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I am so excited about this chapter... 3 Let me know what you think by leaving a review!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments. :)
"You seem disappointed, Miss Buonavento," Valentine smirked. "An unexpected reaction, from a member of Raziel's Circle…" His eyes flickered knowingly, like dark candle flames, while he folded his hands under his chin. A smile teased the corner of his sculpted mouth – as if he sensed he had caught her off guard. "Considering the circumstances, I thought you might be pleased to see me alive and well."
Jada froze in the ornate wooden doorway, begging her pulse to slow.
Valentine Morgenstern was unexpectedly handsome, Jada thought – barely different than the pictures of his youth, except for the sharper angularity to his cheekbones and jaw. His marble-pale skin and hair made him look like a statue of some ancient war general where he sat behind that impressive, gleaming wooden desk. Sunlight shone in from the window behind him, cutting the edges of his crisp, dark suit in an ethereal glow, softening him somehow.
Jada begged her heart rate to slow – to hide any indication of surprise, but she knew the attempt was only half-successful. While she had learned well over the years how to control her facial expressions, she couldn't seem to hide the hurried rise and fall to her chest or the thunderous pounding of her own heart as she met Valentine's dark gaze.
It was a painful reminder that she had been caught by surprise – an emotion Jada had built an entire information network to never have to feel again. Dipping her head in a polite bow, Jada glared at a knot in the wooden floor, wanting to kick herself.
This man was not going to get the best of her.
She had spent nearly 10 years gaining her network in Downworld. She was one of the most powerful informants the Invisible World had ever known. She knew full well what Valentine Morgenstern was – and the answer was a stepping stone. He was a single rung on the ladder that would bring her closer to the reformation of the Clave.
Nothing more.
Willing a pleasant expression, Jada carefully crossed her hands in front of her. "It is not every day I meet a legend, Mr. Morgenstern," she began, in a quiet, silken voice. "Especially not one that is supposed to be so infamously dead."
Valentine scoffed. "Death for a Shadowhunter is an honor," he answered a bit quickly. He absently picked up an elegant, heavy crystal glass from his desk, inspecting the rays of light that exploded from its faceted base. "Some would call my escape from it a failure."
A failure?
While his posture was painfully unconcerned, a strange twist of emotion in Valentine's voice made her pause. Jada scanned his elegant features, now dark with memory, trying to devise a flattering reply. Of course, it was easy to imagine what failure Valentine was thinking of. All of the Invisible World knew what transpired at the Uprising, seven years ago. How Jocelyn Morgenstern had thwarted the Circle's massacre at the Accords. How the Circle's plans had ultimately failed. She could see it churning now behind his dark eyes like midnight waves on the ocean.
Carefully, Jada took a step deeper into the bookshelf-lined room, trying to dance with Valentine's thoughtful mood. "Even failure can be glorious, if in the name of the greater good," she murmured, quietly gauging his expression.
The comment seemed to have the right effect. There was half-surprised pause, but after a moment, Valentine lightly chuckled.
"I could not have said it better myself," he replied, seeming pleased.
Moments later, the Circle leader raised his pale hand, gesturing to the wooden chairs in front of his desk, inviting her in. The ring on his left hand glinted like a silver bullet, catching her eye. The ring was a silver signet, stamped with the letter 'M', surrounded by a motif of stars. Jada took the invitation as a good sign – alongside the new glimmer of fascination in his black eyes.
"Please, take a seat, Miss Buonavento…" he insisted with a charming smile. "I am sure you must be exhausted. You had quite the busy day, so I hear –"
"I would prefer to stand, if I may," Jada replied shortly. Casually, she wandered into the room, taking in the rows of books and gilded wooden paneling with intrigue. Her heels clicked against the wooden floor like a lazy metronome. "Carriage travel makes me restless."
Something flashed in Valentine's eyes, out of the corner of her eye – a momentary flicker of displeasure, but Jada wasn't surprised. She expected staff very rarely ever spoke back to him that way, rarely failed to comply with his every beck and call. In a moment though, his expression was gone, replaced with that easy smile – that pleasant mask that instantly transformed his striking features.
