The music room is exactly the same.
My fingers gently brush over the lid of the baby grand piano, a faint smile tilting my lips at the thought of teaching Simons clumsy fingers how to peddle out a melody. He still didn't know much besides Carol of the Bells.

"Ma'dam?"

I turn lightly on my feet, Simon himself lingering in the doorway. I hadn't seen much of him since Jonathan, the soft lines of his face and the curious gleam in his coffee brown eyes evoking a familiar, warm feeling in me. I really did miss him.

"Hello Simon." I greet softly, drifting away from the piano. He takes a step towards me, a bit more confidence in the set of his shoulders. His eyes fall on the travel cloak gently clasped around my throat.

"Good morning, ma'am. I saw the maids loading trunks into carriage, and I wondered…" My silence is enough of an answer. His shoulders slump, something akin to woe flashing across his face. "In that case, I came to say goodbye."

I hesitate for a moment, wondering if he would freak out if I hugged him. I decide I don't care.

He stumbles for a moment as I fling my arms around him, grasping on tight to the soft shirt he wears. Simon hesitates for a minute before gingerly hugging me back, obviously thrown. I just smile.

Disengaged himself from me and holding me at arm's length, a disbelieving laugh bubbles from his throat. "May I speak freely?"

I just raise my brows. "You've always been able to."

He shakes his head, a warm smile on his face. "By the angel, you're the strangest queen I've ever met."

I open my mouth, presumably in protest. But I just let if fall shut, unable to deny it. "Take care of yourself Simon." I plea softly, reaching out and grasping his fingers. I scan his soft face, the light definition of his jaw and his olive skin, the shy smile it had taken me forever to get out of him. Such a good man, such a good heart. I'll miss it.

He returns the pressure. "And you as well."

With those parting words, I travel down the hall, leaving Simon standing there. Right before I start down the winding stairs to the rest of the castle, I swear I hear the first four notes of Carol of the Bells.

My eyes skim over the high stone walls of the corridor, threads of silvery admas veined throughout. The faded tapestries are as beautiful as ever, draping the banisters and gleaming with old pride, bouncing the sound of my feet padding softly against the stone floor back at me. I pass by the sewing room, and the half cracked door beckons. Hesitating for a brief moment, I push open the heavy door and peek inside. Agatha is there, sitting at the large sewing table with lined hands smoothing over a piece of gray fabric. I wish I would be able to see the magic she'd create out of it.

I rap my knuckles against the wood, warning her of my presence. Her head shoots up, blue eyes brightening as I walk into the soft pink room. "Mad'am Clarissa!" She greets me, standing up carefully as I drift closer. The familiar feeling of being surrounded by yards upon yards of different cloth welcomes me, and I can't help but glance at the podium where I stood wearing my wedding dress a few weeks ago. My heart hurts.

Agatha's voice is quiet, kind. "Is it true?"

She doesn't have to say much more. I nod quietly, twisting my hands like a small child. I always felt so young around Agatha, around the gravity in her eyes and the secret to her smile. She's a wonderful woman.

"Oh, my darling ma'am, I'm going to miss you." She glances away, her gaze running over the pink sewing room with weariness. "So few people visited me. Of course madame Celine did, bless her heart. But it's so lonely here. So achingly lonely."

I reached out, squeezing her rough hands in earnest. "Celine will be well soon, and I know she won't have forgotten you. She's back home."

Agatha's blue eyes twinkle, as they had been since she first hear the news. "And you brought her back to us. And for that, not one person under the Herondale crown can thank you enough."

"No," I say softly. "Thank you." She's human, but born with the Sight. Not too common, and most families with this gift turned into maids for the wealthy of Idris, if not driven insane on the streets of the mundane world for the demons they could see. She was lucky to work under a kinder establishment, but I shudder at the thought of what terrors some faced. Young pretty girls brought up in dark houses with rich lords and idle hands. Thank the angel for this castle.

I'm struck with a fierce protectiveness suddenly, an aching for the bliss in my mind that vanished ever since Jonathan died. "Agatha, I know you're allowed minimal cloth to make your own clothes. I don't want you to worry about that anymore. Use as much of any material you want and make yourself the most beautiful dresses you can."

Her soft gasp is shaky, eyes alarmed at my sudden statement. "Ma'dam, I simply cannot! It is not the place of a maid to demand-"

I silence her with a look, kind but firm. "You are not asking for anything, but I am giving. This is my gift to you for all the hard work you did on my dress, it's a shame I won't wear it. Please, all I ask in return is that occasionally you make new clothes for Helen and Maia, they deserve them. Don't worry, I'll arrange to pay for whatever you use. Please, please take this." I push, unyielding. I wonder if Jocelyn would have done the same thing.

