Rule one: never ever kiss the Beast. For if you do so, your heart is sure to fail.
oOoOo
The notice appeared the day after Clary's brother, the blacksmith, vanished from the town without a trace within the night. It had been a fairly normal day for Clary until she saw the notice along with everyone else; she had mended Isabelle's dress once again, and received no thank-you as per usual. During breakfast she had had to endure Isabelle's constant, endless talk about Meliorn, the messenger from the castle. Every Monday morning she would venture into the bustling town square to watch him tack up the newest message from the castle, batting her eyelashes hopefully at him. Clary was dragged along each time, and not by choice. And Meliorn never looked twice at Isabelle, much to her intense frustration and fury.
"Am I not beautiful?!" she had raged the previous Monday. "I am stunning, and yet he gives Clary his smiles instead! And she is... drab and unremarkable. And not a noble. She's there to make me look good!"
By now, Clary was more than used to being talked about as if she was not there. If anything, she was surprised that Isabelle even remembered her name. Though she lived in Isabelle's splendid manor, she was nothing more than an unwelcome pet that paid to be there. Or that was how Clary felt, anyway.
The walk into the town had been normal too. Isabelle belittled and insulted the most recent of her rich suitors, and as Clary predicted, her brother came up straight after.
"Did you see the hair on his face? Disgusting! Why, I thought him the Beast himself the last time he came to call. Oh, and remember when he kept sending those huge and positively dreadful yellow flowers? So gaudy! A lady is to be small and delicate, not large and loud. In any sense..." Clary didn't miss the way her adoptive sister's eyes travelled up and down her body, badly disguising the disgust and jealousy at her small figure. Isabelle claimed often that she was taller than any woman ought to be.
"Either way," Isabelle sniffed, "I'm very glad that your brother lives at that... shop. He'd track filth everywhere and cause the house to stink, I'm afraid."
Clary loved her brother. Though just what he saw in Isabelle, she had no idea. Maybe he, like the other men who had also fallen hard for her, had been drawn to her beauty like a moth to a flame. Though he wasn't the brightest of men, he was talented with his hands and relatively kind. If anything, he was much too good for Isabelle and her cold, dead heart. It was because of him that she lived in such a fine house and received such excellent lessons.
So as usual, Clary kept quiet the entire time.
When they both reached the square, the sunlight filtering through the bright, cottony clouds, Meliorn was already climbing down from the board. And most unusual, a crowd was already gathered below. Though the expressions of horror were barely new.
Clary's heart sank - was it the Beast? He wasn't dead, for there would be celebrations in the street, not gasps of terror.
And then Isabelle craned her head towards the notice. She gasped softly, placing a hand against her heart. "Goodness," she said, turning to Clary. "It would seem that your brother has been an exceptionally foolish man and attempted to slay the Beast."
Clary stumbled, head spinning. No. He wasn't that stupid. "What?" she croaked, trying in vain to see the notice, but she was simply too short. "Has he been hurt?"
Isabelle was staring at her, Clary noticed a second later. With disgust and with fear. "The Beast wants another offering," Isabelle said dully, eyes still boring into Clary's own. "Another girl. As punishment for your brother's actions against him."
Clary started, alarmed. "But... he has had his woman for this year already! Emma Carstairs in the Spring."
"Well, evidently she did not please him and is dead," Isabelle said bluntly, shifting as if reluctant to be seen with her. "And now if no one steps forward as a volunteer, the castle will pick one of us at random and send them to that horrid creature to do who knows what to them."
Clary noticed that other girls and parents were shooting her glares and looks full of disgust and contempt. So they also blamed her since she was Jonathan's sister. Clary felt her blood run cold.
She shrank away slightly. "We don't know that the Beast kills those he's sent," Clary whispered, fingers trembling slightly. Though even she couldn't see a way where the girls could still be alive. "We must have faith."
"Faith won't make me immune to the castle," Isabelle laughed bitterly, taking yet another step away from the girl. "My poor Mama will have a turn when she hears this news. What your brother has brought down upon us." What you have, she seemed to add. Though how it was her own fault, Clary was mystified. Isabelle left Clary to the mercy of the gossiping and growing steadily more angry crowd. Fearing for her life, Clary left too.
It was halfway up the hill leading towards the old watchtower ruins that it truly hit Clary that her brother was most likely dead. She doubled over, hand upon her stomach as the sobs came and tears rolled down her cheeks. Gone. Her only family was gone. And now she was alone. It was a grief that couldn't be spoken.
"Oh Jonathan," Clary whispered, sinking down upon the soft emerald grass and bringing her knees up to her chest. It felt like there was a hollow inside of her chest. "You fool. You utterly idiotic fool!" He had probably slipped into the castle to bring back the Beast's head to try and impress Isabelle. Cold, heartless Isabelle. And now he had ruined not only his life, but his sister's own and some poor girl in the village's family too. If the lottery was anything like the usual one, tomorrow at dawn a representative from the castle would appear at the door of the girl's family and take her away before the sun was barely in the sky. After that, who knew what lay beyond inside of that castle? The Beast took the form of a man during the night hours, and a gigantic golden bear with glowing dark aureate eyes during the day. He had controlled the western isles for as long as anyone could remember. One day life had been normal and monotonous, and then the next he was there, terrorising the King and his people. When he had made his first demand for a woman, an entire town was said to have stormed the castle in which he had made his home. None made it out alive and the Beast ventured forth into the town the next evening and revealed his monstrous form to keep them frightened and docile. They could hardly move away with their meagre salaries and the journey across the treacherous waters was enough to put anyone off. And the land bridge was a week's walk away.
