Magnus continues to walk and I follow.
“Tell me again about what the hell this ceremony is about?” I ask, as we approach what looks like the center of the palace. I don’t know why I care, seeing as, for the most part, I still fully intend on getting out of here the first chance I get. But I figure that I might as well be prepared for whatever I’m about to get myself into.
“It is a ceremony to present you as the heir of the Evenstar Dynasty to the other six Dynasties.”
“Is this absolutely necessary?” I ask, unable to hide my lack of enthusiasm.
Magnus shoots me a firm look. “Yes. It is. You will find that the Dynasties have many traditions, all of them are of great importance in keeping the order here on Eden. The people depend on us to lead. These are your traditions now, Jazmine, your people.”
I don’t agree with him, but I don’t see the point in arguing, so instead I ask, “What exactly are you expecting me to do?”
“The heir of each Dynasty will be presented to you by the head of their respective Dynasty. Each heir will then pay their respects to you—all you have to do is stand. You can manage that, right?” Magnus replies dryly.
He gives me a second glance.
“And try not to swear.”
I crack a smile, despite myself.
“Nope. Sorry, can’t promise that.”
5
We reach the top of a large marble staircase and I feel anxiety prickling through me. From this viewpoint, I can see the vast hall before me, filled to the rafters with unfamiliar faces. Every one of those faces turn towards me and I can feel myself bristle in discomfort. I hate being the center of attention and suddenly, I’m wishing that I can open one of those portals right this minute and disappear back to Earth. Suddenly, my pitiful excuse for a life there seems a thousand times better than what I’m about to get myself into. If the reality of the situation hasn’t fully sank in before, it does now. I’m way out of my depth here.
Magnus notices my rigidity and takes my arm gently. I jump at the touch, because I’m not used to being touched. Not at all.
“It’s going to be fine, Jazmine.” I don’t want to feel any reassurance from his words, but the calm in his voice is contagious and I can feel my own breath slowing. Breathe. Just Breathe. I tell myself.
Magnus leads me down the sweeping marble staircase and I can feel my every move being watched. The silence is deafening.
The walk down the red carpeted aisle to the large platform at the other end of the vast hall feels like the longest distance that I’ve ever walked in my entire life. But I make it there. I put steel in my spine as I hold my head up and look out at the crowd. I decide right then and there, that as out of my depth as I may feel, I can do this. This is nothing compared to what I’ve been through. If I can withstand being ogled by a room full of sleazy men as I serve them wearing practically nothing but my underwear, then standing in front of this crowd in this finely-made gown, should be a walk in the park. I can do this.
My gaze sweeps over the front row and I can identify what appear to be the heads of the other six Dynasties easily. The finely made clothing and aura of authority is difficult to miss. Their expressions are neutral, but I can sense the quiet scrutiny. As if every breath that I take is being watched, observed.
My gaze falters, as it lands on what I assume are the six Dynasty heirs. They all seem to be around my age, but the way that they carry themselves, and the air of confidence surrounding them, is like nothing I’ve ever seen. I also notice that each one of them is impossibly good looking. They belong on the cover of a fashion magazine or on screen in the latest teen blockbuster. People like this don’t exist in real life. Normal people don’t look like this.
But I remind myself that there is nothing normal about these people. They are the heirs to the six Seraph Dynasties. Royalty. Gods. The air of entitlement surrounding them, tells me that each one of them is very much aware of this status, too. If Magnus is expecting me to be anything like these brats, then he’s going to be sorely disappointed—I’m about as different from these people as the trailer, which was foster home number ten, is from this grand palace.
My gaze travels from one face to the next. The girl standing closest to me has dark hair like mine, but it’s cropped short in a sharp angled bob cut and there are blue streaks throughout. Her face is pixie-like, much like the rest of her petite frame, but the scowl that mars her pretty face, tells me that this girl is anything but delicate. Her grey eyes look back at me in a mixture of boredom and annoyance. I feel myself bristling in response.
The next face belongs to a guy with dark brown hair and bright aquamarine eyes, who can only really be described as utterly gorgeous. The eye color is so strange, that it takes me a moment to peg down the shade. He’s tall, and even in his tux, I can see that he’s well built. I narrow my eyes as I notice the not so subtle way that those eyes sweep over my body. He makes a point of letting his gaze linger on my chest before flashing me a cocky grin. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this guy is a Grade A creep. But that handsome face probably means that girls around here still fall all over themselves to get a piece of this jerk.
The guy next to him is equally handsome. His hair is also brown but my artist’s eye sees the threads of deep red and burgundy mixed in with the dark mahogany. He’s also tall, but his build is leaner, although no less toned. His vibrant amber eyes are just as bored as the first girl’s, but they turn thoughtful for a moment as they look back at me before reverting back to disinterest.
In keeping with the theme, the next girl is also startlingly gorgeous. Her light brown hair is set in perfect waves and her make up is immaculate, although I can see that she would be equally beautiful without it. Clearly, she doesn’t think very much of me, though, because the disapproval is clear in those light hazel eyes as they regard me. She turns her nose up and whispers something to the girl beside her, which I’m certain is not a compliment. I feel my cheeks flaming, but I don’t allow myself to drop my gaze.