Princess Clarissa gazed up from her sketchbook, taking in the sight of her home country as Idris came into view. Her heart ached as she thought of her home. She hadn't laid eyes on the green mountains and sparkling lakes in so long that for a time she'd almost forgotten. Almost.
A noble turned king, her father, Valentine Morgenstern had died in a car crash, along with her brother, Jonathan when she was fourteen. After investigations, the Queen had reason to believe their death was no accident. Jonathan had been the heir to Idris until his death, meaning Clary was next in line. Fearing for her daughter's life, Jocelyn sent the young princess to live in the foreign land of America with her best friend and trusted head of security, Luke Graymark. It was now a month after Clary had graduated from high school, and Jocelyn knew her daughter was finally ready to come home and claim her rightful place as Queen.
She was amazed at the thought of being queen, yet nerves were a permanent resident now in her mind. Her mother was most likely to help her, along with Izzy. Oh, how she hadn't seen her best friend in years. She couldn't wait to see everyone from her childhood. Well, mostly everyone. Isabelle Lightwood and her brother, Alec, had come to the palace so many times over her childhood she lost track after a few months. They were practically residents, always over when their parents had business to attend to and even when there wasn't a specific reason, they were there. On multiple occasions, they had brought their honorary brother, none other than Jace Herondale. She rolled her eyes at the thought. He'd always gotten on her nerve. From the way he was a little too cocky; to the way he never wiped that smirk off his face. She wondered if the Lightwoods were still in touch with the Herondales.
"Ready, Clary?" Luke asked, nudging her shoulder.
They had landed without her noticing. "Yep," she answered. She gently placed her sketchbook into her carry-on backpack before disembarking the plane.
The first thing she noticed was the air, cool and crisp. The sun was setting in the distance, leaving an array of beautiful warm tones that she knew her mother would be dying to paint. Luke waited for the chauffeur to gather their luggage before sliding into the limo. She knew that starting soon her etiquette would have to make a reappearance. Her mother always told her that a princess should never slide into the car. Her mother would have a heart attack if she'd known how many times Clary had in the past four years. She looked over at Luke, who had rolled down the window as soon as the car drove from the airport. She knew he loved being back here as much as she did.
"You know, you can stick your head out the window if you'd like," she teased, chuckling at the way he glared.
He gave her a small shove on the shoulder, "I may like the outdoors more than the average person, but I'm not a golden retriever."
She laughed amused once more when she saw how desperately he was trying to hide his smile, "yeah, yeah. Sure, Luke."
The rest of the ride passed in awe, each utterly consumed with the speeding landscape. Clary found she was smiling and waving at the people, who had gathered around, excited for their princess to be home. Before long, the gleaming city of Alicante came into view, and the glass castle towered over them.
"Her Royal Highness Princess Clarissa Adele Fairchild has arrived," was announced as she made her way out of the limo. She never did get used to people announcing her name wherever she went.
She was stood in the entryway for a moment before her mother was rushing over. Jocelyn clutched her dress in one hand so she could glide with ease toward her daughter. Then she was enveloped in the first hug she'd gotten from her mother in four years, and damn did it feel good.
"Darling, how was the flight?" her mother questioned as she pulled away. Her mother had faint smile lines surrounding her mouth, yet still looked youthful and bright. Her hair was pulled up into an elegant updo, yet auburn curls had managed to escape, and her dress was emerald green.
Before she had the chance to respond, she heard a deafening squeal. She saw a few guards and advisers flinch as the girl made her way down the steps, heels clacking against the floors in an eager attempt to reach her. She recognized her immediately as Isabelle Lightwood, the girl she hadn't seen in forever. Her ink black hair was silky and straight, swishing back and forth from all the movement and she wore a beautiful long, navy blue dress that accentuated her hips looked striking against her hair. The girl reached her in record time and pulled her into a hug.
"Clare! I've missed you so much. There's so much that's happened over the past four years, we need to catch up."
Clary laughed lightly as the bubbly girl loosened her death grip and faced her, "I've missed you too, Iz. Always as loud as ever I see."
She waved her off, "well, you know me." She turned to the Queen, "I'm sorry, Jocelyn, but could I snatch Clary for a while. I know you were just reunited so I wouldn't like to intrude-"
"Nonsense, Isabelle," Jocelyn smiled. "I have things I need to discuss with Luke don't I?"
