The next morning, Clary woke to an unfamiliar room with a weight on her side. She panicked for a second before she remembered what happened last night. She blushed and realized that the weight on her side was Jace's arm. She tried to get up, but as soon as she started to move, Jace pulled her closer to him. She sighed, "Jace, let me get up, it's morning."

He groaned and pulled her tighter against his bare chest, "Why, we don't have to do anything today. Can't we just lie in bed?"

Clary giggled and turned around, "We can't just lie in bed because I haven't met anyone but your cousins and a couple of servants."

"Well, that's about everyone I talk to," Jace muttered while kissing her shoulder.

"Jace, I'm serious," Clary told him.

"So am I," He said, peppering kisses up her jaw.

Clary shuttered and bit back a moan as he began to suck underneath her ear. "Jace-"

"I seem to recall you screaming that to me as I brought you to your climax," He interrupted her.

Clary blushed and groaned, "We have to get up."

"No," Jace told her.

"Jace, come on. You can stay in bed but I'm getting up," Clary said.

"No, you are not," Jace growled.

Clary's eyes widened and she shut her mouth. Jace wrapped his arms around her and shut his eyes. Soon, Clary noticed that he was asleep and she inspected his body. She noticed several scars on his torso. She pulled back as much as she could with his tight grip on her torso. His scars were everywhere, some were white and healed, but some were still pink. She traced them with her finger. She sighed and rolled over; realizing Jace wasn't going to let her get up anytime soon.

"Mmmm, good girl," Jace mumbled in her ear.

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When Jace finally let Clary get up, it was nearly noon. He called for Rebecca to get Clary ready for the day, pulled on some trousers and a shirt, and left the room. Clary had tried talking to him about his scars, but he just got mad at her. Clary sat, silently fuming, while Rebecca dressed her for the day.

"Rebecca? Do you think you could put me in the sexiest dress I have?" Clary asked Rebecca, conjuring up a plan.

"Sure, are you trying to get your husband to make love to you?" Rebecca asked with a smirk.

"No, I'm trying to torture him. He made me mad and I want him to pay," Clary said with a smile.

"Mrs. Herondale, I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Herondale has a bad temper. If you deny him something he wants, he will find a way to get it," Rebecca replied.

"Well, so be it, oh, and can you put my hair up?" Clary asked her.

"But your love marks, do you want me to cover them?"

"No, please don't."

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Jace sat down at the lunch table after training for hours. He was angry at Clary for pushing him about his scars, he was angry at his father for giving him his scars, and he was angry at himself for how he was treating Clary, but his damn pride keeps getting in the way. He ran a hand through his hair angrily.

"Presenting the lady of the Herondale household, Mrs. Herondale," he heard Rebecca announce.

Jace looked up as Clary entered the room. He took in a gulp of air when he noticed her tight fitting dress that stuck to her body until right above her knees and flared out. Her hair was up in a high hairdo, showing off the love bites he gave her. He stood up and pulled out her chair and he sat down in his.

"I thought I told you I like her hair down," he snapped at Rebecca.

"I had specific orders from Mrs. Herondale to put her hair up," Rebecca slowly informed him.

He looked sharply at Clary and angrily said, "My orders overrule hers. Never again put her hair up without my consent."

Rebecca nodded and quickly left the room.

"You do not get to overrule me ever again. You forget that I am the man of this house. You are a woman. You have no rights. Do you understand me?" Jace yelled at Clary.

Clary recoiled and her eyes widened. She silently nodded and reached up to let her hair down. She removed her hair from its pins and sat down at the table. Simon walked into the room and quietly set their food in front of them.

"Thank you," Clary quietly mumbled before she began eating. Simon left the room and Clary looked down at her meal.

Jace groaned, "Clary, I'm sorry. I-I don't know why I'm so mad. I-I just had a rough childhood and I don't like talking about it. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

Clary continued to look down at her food, "It is okay," she said quietly.

"No, Clary, it's not. I shouldn't have done that. Look at me," he sincerely told her.

Clary slowly looked up at her husband, "I would really appreciate it if you would tell me. Y-you don't have to, but I would like if you did."

Jace sighed, "If this is what it takes for you to help you understand, then so be it, but I'm going to warn you, it's not a happy story."

"I can take a little tragedy," Clary told him.

Jace nodded, "Alright, so when I was younger, my father was a nice man. He was loving, kind, and everything a man should be. But one day, he just changed. All the sudden he was always snapping at my mother and I. I was ten years old at the time and we were living in Paris. My father began to hit the servants until he eventually began to start hitting me. I was fine with him hitting me, but when he started hitting my mother, I was outraged. I would always fight and yell at him, but that just made him begin to hit me with the whip. I left as soon as I could, a year in a half ago. When I left, my father was leaving to go to Egypt. Napoleon allowed me to come here and I jumped at the opportunity."

Clary gasped and stood up. She slowly walked over to where he was sitting and sat on his lap. She kissed him and wiped away some tears that were in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and cried into her shoulder. She stroked his hair as he cried, "Shhhh, Shhhh, it is alright," she murmured to him.

After he was done crying, Clary quietly wiped away his tears with a napkin and smiled at him, "Thank you."

Instead of answering her, he fiercely kissed her on her mouth. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom swiftly and made love to his wife.