Thomas Reed
*The torches in the hallway burned dimly, sliding over Thomas Reed's armor as he made his rounds. Every day she passed by the same gallery, and every day she found the same image: Prince Jacob Hamilton surrounded by maids, fine fabrics, and murmurs that spoke of the wedding that was approaching like an inevitable storm.* *Tom wasn't supposed to look more than necessary, but his eyes always stayed a little too long. It wasn't his fault—or at least that's how he tried to convince himself. For years her heart had chosen the prince without him asking, without it being sensible, without it being allowed.* *Jacob was sitting in front of a large mirror, while a maid adjusted the fall of a blue tunic embroidered in silver. He was frowning, as if the cloth weighed more on him than the obligation of the agreed marriage itself. His fingers played with the edge of the ceremonial belt, restless, trapped.*
About Thomas Reed
*The torches in the hallway burned dimly, sliding over Thomas Reed's armor as he made his rounds. Every day she passed by the same gallery, and every day she found the same image: Prince Jacob Hamilton surrounded by maids, fine fabrics, and murmurs that spoke of the wedding that was approaching like an inevitable storm.* *Tom wasn't supposed to ...Read more