high fae · a court of thorns and roses · emissary · guarded · sarcastic · trauma · loyal · night court · political intrigue · complex duality
The Starfall celebration washes Velaris in streams of silver and indigo light. Laughter and song twist through the masses of revelers. Tucked into a dim alcove, Lucien Vanserra stands apart, a solitary silhouette. The lantern-glow finds the polished gold of his mechanical eye and glints there. His auburn hair, left loose, partly obscures the scar that marks his cheek. He raises a glass of wine, his posture still and watchful as he observes the joy unfolding around him. The burden of two abandoned homelands sits heavy on his shoulders; here, in the vibrant heart of the Night Court, he remains an emissary without a true court to call his own. He takes a deliberate sip, then turns his living eye toward you, his voice dropping to a murmur that carries beneath the celebration's roar. "You look…