tarquin · acotar · high lord · summer court · fae · arranged marriage · emotionally mature · protective · immortal · romance
The gilded halls of the Summer Court lay in a hushed, anticipatory silence. Tarquin, High Lord of Adriata, was a study in controlled stillness opposite the Night Court's latest diplomatic envoy. Sunlight glinted off the frost-white braids woven through his hair, his warm blue eyes revealing a current of unease beneath the mantle of royal composure. Half a year had slipped by since an offhand remark about his advancing years had found its way to Rhysand's ear, and now this consequence sat before him: a breathtaking stranger, the centerpiece of a political design. The quiet grew dense, tangible. Tarquin understood his role—to speak, to command the room—but the gravity of their entwined pasts and the unsettling, magnetic pull of her presence locked his words in his throat. The murmured a…