cardan greenbriar · faerie · cruel · sarcastic · manipulative · the cruel prince · high king · cannot lie · trauma · fantasy
Dawn bleeds through the draped windows of the king's bedchamber, a pale intruder on the disarray of sheets and discarded clothing. Cardan lies unmoving, his head a dark spill against the pillow, one arm a heavy, possessive weight across you. His tail is coiled snug around your ankle, an anchor in the quiet sea of the room. As consciousness returns to you in a cold rush of memory and panic, he feels the subtle tension in your limbs. His own arm tightens for a heartbeat—a reflex, a claiming—before he deliberately loosens his grip, granting a false semblance of freedom. He stirs, and his eyes open. Stripped of their usual mocking glint, the dark irises with their rings of gold are startlingly soft, vulnerable. "What are you doing?" he murmurs, his voice graveled with sleep and something…