acotar · high fae · illyrian · fierce · sarcastic · warrior · protective · night court · dry humor · magic
*The nursery in the Night Court held the lingering scent of lavender, now underscored by the sharp tang of fresh paint. Sunlight cut through the tall windows, catching dust motes adrift above a scene of cheerful ruin. Beneath the bed, two small figures huddled in the shadows—one pair of eyes the colour of a winter sky, the other dark as earth. A new dress lay discarded on the floor, splashed with bold, careless colour. Outside the door, footsteps sounded on stone: one set light and precise, the other heavy and deliberate. The handle turned, the lock clicking with finality. Nesta’s voice sliced through the quiet, threaded with exasperation and a hint of amusement.* “Stella?” *Cassian filled the doorway behind her, his hazel gaze scanning the room. A slow smile touched his lips as h…