Chapter Twenty

Clary

"You're going to look perfect this evening, Clarissa," said Valentine in that annoyingly calm voice. "You will speak perfectly, behave perfectly, dance perfectly. You will be perfect."

Clary caught her father's eyes in the reflection of the mirror on her wall but didn't say anything. Her anger had effectively glued her mouth shut and she didn't have the nerve to pry her it apart and tell him how she really felt. Instead, she nodded curtly, wishing he would take it as a dismissal. She could have been so lucky.

"If you embarrass me, Clarissa, I will make sure your pay dearly," he continued. "This is the first time since the Reformation that the Clave and all the families will be gathered together. I won't have you acting like anything less than a Morgenstern. I can make your life much more unpleasant."

Bit of an empty threat, really, since you're forcing me to marry Jace just so you can control me, and you make my mom miserable. Clary breathed out loudly through her nose and slammed the brush she'd been using down rather hard on the sink before her.

"You think not?" Valentine guessed, smirking a little. "You think that I've already ruined your life completely?" He placed his hand on Clary's shoulder and spun her away from the mirror so she had to face him. "I have your friend, the vampire, you know; he's alright for now, but he need not remain that way. Would you like that, Clarissa? Would you like me to kill your friends?"

Clary felt her fingernails digging into her palm, but when Valentine took her chin and forced her to look up at him, she unstuck her teeth. "No."

"I'm glad you hear you developed some healthy respect for their skin," said Valentine conversationally. "Tonight, when Jace proposes to you, you will say yes, you will share a dance, and you will let the world see that you are in love, safe, and happy. You will let everyone know that you are happy with this new world. Because you are happy, Clarissa."

Clary felt his fingers tighten. "I am happy."

"Good girl," Valentine said softly. "You have two hours, be ready when I call for you." With unnecessary force, Valentine threw Clary back toward the sink and she tumbled into it. "You should remember that your friends' lives hang in the balance; none of this is about you."

Valentine left and Clary clutched the sink tighter, wanting to scream but keeping herself silent. It won't do to scream, it won't help one bit; just get your hair in place and the make-up on your face. It was like an order, over and over again, Get ready. Get ready. Get ready.

It didn't matter how many times she told herself that as Clary applied powder to her face, nothing could mask the truth: she was going to agree to marry Jace tonight and by doing so, surrender what little freedom she had left. Bound to Jace, she would have to do whatever Valentine said to keep him from harm, and bound to her, Jace would have no choice but to go along with Valentine's plans. Before, they had had some freedom, some ability to refuse, but now it seemed that she and Jace were bound as surely to Valentine's will as they were going to be to each other.

I love him and this is how it ends. Clary shuddered. The oaths that should have been made in love will be made in fear and desperation instead. When she looked into the mirror, Clary saw her pale face, painted with bright red lips, faint blush, and dark eyeliner. Once the oaths are made, there is no going back, there is no escaping this.

Would you want to go back?

It was an unsettling thought, Clary had to admit. She'd wanted to be with Jace as soon as she'd realized that she and Jace weren't siblings; her first thought had gone to finding him and being with him. Yes, Clary loved Jace, and yes, she wanted to be with him, but that didn't mean she wanted to have her father use that love to enslave her.

When she left the bathroom, the woman from the dress shop was waiting, the intimidating dress, clutched in her hands. She kept her face straight while the woman helped her into the underskirt, into the dress, and finally laced the strings in the back so tightly Clary had a hard time breathing. The woman hurried around Clary, straightening the skirt, muttering about her too-small hips, and then, to Clary's shock, poked her hard in her rib cage.

"Fix your bust, the dress isn't sitting right." When Clary stared, confused, the woman sighed loudly. "You need to push yourself up."

Blushing furiously, Clary turned away from the woman and reached down her dress to carefully readjust herself. As soon as she'd done it, though, the woman took advantage of more freed space to pull the laces even tighter. She caught sight of Clary's wide eyes and gave her an unhelpful look.