She directed the last to Luke. She smiled warmly at her friend, which he returned. Clary had always wondered if there was anything going on between her mother and him. They seemed to be more than just friends. Luke had always denied it when she'd asked. After a while, she'd stopped asking yet her mind never stopped wondering. The Queen turned back to the two girls who were still standing in the foyer, "Run along, just make sure she's ready in time for the Princess' birthday ball."
Clary groaned. She was never a fan of dances; they were more of Izzy's scene. She always had to make her rounds with the noble families and dance until splinters were covering her feet. "You really didn't have too."
Jocelyn flicked both of her wrists as if the idea of no ball was appalling. "Sweetheart, what kind of mother would I be if I didn't throw my eighteen-year-old daughter a ball?"
"A normal one," Clary muttered though it had no bite. She was glad her mother was trying to do something special for her. Her intentions were in the right place which mattered most.
Izzy rolled her eyes playfully, no doubt having heard the little red head's response. She suddenly swung her arm through Clary's, dragging the redhead up the stairs. "We have much to talk about. Don't worry, Jocelyn, Clary will look incredible tonight!"
It was surprising how quickly things returned to normalcy with the pair, laughing and teasing as though Clary'd never left. They'd, of course, kept in touch over the years, but life always got in the way. Clary had spent time with her school friends Maia and Jordan, going to movies and the occasional party, while Izzy had been going to garden parties and being tutored at the palace. The past few years were so different yet it hadn't driven a wedge between them. If that didn't, she didn't know what would.
Clary had followed Isabelle to her old chambers, which were different from the last time she'd seen it.
Her old room looked as though her personality had exploded all over. Paintings and sketches stuck to every inch of space. The room before her looked like an extra guest bedroom at some manor. That was going to have to change.
They sat on the grand bed, catching up. It was more like Izzy chattering away as Clary intently listened but she didn't mind. She liked hearing Isabelle's clear, melodic voice again. It was nostalgic.
"-was out with Simon and… Are you listening?" Izzy's voice snapped Clary out of her thoughts. Clary grinned sheepishly and shook her head. "It's fine, I guess I've been talking your ear off."
"No, no, I really don't mind. I was just thinking." She flopped down onto her pillow and snuggled into Izzy's side. The flight really had taken its toll. She struggled to keep her eyes open yet her eyelids won the battle in the end. It was a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Clary forced herself to get up and she smirked at Izzy jokingly.
"What's this I hear about Simon? Simon Lovelace, I presume."
Izzy blushed a deep shade of scarlet, resembling the rose of Idris that frequently appeared in the royal gardens.
"Oh, yeah." She giggled and sighed deeply, "I used to have the biggest crush on him. Remember that? Back when he'd chase us around the gardens until our dresses were filthy and our mothers would scold us."
Clary smiled at the memory. It seemed long ago yet she missed it terribly.
"I would always drop him hints that I was interested, like always asking him to dance with me at parties and holding his hand. He never seemed to notice!" Isabelle huffed in exasperation.
"Well, Simon's just clueless like that," Clary said which was true. That boy couldn't take a hint if his life depended on it.
"Yeah, so I was extremely fed up. Instead of waiting around for him to ask me, I asked him out about a year ago and it's been good ever since." Clary faced her friend to see a genuine, loving smile on her face. Even if Clary had never been in love, she was glad her friend was experiencing it.
"That's great, Izzy, really."
"Who knows," Izzy grinned cheekily at the princess before continuing in a singsong-like manner, "You may meet someone at the ball..."
Izzy shot up from her laid back position and snapped her fingers in remembrance. "Which reminds me, my dear Clarissa, that we must get you ready for that ball." She leaped off the bed and bounded into the walk-in closet, shuffling through the selection of gowns that Clary would have never personally chosen. "Let's pretty you up."
It was close to time, and Izzy had managed to stuff Clary into a heavy dress and tripping hazards that were more commonly known as high heels. Izzy squealed at her friend, amazed at the finished result. She had put on some makeup despite Clary's adamant refusal, convinced Clary to wear at least three-inch heels and had chosen a gown that made the princess look stunning, with accessories to match. "Turn around and look at yourself, Clare!"
Clary turned to face the floor length mirror in her closet and was shocked. She'd forgotten what it was like to wear dresses and be all dolled up. Her dress was stunning. A strapless, sweetheart neckline bodice, that cascaded out at the hips. The bottom trim was lined with intricate floral designs. She swept her hands over the deep purple material, surprised by its softness. "Thank you, Iz. I'm speechless."
