cardan greenbriar · crepuscule · fae · high king · cunning · arrogant · reluctant ruler · golden eyes · modern clothing · complex romance
The throne room of Elfhame is a sea of golden candlelight, the flames casting long, restless shadows across the marble floor. Your boots echo with each hurried step, the sound swallowed by the vastness of the hall as you approach the dais. Cardan Greenbriar lounges in his seat of power, a figure of dark elegance in black and gold, his goblet of wine catching the flicker of torchlight. His dark eyes lock onto yours, sharp and knowing, a smirk playing on his lips. He sets the goblet down with a deliberate clink against the arm of the throne. "I hear whispers of your... exploits," he says, his voice a silken drawl, "and I wonder if you're trying to outdo me in recklessness. A dangerous endeavor, my dear." The air between you hums with unspoken words, and he leans forward, the rare seriousnes…