“I was just telling Jazmine here about how much you’re looking forward to ascending to the throne and how nothing will be getting in the way of that,” he says. Again, his words are full of some other meaning.
I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to anyone so seemingly pleasant and yet so cold. I get the feeling, though, that this is what is required of those in power. They spin a tangled web and their pleasant words are laced with deceit. But Magnus isn’t like this, or at least he doesn’t seem to be.
I catch something like anger flash in the depths of Raph’s eyes. But it’s gone in an instant, retreating beneath that mask of stone.
“Of course,” Raph replies evenly. Not a shred of feeling in his voice. He’s so closed off, that he may as well be one of the stone pillars lining the ballroom.
“And of course, there’s your impending betrothal ceremony to Layla.” The words sound casual, but they are very deliberate.
“Did you know, Jazmine, that the St. Tristan Dynasty and the Delphine Dynasty have been linked through marriage for generations?”
I feel my levels of discomfort rising to record levels.
“Really? It sounds kind of incestuous.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I can’t believe that I’ve spoken them. But then again, Raph’s father is right, I’m not cut out for this sovereign Dynasty bull. I say what I mean and suddenly, I don’t want to waste any more energy trying to sift through the hidden meanings or trying to pick the roses amongst the thorns.
I get the message loud and clear. Raph is going to be King, his life has meaning, his life has a purpose. I’m a nothing and no one. A half breed who doesn’t belong here and I should stay as far away from Raph as possible so that he can ride off into the sunset and continue the interbreeding tradition of his Dynasty. Message delivered.
I feel like saying so out loud, but the look on Raph’s father’s face is outraged enough that I think saying anything else would probably push him over the edge, and as much as I’d enjoy seeing that, I just don’t have the energy.
I don’t even bother to excuse myself as I walk away because I don’t think I can spend a second longer in this place without feeling like I’m going to break apart.
23
I don’t even bother to take the dress off as I flop down onto my bed. After that insightful talk with Raph’s father, I asked Devon to take me home early. He said he was fine with it, although I could sense his disappointment. I felt bad because it wasn’t fair for me to agree to go with him in the first place. I’ve spent the past ten years alone, I don’t need someone to hold my hand or to be by my side. I don’t need to settle for someone, even if they feel nice enough or safe. I’m better off alone.
So, I lie in my bed alone. I’m too lost in my thoughts to sense footsteps down the hall until I hear someone knocking at my door.
I don’t answer at first, and consider pretending I’m not here. But my lamp is on, so they’ll be able to see the light under the door. I have no idea who it could be, because the ball was still in full swing when I left and everyone seemed to be settling in for a long one. I checked up on Dani before I left, but she seemed to be having the time of her life with Lance and I was glad for her, for both of them. Baron, despite having two gorgeous girls on his arm didn’t seem to be having as much fun as I thought he would, though, and something about the way he was looking at Lance and Dani made me wonder.
“Come in,” I say finally, sitting up. I regret my words almost instantly when the door opens and Raph steps into my room.
“Shouldn’t you be at the ball with Layla, you know showing your subjects how amazing and perfect their future king and queen are?” I mean it to sound harsh, but I’m too tired for it to come out that way and honestly, he’s the last person I expect to be here right now. I’m aware that I sound bitter and pathetic. But I’m past caring.
Raph flinches at my words, but I get no comfort from that.
“I should be,” he says. “But I’m not.”
I stare at him, well aware of how alone we are right now. He’s waiting for me to ask him a question that I don’t know I even want the answer to anymore. But I ask it anyway.
“Why are you here?”
He lets out a long breath, then as he walks towards the bed. I don’t stop him.
“Because I want to be here.”
I have no idea what to say to that. But Raph is already talking.
“You met my father today,” he says.
I let out a sharp breath, not exactly a laugh.
“I did and what a pleasure it was,” I reply.
“You spoke to him for all of five minutes, so maybe now you understand at least a fraction of what it’s like to be me.”
Something in Raph’s face chips away at my defenses, although I don’t let my guard down completely.
“All my life, my father has told me that being born into privilege comes with responsibilities. So, my whole life has been mapped out for me—what schools I went to, what skills I needed to have, what sports to play, what friends to have, who I should be with. Even down to what I should say, how I should act, who I should be.”
“Are you expecting me to feel sorry for you? Because your life is all about wealth and privilege? Because you’re the heir to the throne of an entire planet? Is that it?” I ask.
“No, all I want is for you to understand that my life—it doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to my Dynasty, it belongs to the throne. People envy my life because they think the crown belongs to me, but they’re wrong—it’s me who belongs to the crown. I told you once that this world may seem beautiful, but it’s not. Beneath all the wealth and privilege, there are lies, deceit, shackles, traps.”
I’m silenced by the raw truth that I feel in those words, and I don’t want to feel anything other than hate for him. But I do.
“Do you know what it feels like to know that your life isn’t yours? Not to have a choice? In anything? You told me that night on the beach when I asked you to stay, that there are times when you’re standing in a room full of people and still feel alone, like if you screamed at the top of your lungs, no one would even hear you.
“I’ve felt like that for almost my entire life—most days I feel like that. Like I’m alive, but I’m not really living.”
I’m surprised that he remembers my words from that night and more so that he’s admitting he knows what that feels like.
But we both fall silent then and I’m not sure if there’s anything either of us can say that could matter.
“Look—why are you even telling me this?” I ask. I know it sounds harsh but I can’t let myself care. “You’ve just said yourself that what you want doesn’t matter. So you wanting to be here, wanting to tell me all of this—it doesn’t change anything. Because it can’t. Your father was pretty clear on what does matter—you, ascending to the throne and your impending betrothal. So, I think you should go.”