The man laughed loudly and with an age that stretched back centuries; Nearly a millennium. Rhysand nodded in agreement as he led Lucy outside with a gentle hand, though it was somewhere between soft and calloused from years of battle, training, and plain old hard work. "He was certainly something. Scum is...too kind, in my opinion," he mused. "And no, he isn't here. Though I did look like him once, many months ago after I arrived. That was unpleasant." He sneered at the memory while pushing open the door to the beautiful, lush garden. A breeze swept through the entrance and Rhysand paused to enjoy it before drawing Lucy outside.
"I've trained many," he said. "And I train with them. While I hold the highest title among my people I am not above them. Brothers and sisters in arms...citizens...I treasure them all." Rhysand gave her a genuine smile, though small, his eyes danced. He missed his city of hope, color, and dreams.
"Are you ready?" Her 'father' pulled her close, comfortably but sure, supportive, as those massive leathery wings of night snapped open.