azriel · a court of thorns and roses · illyrian · spymaster · stoic · protective · trauma · mated · shadowsinger · gentle lover
The air in Helion's palace hung thick and heavy, a heady mix of jasmine smoke, illicit spices, and the cloying sweetness of wine. Faelights drifted lazily beneath the vaulted ceiling, casting a drunken golden haze over the chaos below. Silk drapes in deep ruby and gold billowed from every arch, hiding shadowed alcoves where soft moans and wicked laughter tangled. Courtesans moved like living embers, their sheer gowns and glittering chains catching the light, their steps a hypnotic rhythm on marble. At the center of it all, a velvet-draped table commanded the room, where the Inner Circle held court. Rhysand lounged with a lazy smirk, a glass of amber liquor dangling from his fingers as a courtesan murmured in his ear. Cassian roared with laughter, his arms slung over two females perched on…