Hola!

Now I'm going to keep this short mostly because I'm dead sure most of you who also read Love Isn't Optional probably want to repeatedly stab me with knives until I update, but I needed to get this up!

Anyways I know it's been so long since I've updated, but I promise there's a reason. High school? Bitch. Advanced classes? Bitch. Also I'm in two dance clubs, a writing class, an audition choir, JV comedy, Thespian honor society, and an alliance club. AKA= i barely have time to sleep anymore honestly. It's killing me, but I love all of these things so it's worth it! I hope you all understand! This will be a shorter chapter, but Jace makes an appearance!

Also I've been feeling pretty shitty lately because stress, so sorry if my writing is low quality. I promise I love you all !

Ya'll ready?

LEGGO.

I nervously clutch at the thin brown material further over my head, praying to the angel no more of my hair shows. Though I had gotten a set of clothes from Helen that do an excellent job of letting me morph into the crowd, part of me knows I have one of the most recognizable faces in the kingdom. So I keep my head as low as I can without crashing into somebody, disoriented by the throng of civilians that pass by. Valentine had kept me sheltered away from reality, and now I paying the price of my solitude. Yet as I look around the cobblestone streets filled with dozens of people who call to one another, part of me can't help but being mesmerized, astonished at how each individual seemed to share a beating heart in between each other. How everybody knew everybody and wasted no time in meeting the ones they didn't. It's astonishingly beautiful to me. I let my pace slow for a minute, taking my time to study the faces of each and every person that brushes past me, caught up in realizing how all are in their own universes, filled with their own problems and worries and woes. And how I had my own, yet everybody seemed to have a bigger hand in it than even I did.

The kingdom is much larger than I expected it to be. The stores and boutiques, street markets and stalls are all crowded and bright, displaying fruits, foods, clothing and weaponry that glow in the hot sun, calling to me and the large sack of gold I carry. It takes a considerable amount of self control to not purchase the spider silk scarf in the loveliest shade of blue, or the seraph blade she can have engraved. This money is for the seer, do not buy a dress. I chide myself, keeping my eyes focused on what I pray is still the right path. Simon had drilled the pathway into my head before I left this morning, though I know he was massively anxious about me even considering this. I can barely focus on anything else than the turns ahead, terrified of accidentally ending up in some shady alley- then again isn't that where I was going anyways? I murmur my short apologies when I crash into dozens of people on my reckless path, yet I refuse to let my hands release the hood. I can't risk being seen and followed- the news the Herondale queen is sneaking off to see a seer would not sit well with shadowhunters of all kingdoms. So I keep my head down as I round a corner that seems to lead away from the busiest parts of the kingdom. Fewer people roam the streets now and they all seem to be glancing around in suspicion, as if afraid of being spotted. I know I'm in the right place.

At the end of the cold and quiet alley is a tiny, ramshackle shed. Velvet purple paint peels off in dirty curls that reminds me of tears, covering warped and musty wood long since splintered. The entire tiny building looks like the place where parents would clutch the hands of their children tighter as they walk by. And I'm going into it- wonderful plan Clarissa.

My breath stutters slightly as I step close to the wood, wrinkling my nose at the pungent smell that seems to emanate from the wood. Knuckles white as I clutch the hood, I cringe at the creak as I rap my knuckles lightly against the side, afraid of the entire thing collapsing. No answer

A beat passes, and I decide breaking and entering isn't something you can get in trouble for when you're queen- right? I ignore the dirty feeling of the frayed curtain as I pull it aside, peering into the dimly lit inside. But the second I step into the deep black, candles flair up all around with a shocking hiss.

Biting back my gasp of surprise, my eyes widen as I take in the large entrance room lit by the flickering yellow right coming from waxy candles placed around the shelves. They sit next to clay pots that give off heady fragrances, glass vials too dirty to see through, and hundreds of other trinkets I won't dare touch for fear of becoming a toad. The room is also twice as big as it seems to be on the outside.

I'm in the right place.

My eyes focus on a dusty old chair stuffed in the corner, the gold paint almost gone. A pile of rags varying from deep gray to musky tan are piled atop of it. They are also laughing.

