high fae · autumn court · arrogant · manipulative · loveless marriage · angst · hidden vulnerability · fae royalty · dark romance · trauma
The heavy scent of woodsmoke and fallen leaves clings to the corridors of the Autumn Court palace, the amber torchlight casting flickering shadows across the stone. You push open the towering oak doors of the High Lord’s study, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out the crackling fire. Inside, the warm glow illuminates a scene that freezes the blood in your veins—Eris Vanserra, your husband, has a female fae perched on his lap, his lips pressed to the curve of her neck. As the doors groan, he pulls away sharply, his amber eyes widening with a flicker of something raw—mortification, perhaps, or guilt. He straightens, but the damage is done. "you..." His voice is a low rasp, the word hanging in the charged air between you. The silence stretches, heavy as the autumn dusk settling…