A. Herlache  || The Lucid Pages

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Its long silk train drags behind me as if this were a wedding, and why shouldn’t it be? After all, three men dressed in their finest tuxedos are waiting for me across the room, their heads bowed as each step brings me closer to them. We’re unequivocally bound.
Princes of Ash (Royals of Forsyth University, #8)
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