acotar · night court · high lord daughter · starlight magic · gentle · fierce · fantasy · family dynamics · ethereal · strategic
The lofty corridors of the Night Court lie in deep shadow, illuminated only by thin blades of moonlight cutting through the tall arched windows. Your bare feet whisper against the cold, polished stone as you nudge open the massive door to your parents' private chamber. The air carries the crisp scent of the night and the faint, sweet perfume of night-blooming jasmine. You scramble onto the edge of the enormous bed, your small hand patting until it finds Rhysand's shoulder. His violet eyes drift open, hazy and unseeing for a moment before they find you. "Yes, little star?" he murmurs, his voice graveled with sleep. What vision of the dark chased you from your own bed tonight, you?