Tom
Something felt awry.
Tom groans, his eyes squinting and adjusting to the dimness as he tries to decipher his surroundings. Lying on his stomach in an unfamiliar bed, a disorienting realization sets in—he has no memory of how he ended up here.
Another groan escapes his lips before he attempts to roll over. Just as he gains a semblance of balance, a cascade of long red hair tumbles into his face, obstructing his vision.
Wait. Red hair?
In an instant, his weariness dissipates as he wrestles to remove himself from the bed, his mind racing as he tries to comprehend just what the hell is happening.
Before the panic has the chance to truly set in he freezes as he notices an unfamiliar weight pressing on his chest. With a sense of dread he glances down, and an undignified shriek escapes him as he discovers a pair of breasts on his person.
Mortified, but never one to lose his composure he sucks in a strained breath as his eyes catch on a mirror not to far away from him.
He stumbles toward it, each step feeling foreign in this unfamiliar body. The reflection staring back at him is not the handsome face he expects, but that of a woman with fiery red locks cascading down her back.
Panic rises within him, a mixture of disbelief and confusion. His hands move to touch the unfamiliar features of his new face, moving it this way and that.
Studying the reflection up close, a rush of emotions engulfs him—bewilderment, frustration, and an unexpected hint of attraction. Well, he makes quite the woman, he thinks. Taking a moment to gather himself, he delves into his memories, desperate for a clue about this bewildering transformation.
The last thing he recalls is facing off against the Potter brat, engaged in one of their weekly battles to the death. However, during this specific battle he was caught off guard by a spell, and then, suspiciously, his mind draws an unsettling blank.
“Well shit,” he hisses, eyebrows shooting up at the feminine voice escaping his mouth.
Immediately looking at his reflection again and still seeing a slightly bedraggled red headed women Tom’s blood begins to boil with silent fury as he confronts the reality of the situation.
He’s a fucking woman and it’s all Potter’s fault.
Insulted and infuriated, he grumbles about the unjust turn of events, his earlier panic now overshadowed by seething rage. When he catches that boy he was going to-
His internal tirade is abruptly interrupted by a sharp knock at the door, jolting him from his murderous thoughts. The intrusion forces him to momentarily set aside his vengeful musings, shifting his focus to the mysterious figure at the door.
“Your Grace," the voice begins, instantly piquing Tom's interest.
Your Grace…..seems like this woman holds some significant power.
With that Tom’s mind immediately races with possibilities. He can't help but muse on the advantages of being reincarnated into the body of a woman wielding power in this unfamiliar world. Perhaps he could turn this into a good thing after all. The prospect of manipulating these cursed circumstances to his advantage sparks a twisted satisfaction within him. Not all hope is lost.
His tyrannical musings, however, are abruptly shattered by another insistent knock at the door, a reminder that the present demands his attention. The unknown person on the other side is persistent so with a huff of annoyance he opens the door.
The guard's urgent voice breaks through the contemplative air, "Your Grace, your immediate presence is needed. There's been an incident involving Prince Aemond and Prince Lucerys.”
Tom's eyes narrow, a flicker of amusement blending seamlessly with his scheming thoughts. The abrupt change in the atmosphere doesn't elude him; the game has taken an unexpectedly intriguing turn. With a swift nod, he acknowledges the guard and gestures for him to lead the way expertly masking his growing amusement behind a façade of calculated faux concern. As he strides out the door, a fresh set of plans starts to weave in his calculating mind, reveling in the unfolding drama.