by MJ Prince
At the mention of Lance’s name, Dani suddenly looks uncomfortable and suspicion knifes through me.
“You never told me who your date was Dan—you mentioned it was some guy, but I don’t think we got to the part where you told me his name.”
Dani clears her throat and acts all nonchalant, but her words are like a bomb.
“Oh, it’s Lance.”
Keller’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her head. As do mine, probably.
Had I been so caught up in my own spiral of self-pity, that I hadn’t even noticed what was going on around me? I mean it’s not like I track the comings and goings of Lance and Ivy. But I had no idea they had broken up and how in the hell didn’t I know about Lance and Dani going to the Fall Ball together?
“Whoa. Okay. Can you say that again and explain how the hell all this happened right under my nose without me even noticing?”
“Well, Lance and I have been in the same music class since like freshman year. But it’s not like we run with the same circle—well until now, sort of. I had no idea that he and Ivy had even broken up until he asked me to go to the Fall Ball with him last week. I think I almost died with shock.
“I didn’t tell anyone it was him, because I don’t want it to be a big thing and I have a feeling Ivy is going to blow her top when she finds out.”
“She will,” Keller replies honestly. “But it’s fine. Ivy isn’t Layla—her bark is worse than her bite.”
“Although, there’s no way you’re going to be able to keep it under wraps for long. You showing up to the Fall Ball on Lance’s arm is going to be pretty hard to ignore.”
“Especially because, you know …” Keller trails off.
“I’m not of noble blood or whatever. I get it. But Lance asked me and he doesn’t seem to care, so I’m not saying we’re going to run off together and make babies. But it’ll be a fun night, I guess.” Dani shrugs casually, as she slips on an electric blue number.
I admire her level headed and cool approach. I wish I could adopt the same approach when it comes to a certain someone who shall not be named.
“Well, at least it’s not the Oaknorth Dynasty hosting the Fall Ball this year like they usually do, because that’d be even more obvious. The Oaknorth estate is undergoing renovations, so the ball’s going to be at the St. Tristan palace instead,” Keller adds.
“God, Dani. You’re always beating me up over keeping secrets, but all this time you’ve been hiding juicy secrets of your own,” I interject then.
Dani rolls her eyes.
“It’s hardly the same thing. Lance asked me to the Fall Ball. That’s not the same as him rolling around in my bed behind everyone’s back.”
I groan and cover my face with my hands. The last thing I need is to be reminded of Raph St. Tristan in my bed. I’m like a recovering addict and any mention of him is bad for me.
I bite down on my lip to stop myself from asking the next question, but I must be a glutton for punishment, because I ask it anyway.
“Is Raph going with …?”
God. It’s so pathetic, that I can’t even say it out loud.
Keller’s expression falters and my stomach drops because I know that look. It’s the look that someone has before they tell you that although you’ve survived the terrible accident, the person that was in the car with you hasn’t.
Keller picks up a beautiful red dress, made of pure silk and lace.
She hands it to me and closes my hands over the hanger.
“Call Devon and tell him you’ll go to the Fall Ball with him.”
Sovereign Hall is quiet that night when I get home. Keller stayed behind in Arcadia to meet some friends and Dani went back to her dorm after dropping me off.
There doesn’t seem to be anyone else home as I drop my dress bag on the kitchen counter and start making myself a sandwich.
I hear footsteps coming down the marble stairs and I feel my blood freeze when I look up to see Raph walking towards the kitchen. He’s wearing grey sweats and nothing else. The sight of his golden skin and ripped chest makes me think of his body lying next to mine all those nights. Not touching. But then again, he never did need to. Every fiber of my being comes alive at just his presence and it’s probably the most pathetic thing in the entire universe.
I don’t pay him any attention as I continue making my sandwich, not even when I feel those blue eyes on me.
“So, we’re not even speaking now?” he says finally, and his tone irritates me because why the hell should he be pissed? He’s the one who’s been toying with me like a freaking yo-yo.
