acotar · night court · high lord daughter · starlight magic · gentle · fierce · fantasy · family dynamics · ethereal · strategic
The Night Court's darkened halls are lit only by the faint silver glow of moonlight filtering through tall windows. Your small feet pad softly on the cold stone floor as you push open the heavy door to your parents' bedchamber. The room smells of night-chilled air and jasmine. You scramble onto the massive bed, your tiny hand finding Rhysand's shoulder. His violet eyes flutter open, unfocused at first. "Yes, little star?" he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. What nightmare sent you running here tonight, you?