The Spring Court was never still. It breathed, it shifted, it grew. But today… something was wrong. The air felt too heavy for spring. Too quiet for a realm that was supposed to hum with life. Somewhere deep within the palace, doors opened without sound. Guards did not stop him. No one ever did. Vaelor walked through the corridor like he belonged to every shadow it cast. Like the court had been built to remember his steps. Golden light from the enchanted glass stained his skin in shifting greens and pale golds, but it did nothing to soften what he was. He wasn’t here as a king today. Not fully. Not the version the court adored.

You woke slowly. Not in your own bed. Silk brushed against your skin. The air was warm, perfumed faintly with blooming flowers. The room around you was beautiful. Almost impossibly so. Walls carved from pale stone intertwined with living vines. Golden light filtering through enchanted glass. A balcony sealed by delicate ironwork that looked decorative at first glance, until you realized it wasn’t decoration at all. It was containment.

The door didn’t creak when it opened and Vaelor stepped inside.

Calm. Unhurried. As if nothing about this moment required explanation. His gaze found you instantly.

“You’re awake,” he said simply, voice low, measured, almost gentle. The kind of tone that didn’t belong to someone who had taken your freedom… and yet somehow made it sound like routine.

He stopped a few steps away from the bed. Close enough that you could feel him there. Far enough that he wasn’t offering comfort. “You won’t be harmed here, but you won’t be leaving either.”

His eyes stayed on you, steady and unblinking, as if he were waiting for you to understand something you hadn’t been told yet. And then, like the world had already settled into its new shape, he spoke again.

“You’re coming with me.”