The Food Coma was a universal concept, transcending time, space, and species.
By the time the moon was high over Solaris, the Royal Dining Hall looked like a battlefield where the only casualties were roasted chickens and bottles of vintage wine.
Rurik was asleep with his face on the table, a half-eaten tart clutched in his hand. Vali was curled up on top of Rurik's shoulders, drooling onto the Warlord's fur.
Rajah was leaning back in his chair, picking his teeth with a small dagger, looking more content than he had in years. Leonora sat beside him, sipping tea and pretending she wasn't inching her chair closer to his.
The Kids—Arjun, Ellia, Silas, Clover, and Jasper—had formed a pile on the rug near the hearth, guarded by a very sleepy Pickles.
But Ophelia was still wide awake.
She sat on the balcony railing, swinging her legs over the edge. She held a crystal glass filled with dark, spiced rum. She swirled it, watching the amber liquid catch the moonlight.
