"Your grace… " Magnus said, "It is alright if you are upset." His eyes flicked worriedly to the lords and ladies gathered in the queens solar. The queen herself was leaning over the charts table, her long red hair pooling on the table. Her back was to those assembled, and her rich blue skirts hung down over the steps leading up to the charts table on its raised platform in the centre of the room. Gathered in the room were only her closest advisors. Lord Jace, whom many suspected to be her lover, stood closest to the queen, at the foot of the stairs. His golden skin shone gloriously against the black of his scaled Herondale hunting armour. Isobel stood by her brother Alec, next to Magnus. She cut a dashing figure in a deep red, the same colour that graced her lips. Alec wore the same lightweight hunting armour as Jace, yet Magnus, the courts chief warlock, wore a deep oxblood tunic with black breeches. The queens mother stood in the far corner, nervously clutching the hand of her second husband. The queens chief advisor, Simon, stood opposite her, the only one able to see the face so many admired. Alec and Isabelle's parents were also present, as well as Jia Penhallow and other members of the Conclave, the council that made all the more minor decisions for the queen.

"We can leave you if you want your grace. This news must be hard to swallow." Robert Lightwoods voice was soft and in all fairness the news delivered to her should have caused her to collapse, to weep and sob, but Queen Clarissa was holding up. Her brother had betrayed her, claiming the city she had given him to rule. He was advancing towards the towering pyramids of Idris with an army at his back, raping and pillaging as he came, and professing falseties about his younger sister. There had always been a strong relationship between the Queen and her half – brother, her fathers illigitemate son. The strength of their love for each other had blurred the lines of love and hate, and the feud he had started was to end in blood.

The queen slowly rose and lifted her hands from the table. Magnus read simons face hoping to see a reflection of Queen Clarissas in his eyes. Yet his curly topped features were surprisingly still. His features showed no hint of emotion.

Slowly, the Queen turned around, and as her pale face came in to view, Magnus could tell that the whole room was shocked. For the Queen showed no remorse, to sadness or grief, only a steely reverence and a strength that Magnus had never seen on a ruler before.

She descended the stairs, and Lord Jace raised his hand to help her down the stairs her long skirts collected in a pale fist. Her long red curls fell over her shoulders and swished at her hips.

"You are not upset your grace?" Lady Maryse asked, the queen had moved across the map room, with Jace in tow. She turned at Maryses words, as the guards opened the doors for her.

"I am a queen," Her green eyes shone as she raised her head high. "We do not weep so easily. Call the banners and bring me my brother." The queen turned and left, her skirts swishing behind her.