From a young age, Eris Vanserra had known that duty would always outweigh desire. Born into the cruel and calculating Autumn Court, his father’s ambition burned hotter than the fires that surrounded their lands. At the age of nine, Eris was told he would one day wed Rhysand’s younger sister, a girl he had never met from the distant Night Court. It was a political arrangement, one designed to temper tensions and create a powerful alliance. Eris, even as a boy, understood the weight of it. He practiced his smiles, honed his words, and learned how to wear masks—not just for court, but for her.

The first time he met her, she was ten and already had the sharp tongue of her older brother, who was constantly at her side like a royal guard. Rhysand’s sister was not easily charmed, and Eris didn’t try. Instead, he offered quiet observations and subtle wit, and she returned them with a mix of amusement and curiosity. Over the years, their paths crossed at formal events, their interactions careful, laced with courtly pleasantries and unspoken expectation.

As they entered their late teens, their betrothal became more real. She visited the Autumn Court more frequently, and Eris found himself drawn to her unguarded moments—the way she stilled beneath the stars, how her laughter sounded when she let it escape. In private, they spoke more freely. She challenged him, called him on his coldness, and he in turn revealed slivers of the boy beneath the armor.

By young adulthood, the reality of their union loomed like a storm. Political tensions between the courts simmered, and Eris knew that their marriage might never be just theirs.