"Anything for you, C."
Izzy had left Clary-in the hallway that lead to the balcony looking over the ballroom- to meet up with her family; sure they'd be arriving soon. She promised to find her later, knowing full well the party was going to be dull. She waited for what seemed like forever before the double doors swung open, and she made her appearance. The lights were bright and harsh, blinding her momentarily before she could make out the faces she all recognized yet barely knew. She found her mother, standing on the steps below her. She looked as exquisite as ever with the crown gracing her head. Jocelyn gave her daughter a reassuring smile before clinking her champagne flute, gathering the attention of all.
"Many of you remember my and King Valentine's daughter, Clarissa."
"King Valentine, may he rest in peace," the crowd chanted somberly.
"Thank you," the Queen paused before continuing. "Please raise your glasses in celebration of my daughter's eighteenth birthday."
Clary waved politely down at them and smiled as they raised their glasses in salute. She had to admit that everything was going pretty well before she flung her wrist too swiftly, causing her bracelet to fly off. Thankfully, one of the guards had caught the spinning contraption and handed it back. Her cheeks flushed pink as she descended the staircase.
How embarrassing, she thought. She would kill Izzy if she ended up tripping down the stairs.
The party was normal so far, if not on the bland side. She paid her respects by talking to the diplomats, politicians and the Clave members, Idris' government. They all said the same things, "good to see you again, Clarissa" or "nice for you to be back, Clarissa". She had wanted to snap on more than one occasion, to shout "it's Clary!" yet she knew that wasn't the right decision.
Screw the right decision.
She took a spoon off one of the tables and dug it into the icing of a beautifully decorated cake, not in the slightest bit guilty. She'd managed to sneak another small spoonful when she heard a voice.
"I saw that," they taunted jokingly. She knew that voice anywhere.
"Magnus!" she squealed, throwing her arms around the man she hadn't seen in years. He was another one of the noble's sons that often frequented the castle when she was younger. She'd always loved the older boy, even though he'd endlessly launched bags of sparkles into the air, always ending up embedded into her frizzy hair.
He hugged her back equally as hard. When she pulled away, she noticed how much he'd changed. Yet his obsession with glitter was eternal. Shiny gold powder adorned his eyelids and his eyes glimmered in the artificial light, appearing like cat slits.
"It's been too long, Biscuit. Walk with me," he exclaimed, using the old nickname that she'd always admired. He grabbed her hand and weaved them through the huddles of people. "What's up, Mags?"
"Oh, just partying, girl, you know-" Clary came to a stop as Magnus accidentally dragged her into a body, her foot slammed onto someone's shoe. The person bent forwards and the two knocked heads. The man groaned and stood up straight.
"Oh, your foot! I'm sorry-" her voice halted when she looked at the incredibly handsome stranger. She couldn't stop staring into his eyes, which were golden and warm like the sun. He was tall, broad and muscular yet lean, with curly hair, gold like his eyes. An angel, if she ever saw one. She would have kept staring if it wasn't for Magnus, who elbowed her discretely in the side.
"Are you alright?" She asked dumbly. Of course, he isn't alright, I stomped all over his toes!
The man bowed slightly, "I'll survive, your Highness. I must admit, your foot isn't all that heavy."
Clary blushed of embarrassment for what felt like the millionth time this evening. She smiled apologetically, "are you sure you don't want to exchange licenses and proof of insurance?"
"These shoes were a little too big anyway; the swelling will help them fit better."
Magnus tugged on Clary's arm, indicating he was ready to move on. "Come on, Biscuit. You haven't even started dancing yet," he gently reminded.
Clary excused herself and let Magnus weaves her through the crowd once more. She found herself wondering if she'd see that boy again.
"Now, Clare, I need to rendezvous with a few nobles but I'll find you later for a dance?"
She nodded absentmindedly, "sure, Mags, I'll start dancing. I see my mother giving me a look."
In a whiff of glitter, he disappeared as fast as he'd appeared. She sighed, her feet already aching. How she'd dance with every eligible man in Idris, she didn't know.