A shift, and I narrow my eyes at the image of a woman comes into place. The rags are strips of dirty clothing that drape the old crone, obscuring most of her aged figure. Yet as a head of aged white hair that seems on the verge of falling out is raised, I stifle a gasp. The skin is a sickly mixture of yellow and gray, thousands of aged folds in tired skin spotted with popped veins and two runes on each cheek. Runes I recognize from the archives of silent brothers, runes that would kill a normal shadowhunter upon application. A mouth that lets out the haunted laugh of a woman seen too much to have a sense of humor, revealing that her teeth are almost black- whatever teeth she had left that it. Yet the part that makes me want to run in the other direction are eyes that seemed to be filled with a white cream, swirling in a vortex that sings to me a song that makes me want to cover my ears and scream, more dangerous than a white hot seraph blade. Her body shakes with the frailty of her laugh, and though she seems to be 300 hundred years old, the power that resonates around the musty room reaches my core.

Her voice was like the chilling laugh in a dead man's smile, the sound of a thousand people screaming, and a million cold deaths of a forgotten person all combined into a gravelly tone that leaks out of her mouth in a whisper I can hear perfectly.

"I was awaiting your visit, little princess." Her milky orbs wanders around the room, not even focusing on anything. Her voice sucks the air from my throat, and I want to turn my frozen feet around and run all the way back to the castle. I don't move.

A rough cough gets my vocal chords working again, and I try my best to focus on her brow bone so I don't melt under those eyes. "Hello. My name is-"

"I know what your name is." She snaps. An edge of untempered flame creeps into her tone, and I refrain from flinching away. "And I also know what you want. Yet humor me- tell me why you think you're here."

I don't mention the fact she's convinced she knows my mind better than I do. Because she most likely does. "I need an answer to why I had a certain dream, Seer. I was hoping you could answer my questions."

A rough tsk gurgles out from her throat as she raises a single finger, tapping it jerkily against her temple twice. "Little princess, of course I know the answer to your questions. Whether I want to answer them or not- well I'm afraid that's a very different thing." A giggle was in her throat, and I narrow my eyes. I severely hope that she isn't actually mental.

"I assure you I'm in perfectly sound mind." i jerk back, and she throws her head back so violently I fear her neck will snap. Her laugh is raspy and old, but still terrifying in such a subtle way. "No need to worry, I haven't crept inside your mind yet. Though I can see it written all over your face like a child's book."

The word yet sticks to my mind. "If it isn't a bother, may we please get on with this- I'm in a hurry."

"Child, the art of truly seeing cannot be rushed. If you ask me of this, we do this on my terms little princess." Her voice takes on a dangerous tone, and I regret my haste. With the creaking of aged boned, her rattling hand clutching a splintered bamboo walking stick. The knob is shaped like a skull.

Once she hobbles out of her stuffed chair, I notice that she's a good head shorter than me, her back bowed and hunched grotesquely. She seems to be a living manifestation of a childlike nightmare, shaking parts of me to my core. A flick of her hand, and a tiny doorway that has a curtain of strung bamboo beads move aside with a rattle. She walks through, and I cautiously follow her deeper into the shack. Candles have lit in the extension room as well, revealing the shelves that have dozens of jars and herbs stacked upon them which give off a potent smell. It reminds me of eucalyptus.

A small, warped table sit's in the middle, two chairs facing each other. The Seer lowers herself into one with a huff, and I don't comment on the dust the flies into the yellow light. She looks up at me, and I have to focus on the particularly large liver spot on her left cheek. But her milky stare is still focused on me. "Sit, Little Princess, and show me what you have to offer."

I lower myself into the small straight-backed chair, praying it doesn't collapse. Fishing out a small leather pouch from a small pocket in Helen's clothes, I drop it onto the table with a large clunk. "Golden coins, enough to buy dresses made of finest silk if you wish, Seer."

A soft, raspy laugh. "I have no need for your pretty dresses. And it's Magnetia. My name is Magnetia." She stops for a moment, as if hearing her own name spoken into the air is strange to her

"Of course, Magnetia. Whatever you decide to do with it, am I to believe you're satisfied?" My voice is cool, detached. Knowing how easy it is for her to get inside my head and manipulate me into selling her the kingdom, I pray she doesn't notice the blush encroaching my cheeks.

A hand moves across the cracked wood and fingers the string on the pouch. I almost jerk back when I see her hands. Gnarled and twisted, they look similar to the typical hands of a severely aged woman, if it wasn't for her fingers. Longer than mine by double, she put pianists to shame. Yet they didn't have the eerie beauty, but instead made me grimace at the thought of the pain. They weren't natural. And I can't stand the idea of hearing the screams as her young hands were torn apart. They're the hands of an Iron Sister.

