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Disclaimer: I own only the plot. The characters belong to Cassandra Clare.

Jon already suspected who she was when he saw her face. Clary Fray was the spitting image of his mother, Jocelyn Morgenstern. He remembered what his sister had looked like at age three, with brilliant green eyes, a mop of scarlet hair, and a face that was more fat than bone. He could still see traces of that child in the sarcastic but serious teenager in front of him.

"What about it?" Clary asked, brows drawing together. Clary - short for Clarissa. Whoever had kidnapped her had been laughing at them this whole time. He'd spent half his life searching far and wide, through less than friendly kingdoms, and she'd been next door all along.

"Lissa?" Jonathan whispered, and he suspected that the heartbreak in the tone was laid out for all to see. Clary frowned even deeper, like that name meant something to her, from an age so young that she couldn't remember anything from it.

Jace was the first - and only - person in the room to connect the dots. His aureate eyes grew wide and they flew between Clary and Jon, clearly following the same thought process as Jonathan. His hand flew to his mouth. "Are you serious?"

Jonathan rose his eyes to meet Jace's. "Do you honestly think I would joke about this?"

"Pardon me for interrupting," Clary said, green eyes flashing with irritation like lightning in a thundercloud. Jonathan couldn't help but notice that though her obvious colouring was the same as his - their - mother's, the shape of her eyes, the line of her jaw, and the iron determination with which she stood, mirrored their father. "But could someone tell me what is going on?!" Her injured foot seemed to have shifted on her priorities list.

"Yes," her adoptive sister - Isabelle, was it? - said. "An explanation would be appreciated."

But she wouldn't get one. Because before Jon knew what he was doing, he had grabbed Clary's wrist and dragged her out of the room, heedless of her hissing as her bare feet touched the cold floor, or the drops of blood still trailing from her leg. Jace caught up quickly, having swiftly realised what Jon was doing. The others weren't so fast, and he heard indignant cries of outrage behind them. Clary was still trying to yank her hand back. "Good thinking."

Jon momentarily wondered when they'd gained the ability to read each others' minds.

Finally, Clary broke his bruising grip but didn't run. Instead she planted her feet on the ground and plunged daggers into the two of them with her bright eyes. Jace visibly flinched and Jon had to resist the urge to do the same. "What. Are. You. Doing."

Her gaze was fixed on Jonathan, since he'd been the one to come up with the plan, but that didn't stop Jace from cowering. Jonathan steeled himself, then said "Do you trust me?"

She blinked, the clear green glass covered for a moment. Those eyes... How had he not noticed before! It was like when you hear the answer to a riddle, and you kick yourself for not seeing what was right in front of you. She opened her mouth to reply. "Quite frankly, no."

His heart sank, but he understood where she was coming from. The first time she'd spoken to him was about ten minutes ago. "Well then, do you trust Jace?" She made a great show of considering it, as Jace made a mock offended expression, clutching at his heart. "Just follow us." Jonathan said, exasperated. She raised her eyebrows - couldn't she raise one? Or was she just trying to make a point about how sceptical she was of him? - but to his relief didn't argue. She followed, a little behind, like she was just waiting for them to make the wrong move so she could slaughter them. Another person might be intimidated, but he was just amused, throwing glances over his shoulder. When she caught his eye, she narrowed her own at him. He hastily jerked his head forwards, avoiding her fiery gaze.

Jonathan had been right in the assumption that his parents had returned from the ball. When they reached the door to their chambers, though, they heard shouting. The two princes exchanged worried looks, before pushing open the door.

Valentine and Stephen were yelling and glaring at each other, with so much anger it set the air in the room alight. Jocelyn filled in the gaps where Valentine ran out of things to say, her fury making her seem all the more was less vocal, but she stood next to Stephen in a silent show of support.

"We place our trust in you, with bring our son here, and entrust you not to hurt us, and then you try to assassinate us!" Valentine roared, shaking slightly.

"We didn't send them!" Stephen shouted back, fists clenching and unclenching. "They were rebels trying to frame us!"

"It's true," said a voice. It was quiet and firm, but was somehow heard over the shouting. The Morgensterns and Stephen turned towards the new arrivals, more specifically Clary. "They were rebels trying to pose as an assassin sent by Stephen, to disrupt the peace treaty."