"As you wish…" he murmured, lowering his arm.
Jada turned away, trying to take in the details of what seemed like Valentine's office. It was an impressively sized room, with a curved wall of windows behind his impressive desk. Rows of books lined the other walls, their gilded spines glimmering like jewels in the afternoon sunlight. Valentine's dark eyes cautiously followed her while she scanned through the volumes – like she was a panther pacing in a cage.
Silence settled in between them, but Jada refused to break it.
"You are a bit of a legend yourself, Miss Buonavento…" Valentine finally continued, his voice dripping charm. "Rumor has it that you single-handedly killed Italy's Head Pack leader two years ago. When I heard the story, I was wondering why we never met at the Academy, though it makes sense now. The rumors never alluded that you were quite so young."
Jada raised an eyebrow at him, over her shoulder. "I am surprised you know about the Pack Leader's death. I heard the Clave tried to keep that little secret as contained as possible."
A passionate conviction burned alongside his confident amusement now.
"Naturally," Valentine replied in his resonant voice. "I imagine that the Council is ashamed that they didn't do it themselves."
He scanned her over again now – his gaze pure curiosity, like she was some kind of newly discovered species of animal. Behind his ornate mahogany desk, he looked as commanding and pristine as a Clave official. Hardly the wild, bloodthirsty rebel Jada had expected.
"I assume it is true, then?" Valentine added. "That you killed the pack leader in Italy?"
Jada didn't feel the need to lie.
"The rumors are true," she confirmed with a shrug. The gesture won an impressed smirk from Valentine. Abandoning her search of the bookshelves, Jada sauntered over to him, perching herself on the edge of his desk's thick molded edge, close enough to touch him. There was an expensive-looking chessboard there, and she eyed it with mild interest. "Do you play, Mr. Morgenstern?" she wondered, changing the subject. "Chess, that is?"
Valentine smiled.
"Occasionally," he replied. Smoothly, Valentine rotated the heavy board with one hand, positioning it so the white marble pieces were closest to her - an invitation to go first, Jada knew. He was barely a few feet away, now, studying the game with enraptured focus. This close, she could pick up the faint, spicy notes of his cologne, fresh as spring air. After a moment of studying the board, she advanced a pawn and took a deep breath, wondering why she was noticing his cologne in the first place.
"A bit of an odd family name: Buonavento…" Valentine offered, keeping the conversation flowing. "Is it Italian?"
Jada tried to stop herself from smiling and failed. "You must be familiar with the language, to catch that little abnormality," she answered. "Apparently, the name was originally 'Buon Vento'. The sailor's greeting. Over time, I assume someone added in the 'a' after the first word for the auditory aesthetic. Unfortunately, the conjugation makes no sense."
Valentine seemed immersed.
"The sailors' greeting is it?" he added, advancing his pawn. "I grew up at the Morgenstern Manor, on the shores of Lake Lyn. My father was an avid sailor. Have you ever gone?"
"Sailing?" she echoed, eyeing the spread of the board. It was fascinating, she supposed, how natural small talk with Valentine was. She rarely found anyone smart enough to carry on an intelligent conversation with, in the first place, and she had not expected that level of eloquence from the Circle's infamous leader. "I grew up in Napoli, on the Amalfi coast," she continued. "You could say sailing is somewhat of a second nature… Although, it has been a few years since my last trip." Carefully, Jada moved her pawn diagonally to take one of his own black ones. "I suppose I should congratulate you. It is quite the fortress you've constructed here. The Wards circling this property look almost as formidable as the ones in Alicante."
There was a slightly prideful air to his smile now. He rested his head casually against his fist as he moved another dark pawn, looking pleased. "You are not wrong…"
"But I assume it must be rather tranquil, in a way," she offered, interested in how he might respond. "Avoiding the eyes of the world."
Valentine's expression darkened at that, settling in his statue-like features like shadow.