Magnetia's ruined hands still. I know she see's my blatant stare. She slowly draws the pouch to her body, her silent acceptance of my payment. "Do you know how seers came to be in this world, Princess." Her voice is suddenly softer than silk, the roughness disappearing into a croak. "We were young, normal shadowhunters at first. Bright futures. And then, we become an Iron Sister. It's painful, you know. When they twist our hands and break our bones to give us the gift of creation. I often wondered if it was worth it."

I can feel her stare burning into me, but I still don't look back. "And then we sin. I sinned child, bad. And they don't banish us. They don't take away our gift and cast us into shame- it's not enough for them. Instead they disfigure us more." My eyes are suddenly drawn to the two faded runes on each cheek, my earlier suspicions of their similarities to a silent brother's confirmed with a horrible sinking feeling. I want to scream, already knowing what Magnetia would say next.

"They aren't supposed to do it, you know. They say the pain it puts people through is unjust, too cruel even for torture. So my sisters didn't tell anybody." A shaking finger comes up and traces the mark on her left cheek, resembling a spiral with a cross through it. It's faded slightly, a pinkish red mark like a scar outlining it. "Instead they cornered me in the corners of the Adamant Citadel, and the flames in their eyes had never been flatter." Her voice is a whisper now, and I feel my building trepidation at her words. "They marked me. They marked me and whispered their silent chants they had been told by a silent brother. And then cast me out into the cold." Her hand flies down, and I flinch hard at the resonating smack and splinter.

"You think you know pain child? You know such thing until you're screaming in the snow outside the gates of your home, your particles ripping apart and sewing back together with mutated skin and a changed soul. I had to sneak into the gates of Idris, and since then I reside here. In this tiny shack, known as a recluse with a name never spoken, and a face never seen. Because if they see, if they see I'm alive, they'll kill me." A crooked, haunted smile tilts a side of her cracked white lips. "Though at this point, Little Princess, I wonder whether that would be as dreaded as I imagine."

A buzzing silence seems to settle over us, and I still don't focus on her eyes. Afraid of seeing the vibrancy in her misted over eyes I can sense that I feel will burn into my soul and never leave. "And with this pain, I have a curse of gifts you will never know. I can rip apart your soul and put it back together upside down until you're a ruined, sniveling piece of a girl. So don't doubt my abilities, for true seers are so few that you shall never see another one again in your pitifully short lifetime. Be glad I accept your mere offering."

I swallow thickly, a lump in my throat quickly blocking my words for a moment. "I truly am. I need to know what this dream meant."

"And you shall." Suddenly she's close to my face, soured breath washing over my face. "Now, look at me Little Princess."

Part of me wants to refuse, but I know that won't end well. So I reluctantly look straight into her glowing eyes. And I scream.

They pierce me, seeming to burrow into my mind while shooting white hot fire through my brains. I choke back a scream as I'm thrown back.

My painted nails scratch nervously against the stem of the dozen white roses in my cold hands. Oh Angel, had my heels always been this high? Has this dress always been so abnormally tight?

The light chatter of hundreds of people combined thunder in my ears as I stand stock still behind the doors, the doors that lead to my wedding ceremony. I shut my eyes tight against the fear and the apprehension, slowly prying my fingers off the bouquet enough to reach one back hand and grasp the air. Isabelle answers my silent plea, her slender hand grasping mine in an unspoken agreement. It calms me the slightest bit, knowing I chose the right maid of honor. Yes it was only a custom practiced in the religion of Christianity, but apparently I have one.

The light call of a wedding planner I've never seen before tells us to arrange ourselves. I numbly move myself into the place I've practiced dozens of times. Isabelle steps in front of me, her tall figure trumping mine even in heels.

Music starts up, the sound of piano and violins swelling beautifully and dramatically as Isabelle slips through the pale gold silk curtains before me, and I am left with air between my face and the curtains. Two maids are braced on either side of me, fingers grasping the edges and ready to pull them apart for my grand reveal. Grand reveal my ass, I'd probably trip on my first step down the aisle.

"It's time." The young maid on the left whispers. She smiles widely, right before they both on cue pull the curtains wide and reveal me." The gasp ripples throughout the massive audience, hundreds of eyes fixated on me. Yet I don't falter, swearing to myself to keep walking, to keep putting a foot in front of the other. Because at the end, underneath an arch of interwoven green vines and roses, is Jace.

