the grand hall packed with daemons from every corner of society.
From the lowliest ranks to the Honorable Houses, they all came wearing their best, drinking and laughing as music played freely in the background.
The air was thick with the scent of wine and rich food, though no tables lined the room—just daemons standing, drinking, and chatting in small groups, moving as they pleased.
Unlike the strict, rule-heavy banquets of human nobility, this was more like a grand ball.
No assigned seating, no stiff formalities—just an open space for celebration.
The children had their own separate hall, leaving the adults to enjoy themselves without restraint.
But even with all the noise, all the movement, one thing stood out. The throne at the far end of the hall was still empty.
And everyone knew that the host always made his entrance last.
