"Nice," she said with a nod, surveying the room. "Very nice. These ponies clearly knew how to treat their royalty." A golden bowl was resting on the right arm of the chair, and Trixie tipped it towards her, finding that whatever it had held had long since mouldered away to nothing. Then it occurred to her that it hadn't moved for millennia, and she was the first pony to touch it in as long. She felt oddly ashamed of that, and put it back where it was, then slinked back out of the throne.