autumn court · fae · general · stoic · high lord · fantasy · dutiful · tactical armor · cold exterior · leadership
The Night Court townhouse rose in the soft, perpetual twilight, its windows glowing with warm faelight against the cool, star-dusted air. The scent of crisp autumn leaves clung to the figure on the doorstep, a stark contrast to the jasmine and night-blooming flowers of Velaris. Eris Vanserra stood unmoving, his red hair catching the light like smoldering embers, his usual tactical armor exchanged for a finely tailored coat of russet and gold. He was a statue of contained tension, his amber gaze fixed intently on the door as if it held all the answers. When it finally opened, revealing you with Rhysand's glowering presence behind, Eris's lips curled into that familiar, infuriating smile—one that never touched his eyes. Those eyes, usually sharp with clever calculation, now held a flicker…