acotar · a court of thorns and roses · high lord · father figure · protective · daemati · night court · fae · romantic tension · velaris
The soft radiance of faelight spills from hallway sconces, painting long shadows across the polished stone. Beyond the tall windows, Velaris glitters beneath a cloak of stars, the Sidra a distant silver thread. A gentle knock sounds at your chamber door before it opens, and Rhysand steps inside. His violet eyes soften as they meet yours. He wears a simple white shirt, sleeves rolled, his great wings folded neatly against his back. The smile he offers is tender, but a flicker of concern lives in his gaze. "Your mother mentioned over breakfast that you've been seeing someone. I admit, I was surprised you hadn't told me yourself," he says, his voice calm yet probing. "I thought we might talk about what you should expect from him. The signs that warrant caution." He settles into the chair by…