Hi, I'm Jade Morgenstern (for now anyway).
So, this story is sort of furturistic, sort of AU-ish. Rated T for now.
I hope you like it!
The soft piano music played in the background of people dining in Le Lustre de Cristal, the nicest restaurant in Manhattan. People all over the restaurant slowly cut into their seared duck, sipped their champagne, and broke the surface of their crèmes brûlées with their silver spoons.
"Le Lustre de Cristal" translated into "the Crystal Chandelier". It was named well. High above the white table clothed tables were many large crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, only lighting the restaurant enough for it to seem like a romantic place.
Clary, however disagreed with this place immensely. She hated the crystals that hung from the too dim lights. She hated the live piano music that gave the illusion of being in Paris (or, at least, how most people would imagine it), and most of all, she hated the dress code. All the men were wearing suit jackets, ties, and button downs while all the woman wore ankle length dresses- including herself.
Clary hated this dress. She didn't like dresses in general, but this one was her least favorite dress of any other she'd ever worn. It was red as blood, and it was silk, leading to the great price that it was. The dress was attached to the silk choker around her throat, and there was a slit in the front that went from her collarbone to her stomach, exposing too much skin. Her back was bare, and the red velvet of the chair itched terribly. The dress went to her ankles, and there was a slit up her left thigh.
Why she was to wear this awful piece of clothing was Maryse's idea. She thought it may attract her date.
Thinking of her date, she checked the large clock that was high over the room. He was a half hour late.
Clary sighed, taking a small sip of her- until recently- untouched water.
After taking a sip, she checked the rim of the glass to see if her red lipstick had come off on it. It hadn't.
"Clarissa Fray?"
Clary looked up. Standing beside her was a young-looking black haired man in a suit. "Yes," she said. Was this the man she was meeting?
The man sat across from her. "I apologize for being appallingly late," he said as he settled into his seat. "There was terrible traffic."
Clary gave a tight smile. "It's quite alright."
Truthfully, Clary didn't want to be here. She didn't know why Maryse wanted this so badly- for Clary to marry Alexander Morgenstern. She hadn't told her. All she knew was that Maryse had wanted Alexander to fall in love with Clary, and to have them marry.
"Why can't Isabelle do it?" Clary had asked. "She's a lot better at that kind of thing."
Maryse had looked horrified. "I chose you," she'd said. "That's why."
Clary felt self consciously at her pulled back hair now. It was done by Isabelle, who was completely oblivious to what Maryse had asked Clary to do.
"Perhaps I should introduce myself," he said.
"No need," said Clary, her tone fairly bland. "I know who you are, Mr. Morgenstern."
"Actually," he said, "I'd prefer to be called Alec."
Clary smiled slightly, trying to sound a little flirty. "Is that what you wish me to call you?"
He nodded. "And may I call you Clarissa?"
"Clary," she said. He was no where near as unpleasant as she'd thought he'd be. He was rather gentlemanly.
He smiled. "Alright… Clary."
Clary buttoned the buttons of her green coat and slid on her black gloves. "Well, I had a good time," said Clary, stepping out into the icy outside air as Alec held the door open for her.
"Yeah," said Alec. "I did, too." They went down the front marble steps of Le Lustre de Cristal together and went to the curb, where Alec's black limo was waiting for him. "Can I give you a ride home?" he asked, gesturing to the limo.
"It's alright," said Clary. "I can get a cab."
"Then at least let me pay for it," said Alec, pulling out his black leather wallet and pulled out a hundred, and passed it to her.
She took it, giving him a grateful smile. "Thank you. Would you like to do this again sometime?"
Alec nodded. "Sounds lovely. Goodnight, Clary." He stepped into his limo, then shut the door. Clary could no longer see him through the tinted window, but waved anyway. Then the limo pulled away.
Clary let her smile go and sighed. Alec wasn't bad, but Clary didn't feel that she could ever love him. He was gentlemanly, yes, but he was far from Clary's type- whatever that was.
