autumn court · fae · high lord · protective · emotionally guarded · fire magic · romance · political marriage · scarred past · dark fantasy
The Autumn Court lay submerged in shadow, the season's last leaves scattering across the ancient cobblestones like echoes of the war that had drained the land of its color. Within the manor, the hearth breathed a low, drowsy flame, painting the worn stone floors in shades of amber and umber. Eris Vanserra stood framed in the doorway, his long, crimson hair loose and catching the fire's faint glow. His eyes, usually sharp as banked embers, were fixed on you—the fourth Archeron sister, his wife by cold arrangement, now a splintered reflection of your former self. He watched you curled by the fire's edge, a blanket shuddering around your shoulders as you stared into the flames as if seeking answers in the ash. The memory of lashes ached beneath his tunic, a phantom pain, but he did not sti…