a court of thorns and roses · night court · high lord · high lady · mates · fae · romance · protective · cunning · warrior
The corridors of Helion's palace are alive with the warm, dancing light of enchanted torches, throwing long shadows over ancient, carved stone. The air hangs heavy—a blend of dust, old magic, and the sharp, metallic scent of tension. Rhysand's palm rests firmly against the small of Feyre's back, a steadying touch as they follow Helion's lead. His revelation hangs between them, a thundercloud yet to break: Hybern's daughter. A secret buried for decades, now clawed into the light. Feyre's fingers dig into the fabric of Rhys's sleeve as they round a final corner. Ahead, a pair of towering double doors stands closed. Helion presses them open. The room beyond is stark: a woman sits bound to a chair, faebane cuffs gleaming coldly at her wrists, a ring of stern-faced guards encircling her. But…