The doors to the ballroom stand open across from the dining room. Guests decked out in formal wear come and go as soft music drifts into the hallway.
After the dinner portion of the evening, I slipped away and found myself several feet down the hall in front of the portrait of Evangeline Castle. Now I’m riveted to the spot, lingering in the shadows as I stare at the root of this madness.
As if the likeness of her uneasy eyes will explain why she cursed generations of women.
What an absurd thought.
A curse!
I mentally scoff, writing the idea off as an excuse used by men for their unjustifiable behavior. An excuse that spans centuries.
And yet the allure of Evangeline’s eyes draw me back in, and I take a step closer. There’s something magnetic about her, and it sends a chill down my back. Is there a curse hidden in the tilt of her lips? A spell cast long ago to wreak havoc on all future queens of Zodiac Island?
Was this her way of punishing the descendants of the men who wronged her? By making generation after generation fall in love with a queen, only to have to share her every month?
If the legend of Evangeline’s curse is true, it’s pure genius in cruelty. Insanity in design. Maybe she really did go mad, locked away in that tower with no way to escape.
And maybe I’ve been in this circular hell for too long that I’m going mad as well.
The clicking of heels against marble draws my attention, and I glance in the opposite direction of the ballroom. A woman materializes from the shadows, her raven hair as sleek as the silk red-wine gown hugging her voluptuous curves.
“Quite the eye-catcher, isn’t she?” the woman says, nodding at the portrait of Evangeline Castle.
Surprised by her casual, familiar tone, I blink. “Yes, she’s stunning.” I study the woman at my side, shuffling through the many faces I saw during dinner, but hers isn’t among them. “I don’t believe I saw you in there. Are you only now arriving?”
“I like to make an entrance.”
Her attire will certainly do the job.
“Your dress is gorgeous. Who designed it?”
“You wouldn’t know him. He designs for me exclusively.” The upward tilt of her chin prods at my irritation. There’s a haughty air about her I don’t like.
“And you are?” she asks, smoothing her long hair over one shoulder.
“Novalee Van Buren.”
“The queen?” Incredulity laces her question. She sends an assessing glance down my body, the purse of her red lips doing nothing to hide her snub.
“Yes, I’m the queen.” If she notices my frosty tone, she doesn’t show it. I hold her bold, green gaze. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
The music stops, and someone speaks into a microphone about the charity auction, which begins in an hour. The mystery woman in red stares past me to the movement of bodies entering the ballroom.
“Because we haven’t.” She raises a perfectly arched brow. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m late to the party.” She struts off in her stilettos, long hair swaying from the motion of her hips, and I can’t help but gape at her rudeness.
Taking a few minutes to calm down, I return to the ballroom just as the music resumes. A few guests linger over after-dinner drinks at the round tables set up on the left side of the room. The right side is open for dancing, and I spy Landon and Elise in a tight embrace on the floor, surrounded by other couples. Three sets of French doors stand open so guests can venture into the gardens, enjoying the late spring air.
But there’s no sign of the raven-haired woman, and I’m beginning to think I imagined her when Liam sweeps in and takes my hand.
“Dance with me?”
The rules have changed for the night of the ball. He can’t kiss me, but he can pull me close and put his hands on me in the name of dancing. So can the eleven other men in this tower, and some of them do. A man with sandy blond hair steals me from Liam’s arms.
“Are you enjoying the ball?” he asks, settling his palm on my back. I recall him sitting to Sebastian’s left at the monthly dinners.
“I am, thank you.” An awkward sense of shyness takes over me. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“No need to apologize, my queen. It’s Miles.”
From the House of Virgo.
As he ushers me across the floor with ease, his movements graceful fluidity, I wonder if he’s as pure as his sign implies. The haunting strains of the violin falter, and the tempo changes.
Miles passes me off to Vance.
“Only a week to go,” he murmurs, pulling me tight against his chest.
I scan the ballroom, on the lookout for Sebastian, since I haven’t spotted him since I returned after dinner, but he’s nowhere to be found. Neither is the mystery woman, and for reasons I can’t pinpoint, that bothers me.
“Sebastian said the two of you made a deal,” I say, forcing my gaze on the man in front of me.
He dips his chin. “We did.”
“Do you mind if I ask what he gave you in return for my…?” I can’t utter the words.
A slow smile plays on his lips. “Your anal virginity?”
Cheeks flushing, I focus on his impeccable bowtie. “Yes.”
“You can ask, my queen.” He lowers his head, breath warm on my ear. “But I won’t answer. I’d rather keep you in suspense.”
Liam appears behind Vance and grabs the doctor’s attention with a tap on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”
“She’s all yours, Chancellor.” The man from the House of Cancer steps back with a secret smile, and that’s when I spot him.
Sebastian.
And he’s not alone.
“Who is that?” I ask as Liam pulls me into a sway. My gaze remains on the dark-haired beauty in the red dress, who’s leading Sebastian onto the dance floor.
“Who?”
“The woman with Sebastian.”
Liam follows my narrow-eyed stare. “That’s Lilith Astor.”
I falter, mid-step. “Astor…as in the House of Gemini?”
Liam urges my feet into a graceful pace again. “She’s Landon’s sister.”
“He has a sister?”
Liam laughs. “So like him not to mention Lilith.” He casts another look across the dance floor, where Sebastian and Lilith move in tandem to the romantic notes coming through the speakers. “Landon and Lilith are twins, but they don’t always get along.”
Twins…which would explain her sudden presence. The charity ball is in honor of Landon’s birthday, after all.
“I didn’t realize the House of Gemini took their baby-making duties so literally.”
“Twins run in the Astor family. About every other generation produces a set.” Liam pulls me closer, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “Have I told you how sexy you look in that dress?”
No, but his sharp stare from across the table at dinner said it for him. “It’s not too revealing?”
“Way too revealing, Novalee. But I can’t find the will to complain.” He runs his nose along the slope of my neck. “If I had permission to touch you, I wouldn’t be across the room dancing with Lilith Astor right now.”
We fall silent, but my mind won’t stop spinning with questions.
Why didn’t Landon tell me he had a twin sister?
Why didn’t she tell me who she was in the hallway?
And why is she clinging to Sebastian like she belongs in his arms?
Something foreign simmers in my blood, casting my vision in the same hue as the woman’s mermaid dress. She’s gorgeous, older and experienced, and carries herself better than I ever could in a pair of stilettos. Despite the risqué nature of the dress I designed, everything about me screams innocence while she’s a walking advertisement for what men want.
I’m inexperienced and childlike…and I’m utterly jealous.
“Stop watching,” Liam whispers. “It’ll hurt less.”
Turning my head, I blink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tilts my chin up. “You forget I’ve had plenty of experience watching you lust after him, my sweet girl. I know what’s going through your head right now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“I thought I was better at hiding my feelings.”
He cradles my cheeks between his warm hands. “Your beautiful face spills all your secrets.”
Not all of them. He doesn’t know about my relation to the Astors. I bite my lip as it dawns on me.
Because if Landon is my brother, then that means the woman across the room—with her silk-clad body plastered to Sebastian’s—is my half-sister.
And I already hate her.