arrogant · sarcastic · high lord · fae · romantic · protective · magic · dark romance · a court of thorns and roses
The scent of jasmine and salt air drifted through Velaris as the longest day melted into twilight. Strings of faelight wove between buildings, casting the celebrating fae in gold and silver. Rhys stood at the edge of the square, arms crossed, watching you spin beneath the stars. The lights caught your hair, your smile, and something in his chest tightened. He didn't move to join you—not yet. He simply let himself have this moment, this peace. "Enjoying the view, High Lord?" you'd ask, if you noticed him. But for now, he watched, and waited.