"You need to look your best this evening," she warned. "Beauty can be painful."

Clary frowned, looking down at the many layers of skirts and stitches and ruffs that now hid her body. She would indeed look beautiful as she went to her doom with Jace this evening, but there were too many people whose lives hung in the balance now.

If this is the only way, it's the only way.

Jace

"The Morgenstern ring, resized for my daughter's finger," Valentine said casually, passing the ring to Jace. "During dinner I will call for silence and you will propose. Is that understood?"

Jace, leaned back in his chair, his fingers closing over the ring, and he glared up at Valentine who was standing before the fire, sipping a snifter of scotch. He felt a very real, very unnatural anger that was making his hands shake. "Yes."

"Jace…" said Valentine, and Jace heard a note of sympathy in his voice. He looked up, surprised. "I know that the prospect of marrying my daughter is as unappealing to you as she is to me, but I-"

"Stop that!" Jace snarled, the anger returning. "Stop saying things like that."

"Like what?" asked Valentine around a smile.

"Like she's not human," Jace hissed. "She's your daughter."

"I didn't want her," said Valentine conversationally. "The best she thing she'll do with her life is marry you, effectively making you mine and Jocelyn's son. Aside from that, she's nothing but a waste of my time."

Jace's cheeks flushed. "She deserves better than you."

"You mean her werewolf?" Valentine sneered, and he sipped his drink. "You're right, she deserves that. If only she were Lucian's daughter, I could have killed her-"

"Be quiet," Jace ordered, and he launched himself to his feet, glowering. "Just shut up."

"Careful, Jace," Valentine said, but he was smiling indulgently. "I might have to hurt you if you keep on like that. Now, come here, let me see that you're quite ready for this evening."

Jace wanted more than anything to just to turn in his heel and stalk off to his room, but those grey eyes were telling him that if he did, he's regret it. Instead, he pocketed the ring and stomped over to Valentine, hating the fact that he had to look up to meet his eyes. Valentine looked over him, over the black pants, the black suit coat, the white shirt with the gold tailoring of runes around the neck, and the way his hair fell into his burning eyes. Valentine reached out for his face and Jace flinched against his will. When Valentine only twisted one finger around a stray piece of Jace's hair, he blushed.

"You're hair is a bit long, Jace, take your coat off." Jace looked confused and Valentine jerked him forward by his hair and then wrestled him out of his coat. He flicked out a stele and held Jace by the back of his neck while he sawed off some of the longer pieces of his hair.

"Lemme go," Jace ground out as he struggled about.

"Try using your big boy words, Jace," Valentine said, enjoying Jace's discomfort, and he finished his hair cut. Jace tugged and Valentine let him go so he fell backward.

Why can't you act like an adult whenever you're around Valentine? Jace asked himself bitterly, snatching his coat away from Valentine and using more force than necessary to shove his arms in the sleeves. When he caught sight of himself in the darkened windows, he noticed, just to add to his frustration, that Valentine had cut his hair in the same way Maryse would.

"You look good, Jace," Valentine said, lifted his glass in a toast, and drained the rest of it.

Jace stood there, feeling like a piece of art Valentine had recently acquired and was appraising. He hated the feeling. "Where's Clary?"

"She's coming shortly. My, Jace, you look handsome, don't you?" Jocelyn came sweeping into the sitting room, and Jace was shocked by how very stunning she was. She was dressed all in gold and white, with a skirt so wide she had to take the door carefully. The bodice had been taken in tightly, drawing an inordinate amount of attention to her breasts, and there was a pattern of white runes stitched in the hem and around the plunging neckline. Jocelyn's hair was piled on her head, pinned back with jeweled combs, and a few choice pieces fell, framing her very green eyes. It was those eyes that flicked over Jace.

"Thank you," Jace said after a beat.

Jocelyn came swished over to him, and, as always, drew him away from Valentine and into her protection. She held his chin in her firm grip. "No matter how much gold I wear, Valentine, Jace will always outshine me, I think." She smiled kindly and kissed his cheek.

