The next four hours with Izzy are torture. Complete and utter torture.

The ceremony that we go to before the Fating (that's when we find out if we're a Destined or an Unprivileged) is really fancy. And I'm talking really fancy. As in ball gowns and chandleries and men in posh suits and ballroom dancing and weird but apparently expensive foods that are just there for decoration.

So obviously Izzy is going all out. She spends the first hour on makeup- eyeliner and mascara and lipstick, and god knows what else she's covering my face with. Then the next hour is hair- twists and curls and looping it around and around my head, and then probably far too much hairspray to hold it in place.

Finally it's on to the dress and shoes, which takes a whole two hours. Ugh. The dress is beautiful though. It's dark turquoise with a glittered top half and a long floaty skirt. The shoes are black with thin straps that wind around my ankles. They're 3 inches, so I can hardly walk in them, but Izzy insists.

After that I have to parade my self across our ballroom, so my parents can see how lovely I look. My mother bursts into tears and starts blubbering on about how her little girl is all grown up and how beautiful I am and how she can't wait to see me queen. (You're the only one mother.)

My father is the strong and silent type, though I did see his eyes get a bit moist- ha, got you! – And then they go and congratulate Izzy on the wonderful job she's done. Izzy waves away their offers of payment and says it was an honour, and besides, she's my best friend and it's what we do.

After that I just have to sit tight and try not to smudge my makeup or Izzy will kill me, and wait until 8pm when the limousine gets here to take me to the ball.

Just before I'm due to leave, my mother comes up to me. "Clary", she says carefully." "I know that you're not really into the whole 'love' thing. But since there is a very high chance of you becoming queen, we really have to start looking for some potential husbands for you."

I cut her off with a sigh. "Mum. We've talked about this before. I'm not ready yet. I might not ever be. You know this isn't the life I want."

"But it's the life you have!" she was starting to get angry. "Not everything always goes your way! Not everything is perfect!"

"You can't force me to do this!" I yell at her. You can't force me to be a perfect princess, or a perfect daughter! It's my life! Not yours. Mine."

My mother is about to retort back, but just then there's the sound of a horn outside. Thank god. The limo is here. Mother shouts something to me, but as I storm off towards the car, I pretend I can't here her.

This is going to one hell of a night.