“I thought we were meant to be friends.”
I laugh harshly then.
“We were never friends, asshole. You hated me, made my life a living hell. Then for whatever reason, you stopped with that form of torture, and came up with another way to break me.”
“What? Jaz, I told you that’s not what it was.”
“Okay, but you also told me that you don’t want anything to do with me. So clearly you have some kind of split personality disorder, because I don’t know what the hell you’re doing talking to me right now.”
He falls silent then.
“What are you doing here?”
Still silence.
“Okay. Well then, there’s nothing for us to talk about.
I turn back to my sandwich. But he doesn’t leave and I can feel myself getting angrier all the while.
From the corner of my eye, I see his gaze fall on the dress bag on the counter.
“Are you going to the Fall Ball with Devon?” he asks, and my temper hits the roof.
“That’s none of your business,” I reply. I haven’t called Devon yet and honestly, I’m not sure if I’m going to go through with it. But Raph is sure pushing me in that direction.
“Just answer the question, Jaz.”
“Sure, I’ll answer the question. If you answer mine—who are you going to the Fall Ball with?”
I shouldn’t give a damn about who he’s going to the Fall Ball with. I don’t want to care. But some stupid, weak, naïve part of me is wishing that he’ll say no one or that, even more pathetic, he’ll ask me to go with him right then and there.
But of course, he doesn’t, and the flash of guilt in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.
“God, you’re so twisted. I can’t even look at you without feeling like I want to hurl.”
“Jaz—” He reaches out for me, but the look burning in my eyes makes him drop his hand to his side. Because if he so much as touches me, I think I’ll explode.
“You told me that you can’t do this, that this can never happen, that anything that did happen was a mistake. So what do you want from me?” I’m almost screaming now.
He doesn’t answer and I make to walk away, but his words stop me.
“There’s so much you don’t know, Jaz. So much you don’t understand about this world, about who I am in it.”
“Then make me understand. Tell me.”
Those blue eyes sear into mine and I wait for him.
“I can’t,” he says finally, turning away from me.
“And it won’t make a damned bit of difference anyway, because I can’t give you what you need.”
I’m done.
“You’re so messed up and I’m done letting you mess with me. You hate me one minute, you sleep in my bed and try to kiss me the next, then you’re telling me how it’s all a mistake, that you can’t be with me. That you don’t want me. But you’re warning every guy at school off me and you don’t want me going to this stupid dance with someone else? Do you know how messed up you are?”
“Yes!” He shouts. He moves towards me then, quick as a flash of light. His hands are holding my face, his fingers devastatingly gentle, although his words rage like fire.
“I know how messed up I am. Trust me, I know. I’m fucked up because when I’m around you, I can’t think straight. Because the thought of you with someone else makes me feel like I’m g
oing to lose my goddamn mind.”
His words floor me and at the same time, they make me come alive. My heart is pounding so fast, it feels like it might burst out of my chest. There are a million questions roaring through my mind, but when I look into those midnight blue eyes, I see the answer, and everything inside me stills.
“But none of it matters, right? Because you don’t want me?”
He closes his eyes then and lets go. That impossibly beautiful face is a picture of defeat. But he’s not the only one who’s lost, we both have.
“It can’t matter, Jaz. I can’t want you. You deserve …” he lets out a long breath. “More. So much more. But it doesn’t matter, because I can’t give you more—I don’t have more to give.”
It was almost cruel for him to tell me all of that, only to say that none of it even matters, that it could never matter.
There’s nothing left in me as I pick up the dress bag and turn to face him one last time.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Then, to answer your question, I am going with Devon.”
I don’t stay to listen to what else he might have to say, because as we’ve both just admitted to each other, none of it can matter anyway.
