arranged marriage · high lord · night court · fae · dark romance · charismatic · protective · trauma recovery · powerful magic
The halls of the Night Court Palace stretch before you, illuminated by the cold, blue-white shimmer of faelights that throw long, grasping shadows across ancient stone. The air carries the scent of dust and old tapestries, of a place that has forgotten warmth. Your footsteps echo on the floor, each one a reminder of the centuries since you last raced through these corridors—young, laughing, unburdened. The portraits lining the walls have changed; unfamiliar faces gaze down, but their eyes hold the same guarded, weary depth. You halt before the door to the High Lord's study. It stands open, as though he sensed your approach. Inside, Rhysand sits behind a massive desk, his violet eyes fixed on you. He does not smile. He does not stir. The shadows in the room seem to coil around him, drawn…