Once Upon A Time
Chapter 10
3rd Person P.O.V
He can't stand the thought of her up there, no matter how selfish. She has the life she deserves now, he keeps reminding himself, stop being such a prick and be happy for her. But he can't. He can't be happy for her when her new life plan doesn't include him. His heart aches at the thought.
He isn't sure how it happened, but he is sure of when he finally knew. Knew that he loved her. The night when she'd forgiven him for killing the wolf, he knew that she was the one for him, but he had already had his suspicions about her and her past. It was why he didn't want her to come with them to the castle.
And now he knows he was right from the beginning. She is the lost princess. She will govern the Kingdom when King Valentine passes, and she will be expected to bring forth an heir.
His throat tightens and he has to fight back the burning behind his eyes. He can't live like this. He can't live without her.
Clary.
The simple sound of her name his mind is enough to make him dizzy and he almost trips as he goes towards the window and opens it wide, blasting his face with the cool night air.
Isabelle had asked him to go with her to the celebratory party for the princess's return, but of course he'd declined. Why should he pretend to be joyous for the arrival of the long lost Princess when really it is tearing him up from the inside out, like a piece of glass stuck within him.
In the distance, he can see the spires of the royal home. He can see movement within the windows and golden light pouring out the open palace door. He swears he can see a flash of red, but just as soon as it appeared, it was gone again.
She's driving him crazy.
The moon shines above him like a polished silver coin and he can't help but think about whether she is looking at the moon right now, thinking of him.
He pushes away the thought hastily, of course she isn't. She's probably chatting with the high class citizens of Idris right now, or dancing the night away with some prince who hopes to make her his Queen. Either way, she is definitely not thinking of him.
And why should she?
It is not as if he has made his intentions clear. He hasn't told her his feelings towards her or how her smile resembles the soft morning sun on a summer morning, or how her eyes when she laughs are enough to make his skin crawl and his knees weak, or how her hair in the breeze reminds him of a flickering flame: small, but carrying quite a bite.
He knows she is not some soft maiden waiting to be dominated by some egotistical man. He knows she is more than that. She is strong, and fierce, and passionate and everything a Queen should be.
And he is hopelessly in love with her, which is only going to bring him pain. He considers for a moment finding a girl to spend the night with, to get her out of his head, but the thought is quickly banished from his mind. He doesn't want to forget her, even if his only reminder is the pain that sticks into his heart like a sliver of ice, turning his blood cold.
The music floating through the streets sings in his ears and lures him outside. He stands in the doorway and looks on onto the people bustling about the streets.
People play music from just outside the book store across the street and set up in the middle of the honey-paved road is a table blanketed with flavoursome meats and treats.
He walks through the crowd, barely noticing the approving glances from various women, and towards the food table. Along the way, he trips over something and tumbles into a darkened corner and straight into someone. Or two someones.
Isabelle and a scrawny guy with messy brown hair and glasses stand before him, both looking rather flustered and glassy eyed.
"Isabelle? What are you doing here- oh. Oh." It clicks in his mind and he notices the way one of Isabelle's dress shoulders is half way down her arm and the boy's glasses are askew. Askew in a very suspicious way. "Uh, I'm just gonna, yeah." He says, leaving and almost tripping again. In a way, he's sort of happy that at least someone is having their love life going their way.
That is a lie. He hopes she eats the scrawny kid alive.
O~o~O
Clary P.O.V
"Seraphina?"
I turn around and see my father standing in the doorway of the balcony, his eyebrows downturned with worry.
"What are you doing out here? You'll catch your death." He says, taking me by the arm and leading me away from the stone railing.
I look once more up at the moon and wonder about Jace and how he is. Hopefully he's enjoying himself more than me. "I'm just tired is all." I answer, reluctantly glancing away from the white glare of the moon.
My father places his palm against my cheek and rubs his thumb across my cheekbone. "Go to your chambers dear, you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow." Before I can answer he leads me inside and directly into Jonathan's arms. "Jonathan, take Seraphina to her room please, she is very tired from her journey."
"I can only imagine," Jonathan answers, taking my arm and glancing down at me with black eyes. "Come, I will take you."
The moment we exit the ballroom, the heavy doors swinging shut behind us, all noise stops. It is only Jonathan and I now, our only companion his echoing footsteps, seeing as I'm barefoot. My stomach feels queasy and butterflies swirl and dive in my gut. "So, how long have you lived in Idris?"
"My whole life actually, I spend most of my time in the palace, and King Valentine has been like a second father to me since I was only small." He replies, a small smile playing across his lips.
"So you're a royal."
"What would make you think that?"
I shrug. "You said you've known my father since you were little. I assumed that meant you spent a lot of time here as a child, and somehow I doubt father would take in a commoner."
He nods, his head down. "Very observant. Yes, I am of royal blood, well, semi royal at least. My father is a Duke. It comes with its benefits." He glances towards me as if he is letting me in on some special secret and against my will I blush.
We stop outside a familiar door and Jonathan releases my arm to push open the door for me. "M'lady," He says.
"I do wish people would stop calling me that." I reply as I enter the room.
Inside is darkness, Eleanor must have doused the candles after I left, and the only illumination comes from a small pool of pale light coming in from the balcony doorway and the yellow light from the open door.
Jonathan slips inside the door right before it closes, cutting off most of the light.
"Jonathan, what are you-?" My words are cut short when his lips clash against mine. His mouth opens mine with bruising force and I end up with my back against the wall next to the door. He practically shoves his tongue down my throat and digs his fingers into my hips and the delicate fabric of the dress. He moans into my mouth, which pulls me out of my stupor and I try to push against him.
He doesn't get the message.
I decide to take desperate measures and bite down on his bottom lip. Hard.
He pulls away immediately with a small cry of pain. He stares at me with confusion in the dark, wiping a small trickle of blood that looks black in the lack of light. We're both breathing heavily and can still feel the place where his fingers dug into the tender skin on my hips.
"You're a bit feisty, aren't you?"
"What do you think you're doing?" I almost shriek.
"As your future husband, I have certain privileges. Your body being one of them." He explains easily, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Privileges?! I am not an object, I am not something you own! And I am certainly not your wife, I don't love you! I don't even know who you are!"
"I've told you this," He says, exasperated. "I'm Jonathan Morgenstern."
"There is a lot more to a person than their name."
"You act as if this is something new, surely you are not completely ignorant of the world. You did travel with those two men for days."
My blood runs cold and my words come out deadly calm. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
He strolls over to my bed and sits on its edge, running a hand through his pale hair. "Come now Seraphina, I'm not your father, I can connect the dots. You travelled with two men for quite a while. You are a maiden, they are men with certain needs that require fulfilling-"
"Alec is my friend. Jace is my... friend." The word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but Jonathan only looks frustrated.
"You've been promised to me since I was a child, and I always get what I want." He stands up from the bed and walks slowly towards me until I can feel his hot breath against my face. "Always."
To my relief, a knock comes from the other side of the door, followed by Eleanor's voice.
"Princess? Your father sent me to help you out of your gown."
Jonathan sends me a cold sneer, his black eyes saying this isn't over, before opening the door Eleanor, his easy smile back on his face. "I was just leaving." And with that he was gone.
"Come here, I'll help-"
"Go."
Eleanor tilts her head, her brow creasing. "Pardon?"
"Just go."
Eleanor reluctantly leaves, sending me worried looks.
When the door closes and am left alone, I fall onto the bed. That is when I start crying.