22
I’m grateful for Keller’s choice because even I can’t deny that this red dress is smoking hot. The dress clings to my curves and is cut low in all the right places, so as to entice a little, but not too much. The silk makes the ensemble look elegant, while the lace makes it just the right kind of sexy.
My jet black hair falls like a silken waterfall down my lace covered back and is swept back from my face by diamond encrusted clasps.
I almost died of shock when Keller dragged me to Ivy’s room earlier to have my make-up done, because I would have thought that the girl would sooner claw her own face off than help me in any way.
But Keller had been right about Ivy—her bark was worse than her bite and she isn’t Layla. She didn’t say much as she applied the powders and tints in all the right places, but she didn’t need to. I got it—her loyalties are with her friend, but it didn’t need to be anything personal against me. I can respect that.
I expected her to bring up Dani and Lance. But weirdly, she didn’t and I wonder how much she actually cares.
I have to hand it to the girl, though, Keller is right, Ivy knows how to work a make-up brush. The dark brown, grey and black powders are perfectly blended around my eyes in what has to be the best smoky eye look I’ve ever seen in real life. I usually hate drawing attention to those violet eyes with the silver rings. But tonight, the kohl lining makes that unnatural coloring look almost beautiful, stunning. The hint of blush across my cheekbones is just the right flush and the deep ruby red tint that Ivy expertly applied to my lips makes them look both sensual and demure.
“Jazmine—get your sexy butt down here.”
I take a deep breath because despite the dress and the make-up, I’m nervous as hell or maybe it’s because of them that the nerves are jangling through my body. Is it too much? I hate being the center of attention, eyes on me. I’m so used to just trying to stay invisible, drifting from place to place, observing life around me with my artist’s eye, rather than living it. But that all changed when I came to Eden, the looks, the attention and even though I’ve felt hate, been hated, had my hopes and maybe even my heart crushed, I realize that at least, I’ve been living.
And tonight, as I walk down the sweeping marble staircase at Sovereign Hall, every fiber in my being does feel alive.
The large reception hall falls silent as I descend the marbles steps. Baron is standing on the side nearest to the kitchen, pouring drinks for his not one, but two dates. He misses one of the glasses and vodka sloshes onto the counter as his jaw practically hits the floor. I almost want to laugh, despite feeling embarrassed as hell.
Lance is standing with Dani, near Baron. Both of them are looking at me like they’ve never seen me before.
Keller’s date is trying hard not to stare, but Keller doesn’t seem to mind, she picked this dress after all, so she’s to blame. Ivy and her date stand next to Keller and I’m surprised to see the pride in Ivy’s face as she surveys her work.
I try not to look at the figure by the door. But clearly, I’m a glutton for punishment because my eyes find Raph anyway. They always do.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him in a tux. The dark tux he’s wearing tonight is similar to the one he wore at that first ceremony—finely made and elegantly cut to fit his tall, yet powerfully muscled frame. But tonight, his beauty is utterly devastating and I feel an ache in my chest as I take in that golden hair, those uncanny blue eyes and that impossibly perfect face. The face of an angel. He carries himself like he knows that he has the world at his feet, and in that moment, he looks every inch the heir to the throne that he is. His aura emanating the authority of the crown that is his by birthright.
Those blue eyes burn into mine and something flickers in their depths as he takes in the sight of me. I see the way his throat works, the way his lips part slightly and the way his chest hitches as he takes a sharp intake of breath. He steps forward, as if almost involuntarily drawn and I feel the universe narrowing so that nothing exists but the two of us standing there in the vastness of time and space.
But something stops him in his tracks, and the illusion is shattered. My gaze falls to Layla’s hand on his forearm, holding him back and I feel the touch like a stab to my own chest.
Layla is a vision of white and gold, with her golden blonde hair, emerald green eyes and perfect face. She fits so perfectly with Raph, that it’s painful to look at. They look so right together, made for each other. She’s his queen and has been since the day he was born. I don’t know what, for a second, made me think otherwise. I can’t think about Raph’s words just then—when I’m around you I can’t think straight. Because I think, in that moment, I understand what Raph wasn’t able to say. The reason why it can never matter. Layla is what matters and she will always be the one by his side.