"How would you know?"

"Stephen sent me to dispatch them." She replied plainly. Jon looked at her in awe - and he wasn't the only one. So that explained the injury.

Suddenly, Jocelyn rounded on Stephen. "You told a little girl to fight off trained warriors?"

Jonathan sensed disaster even before he saw Clary's outraged expression, looking like she'd just been mortally offended. He cut her off as she opened her mouth, giving her a warning look. "That's not what we came in here for."

"Not that you could be bothered to tell me what we did come in here for." She muttered. Jonathan hid a smile at his father's expression.

"You insolent girl! My son is a Crown Prince and you will treat him with the respect you owe your superiors!"

Jonathan again cut off Clary as she opened her mouth to develop some no doubt scathing words, although he would have paid a fortune to see the showdown of words between her and her father. There would be time for that later, hopefully. "But I'm not her superior, Father." Jonathan said.

All eyes turned on him: black, green, gold and blue. He resisted the urge to turn red, and spoke "Look at her foot."

Five pairs of eyes landed on Clary's bloody foot as everyone but he and Jace looked at it. "It's covered in blood." Jocelyn said, and her raised eyebrow clearly asked a question. "Why?"

"Minor injury," Clary said dismissively. She bent down without having to be asked and wiped the crimson liquid off with her sleeve.

"Now look," Jonathan urged. Valentine did, and drew a sharp intake of breath.

"What is it about this mark on my foot that has everyone so worked up?" Clary asked irritably. Jonathan exchanged glances with his parents, and saw them mirroring each other's shocked expressions. He took that as a go ahead.

He turned to Clary and pulled the collar of his shirt slightly so the star mark on his own shoulder was visible. "Around the ages of fifteen or sixteen Morgenstern children develop a star-shaped mark some place on their body. No one knows why."

Clary had somehow managed to lower her brows but widen her eyes. It was an amusing expression. "So that means..."

Jon reached out and clasped her right hand in his left. He ran his thumb over her knuckles. "It means you're a Morgenstern, Clary. You're my little sister."

Impossible.

Plausible.

How could something be both impossible and plausible at once?

On one hand: she was Clary Fray. A middle-class (presumably) orphan abandoned at a few years old to be raised amongst low-ranked nobles. An assassin who had the blood of a man who was not her King's enemies on her hands. Sister to Isabelle and Alec Lightwood, friend and partner to Simon Lewis, secret love to Jace Herondale. She was no princess.

But on the other hand: she'd never known her parents. She had no idea where she'd come from. Clarissa Morgenstern had disappeared aged three. She'd appeared that year roughly the same age.

But if this was true, then who had taken her, and why?

"Impossible," Stephen said, but he looked uncertain. To be honest, she was unsure of his motives for why he would be so adamant against this idea. But before she could call him out, someone else did.

"You just don't want to lose your personal assassin." Jace sneered. His parents looked taken aback at their son's knowledge.

"You knew?" Celine gasped.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Clary looked back towards Jocelyn and Valentine - her parents - and found them staring back at her. "Clarissa?" Jocelyn breathed. She studied Jocelyn's face.

It was identical to her own.

She believed Jonathan now.

She spread her arms wide in a half-shrug, as though that might calm her racing heart. "Apparently."

The breath left her in a whoosh as Jocelyn knocked into her, hugging her and squeezing like she would disappear again as soon as she let go. Clary laughed and hugged her mother back, burying her face in her shoulder.

Jocelyn pulled away and skimmed two fingers along her daughter's cheekbone, all the while murmuring "You're back, you're back" over and over. She laughed louder when she felt hesitant, thick arms wrap around the both of them and she felt her father's touch for the first time in her life. She felt a hot tear on her shoulder and she neither knew nor cared whose it was. She grinned at her brother over her mother's shoulder, who grinned back.

Jace stood watching, feeling his heart swell for Clary. She looked so happy; her face had lit up and if her cheeks hurt from so much smiling, she didn't show it.

And Isabelle, who stood in the doorway, smiled at the Morgensterns as the years of lost love were repaid in an instant.

But no one said anything, lest they break the moment in which a broken family became whole again.

Clary hadn't been able to sleep. She tossed and turned for hours. Finally she gave up and went where she always did when she couldn't sleep, and climbed the stairs in the palace up to the roof. She sat on the edge, her feet dangling in the sheer drop, and just looked at the stars.

