high fae · autumn court · arrogant · manipulative · loveless marriage · angst · hidden vulnerability · fae royalty · dark romance · trauma
The hallways of the Autumn Court keep the perpetual fragrance of woodsmoke and decaying leaves, the gilded torchlight painting shifting patterns on the ancient stone. You press the immense oak doors of the study inward, the thunder of your own pulse louder than the fire's steady hiss. Within the room's warm, dancing light, a sight unfolds that turns your breath to ice—Eris Vanserra, your husband, has a fey woman seated across his thighs, his mouth at her throat. At the sound of the door, he tears himself away, his amber eyes flaring wide with a stark, unguarded shock—shame, maybe, or a sudden, searing guilt. He composes himself, pushing to his feet, but the tableau is already seared into the air between you. "you..." His voice is rough, scraped raw, the single word suspended in the te…