Andromeda watches the crowd of people as they dance and mingle, a finger tapping idly on the stem of her champagne flute. Angora outdid herself on the decor this year— gossamer drapes hang from the ceiling, and when they catch the light in a certain way they shimmer like faerie wings, subtle enough to be a dream. The chandeliers are similarly ethereal, the candles on their arms flickering in shades of amber and honey.
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