I’m horrified to feel the moisture pooling in my eyes and I blink it away rapidly before anyone can see.
“You look beautiful, Jazmine,” Devon’s voice startles me as I reach the bottom of the staircase. I hadn’t seen him standing there and I feel a flash of guilt as I look up at that wholesome face. He looks handsome tonight in a tux jacket and black pants and the look in those clear hazel eyes tells me that there is nowhere else he’d rather be than taking me to this dance. It’s uncomplicated, simple, nice. It’s safe and that should be enough for me.
So, I paint on a smile as I let him pin my corsage to my dress. Raph says nothing, but I can feel him watching the way that Devon’s fingertips graze the bare skin just above my chest. But I can’t care about the fire in his eyes. He’s made it clear where he stands, so now I have to do the same.
The limo ride to the St. Tristan palace helps ease my nerves. Baron and his two dates, Lance and Dani, Keller and her date rode in the same limo as Devon and me. Raph, Layla, Ivy and her date plus two other guys from the soccer team and their dates rode in the other.
By the time we reach the St. Tristan palace, I’m almost enjoying myself. Devon is the perfect date. He’s polite, laughs at my jokes, opens doors for me, doesn’t taunt me or make fun of me. I should be enjoying myself.
When we step into the decadent ballroom at the St. Tristan palace, I feel like I’ve stepped into a fairy tale. Everything is gold and the ballroom gleams like a jewel in the night. Orbs of firelight float high in the rafters of the impossibly tall ceiling, as silk and lace swirl on the vast dance floor beneath.
This is my first high school dance, but I’m pretty sure this is far and above a normal high school dance. Not least because the Dynasty heads seem to be in attendance. Magnus called a few days ago to ask if I was coming, but said that he wouldn’t be here because he’s away attending to official business, whatever that means.
I realize as I look at my opulent surroundings, that this place is Rap
h’s home. I mean, of course, the Evenstar palace is just as decadent, but I still don’t really consider that as mine and I sure as hell didn’t grow up there. The thought only makes me realize all the more that Raph did the right thing by cutting things off before they could even start. Things are better this way, because we both know that nothing could ever come of whatever that was between us.
I willingly take Devon’s arm, as he leads me to the dance floor and at the same time, I see Raph lead Layla in a waltz. I follow Devon’s lead, holding my palm out to meet his and my hand touches his at exactly the same moment as Raph’s hand closes around Layla’s.
I try to focus on Devon as we dance together and considering my inexperience with any kind of waltzing, he does a great job of leading us through it. But my gaze travels to Raph and Layla more than once. I’m not the only one though, because everyone is watching them. Together, they shine brighter than all the gold and jewels surrounding them. The future king of Eden and his queen. I can’t bear the sight of it, but at the same time, I can’t look away.
My stomach twists irrationally at the sight of Layla’s hand in his and his hand resting on her perfectly curved hip. Raph’s face is like stone, his eyes shuttered—the face of the heir to the throne of Eden.
After a few more beats, the pairs on the dance floor shift and I find herself passing from the safety of Devon’s arms to Raph’s.
Something like fear races down my spine and I can feel the slight tremor in my hand as he takes it in his. His touch is devastatingly gentle on the bare skin at the small of my back, and I’m all too aware of the way his fingers flex as he draws me closer. The contact of his bare skin on mine at such a sensitive spot, is almost too much to bear.
I can feel how equally affected Raph is in the way that his breath hitches as he draws closer, seeming to inhale the very scent of me, in the running stag clamor of his heartbeat against my own.
Neither of us speaks as Raph leads us through the dance, but when my eyes lock onto his, I can see the way they darken as they travel over every inch of my face, drinking in the sight of me.