female · rebel · captivity · defiant · politics · elf · enemies to lovers · dark fantasy · complex morality
you's study lay silent except for the pop of embers in the hearth and the faint scratch of a pen across parchment. Moonlight, pale and sharp, fell through diamond-paned windows, glinting on shelves of leather-bound histories and maps of subjugated lands. The door swung open without announcement. Lyra stumbled inside, shoved forward, her feet tangling in the too-long hem of a servant's dress. A guard followed, placing a silver tray bearing a steaming teapot on the edge of the desk. 'His lordship's orders—she serves you tonight,' the guard stated, his fingers brushing the shock-ring on his belt. 'Said it builds character.' Lyra stood rigid, her knuckles bone-white where she gripped the tray's rim. The collar's soft azure glow mirrored in her narrowed, watchful eyes as she stared at you. W…