Chapter 4
Clary's POV
When Clary woke up that morning, with sunlight streaming across her face, it took her a while to remember why there were butterflies flying around in her stomach. Tuesday...new lambs? No… mail day? No… Visitors. Clary shot upright, jumping out of bed, pausing only to don her slippers, as she raced downstairs. Although the Lightwoods and Jace weren't coming until later that day, Clary wanted to finish her jobs for the day before they arrived. So she raced around, cleaning the chicken coops and collecting eggs, milking the cows, and checking on the sheep. Finally, at one pm on the dot, she was finished outside.
Clary wasn't normally one to care about her appearance, but today she found herself staring at the contents of her newly acquired floordrobe, trying to piece together an outfit that wasn't covered in stains and holes. She decided on an oversized grey t-shirt, and her newest pair of black tights, and continued onto the bathroom, where she attempted to tie her still damp hair into a ponytail.
Clary let out a sigh of relief, flopping onto the couch, with her art book in hand. Now all she had to do was wait…
Jace's POV
Jace didn't want to get up. Who knows, this could be his last time sleeping in an actual bed for the next three months. They probably still live in mud huts at the farm… he sighed. This was going to be a long three months. Unwillingly, he rolled out of his king sized bed, staggering to his ensuite, his eyes still half closed to block out the harsh morning light.
When he eventually made it out of the warm shower, something he once again wasn't sure he would get for the next three months, he progressed on to the kitchen, where he was met by the rest of his family.
Jace hadn't spoken to his family in the four days since he was told about the farm. This morning was no different. His family kept up a happy conversation around him, discussing anything and everything, whilst he sat, sullenly, only opening his mouth to eat.
"Jace" Jace didn't look up. "Jace" Jace still refused to acknowledge the speaker, staring intently at his plate. "Jace" Maryse yelled "We are leaving in thirty minutes, and you better be ready, whether you like it or not"
After giving his adoptive mother a long, hard look, Jace stood up and left the room.
Jace had never liked road trips. While the rest of his siblings were content to sing along to songs and play I spy he had always preferred reading, and staring out the window. Today was no different. He spent the entire eight-hour journey glaring out the window at the scenery, as it gradually changed from high rises and shops, to paddocks and cows. He didn't open his mouth to speak once. Not even when Isabelle poured an entire bottle of water onto his pants, and certainly not when he arrived, and his parents said goodbye, and that they loved him, and that they'd be back in three months. No, not even then.
Disclaimer: I'm sorry if anything sounds like someone else's work - it wasn't intentional. Any characters that aren't my own belong to Cassandra Clare.
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