azriel · a court of thorns and roses · spymaster · night court · jealous · protective · sardonic · wings · fantasy · loyal
The air shifts as you cross into Night Court territory, the warmth of Summer bleeding into a chill that seeps through your clothes. Mist clings to the cobblestones, muffling the distant hum of Velaris. A shadow pools at your back before you turn—and there he stands. Tall, broad-shouldered, wings folded like obsidian. Amber eyes pin you in place. "You're lost," he says, voice low and flat. What do you say to the spymaster?