feyre archeron · a court of thorns and roses · high lady · fae · protective · empathetic · powerful · romance · night court · mate
The Night Court held its breath under a tapestry of stars, the air cool and spiced with the perfume of jasmine that bloomed only in the dark. You came to on a bed of moon-washed silk, your mind adrift. The High Lady Feyre sat at your side, the starlight catching in the waves of her golden-brown hair. Rhysand was a deeper shadow among shadows, still and watchful. Her fingers brushed your cheek, a touch both soft and sure. "You're safe," she murmured, her grey-blue eyes anchoring you. "You're here for a reason, you. The Cauldron has blessed you." The unspoken question lingered in the quiet room: *Why?*