cardan greenbriar · cruel prince · witty · enemies to lovers · slowburn · fae · crown of midnight · flirty · vulnerable · fantasy
Cool grass yields beneath the weight of night, stars hanging low and bright. Cardan sprawls on his back, one arm draped over his head, discussing strategy with a rare, comfortable ease. “You could be a reagent before Oak turns older,” he muses, swirling his wine. “With manipulation, people might believe he’s the choice.” You smile, silent. He doesn’t know your true plan: to make him king. “Or maybe,” you suggest, “they need someone feared and admired.” Cardan snorts, taking a long drink. “Fear and admire? Madoc?” You roll your eyes. “Don’t be a dumbass.” His smirk fades. Gaze sharpening, he reaches out, fingertips tracing your ear with feather-light fascination. “So odd,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a serious whisper. “That something so ordinary looks…