"'Tranquility' is a rather elusive emotion, I'm afraid," he replied. "'I feel no peace and all my war is done'..." Those black eyes darted upward to meet hers for a moment, then dropped instantly as he knowingly smirked. "It is a line from one of Thomas Wyatt's poems," he explained. "Forgive me, I assumed a tutor would have known."
Jada was not sure what that statement meant, but really did not appreciate his tone. Was he suspicious of her after only a few minutes? Everything seemed to point to Valentine being exceptionally cunning, but no man was that clairvoyant. He must have been using the comment as a probe - a way of judging her reaction to see if she was suspicious. Slowly, she forced her pulse to slow and tried not to let it affect her.
"I've never been a fan of poetry, unfortunately," she answered dismissively. "I find pandering emotion far less useful than proactive action."
Valentine threw his head back and laughed – a melodic, powerful sound that echoed against the wood-paneled walls.
"'Since in a net I seek to hold the wind'..." he recited absently, returning to their game. At her blank expression, he chuckled and added, "Another of Wyatt's poems... For someone so opposed to his work, you are surprisingly like his muse." Valentine placed his knight in a 'L', ready to take her bishop. His lips flickered into a smile. "You should read his work sometime. You may find his 'pandering emotion' entertaining if nothing else."
"If you insist." Jada pondered taking his knight then decided against it. She moved her rook, preparing to take his queen. Valentine seemed to read her strategy and narrowed his eyes at the board. He looked like he hadn't anticipated her move.
Jada fought the urge to smile. "I expect," she began instead, "that you brought me here for more than just small talk, Mr. Morgenstern."
"You are right," he confirmed. He thrummed his fingers on the desk, seemingly distracted. "As I am sure Martha divulged, I am in need of a tutor. Do you speak any languages?"
"All the romantics, of course. I am fluent Italian, Spanish, and French of course... The Italian and Spanish were from my father. The French was from my mother; we spoke all three at home."
He moved his queen to take her rook. "I did not know your mother was French."
Valentine was a tall man, Jada noticed absently. Even sitting in his office chair, he was nearly eye level with her. She snuck a curious glance at him through her dark eyelashes. Luckily, he was studying the chess board, his pale brows were furrowed in deep concentration. "Not many do," she replied, taking another pawn. "The Verlacs are notoriously prudish concerning my parents' marriage."
Valentine glanced up at the word 'Verlac', seeming intrigued.
Jada knew little about her mother's side of the family, except for their name and the power of their pedigree. Apparently, they had disowned her mother as soon as they learnt she had eloped with a man from lesser family. The Verlacs were a venerable Shadowhunter bloodline though, and that sort of thing never ceased to impress Circle members.
"Well-bred… charming… intelligent…" Valentine's voice trailed off. His dark focus moved from the chessboard to study Jada's face, his eyes burning with a strange, intelligent fire. With the light of the window behind him, Valentine seemed to glow, like the depictions of the Angel Raziel from Nephilim lore. "I must admit Miss Buonavento… you are very unlike how the rumors made you seem."
I suppose that makes the two of us, Jada snapped internally.
Valentine smiled, as if he had read the thought.
Jada, who was very much not in the habit of people reading her thoughts, scowled at her dwindling line of pawns. Something about the way his eyes searched her face made her patience run thin. She crossed her arms, irritably.
"Should I suppose that you were really looking for a tutor, then," she finally threw at him, "or were your motives entirely different?"
"My motives?" he echoed, sounding humored. There was an intelligent flash behind his jewel-black eyes and Jada knew she had been right. Valentine had summoned her for more than just this surface-level tutor arrangement. "I hope I have not given you any reason to distrust me, Miss Buonavento. I was rather hoping we could be friends."
An unlikely suggestion.
Jada tightened her arms, snapping her brown eyes up so she could glare at him. "You confuse distrust with a healthy measure of caution…" she replied, searching his face, "My trust is not freely given, Mr. Morgenstern. It is earned."
He smiled – apparently amused. "Fair enough. What, then, are you proposing?"
