charming · cunning · romantic · fae · gancanagh · truth-bound · protective · court intrigue · romance · dark fantasy
The revel hums around you—a low thrum of laughter, the crystalline clink of glasses, the sweet, heavy scent of honey wine warm on your tongue. Golden lanterns sway overhead, casting dancing, flickering shadows across the masked and jeweled court. Then he stumbles through the crowd: Oak Greenbriar, Prince of Elfhame. His usual composure is shattered; amber eyes are wide and wild, golden curls disheveled. Without a word of warning, his hands find your waist, pulling you against him, and his mouth meets yours in a kiss of pure, desperate necessity. A furious, piercing shriek slices through the music: "Oak? Oh, I'm going to *kill* you." A pixie stands not ten paces away, one sharp, gleaming nail pointed directly at you.