It had been agreed that her job as an assassin was finished. Stephen would have to find a new lapdog to carry out his dirty work. She would be leaving for the Morgenstern palace with the rest of her family soon, leaving behind the Lightwoods and Jace and everything else she ever known. She was going home.

Home. She never thought she'd had one. Despite her years of living in with the Lightwoods, this place had never felt like it. She wondered whether the Morgenstern's residence would feel like one.

She looked out over the kingdom. The shining lights of Alicante, the nearest city, glittered on the horizon. This was the kingdom where she had grown into a woman. Where she had met some of her closest friends, and even her crush. Where she had spilled blood for the first time.

Her family had been surprisingly accepting of her being an assassin. They said that their family were born to be warriors, and she'd only learned the skills needed in a more unorthodox way.

"Need any company?" She turned to see Jace, silhouetted against the moon.

"How did you know I'd be here? Or even that I couldn't sleep?" She asked as he perched on the edge beside her.

He shrugged. "What kind of person would be able to sleep after the events you went through today. And I knew you'd be here because whenever you get upset you head for high ground. You like to see the sky and the horizon and the earth. It makes you feel infinite."

"Did I ever tell you I think it's creepy how closely you pay attention to me?" She teased light-heartedly. He gave her a crooked grin.

"No, just heavily hinted at it." They laughed, and Clary loved the ease with which she could. For one night up here, they could be an ordinary boy and girl, with no royal duties calling, or eyes watching and judging. They could be themselves.

"Something's bothering you." Jace said. It wasn't a question. There was an invitation to share in his tone, although she knew he wouldn't pry. But she didn't mind.

"It feels strange." She admitted. "This morning I was Clary Fray, telling my adoptive sister Isabelle Lightwood to stop trying to set me up with you," Jace raised and eyebrow, looking amused "and now I'm Clarissa Morgenstern, the long lost princess. Those are big boots to fill. What if my feet aren't big enough?" Jace kept quiet. He knew she wasn't done. "Who am I?" Her voice cracked.

Jace looked at her, and took her wringing hands in his own. "You are Clary," he said softly. Calmly. "You are both Clary Fray and Clarissa Morgenstern, and a thousand other things. Your names don't define you. What defines you is the way you hug your siblings so tight it's like you're afraid they'll disappear if you let go. What defines you is the way you remember the names and stories of every single person you've killed, so they live on in a way. What defines you is the way you talk back to your superiors until they give up trying to reprimand you, and the way you did your best to stop my romantic advances because you knew that it could only end in heartbreak for both of us, and the way that even now, when you have the right to all the confidence in the world, you are still second-guessing yourself."

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he continued. His voice was a melodic chant. "What defines you is the way that though your walls are ice, your heart is fire, and it burns through everyone's defences." He touched their foreheads together. "Why do you think I fell in love with you?"

Her breath caught. "Say that again."

He smiled gently. "I'm in love with you, Clary."

And then they were kissing, and it was everything and nothing like what she'd expected. It was a kiss meant to instil solace, and peace, and acceptance, but it was so much more than that. It was the moment where everything they'd tried to hide from the world was laid out in the open without a second thought, for the world to scrutinise all it wanted. Jace's hand came up to cup the back of her neck and they both smiled, sharing the same sense of utter contentment.

When they pulled back, Clary said a little breathlessly: "I love you too, Jace," at which his smile only grew wider. "But my brother is going to kill you."

"Alec or Jon?"

"Both."

"Well," Jace said with laughter in his voice, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. "They won't want to risk making you a widow, will they?"

This brought her up short. "What?"

He only smiled. "Remember? Clarissa Morgenstern and Jonathan Herondale are engaged."

Her lips parted, as she looked at Jace like he was the only star in the sky. He whispered soothing words to her. "You're leaving soon, Clary. For a few years, you won't see me or Alec or Isabelle everyday. But soon you'll be back again, and you'll be called Clarissa Herondale."

She only looked at him, feeling like her heart would break from the sheer amount of feelings it contained. They kissed again, and stayed up on the roof all night, watching the stars. Because they had time, all the time in the world, and they didn't need to hide anymore.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't tear up a little writing this.

The next chapter will be the last chapter! It's almost over!

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