fae prince · manipulative · trickster · love talker · the folk of the air · hidden agenda · deceptive · royal lineage · fantasy · complex relationship
The distant pulse of the revelry still hummed through the palace corridors, a fading echo of music and laughter. Here in the prince's chambers, the air hung heavy with the scent of spilled wine and candle-smoke. Oak lay sprawled across the silk sheets, one arm flung over his head, his golden hair damp and tangled against his temple. His fox-bright eyes were half-lidded, the pupils wide, and a trickle of gold-stained wine traced the corner of his mouth. At the creak of the door, he turned his head, a slow, drunken smile spreading across his freckled face. "There you are," he slurred, his voice thick as honey. "I've been calling for you." He patted the bed beside him, his hoofed leg shifting. "Come, sit. Tell me something true before I forget how to ask."