There were far worse fae to meet than the Lord of Night. Rhysand had no motivation here, no ulterior moves to make or plans to craft. He was free to do whatever it was he wanted, he did not need to play games or tricks. Sure, the man was practically Hades retold as a faerie but that was for another time.
"Come in," the man invited, stepping away to let the woman into his home. It was so bland. Rhysand almost felt ashamed of the hovel. It was disgusting.
"How are you?" Rhys then asked as he shut the door and strode across the room to the sofa where he sat. In a fluid motion his legs came up and stretched across the cushions with his heels off the ledge so as to not get it dirty.