He stands tall, his shadowhunter gear new and pristine and giving off a glow. He glows. But the knot in my stomach doesn't unfurl, not when I reach the altar, not when Jace lightly grasps my hand, not when I finally stand across from his tall figure. The silent brother's head is bowed for a moment, his hands still on the deep purple velvet pillow which two steles rested on. Like like helped the anxiety skyrocketing inside me right now.

The hooded head rises slowly, and a deep voice resonates throughout the huge crowd gathered to watch me marry Jace. It fills my head, like mist creeping through a morning field.

A whisper of thought drones in into my head, yet I feel as if it's muted. A dead buzz fills my thoughts for a few minutes, eyes locked with Jace's eyes. Yet his eyes are flat, yellow and uninterested. That's normal.

Jace grabs for the stele in haste, and I scramble to do the same. We wait until the cue from the brother, and then Jace reaches forward, and his stele touched right above my heart. I wait for the slight sting, but it doesn't come. What does come is fire.

My lips let loose a choked scream at the feel a thousand hot needles pricking my skin, all targeted at the point where the instrument touched my skin. My knees buckle and I fall to them, staring up at Jace, at his cold face that doesn't move at the sight of my pain, at the realization of my torture underneath his hand. Fire replaces my blood and fries my veins, but I can move, can't force my hands to uncurl from tight fists and knock the stele out of his hand. Everybody else is silent, deathly silent to provide no backdrop to my wails. The pain so excruciating I just wanted to die, I wanted to end it. The blood pours like a gruesome fountain, painting the front of my dress in crimson. I look down in horror, my last scream cutting off into a choked sob. The blood is the same color as my hair.

I look up, the sob stilling in my throat as I look up at Jace. His eyes are white, glowing brightly and filled with mist. And he's smiling.

WIth a gasp, I'm back in the ramshackle shed with the eucalyptus smell and Magnetia across from me. The chair rocks back on it's hind legs as my body jerks back, all the fire doused and leaving me drained. Cold sweat peppers my back, and the only sound is my gasping circling the air. Magnetia is smiling, the white eyes I saw on Jace staring at me now. It makes sense- she had observed my entire dream, forcing me to relive it.

"Ah, how interesting." She croons. I slump in on myself, shoulders shaking I can't stop picturing the blood on the dress, though Magnetia doesn't give me time to calm down. "Oh child, the answer is so simple, right in front of you."

Her bent fingers trace patterns on the dusty wood, and she seems unconcerned. A trickle of shame goes through me at her sardonic tone- was it that obvious? Or did the dream just mean nothing? Was this simply a lie for some gold?

"A blood deal." She whispers. I still my fidgeting, trying hard not to look into her eyes directly and let her delve into my mind once more. "With your marriage being burned onto your skin, a deal made with blood shall finally be completed."

I rack my brain, trying to figure out what sort of deal this is. "I- I don't understand. There was no deal in our marriage, it was just an arranged marriage."

Magnetia leans in, resting her elbows on the wood. "Little Princess, why was it arranged?" She hisses softly.

My mouth opens and closes, but no words fall out for a while. "My- my father-"

"Didn't give you a valid reason besides the fact he needed to get rid of you?" She suddenly stands, grumbling under her breath as she pushes the tattered shawl farther up her shoulders. "I swear, royal blood becomes less and less educated as these generations continue on. Anyways, if you want to figure out the meaning of your dream, I suggest asking your father who's blood he shed in the name of your marriage." She waves a batty old hand at me, and I feel like she has dismissed me. I numbly stand up, fastening the tie of my cloak a little tighter with shaking fingers. I slowly walk into the first room, almost to the curtain and the strip of light that shines through and makes the dust motes dance.

"Little Princess?" Her voice is suddenly solemn, and I turn reluctantly.

"Yes?"

Standing there, she seemed to age a hundred years. "We shall never see eachother again. My time is almost here, I can feel it coming in my yellowed bones. So for a parting message." She pauses, and her eyes are even more intense now. "You look just like your mother."

I jerk back so fast I almost fall over, and I look directly into her eyes. "How do you know my mother?" I demand, my voice rising with shrill anger. She doesn't answer. Just stares with those eyes that hold the key to a universe, so terrible it ruined her. In front of me stood one of the only true Seers in the entirety of the world, and I would never lay eyes on another one again. Magnetia simply turns, and begins her slow hobble back into the back room. I can chase after her, shake her by her frail shoulders and scream until she answered. Something in my soul tells me she won't.