She paused at that, her gaze lingering over the gilded spine of one of the books to her left, far across the room. Suddenly, an idea came to her, and she turned back to the Circle leader, eyes blazing.
"You seem to enjoy games of strategy…" she offered, glancing at the chessboard. "I can only guess you brought me here for a reason. Since you seem to have so many questions for me, then I want some of mine answered as well. Give me an answer for an answer," she replied. Even to her own ears, her voice felt distant, pensive. "Something of mine for something of yours."
Light was catching his black irises – like hellfire on spinning clockwork. "That is all? An answer for an answer?"
"Assuming there is something you wanted to know from me, of course." Coyly, she tilted her head at him, searching for a response. "I'm allowing you to ask me anything in return. You can't say it isn't fair."
Valentine's eyes blazed brilliantly - calculating, analyzing, and dissecting the pros and cons of such an arrangement. She could see his eagerness to agree, side by side with his own rationality, drawing him to refuse. Finally, he let out a short sigh, and the tension in his shoulders relaxed.
"Unfortunately, some questions," he finally replied, carefully, "are not meant to be answered."
Jada airily shrugged.
"I suppose that is true…" She scanned him once over. "Let's add one condition, then. We can refuse to answer a single question of our choosing. Otherwise, all answers are compulsory. Does that settle your mind?"
There was a long moment where Valentine silently analyzed her face, his eyes pointed directly into hers. Her pulse was hammering expectantly, roaring in her ears like thunder, but she forced her body not to show it. After a minute, he opened his mouth, as if to speak, but he was abruptly cut short.
The door of the office slammed open, exposing a lump of a shadow framed by the intense hallway lighting.
"THIS," a shrill voice yelled, "IS AN OUTRAGE!"
A tiny figure stormed through the door, instantly capturing Jada's attention. It was a fair-haired little boy – likely eight or nine years old, wearing dirt-smeared pants, a black t-shirt, and a look of sullen betrayal.
Valentine seemed to recognize them immediately and looked incensed. "Jonathan Christopher –" he snapped.
Then Jada immediately recognized the name and stared.
Jonathan Christopher? Was it possible this was Valentine's son?
All reports had indicated that the boy had died. Burned to death in a fire at the Fairchild family manor. How was it possible that he lived?
Looking down at the little boy, it was hard to believe he wasn't Valentine's son. They shared the same handsome features – identical dark eyes and silver-white hair, the same superior resoluteness in their expressions… but for some reason, all Jada could think about as she stared down at the little boy, was her own little brother, Theo. If the two were side by side, there was no reason why she would have found them similar. One was all dark hair and bronzed skin, the other all pale, but there was something about the delicate wave to their hair, their similar age and build, the arrogant set of their jaws – that was strangely familiar. It drew her in an oddly familiar way.
Before she could think much more about it, Jada noticed Jonathan was towing a little girl along with him, squirming against him in the doorway. The girl was unexpected – Jada noted curiously. No reports had said anything about Valentine having a daughter. The girl looked about the same age, maybe a bit younger than Jonathan, with the wide sapphire eyes and long golden curls of a porcelain doll. She struggled against the boy's grip on her wrist, looking tortured.
"I TRIED TO STOP HIM!" she cried to Valentine, sounding close to tears. "PLEASE DON'T BE ANGRY WITH ME!"
Valentine sighed. Jada wanted to look at his face, to read his reaction – but to her dismay, she couldn't pry her eyes away from the little boy. He was looking betrayed as he took Jada in, sitting comfortably on the corner of his father's desk.
"So, it is true!" The boy murmured in horrified certainty. "First you bring this thing here," he accused, shaking the little girl's wrist, "now you are letting another one in?! HOW MANY MORE OF THEM DO YOU NEED!?"
Jada tried to fight down her initial reaction, to split apart the image of her little brother from the new boy standing in front of her - and failed. Taking a deep breath, she reigned in her expression and scanned him over from head to toe, with a glare as sharp as a razor blade.
