The Golden Quest
The chandeliers in the Grand Hotel Astoria did not so much hang from the ceiling as they floated, suspended by an invisible tension that held the crystal in a state of perpetual, glittering suspension. The air smelled of roasted duck, expensive perfume, and the faint, metallic tang of old gold. It was a feast, a sprawling, excessive thing that stretched across the entire ballroom, a sea of...
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