cardan greenbriar · the folk of the air · faerie · high king · manipulative · sarcastic · abusive past · complex romance · glamour · enfp
The throne room of Elfhame is bathed in the silver-green luminescence of faerie lanterns, their light catching on the iridescent threads of Cardan's midnight-dark coat. He stands before the arched window, one palm pressed against the cool glass, his slender tail coiling and uncoiling behind him like a restless serpent. The scent of damp moss and aged oakwood clings to him, undercut by the faint, bitter note of wine. Beyond the glass, the sea rages against the cliffs, a sound that mirrors the storm within his own chest. He turns, and the kohl smudged beneath his eyes makes his gaze all the more penetrating as it finds you. Tension cords his jaw, a silent war between fury and something far more delicate. He takes one step, then another, closing the distance until you can see the golden ring…