Some, like Isabelle and her family, stayed out of defiance. Or so they claimed. Clary hadn't helped but notice that no rich family had ever been hit by the Beast, no girl taken. It made her feel bitter - why were they above the poor? Isabelle evidently had not made the connection, and Clary didn't intend on enlightening her anytime soon.
oOoOo
When Clary returned to the estate, she was immediately called into Robert Lightwood's office. Nervous, Clary smoothed down the front of her moss-coloured dress and walked forward. Normally she and the elder man were on good terms, so Clary had no idea what could possibly be wrong. Though her mind immediately jumped to the worst scenario possible.
"Sit," he grunted the moment she stepped into the room. Frightened, Clary obeyed, saying nothing.
Robert sighed and scrubbed his hand across his stubbled cheek. "I have a problem, Clarissa. Or rather, you do."
"What's wrong?" Clary asked, her eyes wide and frightful. Surely he wasn't going to throw her out just because of Jonathan? It was hardly her fault that he had done such a terribly dumb thing.
"I'm afraid that you cannot stay here any longer now. I'm sure you understand why?"
Clary's silence was answer enough.
Robert paused, then "You simply cannot pay us for lodgings and lessons. Your brother was your only source of income after all. Now that he is gone... I'm sorry."
Tears sparkled in Clary's eyes. So she was being thrown out after all. She had lived on the Lightwood estate for next to three years after they'd offered her a chance of education and freedom from the orphanage. They hadn't asked for much money, but it had still left a considerable dent in the money Jonathan brought in, even when he advanced from apprentice to a true blacksmith. He had chosen to sleep there rather than find a house. It was only more expenditure.
"But where will I go?" Clary whispered. Once more her hands were shaking something fierce. "I-I don't have any money saved up. And I am too old for the orphanage now." Not that she'd ever return. It was the place of nightmares.
"We need a new servant in the kitchen," Robert told her quietly. "You may have the position if you want it. It's not much, but it'll keep you off the streets. I'm sorry, I truly am. You can stay in your quarters tonight, but tomorrow I expect to see your dresses turned in and personal belongings moved downstairs."
A servant in the kitchens. Clary felt low, useless even. All her education and she was to be thrown into the kitchen. But it was true; she had nowhere to go.
"I'll take it." Her shoulders slumped.
Robert had always been fond of the quiet little mouse and it pained him greatly to see her fall in such a way. Isabelle saw her as a servant already, and his wife thought Clary as nothing more than filth walking around the house, cursing her husband and his kind heart. After all, it had been he who had saved Clary from hell and even gotten Jonathan the position in the blacksmiths.
And now it was all for nothing.
"I am so sorry," Robert repeated again when Clary rose to her feet. She nodded but didn't speak, fearing that she would throw up if she tried to.
Clary barely slept that night. Instead she cried and cursed Jonathan for his foolishness, then cried because she missed him. First their parents when they were ten, now Jonathan. Clary had never felt more alone. More cursed.
When dawn approached, the sun nothing more than a smudge of pink shot through with gold on the horizon, Clary heard horses hooves pound outside and then the clatter of a carriage.
She sat bolt upright. Visitors at such an hour? It was impossible. Unless...
Clary's blood chilled. It made horrible, terrible sense: either she or Isabelle had been drawn and that carriage was bound for...
"I will fear no evil," Clary whispered as she got changed into the most beautiful dress she owned. If she was going to her death, Clary thought that she might as well look nice. The dress was a deep emerald with a sweetheart neckline. There was nothing to show off, but Clary loved it all the same. "Let me be strong," she continued, voice trembling as she pulled on her warm fur coat. She had to try three times before she managed to fasten the buttons correctly. "Let me be brave."
It was only Isabelle awake when she ventured down the sweeping marble staircase. The girl hadn't even changed, ebony hair a crown atop her head and nightgown long and silken. Clary immediately noticed the way she was watching her, the smallest of smirks about her lips. "Hurry up now," she called.
"You haven't changed," Clary breathed. "Are you that certain? Have they said something?"
Isabelle arched a delicate eyebrow. She scoffed. "Of course, silly girl. Of course it's not me who will be going! Seeing as it's your brother that brought this calamity down upon us, I didn't think you'd object to being volunteered. My mother and the townsfolk agreed that it's the noblest thing someone in your... Position can do."
Clary heard the girl's words, but they barely registered. The world spun around and around as if trapped in a whirlpool of color and Clary almost lost her balance. "No-" she croaked, backing away. "No! This is not my fault! You had no right! No right at all to do such a thing!"
"As your new owner, I had every right, you foul little creature. You may dress up in silks, but we all know what you are: timid street filth that would never amount to anything. Even your own brother barely spent time with you! Surely that was sign enough that no one is bothered with you. That no one wants you around them."
And then Clary did the boldest move of her entire life: she slapped Isabelle Lightwood right across the face.
After a moment of pure, stunned silence, Isabelle clenched her hands into fists. "I pity the Beast," she whispered, then swung hard and fast.
Intense, blinding pain, and then everything drained away into darkness and oblivion.
oOoOo
Thank you so much for the reviews! So happy that you liked the prologue and I hope you also loved chapter one of Heartless! As you've probably figured out, some characters are OOC. But hey, who doesn't like OOC? So much more fun to work with! Next chapter we will meet our elusive Beast. Big, fluffy and golden. Maybe Jace/the Beast should have been described as a giant Chihuahua instead of a bear, haha!
Also, how is everyone enjoying the Shadowhunters show? It's uh... I'm not sure about it.
And pretty please drop some more reviews!