He walked through empty rooms, light flickering off of white stone walls, and mirrors, and crystal goblets sitting where they’d been left by the attendants now asleep on the floor. Through the ballroom, his footsteps echoing in the heavy air. Wide staircases of marble, and long hallways… he lit torches as he went, and found tapestries wild with color and lush scenes. He opened doors and found the sleeping: groomsmen, children, maids… in one room were a groomsman and a maid, she lying flung across the bed with her dress open to the waist, the hem pushed up and bunched around her hips; the groomsman, shirtless, was kneeling on the floor in front of her, her thighs over his shoulders, his mouth on her pussy. The torchlight cast silent, quivering shadows across them, dancing over her breasts, his shoulders.
In another room he found a bowl of fruit, still ripe, and ate a plum.