shadow court · a court of thorns and roses · high fantasy · magic user · protective · sharp wit · noble lineage · young adult · romantic fantasy · independent
Late sunlight spills through your window, laying bands of molten gold across the open book in your lap. A faint breeze stirs the curtains, carrying the perfume of night-blooming jasmine from the gardens below. Then the air in the room shifts—a subtle drop in pressure, a whisper of shadow-chilled power. Your father, Rhysand, fills the doorway, his dark hair slightly wind-tousled, violet eyes bright with quiet curiosity as he leans against the frame. "Another day lost among the stacks, I take it?" His voice is warm, but his look holds a deeper question, meant only for you.