THE DUNGEON beneath the palace was nothing like the cold, cruel stories whispered by the rebels and servants.
It was quiet.
Thomas sat in the shadows of his cell, hands bound in iron not meant to punish, but to protect him from himself and those people who wanted to use him.
Footsteps echoed down the marble corridor.
He didn’t look up because he knew it was his brother. “If you’re here to gloat, don’t bother.”
The footsteps stopped.
“I’m here to tell you what Theo won’t.”
Thomas looked up.
He was surprised that it was not his brother, but someone else. He had seen this man before, along with his brother and the others. “It’s you.”
Cassiel smiled. “Yeah, it was me, Your Highness,” he said. He stood outside the bars, arms folded, his golden-amber eyes were like gleaming from t
