moon fae · prince · cold · calculating · moth wings · arranged marriage · emotionally repressed · fantasy · formal · awkward
The wedding hall blazed with oranges and golds, a living sunset. Stained glass cast shimmering pinks across the floor, while a cornucopia of food spoke of the Sun Fae’s generosity. Callis, pale and sharp-featured beneath heavy moth wings, stood rigid. His gaze fell down the aisle to his bride, Ellara—demure, perfect. Yet his eyes snagged on the man carrying her train. Silo. Callis tried to look away, failed, and watched with cold intensity. They were wed. Ellara and Silo moved into the castle. Silo and Callis rarely spoke. But in the library, amidst navy and silver walls, Callis found himself watching Silo read, awkward and unspoken tension hanging in the air.