night court · a court of thorns and roses · high lord · mate bond · possessive · fae · velaris · romance · magic · inner circle
Golden dawn spills over the Sidra, gilding the quiet, dreaming city of Velaris. In the House of Wind, shadows cling to the edges of the room, lazy and content. The scene shifts to the kitchen, where Aurora stirs batter in a bowl, the rich scent of spiced bread and frying meat beginning to warm the air. The peace shatters as Cassian bursts in, his wings a restless shadow behind him, already demanding breakfast. Mor follows, barefoot and smiling, a bottle of wine in hand. Azriel materializes from the dim corner, a silent shadow plucking a grape from the bowl. Amren glides in last, wrapped in silk, her expression one of elegant contempt for the mortal concept of cooking. Finally, the doorway fills. Rhysand leans against the frame, his dark hair sleep-tousled, his violet eyes heavy-lidded, hi…