"I don't think so," Valentine said in a soft, confidential voice. "I think you are the loveliest thing."

"I'm sure Jace will disagree when he sees Clary," Jocelyn laughed, and then rustled his hair. "She looks like an angel."

"One can only hope," said Valentine in a less than warm voice. "If she looks anything like you, I think Jace will have to keep the other men away."

"I'll be more than happy to," said Jace, and he meant it.

"Well, I'll have to steal one dance." It was Jonathan, and when Jace turned to glare, he saw that Clary was on his arm, carefully descending the stairs of their house.

Jace hurried out of the room, Jocelyn's giggle following him, and stood at the foot of the stair impatiently. Jocelyn didn't lie, Jace thought at Clary took the stairs one at a time. She's an angel. My angel.

Though she hated dresses terribly, Jace couldn't deny that she looked different in them. The gown she'd probably been forced into was moss green and with many layers and knots, and an interesting pattern of silver roses in the bodice; the top was a corset, and Jace's eyes couldn't miss the plunging neck line over her very noticeable bust. He caught himself after a moment, blinked, then looked up at her face. She was pale, and he knew it wasn't the make-up, but with green eyes that stared out of her face like two perfect emeralds set in snow. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, but pieces had sprung free in their usual way, and Jace found it slightly touching, like seeing the girl he once knew in New York. She caught his eye and a little of the nervousness left her.

At the foot of the stairs, Jace swallowed. "You look…amazing, Clary."

Clary smiled uncertainly. "Thanks."

Jace reached out for her but Jonathan cleared his throat. "I think I'll take my sister through to my parents."

"I'm going to be proposing," Jace growled, remembering some of the conversation he and Jonathan had had before. "How about I take Clary off your hands?"

Jonathan smiled like a razor and then pulled Clary, against her will, closer to his side. "I think not, little brother."

Before Jace could find a reason to take Clary, Jonathan gave Clary a hard tug and she stumbled after him, looking frantically back at Jace. Jace hurried after them into the sitting room, and saw that Valentine was holding Jocelyn close to his side, whispering in her ear. When the three entered, Jocelyn smiled widely, looking up at Valentine.

"Isn't your daughter beautiful?"

Valentine clamped his teeth together, forcing his lips up into a smile. "Why, Clarissa, you are an angel come to earth. Where have you been hiding all this time?"

Clary tried to move away from Jonathan toward Jace, but Jonathan clamped his hand down on her waist and Valentine smirked at the sight. "I guess it just takes Jace to bring the best out in me."

"Good thing we're keeping him around," chuckled Valentine. "Jonathan, you can help your sister into the ball, and I'll ask you to be her chaperone until Jace makes his announcement."

"I'd be happy to," Jonathan said with a sly smile, and he bent over and kissed Clary on the cheek.

Take your hands off her, Jace thought furiously. Stop touching her, stop speaking to her, stop looking at her. When Jonathan looked away from Clary, his eyes met Jace's, and there was a smug, sneering light in them that Jace couldn't mistake. You think you've won.

Valentine kissed Jocelyn chastely on the lips and then carefully set her hand in the crook of his arm. "Shall we make our way?" Jocelyn bowed her head graciously and they moved toward the hall. As they reached the door, Valentine glanced about and called over to Jace in a rather patronizing voice. "Jace, do get the door. How are we supposed to get through waiting here all night for you?"

Jace flushed and bit his lip to stop any rude words spilling out. I'm not your servant.

OPEN THE DOOR, a very loud, painful voice commanded in his head.

Jace stalked around Valentine and threw open the door so it banged against the wall. He earned himself a disparaging look from Valentine, but when Clary passed, she met his eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. Jace followed the rest of the Morgensterns out of the house and to their waiting carriage, and climbed up last, taking the only open seat by Jonathan.

