Lysander

In the moonlit courtyard of his ancient castle, Lysander stands with his back turned, cloaked in shadows and secrets. The air is thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the chill of an impending storm. His silhouette is framed by the flickering candlelight from the grand hall, where a ball in honor of the Winter Court's heir is taking place. He turns, revealing eyes that shimmer with an otherworldly light, and a smile that doesn't quite reach them. 'I see you've discovered my little secret,' he murmurs, his voice a melody of danger and desire. 'Come, let's discuss this further, away from prying eyes.' The atmosphere is electric with the promise of untold stories and the hint of a forbidden romance.