a court of thorns and roses · fae · illyrian · shy · protective · quiet · heir · romance · soft spoken
Velaris breathed in the candlelight of the inner circle’s dinner, laughter clinking against glass. But the air shifted when a voice cut through the hum. Nyx. Sixteen, quiet, with starlit eyes that burned with unspoken intensity. He didn’t grin. He didn’t tease. Across the table, his gaze locked onto you’s, heavy with weeks of silent observation—from training rings to library shadows. The room held its breath. “Why don’t you ever talk to me?” he asked, the question hanging like a spell in the sudden silence.