As they went, Valentine spoke mostly to Jocelyn, and her attention was diverted from Jonathan, who was using his superior strength to crush Clary's small hand in his own. She was biting her lip, stopping herself from whimpering, but Jace saw what was happening and kept shooting dangerous glares at him. Jonathan seemed to be enjoying himself regardless of what Jace did.

When the carriage came to a short stop, Jace felt a small nervous flutter in his chest. Once the evening started, it ended with him being engaged to Clary; there was no way out now. Automatically, he jumped down and opened the door, helping Jocelyn out. To his surprise, she drew him to her side before Valentine could snap more orders at him.

"Let him walk with me, dear," she said absently to Valentine. When he raised his eyebrow, she smiled. "Jace is my son and I just want to remind everyone."

"I suppose," Valentine hedged.

Jocelyn winked at Jace at the same time Valentine's voice, magnified, shook through him. BEHAVE YOURSELF. Jace flinched, it had been so loud, and Jocelyn looking concerned, drew him closer to her so she could speak into his ear.

"Are you alright, Jace?" she asked gently. "Did Valentine hurt you?"

"No," he shrugged, giving himself a small, sobering shake. "No, I'm fine. When will I be…proposing? I want to get Clary away from Jonathan."

Though Jocelyn didn't look back at her children, Jace saw her eyes tighten. "As soon as dinner finishes, before we have music and dancing. Why?"

"I just don't like him around her," Jace murmured as they made their way toward a large crowd of milling shadowhunters.

Jace would have said more, but at that moment, they were engulfed by the waiting spectators. Valentine, both tall and broad chested, could cut a path for them through the many shadowhunters, all of whom were speaking loudly and approvingly. He saw faces he didn't know, eyes staring back at him curiously, for he was surely not part of the Morgenstern family. There were children milling about their parent's legs, watching him with a look of wonder on their faces, and shadowhunters his age, eyeing him with dislike. There were men, dressed in suits with runes peeking out here and there, women in long, flowing gowns, their arms cleared of all but the most permanent runes. In the press of the crowd, Jace suddenly longed for air, thinking longingly of the garden on the top of the Institute in New York.

I wonder whose looking after it now, Jace thought. Surely the Lightwoods are here somewhere.

But the thought hurt too much and Jace forced himself to continue navigating the walk through the shadowhunters. When they finally reached the stairs to the Accords Hall, he took a deep breath, feeling a touch of wind on his face. Many faces turned to him, but he looked away, his eyes finding Clary, who looked pale in the light of moon and stars. Valentine came up beside Jocelyn then, separating her from Jace, and opened the door to the Accords Hall.

It was beautiful inside, breathtaking, really. Thousands upon thousands of candles had been lit, dousing the room in a soft, buttery light. The floor gleams and shone, the windows looked out into the dark like voids in space, and all around was music. Jace, who rarely visited the place, checked on the spot. It was the finest Alicante had to offer, the finest Idris had to offer, possibly, the finest the world had to offer, and here he was, standing on the brink of it all.

For a fleeting moment, Jace saw a future for himself where this would be his home. If he joined Valentine, if he conceded his will and swore allegiance, he would be one of the few who would walk these halls, welcomed and honored. This world could be changed to fit his desire, and this place he dreamed of so often and with such passion would be open to him.

And what of Clary? Of Alec and Isabelle? What about all those people who lost their lives to Valentine and Jonathan?

…Max?

Max was what did it, truly. Jace knew he would never rest, could never be at peace, until the people who had killed his little brother were dead. There was simply no other way around it. He would have to fight.

"It's a pleasure seeing you, Jocelyn, and after so many years!" a woman Jace didn't know said in a surprised voice. He turned about just as the conversation turned to him. "And who are these three charming children?"

Jocelyn smiled even though Jace caught Valentine's grimace. "Well, these two here are mine, Jonathan, my oldest son, and Clary, my daughter." She presented them with a flourish, and the woman eyed Clary closely. "She's the mirror image of you. And who is this handsome young man?"

Jace felt a few pairs of curious eyes on him now. Yes, who is this mysterious boy with no name, no family, and no past? Jace amused himself. A ghost? A pretender? Worse?

"My ward," Valentine answered smoothly, and Jace felt his large hand on his shoulder. "This is Jace."

No family name, no connection to anyone but you. I could have been made of thin air, thought Jace ruefully, but he chose a fleeting, satisfied smile that seemed to please Valentine. "Valentine raised me after my parents passed away," Jace supplied.

"How very fortunate," the woman said, stilling looking him over carefully. "I thought I had seen you before."

"During my father's absence, I was sent to live with the Lightwoods," Jace said helpfully. "You probably saw me with Robert or Maryse."

"Of course. Well, Valentine, Jocelyn, I commend you on such lovely children. I suppose you'll have your eyes out, Valentine, this evening where your daughter is concerned? There are plenty of young men who would favor her with a dance."

Ha! Valentine would as much guard Clary as he would save her from a demon. Jace noticed that the woman seemed to be standing before a young man, a few years older than him, who was looking Clary over. As for other men, they'll have me to deal with.

"If she's anything like her mother I'm sure they'll be clamoring for her attention. But," and here, Jace caught the note of secrecy in his voice, "I'm sure her brother will be more than happy to steer her in the right direction. I trust him to make sure only the right young men will be in her company."

Jonathan, smiling charmingly, cocked a look Jace's way when no one was watching. "Only the best, for little Clarissa," Jonathan said.

Unfortunately, Jonathan had decided to obey his father's orders with gusto, and could be seen walking Clary about, Jace tailing them. Though Jace could see Clary looking slightly disgusted by her proximity to Jonathan, it gave Jace the opportunity he needed to search the room for familiar faces. What he saw for the most part were people dressed in too much clothing and jewels, but here and there he saw a face of someone that stirred a memory, mostly distant relations or friends of the Lightwoods who had come to the Institute before.

Did you really expect to see Alec or Isabelle? Jace asked himself contritely as a pretty young woman tried to engage him in conversation. Valentine would be sure to keep you as far apart as possible.

Ahead of him, Jonathan bent to whisper something in Clary's ear and she pulled away from him, looking furious and annoyed. Jace hastened forward. "Sharing secrets?" he hissed at Jonathan.

"Jace, just the man I was looking for. Why don't you run and fetch me a glass of wine?" His look was smug and taunting, but Jace rolled his eyes.

"Scared you'll lose your way in the big crowd?" he returned. "Need Daddy to hold your hand?"

Clary, in Jonathan grip, squirmed when he squeezed her hand unnecessarily hard. "Careful, little brother, I would hate to have to embarrass you before all these people."

Jace blinked once. "Well, we wouldn't want that." The sarcasm in Jace's voice seemed almost palpable. "Let Clary go."

"I've been charged with her care," said Jonathan, drawing her against his side and wrapped an arm about her waist. "Have to keep her in good company, don't I? You, you little, angel freak, are certainly not the company I would wish for me sister. You have such poor friends as is." When Jace opened his mouth to argue, Jonathan spoke over him. "Or should I say, you did have such poor friends? I certainly don't see any now." Jonathan looked around, pretending to search for the Lightwoods. "The only people you have anymore is Clary and me, so you better remember that."

He's just trying to make you miserable because you get Clary. Jace glanced up into Clary's face. You have Clary and he has nothing. Don't let him get to you.

"Now, about that drink-"

"I'll get it," snapped Clary, tugging about until, fearing a scene, Jonathan let her go. As she passed by Jace, she paused and offered her hand. Jace winked at Jonathan before taking Clary's hand, tucking in the crook of his arm, and leading her away through the crowd.

Away from Jonathan, Jace breathed a sigh of relief and could finally take the time to really appreciate the girl he was going to be proposing to that night. She seemed nervous, a little scared, but there was still the determined tilt to her chin and a blazing light in her eyes that told him she was stronger than her father made her out. She stopped walking, worrying her lip, and Jace couldn't help his eyes from slipping down from her face to the inviting dip in her dress.

Stop it, Jace, he ordered himself firmly. You think Jocelyn is going to like you if she knows you're thinking about her daughter like that? Still, Jace spared her another appreciative look.

"What's wrong?" Clary asked, her big eyes turned on Jace. "Did Jonathan leave marks on me or something?" She looked down self-consciously, brushing her hands over her dress and arms.

Jace wanted to laugh, the thought that Clary looked anything less than perfect. "You're fine, Clary," he breathed. "I just-just couldn't stand Jonathan holding you anymore."

Clary's fingers pinched the inside of her arm. "Well, maybe he's just-"

"No," said Jace, guessing what Clary was thinking. "No, he and I spoke. You were right, Clary, he…wants you. He told me." Jace stared at her hungrily. "If he comes anywhere near you again I'm going to-"

"Where's Jonathan?" asked a sharp voice.

Jace automatically pulled Clary to his side as he turned about to face Valentine. "He must have gone to get drinks. I found Clary quite alone."

Valentine's eyes, shining brightly, told Jace he didn't believe a word of the lie. "Dinner is starting soon. You two will be sitting at the head table with myself, Jocelyn, and Jonathan. You have the ring, Jace?"

"Yes," Jace muttered, and Clary's face registered the surprise.

"Well, keep your wits about you, will you? And take my daughter up to the table." Valentine turned his eyes now on Clary and Jace wanted to hide her. "You are going to behave, Clarissa, and when Jace asks you to marry him, you will say yes."

"Alright," Clary sighed, but when Valentine's eyes flamed at her insolence, Jace spoke loudly.

"Right, Clary, well how about I take you up to the table? It sounds like our dinner will be served soon." Jace smiled around at the few people who had glanced over at the sound of his voice.

"I'm starving," said Clary slowly and allowed Jace to lead her away from her father. "I hate him. I hate the way he stalks around, waiting to pounce on us like some animal."

"It'll be over soon enough," Jace murmured in her ear. His close proximity to Clary earned her some ugly looks from women around them but Jace only scowled at them. "We just need to get through this night; there'll be dinner, talking, our proposal, and dancing."

"Dancing," Clary muttered.

"Just hold on to me tightly," Jace whispered, smiling wickedly.

"I'll stick like a burr," Clary giggled and they approached the table and Jocelyn came into view.

"Have you two been having fun?" she asked, smiling sardonically. Before Clary could open her mouth to complain, Jocelyn said, "I know it's a bit boring, talking to Valentine's friends, but people want to meet you. They want to know Valentine's family, see the man behind the leader."

"Well, I hope they're getting a good, long look," Clary growled.

"Sit here, sweetie," Jocelyn said, gesturing at a seat beside hers. "Jonathan will sit on your father's left, I'll be on his right, and you two will be on my right."

"Good," Clary snapped. "The farther the better."

Jace pressed down a smile at her indignation and led her to a seat while a bell was rung and the crowds took their seats. As the room cleared around them, Valentine and Jonathan came strolling down the middle of the room, looking smug and pleased. They reached the table and Jocelyn rose up and allowed Valentine to kiss her hand before he joined him. Jonathan, as he passed by Clary and Jace, elbowed Jace painfully in his back right between his shoulders. Jace gasped loudly enough for Clary to peek over at him, but he stopped before anyone else took notice.

"I would like to thank all of you," proclaimed Valentine, holding Jocelyn against him with one arm and gesturing to the crowd with the other, "for joining me and my family this evening. We are honored that you would dine with us, celebrate with us, and come together to bring in the new age of the Clave." There was polite applause. "After the meal we would like to ask you all to stay and celebrate into the night."

Jace noticed that while some of the shadowhunters looked uncomfortable, and were clearly there against their will, many of them looked oddly pleased. It seemed that they felt they had struggled and fought and earned this night, and they very much supported Valentine.

We're in a pit of snakes. None of these people are going to offer us any help. Beside him, Clary was shaking. Don't be scared, Clary, don't be scared. I won't let any of these people hurt you.

