Jem didn't know what he was expecting. When he was one of the orphans here, there weren't that many. Although the dining room could seat a good fifty people, it had not been even a quarter full in its day. There were few children accepted by the board.
Today, however, the hall was full. About forty children and about ten adults of all ages.
The looks they gave him were between curiosity and distrust. A few of the older children eyed him as if trying to save Tessa from his company. Inevitably, Jem wondered how many of them had known Will and still remembered him. How many of them were related to them.
As far as he knew, after their marriage, Lucie moved to an estate outside of town. Jem didn't know much about her children. Apparently they visited Will's grave and the Institute from time to time, helping out when needed, but each had their own jobs and responsibilities.
James, with his wife Cordelia, had taken over the leadership of the Institut from Will. Owen, Jem learned yesterday, was still working in the military at the moment, but he was living at the Institute with his wife and child as they wanted to take over from James after the war.
Will's sister and Gabriel Lightwood also moved out after their marriage, but one of their sons was a faculty member at the Institute. Tessa said that although he was unrelated to former director Henry Fairchild, he was incredibly similar in character.
They often spent time together in the crypt's laboratory, blowing things up.
With Tessa at his side, he crossed the room towards the adult table.
Giggling, the children they passed greeted Tessa. "Hello, Grandma."
Jem smiled at that. He thought it was nice to see Tessa being seen as family by all the kids. He had often imagined them both surrounded by their grandchildren, with her at the center of the action. How she read stories from her favorite books and was beamed at by everyone.
Oddly enough, Jem could well imagine that this was how she had spent her Saturday nights for years. Only with the difference that he could never watch her doing it.
But feeling the children's love for Tessa reassured him.
Owen got up to greet the two outsiders.
First he hugged his grandmother and then he gave Jem his hand. "Nice that you could come."
Jem nodded his head in thanks. "I'm honored."
One by one the adults also got up to introduce themselves.
To Owen's right sat his wife, Lydia, with a small bundle of discarded limbs in her arms. Beside them sat Christopher Lightwood with his wife Grace.
Some names didn't sound familiar to him. They were teachers and educators hired to educate multitudes of children.
Apparently, the group had been divided into four classes, each with up to ten children. Each class was accompanied by a housemaster. Depending on the timetable, the teachers were responsible for everyone. Most of the teachers did not live in the institute but only came for the days when they taught their subjects.
Then, of course, there were the servants. It used to be normal for them to eat in the kitchen and stay away from the teachers and children.
Those times had now changed. They, too, were among the adults in the dining room. Only Bridget preferred to dine in the kitchen. She was an old, stubborn cook who would never break her old habits.
And then of course there were the leaders.
Jem greeted Cordelia first. Her red hair was recognizable even at her advanced age, her skin darker than most in the room, like him being from Asian heritage. If he had it right in his head, her maternal family came from India.
Seeing her wrinkles and the years of her life in her eyes was weirdly funny. Although Jem had never met her, he always pictured her as a young girl. The fiery girl who could turn a Herondale's head.
Then there was James.
God, he looked just like Will. His eyes were a bit washed out with age, but the Herondale blue was clearly there. His gaze was calmer than Will's, more a version of his mother, as was his smile.
Jem cupped his face in both hands and struggled to focus on the boy through tears.
"It's so nice to finally meet you in person, Uncle Jem."
He had to laugh. No one had ever called him that. But of course he was. Will had been Jem's brother. In every way that mattered, James was his nephew. Jem knew he could count his best friends' children as family. That was as clear as the sun woke the morning.
"Oh my boy," he finally said. He leaned forward, his hands still on James' face. "I can see him when I look at you. The best thing about him, what made him such a wonderful person."
James grabbed Jem's wrists. Curiosity was in his gaze, which was fixed on Jem. "Mom always said that you two were like night and day. In a way they were polar opposites of each other, but unmistakably belonged together." Then he smiled too. "I can see it."
Jem saw it too. The Ghost of William Herondale. Beside him, elated that Jem was finally here. In the midst of his family, Tessa on his side, his son on the other, surrounded by the people who had shaped Will's life and cared so much about him.
And finally the lost part of it had returned. To where it belonged.