She studies me for a moment, and I want to turn away. I feel as if she knows too much, simply by looking. And instead of the protest I'm expecting for her to repeat, she surprises me yet again. "That kindness, ma'dam? Don't lose it. Don't let the crown take it from you. Hold onto it for the rest of your life. Hold it dearly, for few have it. But you do."

My mouth is slightly open, the fierceness burning her tone completely new to me. I'm too speechless to respond, but she doesn't give me the chance.

"I have something to show you." Letting go of the fingers she still grasps, she turns and walks towards the large rack near the back, dozens of garment bags hung and waiting to be worn. Her fingers skim the hangars with familiarity, picking out a rather large gray bag. She drapes it across an empty sewing table, and I drift towards her in curiosity. I stifle a soft gasp as she unzips it.

My wedding gown, finally completed. The gold gossamer seems to move without a touch, so delicate it's as if it's sewn out of water and not corporeal cloth. I'm in awe, my fingers itching to grab it and pull it over me and twirl around until my head spins.

"You finished it." I whispered, still too afraid to touch it. Bitterness claws at my heart now, the knowledge that I'll never get to wear this dress like poison in my mind.

"Of course I did." Agatha says, an undeniable trace of smugness in her tone. I feel like I should've smiled.

I turn away, swallowing hard. "I'm sure Jace's future wife will look absolutely stunning in it."

Agatha shakes her head. "No. This dress is yours. Everything from the neckline to the cloth was chosen especially for you. And there is simply no mortal or shadowhunter who will ever truly wear this dress besides you. Keep it. Take it with you. Wear it someday at your own wedding." She urges, eyes pleading.

"Of course Agatha, if that's what you wish." I don't tell her that I'll never wear it. That I'll never have my own wedding and even if I did I can't bear the thought of wearing something so heavily tied to jace, to here. No, I'd bury it deep in the back of my wardrobe and push it away like I'll do with my thoughts, but always find my way back to it, always hold it as I cry because in the same way those thoughts will always come back to me. Because as hard as I may try, I know it will be a while before I can close that door for good.

"I'll have it brought down and placed with your things." She answers softly. Agatha squeezes my hand once more before dropping it, a sad smile on her thin lips. "Best of luck, Clarissa. You have more important things to do now then roam these halls."

The parlor is brightly lit, empty of guards and clean with the doors open wide to let the steady stream of workers through as they prepared my carriage and brought down my suitcases, pitifully few. It reminded me of the day I came.

My mind is lost as I look over the bright tapestries hung around, draping the banister of the great staircase that rises far above my head. I'm so lost I don't even notice Magnus until he's right behind me.

"Your neck will get stuck like that if you keep looking up darling."

His buttery tone draws a tired smile out of me as I turn around, no longer shocked by the sheer sparkle of his presence. Even the cat eyes that used to freak me out are normal. Angel, living here has changed me.

"Hello to you too Magnus." I reply, scrutinizing his outfit. He went with a more demure look, and by demure I mean only one color of glitter in his hair today. I didn't even want to question the vest.

"Did you really think you'd steal away without saying goodbye?" He reprimands, clicking his tongue in distaste. I shake my head at his dramatics.

"Of course I didn't I knew you'd find me before I left."

"At least you don't doubt me." He concedes, crossing his long arms and regarding me curiously. "Clarissa, are you sure this is the right decision? Is this really what you want?"

My answer comes with no hesitation. "Of course it isn't what I want. What I want is to never step foot in that kingdom again. But that is simply not an option. Those people are my people now, and without Jonathan, I'm all that's left. And they can have me, they can have all of me." I hesitate a moment before whispering. "Because I'm all the Morgensterns have left to offer."

Magnus' sigh is heavy. "Say no more child. You know what you have to do, we all do. And I'm glad you're doing it."

"Thank you." Is all i can manage. Magnus seems to hesitate for a moment, a flicker of brief vulnerability flashing across his face.

"Do you- do you remember that day, that you saw Alexander and I-"

I stop him with a look. "Yes Magnus, clearly. I don't need specifics."

He rolls his eyes before continuing. The candid action seems so foreign I almost laugh outloud. "Well, I just wanted to thank you again for keeping that to yourself. Also, I have news."

Magnus leans in suddenly, hugging me delicately close. I stay still, eyes wide as he whispers smoothly into my ears, "Alexander and I have decided to elope."

I draw back in shock, jaw dropping. No way. No way were they actually crazy enough to do this.

"Are you insane?" I hiss, keeping my voice low. Magnus keeps cool, but there's an excitement burning in his eyes.

