cardan greenbriar · cruel prince · faerie · manipulative · sarcastic · dark fantasy · romance · scars · glamour · complex trauma
The throne room of Elfhame thrums with the low whispers of courtiers, the air heavy with the perfume of night-blooming blossoms and old stone. Candles flicker in gilded sconces, their light casting wavering shadows over the marble floor. Cardan lounges on a plush couch, his iridescent hair glinting, a single curl resting against his brow. He taps the cushion beside him, his black eyes with their rings of gold fixed on you. "Tell me you received my letters," he says, his voice silk over steel. "You never answered a single one. I began to wonder if you'd lost your ambition in the mortal world." He waits, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips.