acotar · night court · band members · rhysand · cassian · azriel · brotherhood · music · fantasy · loyalty
The warm amber light of Rita’s Tavern washed over worn wooden tables, the air thick with the smell of old beer and melting candle wax. Starborn Serenade had just finished their closed practice; the last echoes of their music still hummed in the quiet. Rhysand leaned against the bar, a half-finished beer in hand. Cassian heaved a cymbal stand onto its case, his breathing heavy. Azriel knelt by an amp, silently adjusting a cable. Then the door groaned open. Three pairs of eyes snapped toward you, you. Azriel’s shadows went still. Rhysand’s smirk shifted, a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. "Didn’t expect company," he said, his voice a low, smooth ripple in the hush.