"Clarissa, I love him. I truly do. And we can never be together here, it's simply impossible. Even if Alexander was comfortable with the idea, it'd be too much for him. He deserves to be able to love, Clarissa. And he can't do it here. So yes, we're leaving. We're thinking of a flat in New York, I hear they're currently lacking of a High Warlock in the tri-state area."

Magnus speaks casually, but I don't miss the aching in his voice. I know Idris is both his and Alec's home, and it took all they had to leave it behind. But they had each other.

And that's all that mattered to them.

"Take care of yourself okay?" I whisper, knowing it will be a long time before I see him again.

He nods before adding, "I hope you know Isabelle is going to be absolutely furious with you for not saying goodbye. You're lucky she's home and doesn't know yet."

My heart wrenches at the thought of her. Oh, Isabelle. I love that insane woman. I love everything she ever did for me, from getting me drunk in the afternoon to forcing me into that insane backless dress. She's crazy, she's lovely.

"I can't say goodbye to her." My voice is quiet, shameful. She deserves a proper goodbye, a proper explanation. But I don't trust myself not to break down when I see the first friend I ever had for a long time. I can't do it.

"I understand." Magnus says, voice surprisingly calm. "I told you once Clary, that you have a gift. A gift of humanity. And I wasn't lying. You're the most human shadowhunter I have ever met. Don't lose it."

"I won't" I promise, offering him one last smile. He truly is an enigma, one that I never hope to understand. He leans in quickly, pressing a kiss to my forehead before pulling away slightly, a bitter curve to his lips. "I think it's time for me to leave."

I go to ask him what he means, but I get my answer first.

"Clary."

Every nerve in my body tightens at the sound of my name on Jace's lips. I close my eyes tight, taking a deep breath to center myself. By the time I open them, Magnus had vanished. I turn to face Jace.

My eyes will never get used to him, If there isn't much more I'm sure of in this world, it's that I'll never get used to that demanding presence that draws you in, to the curve of his jaw and the fullness of his lips. I'll never get used to curls that spill around his face, a stray lock always managing to come untucked from behind his left ear. I'll never forget just what he looks like when he smiles, the way his lips taste and body feels against mine. And most of all, I know I'll never forget for the rest of my life the look in his eyes right now.

"Would you like to explain why I passed a handmaid carrying one of your suitcases?" He pauses to look over me once, and despite the situation I can't help the warmth I feel at his glance. "And why you're dressed for travel?"

I have to look away before I can finally answer. "I think it's obvious." Is all I can reply, and the flatness of my own voice surprises me.

Jace walks towards me, but stops a few feet away, a storm brewing in his eyes. He still looks exhausted, clothes wrinkled and hair mussed. He probably hadn't left his mother's side since waking up.

"What are you doing Clary?" He asks, something like agitation building in his voice.

"I'm going home."

My response is simple, but his reaction isn't. Everything goes still for a beat, and there's a moment where I know he doesn't even breathe. Jace stares at me in shock.

"What?"

"The only reason I came here was because my father was trying to get us married for his own good. And he's dead now." The ease in which I say those words terrifies me. "So I guess we're done here."

Jace's mouth is open, arms loose by his side. He looks stupefied. "You're joking, you're not actually doing this."

"I don't see why I shouldn't be." It feels like I'm spitting out blades, the words cutting my throat. Because in reality all i want is to run to him, to let him hold and tell me it's going to be okay. But oh angel, nothing is okay anymore.

"Clary, what are you doing?" He whispers, but he doesn't come closer. We just stay rooted to our spots, staring at each other across the distance I long to close.

"I'm doing the right thing Jace."

"Is this because of what my mother said?" Jace asks. "Because I know it's insane what we heard, I know it's a lot to handle but-"

"But what?" I interrupt, my rage billowing out. But oh angel, not at him. It was my rage at everything but. My rage at my father, at my brother, my mother, at everything and everything there is. Everything but him. "There are no buts Jace. That story we heard? It's not just a story. It's true. My family is dead." My voice is rising now. "Every single member of the Morgenstern family is dead, and countless more are as well because of my father. My father. My father murdered people Jace, and he ruined lives. He killed your father and kidnapped your mother, and he ruined his kingdom. Angel knows what shape those people are in now. And they need a leader, and that has to be me. So yes, I'm leaving Jace. And you can't stop me."

I'm breathing hard, fists clenched as Jace's eyes narrow. "This is just another of your spontaneous, idiotic decisions Clary. What do you-"

"Excuse me?" I throw back, angry all over again. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"This is what you do!" He yells back. Jace's anger has always been a force to be reckoned with, but I never have and never will back down from him. "You make stupid decisions that you know aren't right-"

"Oh please, name one."

