And yet. She watched Grace excuse herself and walk stiffly across the room toward Charles. They greeted each other like strangers or business partners, she thought. Oh, how she wished she could talk to Jesse. Perhaps he would be able to tell her how his sister was really feeling. Perhaps he would be able to tell her more than that—

“She’s here,” whispered a voice in Lucie’s ear. “The guest of honor.”

“Cordelia, you mean?” Lucie turned to see Jessamine hovering just beside her near the tall French doors that led out onto the stone balcony. Through them, she could see an electric streetlight in the distance, casting a strange halo on the glass. Jessamine, though, cast no reflection.

“She looks lovely,” Jessamine said. She gave a mysterious smile and vanished in the direction of the dessert table. Ghosts could not eat, but Jessamine still enjoyed looking at cakes.

Cordelia did look lovely. She came in with her mother and brother, Sona looking darkly regal in a green dress and black velvet roosari, Alastair—well, Lucie hardly noticed Alastair until he handed his hat to the maid and she realized he’d dyed his hair back to its natural black. It stood out strikingly against the brown of his skin.

And then there was Cordelia, arrayed in a tapering gown of deep blue silk and golden tulle, sleeves ruched and an opalescent brooch gathering together silk and gauze in a rosette between her breasts. Risa had dressed her hair with pearls winking among the dark red strands.

James took her hands and kissed her cheek. Both he and Cordelia looked aware of how many people were staring at them and probably whispering. Cordelia’s announcement at the Enclave meeting, though it had led to marriage, remained the shock of the season.

Annoyed on their behalf, Lucie began to make her way across the room toward her family. She was headed off by Thomas, carrying their little cousin Alexander. Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel had clearly palmed Alexander off on Thomas while they devoted themselves to party preparation. It was rather sweet to see tall, muscular Thomas carefully carrying a child, though Lucie would never tell him so lest he get a swelled head.

“Luce,” Thomas said. “I must go greet Cordelia and Alastair. Could you take this awful brat?”

“Not a brat,” said Alexander, who was sucking a piece of licorice.

“I could,” Lucie acknowledged. “I don’t particularly want to, though.”

“Matthew,” demanded Alexander darkly. Matthew was his favorite pseudo-relative. “Oscar.”

“I don’t think Oscar was invited, old chap,” said Thomas. “What with him being a dog.”

“I think you’d better go look for Matthew,” said Lucie, as Alexander appeared to be about to slump into despair. Thomas gave her a wry salute and headed into the crowd, which had only grown. Lucie saw with some delight that Magnus Bane had appeared, dressed rather like a pirate, with ruby buttons on his waistcoat and ruby jewels in his ears. He definitely raised the tone of the party.

She was halfway across the room when Charles, wobbling a bit as if he’d had too much to drink, climbed up onto a low bench and tapped his family ring against his glass. “Excuse me!” he called, as the noise in the room began to quiet. “I’ve something I’d like to say.”

* * *

The Herondales had been so immediately kind, welcoming Cordelia to their family. She did not know how to look them in the face, knowing it was all a lie. She was not Will and Tessa’s new daughter. She and James would be divorced in a year.

James was being horrifically kind too. In the time since the engagement, Cordelia had convinced herself she had somehow trapped him into marriage. She knew perfectly well that if she hadn’t thrown her reputation away to protect him, he’d be in the prisons of the Silent City. He’d been obliged to propose after that.

He did smile at her whenever he looked at her—that lovely smile that seemed to say she was a miracle or a revelation. But it didn’t help; James had a good heart, that was all. He didn’t love her, and that would not change.

To her immense shock, Alastair had been a great support through the past few days. He’d brought her tea, told her jokes, played chess with her, and generally kept her mind off things. They had talked very little about Elias’s return. She didn’t think he’d left her alone in the house at all—not even to go see Charles.

Speaking of which, Charles had climbed on a bench and was calling out that he had something to say, creating a racket that quickly got the attention of the room. Everyone looked immensely surprised, including Tessa and Will. Sona frowned, clearly thinking Charles was very rude. She didn’t know the half of it, Cordelia thought darkly.

“Let me be the first to raise a glass to the happy couple!” said Charles, doing just that. “To James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs. I wish to add personally that James, my brother’s parabatai, has always been like a younger brother to me.”

