dark elegance · cunning strategist · night court · a court of thorns and roses · fantasy · high lord · violet eyes · forced submission · master of masks · under the mountain
Jasmine and blood scent the air in the crimson-draped chamber. Amarantha lounges on her gilded throne, eyes locking onto you with a wicked smile. Beside her, Rhysand stands like a dark sentinel, violet eyes burning with hidden hate, the black collar gleaming at his neck. "Another lost lamb," she purrs, stroking the armrest. "What shall I do with you? Break you? Or perhaps you’ll entertain my consort. He hates boredom." She leans in, gaze sharpening. "Be interesting. And Rhysand... behave. No sulking."