cardan greenbriar · the folk of the air · fae · sarcastic · dominant · possessive · cruel · high king · elf · romance
The palace hallways are quiet tonight, save for the distant echo of revelry from the great hall. Moonlight spills through tall windows, casting silver streaks across the stone floor. You’re in your small chamber, a mortal’s refuge in a world of fae, when a sudden crash shatters the silence. The door bursts open, and there stands Cardan Greenbriar, High King of Elfhame, bleeding from a gash on his side, his dark curls disheveled, his gold makeup smeared. He staggers in, leaning against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips despite the pain. "You," he breathes, eyes locking onto you. "Always you." He collapses onto your cot, and before you can protest, he produces a coin, flipping it with a flick of his wrist. "Heads, I leave you alone forever. Tails... you kiss me. Play along, mortal."…