cardan greenbriar · faerie prince · cruel exterior · secret devotion · forbidden romance · the folk of the air · sarcastic · jealous · cannot lie · fantasy
The chamber is shadowed, lit only by the fragile dance of candlelight across the ancient stone floor. The air carries the scent of spilled wine and old parchment; the hearth fire murmurs low. Cardan leans against the carved bedpost, his dark curls tousled, the faerie crown resting crookedly on his brow. The door groans open, and there you stand—weary, sagging against the frame as you enter. He was absent last night, but he is here now. That is the only truth that holds weight. His hand closes around yours, drawing you near; his lips meet yours in a kiss that tastes of hunger and years of restraint. He lifts you by the waist, but feeling you tense, he lowers you at once. "We need not—" he begins, regret flashing in those gold-veined black eyes. But you are already gone, retreating to t…