"More of what, exactly?" she delicately inquired at no one in particular.
Jonathan sneered.
"Women, obviously," the little boy snapped. Jonathan spun to his father, refusing to let his gaze rest on her. "If you keep this up, they are going to outnumber us, Father!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the women. "Then what would happen to us!?"
Jada eyed Valentine with a sudden measure of suspicion. "Is bringing home women a bad habit of yours, Mr. Morgenstern?"
Valentine shot her an appalled look.
"Oh, Jonathan," came a wondered sigh, stealing Jada's attention. It was from the little girl now, her eyes suddenly dancing with wonder. "She is even prettier up close! You don't think she is an angel, do you?!"
Jonathan snorted and flicked the girl squarely on her forehead, stirring her golden curls as she winced. "Don't be stupid, Goldilocks," he sneered. "Everyone knows that angels are blonde."
Irritably rubbing his temples, Valentine sighed.
"Eve. Jonathan," he stated blankly, gaining control of the room. He waved a terse hand in her direction. "This is Miss Buonavento. She will be your tutor from now on."
"A tutor?!" the girl – Eve – cried gleefully. She looked like Christmas had come early. "From now on? Do you mean she will be staying here? That is wonderful –"
"DON'T ENCOURAGE HER!" Jonathan hissed, glowering at Eve. He suddenly turned back to Valentine, his black eyes wide and pleading. "Please reconsider, Father," he whined. "Was it something that I did? Am I being punished –?"
"I bet he saw what you did to the stables," Eve piped up sullenly, still trying (and failing) to wiggle out of Jonathan's vice grip. "I told you Martha would find out…"
"Oh?" Valentine's interest was suddenly piqued. His eyes flashed with a deadly light as he stared down his son. "And what did you do to the stables, precisely?"
At his words, both children stiffened, as if doused in ice water. Seconds later they were facing Valentine with matching expressions of wide-eyed horror - looking, for all the world, like they were staring down the barrel of a gun.
With a quick flick of his hand, Jonathan shoved Eve, rather savagely, out of the doorway and flashed an angelic smile as she crashed out of sight.
"Nothing, Father." Jonathan chimed smoothly. "I have no idea what she is talking about."
Valentine's eyes narrowed to an expression of barely concealed impatience. His dark gaze darted to Jada, as if planning his next move. But after a moment of careful calculation, he set his jaw and returned his attention back to his son. "We can discuss this later, Jonathan," he finally replied, leaning back into his armchair. "Besides," he added with a cruel flicker of a smirk. "I am sure you are very eager to get started."
"Started?" Jonathan looked completely confused. "With what?"
"With helping Martha give Miss Buonavento the tour of the Manor, of course." His smile widened. "It would be rude of you, to not properly welcome our honored guest."
"HONORED GUEST?!" the tiny boy demanded, staring dumbfounded at his father. "But – Why do I have to do it?!"
The exhaustion of the day had seemed to fry Jada's nerves.
"I don't think that was a question, Jonathan Morgenstern," she replied coolly. She crossed her legs, petulantly. "Listen to your father."
Jonathan snapped back at the reprimand, looking stunned.
Valentine, on the other hand, seemed unexpectedly pleased.
Frowning thoughtfully, Jada detached herself from Valentine's desk and sauntered past Jonathan's open-mouthed stare, her heels clicking rhythmically against the dark hardwood. She could feel Valentine's gaze on her, like some kind of phantom heat tracing a path down her spine. She tried to shake the feeling as she paused in the ornate doorway and failed miserably.
She turned to glance at him over her shoulder – but for some reason couldn't look the Circle leader directly in the eye.
"May we pick up our chess game some other time, Mr. Morgenstern?" she offered, lightly.
From across the room, she heard him crack a smile.
"Of course, Miss Buonavento," Valentine finally replied, waving her dismissal. "It would be my pleasure."
So? ... What did you think?!
I love little Eve and Jonathan I think they are so cute. 3
If you have any comments or suggestions, feel free to PM me or leave a review!
Love, Fishie.