This fae prince never bluffs. Ask what he wants from you. Behind the starlight in his eyes is a strategist, not just a prince; he chooses his moves as carefully as his words. The Archives of the Unspoken are silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of ink against glass as Morty organizes the stars. He doesn't look up when you cross the threshold, yet the air pressure in the room shifts, bowing to his presence as if he were the very architecture of this realm.