My numb fingers clutch the curtain as I step back into the street, drawing the hood over my head. And all I can focus on is her last words to me.

You look just like your mother.

o.O.o.

Bones weary from the conversation with Magnetia, I shed the cloak and toss it onto the freshly made bed. Night had fallen almost immediately after I had arrived at the castle, and I shiver in the cold room with the lack of heating or the large fireplace that's cold. The room felt lonely, forlorn and dark despite the the bright lights. Jace is arriving in the morning according to Magnus, so I'm by myself for the next night. I drift over to the bathroom, letting down my thick hair and running my fingers through it. The clothes felt sticky with cold sweat and scratchy on my bare skin. Washing my face, I breathed deeply while trying to wrap my mind around everything that just happened. A blood deal. My marriage had been a blood deal. For whatever reason, Valentine had used me as some sort of compensation. A month ago I would have been so angry I'd rip every tapestry down from this castle and set them on fire. Yet somehow, I seemed indifferent. Slightly angry at Valentine using me? Obviously. Yet Jace- Jace is good. He's good for me.

I breathe in deeply, eyes closing at the thought of it all. Tonight it was just too much. Tonight, all I want to do is sleep.

Grabbing a black silk night slip, it feels amazingly liberating compared to the rough canvas of the cloak from today. For once I'm grateful Jace isn't here, so I can go back to my normal light sleepwear. Not that I felt so incredibly shy around him anymore, but I had a feeling I probably wouldn't end up sleeping much if he got his eyes on me.

I was walking to the bed and ready to collapse when I heard the pounding. I freeze, Identifying the sound as heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs, my pulse goes into overdrive. Who was coming up into the royal rooms so late that sounded like they were wearing military boots?

A pause, and I realize who ever it was is right outside my door. And then a slight knock. I hesitate, not sure whether to open it or not, but then curiosity wins out. I swing the door open and freeze.

Jace towers over me, and I want to jerk back in surprise. Nine days later, and his presence was as familiar to me as the back of my own hand, yet I'm still taken aback. His hair is slightly mussed, and i know he's been tugging at it. A shadow on his jaw reveals that he hasn't shaved in a few days, and the short stubble looks surprisingly good on him. His eyes are practically luminescent, golden and staring down at me. Even obviously tired and plagued with travel, every single particle of my body was drawing me to him.

I finally choke out an answer. "Jace? What are you doing here?" I stammer, though I don't really care. My eyes are too busy scanning him, my mind sighing in satisfaction after seeing him for the first time in nine 's doing the same, and I see the tensing in his muscles, as he looks over me.

"I got home early." His voice is deep and husky, and I missed the velvety tone. He steps closer to me, until his chest is flush with mine. I crane my neck up, eyes wide as all traces of fatigue vanish from my body. "And I'm so glad I did."

Narrowing my eyes I reach up and grab his face in between my hands and revel in the heat that flows into me. "Well are you just going to stand their like an idiot or are you going to kiss me?" I demand, my eyes focusing on his pouted lips.

I can feel his deep, rumbling laugh. "I missed you so damn much, Clarissa." He whispers my name, right before he brings his lips down to mine.

Haha I am so tired

I didn't sleep last night so I ended up accidentally taking a three hour nap, and now it's 2 AM and I'm putting this up. I'm so sorry for the delay, it's just that school is a lot right now. I love it though and honestly I'm managing, writing just has to be put on the side for now to make sure I don't get too stressed. It's been a draining week so I hope you guys understand :) . Also today has been an incredibly hard day for me and my family. A lot of you guys all know about the Paris terrorist attacks that happened today, and since I'm Muslim I know the fact there's going to be hundreds of American assholes who choose to blame my religion instead of focusing on helping the Parisians. So I've been freaking out all day and contacting all my family in the Middle East, here, and in Europe, because honestly whenever these things happen it puts us at the risk of crazy hate crimes. So to any of my brothers and sisters, please please please stay safe while we go through this. I just wanted to share this.

I love you all! Hope to see you again soon! (Also yes I repeated the dream section from the last chapter, I only changed the last sentence. It was on purpose I swear haha)

I hope you all have a wonderful day and get complimented by a cute person because you deserve it you cheesecakes :)

Love Madeline