A Mummer's Throne by Fred M. White

High up above the town the fortress-palace gleamed with lights. It stood over Rusta like a flashing tiara on the dusky hair of a queen. A great dance was in progress at the palace, and most of Montenana's chivalry had gathered there. The streets of the capital were quiet for the most part; there was a powder of stars in the blue dome overhead. In the oleanders and myrtles a drifting tangle of fireflies glistened. Away beyond the fertile plain was the sea, and occasionally far out the flinging rays of a revolving lantern from the lighthouse on Martyr Island. Assuredly a happy country this!

Inside were thousands of glistening electric globes under pink shades clustered on the silver electroliers, strings and ropes of roses, a tangle of fern and foliage against the polished oak of the ancient walls, the dull flash of armour here and there. Here were pictures of dead-and-gone rulers of Montenana, makers of history before this age of luxury commenced, and before the stone flagged passages were littered with rare Persian rugs like tinted rose leaves in a Persian garden.