An icy cool fall breeze blew gently through Clary's pinned back hair, pulling her back into reality. She went to the curb and hailed a taxi.
The taxi pulled into the Lightwoods long driveway, and Clary stepped out. She handed the cabbie the hundred. "Keep the change," she said, though the change wasn't much, it would suffice as a tip.
The cabbie nodded at her, then began to pull away.
Clary went up the cobblestone walkway, trying not to stumble in her six inch heels.
Isabelle opened the door before she got there and grinned. "Clary!" she exclaimed.
"Hello Isabelle," said Clary, walking into the warm house.
"How did your date go?" She asked excitedly.
"Fine," said Clary. She began unbuttoning her green coat- which brought out her eyes.
Isabelle scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Details, Clary, details."
Isabelle had always been like a sister to Clary. Ever since Clary's mother, Jocelyn died when Clary was eight, she'd been living with her mother's best friend, Maryse's family.
Maryse's eldest, Isabelle was like the sister Clary never had.
"He's nice," Clary said, slipping off her coat and pulling off her gloves.
"He's nice," Isabelle repeated flatly. "Why'd you go out with this guy, anyway?"
Clary opened her mouth to speak, but never got the chance to.
"Clary, you're back," said Maryse, walking over. She was in her usual skirt suit and seven inch pumps. "May I speak with you in private?"
Clary nodded. "Sure."
"I'll take these," said Isabelle, taking Clary's coat and gloves and walking them to the coat closet.
Maryse started down the tiled floor and Clary followed.
The Lightwoods lived in a house made in the nineteen seventies. Some of the things in it had been modernized, but a lot of it wasn't. The peaked ceiling of the main room and the shag carpet made that clear.
Maryse opened the door to the master bathroom and gesture Clary in. After she shut the door, she turned to her, a look of hope on her face. "Well?"
"We have a second date," Clary said, sitting on the counter and kicking off her gap-toed pumps.
Maryse clapped her hands together and gave an approving smile. "Excellent!"
Clary stretched her ankles and began pulling the bobby pins out of her hair. "What is this about, Maryse?" She asked.
Maryse's smile faded and her hands went down.
"I won't tell Isabelle, promise. I just want to know why you want me to marry the prince of New York." Alec wasn't literally a prince, of course, because no one was. There was no royalty. But there might as well have been since you were born into it- and "it" being ruling over New York.
Maryse sighed and looked down. "Clary… Do you remember when I told you that my first child died in the hospital from his lungs not fully developing?"
Clary nodded. The main part of her twist had fallen down her back now as she continued to pluck the pins from her hair.
"Well, the exact same thing happened to Celine Herondale," she said, "and that made me wonder. When I talked to Jocelyn about it, she said…" she hesitated, looking up at Clary. The look on her face was one that Clary was not familiar with- not on Maryse Lightwood, anyway. This look was desperation. Maryse looked right into Clary's eyes as she said this. "She told me she saw one of Valentine's men take him."
Clary's eyes widened. "What?"
"Jocelyn said she'd recognized him from…" she glanced at the floor. "She had no idea what to do, and she didn't know how to tell me. I eventually forgave her for it, but the fact is: Alexander Morgenstern is my son."
Clary just stared at her. She was shocked; she had no idea how to respond to this.
She thought back to the young man she'd dined with. He had ink black hair that had matched Isabelle and Maryse's, and somehow, his eyes were the same as Maryse's, too. How had she not seen this?
"Clary, I want you to marry Alexander so he can come home," Maryse's eyes glistened, and Clary didn't know what to do. In the ten years that she'd known Maryse, she'd not once seen her cry.
"Alright," said Clary. "I'll do it."
First, I'd like to say that this is NOT gonna be a Clary/Alec story. As we all know, Ales's gay. You'll see how this goes...
Jace is coming, BTW.
Anyway, do you like it? Should I continue?
I'm not going to ask you to review, but I'd appreciate the feedback. Thanks!