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.