"Oh I don't know, how about the time you decided to walk into a fucking dungeon of a murderous king? All while sending a handmaid to come warn me?" Jace shouts, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turn white by his side.

"I didn't really have a choice last time I checked!" I yell back, our voices bouncing off the walls and back at each other.

."You could have been killed!" His scream is so loud, I can't even respond. "You could have been killed. Don't you fucking understand that? I could have lost you. I could have lost you."

I've seen Jace go through a lot. I've heard him speak at me with a million different colors in his voice and I'll never forget any of them. But oh god, never have a I heard heartbreak like this.

It's almost enough.

A long stretch of silence passes, filled with only our heavy breaths as we attempt to cool down. "But I made it. And you got your mom back."

"And I'll forever be indebted to you for that." Jace's reply is so quiet, so honest. I force myself not to think about his words.

"The Morgenstern Kingdom needs someone. They're all in panic, their king was just murdered. They need guidance." I look up at the walls of stone once more. "Plus, the Herondale Castle has it's rightful queen back."

"Don't do this."

Jace's eyes are intent, and they hold on to me with a grip that refuses to loosen. And just like before, I'm lost. I'm lost within him, within that age old anger and that innate kindness and all the strange factors that made him up. He's so different now, so different from the man who insulted me upon first glance then proceeded to flirt, so different from the man so filled with anger and bitterness at the world. But I refuse to think that I'm the reason for the kindness in his eyes now. Because I refuse to convince myself to stay.

"The only reason I was here in the first place was so my father could gain power. And now, he's gone and I have a kingdom to get to. I don't have a reason to stay."

I'm lying.

I'm lying. I'm lying. I'm lying. I beg him to know that, to realize that those words feel so wrong in my mouth I want to spit them out. But he still jerks back, his eyes still widen in disbelief and that brief flash of hurt still flickers in his eyes. I want to scream that I'm lying, I want to beg him to understand what this took, how much it breaks my heart. But there is no such thing as a clean break, and those jagged pieces will make me bleed for angel knows how long.

I look away, the emotion on his face too much to face. I'm not strong enough to look at him, and for the first time in weeks, I allow myself to be weak. "I left all the clothes you bought for me behind. They're beautiful, but not mine. I'm sure one day your wife will love them." Oh angel, I want to hit myself. It'd be less painful than this.

"Take them with you." Jace's voice is rough, commanding. "They're yours."

"No." I whisper softly, shaking my head. "I can't. You bought them for your wife, she should wear them."

"Clarissa, take it all." He commands, eyes narrowing. I don't say another word, I don't accept or deny. I just leave it alone.

"I wish your mother the best of luck with her recovery. Tell her I said I'm honored I got to meet her."

Jace just watches me, so much on his face I can't hope to decipher it. I stare back, committing everything to memory. I never want to forget his face. I never want to forget a single moment of his arrogance or rage, of his whispers and smiles against my skin. I don't want to forget anything, even the steel hand clenching my throat so hard I feel like I can't breathe. I want one last kiss, one last touch. But I know I'll never have it.

"Is this what you want?" Jace's voice is flat, eyes bright. I can't answer his question. I can't break. I've come so far.

"You're a marvelous king, Jace."

"You didn't answer my question."

And I never will. Because he can never know the answer.

Only a few feet separate us, but we don't move closer. I don't trust myself. I never did, and I never will trust myself around Jace Herondale. And that man is without doubt the toughest thing I've ever attempted to solve. And I'm still nowhere near close.

"Goodbye, Jace."

He turns away before I do.

Sorry it's been incredibly long since I updated, I got really swept away with school and stuff. Life has been insane, not gonna lie. However, I do only have one chapter left of this story and one chapter left of Love Isn't Optional. And after that, I'm afraid I'm going dormant for a while. School's been in for a week and I'm already drowning in homework, I know there's no way I can update frequently. And quite frankly, I'm burned out. I've been writing fanfic for two years, and the next story I write is gonna be an original story. I think it's time for me to move on. I'm sorry :(

Also a friend of mine introduced me to The Vaccines and I've been absolutely obsessed, I highly recommend their song I Always Knew. Please listen to it if you can, it's so lovely.

Shitty Life Advice Of The Day - Love yourself. Plain and simple. Know what you need in life and know what's best for you. You're so important, and nobody else can take care of you forever. Love yourself, no matter what it costs. And trust me, sometime's it can cost a lot. But love yourself.

ONE MORE CHAPTER

ONE MORE FREAKING CHAPTER

LOVE YOU ALL