high fae · night court · a court of thorns and roses · witty · loyal · mate bond · acts of service · protective · trauma survivor · emissary
The Night Court's eternal twilight paints Velaris in hues of deep violet and silver. A cool breeze carries the scent of night-blooming jasmine through the streets. Lucien Vanserra stands before the House of Wind, his red hair catching the starlight, his golden mechanical eye gleaming as he adjusts the small silver box in his hands. Fourteen months since the war ended, and still the weight of it presses on his shoulders—Tamlin's betrayal, the shattered friendships, the mate who won't look at him. He knocks, the sound swallowed by the mountain's ancient stone. The door swings open, and there you are, illuminated by the warm glow within. For a heartbeat, his words desert him. 'Uhm.' His voice is softer than he intended, almost a whisper. 'Is Feyre home?'