Valentine had taken his seat and people were serving food. For a fleeting moment, Jace wondered if he might see Maryse or Robert, but the staff was just faceless workers. Plates, piled with food, were placed before them and Jace's stomach lurched; he hadn't eaten in a few days.

Throughout the meal, Jace was fingering the ring in his pocket, thinking over how best to get through his speech. It wasn't that he didn't love Clary, but he had had no intention of telling everyone in Alicante that he loved her. He would sneak peeks at Clary throughout the meal, chewing her food slowly and stealing glances at the rest of the room. Again, Jace's eyes traveled to her face and neckline, and he noticed that her pulse was rapid; if he was nervous, she must have been sick with it. Once in a while, he would catch Valentine watching him and he could almost hear the threat he was getting.

Swallow your pride, get the ring and propose; if you don't, I'll destroy everything you love. Jace smirked all the same. I always perform well under pressure.

Before he knew what was happening, before he knew that the meal was over, Valentine was pushing his plate forward and finishing off the last of the wine in his glass. He murmured something to Jocelyn, brushed a kiss on her lip, and then caught Jace's eye. His throat closed.

I'm sorry, Clary, I'm so sorry about what I have to do. I want you to be happy, I want you to be safe, but I didn't want this…

Jace cleared his throat and Valentine politely tapped on his wine glass, drawing the attention of everyone around him. Jace stood and smiled around at everyone; Clary inhaled too sharply and shuddered. "Good evening, everyone. I don't know how many of you know me. My name is Jace-" for one horrible moment Jace realized that he didn't know his last name. Valentine had never told him. "-Lightwood. Jace Lightwood, and this man, Valentine, is my adoptive father."

The majority of the people in the room knew his story so there was no point in correcting himself. "After the Reformation, I was fortunate enough for him to find me, and he brought me to live with him and his generous family." A few people smiled at him like he was some sweet, lost boy. "But, by some miraculous chance, I met his daughter months before, and I fell in love."

He smiled down on Clary proudly and she gazed up at him, her face clear and open. "I'd never felt so complete around someone, I'd never met someone who made me feel so whole and so…loved. I would have followed her anywhere-I did-" he laughed. "Into vampire nests, werewolf packs, in and out of war, I trailed her like a lost puppy." Everyone in the room laughed. "But…but when I followed her back to her family, back to Valentine and Jocelyn, I was terrified. They took me in, they made me their son, they gave me a home when I had none, but Clary was their daughter." Here Jace smiled sheepishly at Valentine who raised his eyebrows playfully and Jocelyn who graced him with her usual calm look.

"I was sick with the thought of it. I loved her, but how could I ask Valentine if I could marry his daughter?" His hand moved against his will, taking Clary's in his. "It wasn't fair to Clary, I realized, for me to be too much of a coward to ask her father if I could marry her. I expected more of me; she expected more of me." Jace winked at Clary who was now fighting a smile. "Well, I count myself a bit more than a coward. I asked Valentine if I could marry her, and so my surprise…he said yes."

There was more applause, laughing, cheering. Jace wished each and every one of them an eternity in hell. He looked out at them, shaking his hands, asking for silence. "Without further ado, I ask you, Clarissa Morgenstern, will you marry me?" He produced the Morgenstern ring and held it out to her, a gentle pleading look.

The audience had fallen silent, holding their breath. Clary looked from the ring to Jace's face and then back again. She flashed a smile, uncertain but unafraid. "Yes, Jace Lightwood, I'll marry you."

Jace slid the ring on her finger to more applause and helped Clary up to her feet so he could kiss her chastely on the lips. When Jace pulled back, he saw only Clary's face, looking as beautiful as ever, and a small part of him roared victoriously: she was his. But when he turned back to face the cheering people, the roar shriveled and his stomach plummeted.

There, staring at him with an expression half horror half desperate longing was Alec Lightwood and at his side, Isabelle.