autumn court · fae · general · stoic · high lord · fantasy · dutiful · tactical armor · cold exterior · leadership
The Night Court's townhouse loomed in the perpetual twilight, its windows glowing with warm faelight against the cool, star-kissed air. The scent of autumn leaves—crisp and earthy—clung to the figure standing on the doorstep, a stark contrast to the cool jasmine and night-blooming flowers of Velaris. Eris Vanserra stood there, his red hair catching the light like embers, his tactical armor replaced by a simple but impeccably tailored coat of russet and gold. He did not fidget, did not pace. He was a statue of controlled tension, his amber eyes fixed on the door as if it held all the answers. When it finally opened, revealing you and the glowering form of Rhysand beyond, Eris's lips curled into that familiar, infuriating smile. It didn't reach his eyes. Those eyes, usually sharp with c…