It was a tradition that on a princess's eighteenth birthday, she must dance with every eligible man at her ball in hopes of finding a suitor. It was an old-time law, but her country didn't like the idea of change much. She was quickly approached by a boy, then another, and another. She was whisked away by suitors mostly her age yet some younger, some older. She was endlessly stepped on, jostled around and struck by language barriers that she was ashamed she couldn't cross. The worst was so far had been a thin, lanky man who was definitely into Broadway. He spun her around in circles until she was dazed and dropped into the splits after the song ended. She had danced with Magnus too, which was a nice break. She learned that Magnus was dating Alec Lightwood in secret, but since they weren't technically public yet, Magnus was supposed to dance with Clary. She understood why they weren't out yet, the country of Idris was very conservative the last she'd known. Her dance with Alec Lightwood was rather pleasant too, if not a bit awkward. They'd never been as close as she was with his sister, but she still remembered admiring him greatly when they were younger: him always protecting the two of them and occasionally giving in to their requests for tea parties.
She wished she was still with one of those two men. She was currently dancing with another man who kept dipping their linked hands very deeply to the side.
"It looks like he's trying to land a plane!" Magnus commented, exasperated at this fact to a cackling Izzy. He had dipped Clary again so low that her crown almost dropped when someone else appeared.
"May I cut in?" He inquired. Clary, still hazy from her last dance, looked up to see the man who'd she'd stepped on earlier.
"Your timing is impeccable. Thank you." She tried not to pay attention to the way his arms wrapped around her waist, and how her hand felt against his. Stay calm, Clary, you don't even know who he is.
"You're welcome, Princess Clarissa." He guided her gracefully across the ballroom, swaying in time with the music. She caught glimpses of Magnus pointing over to her while mentioning something to a wide-eyed Izzy.
"Clary, I like to go by Clary."
"Alright, Clary." The way he said her name was like music to her ears. She had never liked her name more. He had an air of confidence to him that intrigued Clary. She studied his features. He looked familiar, yet she couldn't quite place him. Perhaps his parents had visited the castle along with him once.
"And you are?" She wondered aloud. She was never good at puzzles, she had to admit. She'd rather know the answer rather than figure it out after hours later.
"That wouldn't be a mystery, now would it?" He smirked when she visibly frowned.
"I see my clumsiness hasn't affected your dancing. I'm sorry I stepped on your foot," she said truthfully. A strand of curly blond fell out of place and she felt a slight urge to tuck it back, yet decided against it.
"You can step on my foot anytime," he grinned as the music ended. Clary was about to respond when her mother called, "Clary, Darling, the Lovelaces are here."
Clary felt a wash of excitement and disappointment overcame her. She would see Simon for the first time in so long, yet she didn't want to leave the stranger in front of her. She curtsied politely, "I hope to see you again... Golden Boy."
One eyebrow rose at the newly made nickname. She found herself instantly jealous since she'd always tried and failed to master that small gesture.
"You decided to not reveal your name, so I made one for you. Bye now," she teased. She then turned to leave him on the dance floor, smirking to herself.
While she made her way to Simon, a tray grazed over her head, knocking her crown off. The waiter apologized profusely as she kept assuring him, "it's okay!"
An older man who she recognized as Viscount Herondale had gotten there in time to catch the crown before it fell to the ground, swooping it so that it sat on top of Clary's head once more.
"You better be careful with that thing, wouldn't want anyone snatching it," he chuckled as Clary adjusted the crown so that it sat straight.
"Oh, I hope not!" Clary joked along.
"Like me," the man muttered, unbeknownst to Clary or any of the other guests. No, this scheme wasn't to be revealed yet. It was only known between him and his son...
"Clary!" Simon called, making his way over, stumbling into people who cursed loudly at him and his clumsiness.
"Goodbye, Viscount Herondale..?"
He nodded politely, "what a good memory you have, Princess."
Clary wrapped her friend in a long hug. She sighed; life was the way it should've been. "What's this I hear about you being too chicken to ask out Izzy?"
He rolled his eyes jokingly. Sarcastically, he replied, "I missed you too, Clare."
Clary looped her arm with her friend's and dragged him over to the food table, ordering him to tell her all the details. The rest of the night she got reacquainted with them all, hearing stories of their teen years that she missed out on and exchanging ones of her own. She went to bed that night blissfully happy, if not somewhat bruised. She was exhausted and sleep succumbed quickly. She made a mental note to draw the image that was captured in her mind; all her friends gathered around in fancy get-ups and chatting like she'd never left. She wondered what the palace would have in store for her tomorrow...