“A younger brother he accused of vandalizing greenhouses across our fair nation,” muttered Will.

“As for Cordelia Carstairs—how to describe her?” Charles went on.

“Especially when one has not bothered to get to know her at all,” murmured James.

“She is both beautiful and fair,” said Charles, leaving Cordelia to wonder what the difference was, “as well as being brave. I am sure she will make James as happy as my lovely Grace makes me.” He smiled at Grace, who stood quietly near him, her face a mask. “That’s right. I am formally announcing my intention to wed Grace Blackthorn. You will all be invited, of course.”

Cordelia glanced over at Alastair; he was expressionless, but his hands, jammed into his pockets, were fists. James had narrowed his eyes.

Charles went on merrily. “And lastly, my thanks go out to the folk of the Enclave, who supported my actions as acting Consul through our recent troubles. I am young to have borne so much responsibility, but what could I say when duty called? Only this. I am honored by the trust of my mother, the love of my bride-to-be, and the belief of my people—”

“Thank you, Charles!” James had appeared at Charles’s side and done something rather ingenious with his feet that caused the bench Charles had been standing on to tip over. He caught Charles around the shoulder as he slid to the floor, clapping him on the back. Cordelia doubted most people in the room had noticed anything amiss. “What an excellent speech!”

Magnus Bane, looking fiendishly amused, snapped his fingers. The loops of golden ribbons dangling from the chandeliers formed the shapes of soaring herons while “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” began to play in ghostly fashion on the unmanned piano. James hustled Charles away from the bench he had clambered onto and into a crowd of well-wishers. The room, as a whole, seemed relieved.

“We have raised a fine son, my darling,” Will said, kissing Tessa on the cheek. He glanced over at Cordelia and smiled. “And we could ask for no lovelier girl to be his wife.”

Alastair looked as if he wished to edge away. Cordelia didn’t blame him. “Thank you, Mr. Herondale,” she said. “I hope to live up to your expectations.”

Tessa looked surprised. “Why would you ever worry about that?”

“Cordelia worries,” Alastair said unexpectedly, “because of the idiots who mutter about our father, and our family. She should not let them bother her.”

Tessa laid a gentle hand on Cordelia’s shoulder. “The cruel will always spread rumors,” she said. “And others who take pleasure in that cruelty will believe them and spread them. But I believe that in the end, truth wins out. Besides,” she added with a smile, “the most interesting women are always the most whispered about.”

“Very true!” said Charles, appearing suddenly in their midst. Alastair started violently. “Might I speak to Alastair for a moment? It’s a private matter.”

He took hold of Alastair by the elbow and began to lead him toward one of the more shadowy nooks in the ballroom. Alastair’s hand shot out and seized hold of Cordelia’s wrist. To her immense surprise, she found herself dragged along after the two of them.

When Charles stopped and turned to face Alastair, he looked as surprised as Cordelia felt. “Ah, Cordelia,” he said, looking puzzled. “I had hoped to speak to your brother alone.”

“No,” Alastair said, startling Cordelia. “She will remain.”

“Che kar mikoni?” Cordelia hissed. “Alastair, what are you doing? I should go—”

“I do not wish to speak to you alone, Charles,” Alastair went on. “Surely you got my letter.”

Charles flushed. “I did not think you meant it.”

“I did,” said Alastair. “Anything further you have to say can be said in front of my sister. She will tell no one your secrets.”

Charles seemed to resign himself. “Very well,” he said tightly. “I haven’t seen you since the meeting. I came by your house, but Risa indicated that you weren’t at home.”

“I do not plan to be at home to you ever again,” said Alastair evenly.

Cordelia attempted another break for freedom, but Alastair was still clamped firmly onto her wrist. “I should have left you when you became engaged to Ariadne,” he said to Charles, color flaming in his cheeks. “I should have left when you abandoned her in such a terrible way. Now you are engaged yet again, and I have realized that you will never care half as much for me—or for anyone—as for your career.”

His grip on Cordelia had loosened. She could have left, had she wanted to, but in that moment she realized Alastair needed her there. She stayed, even as Charles went a grayish color.

“Alastair,” he said. “That is not true. There is no other way.”

“There are other ways,” said Alastair. “Look at Anna. Look at Magnus Bane.”

“I am not a bohemian, willing to be exiled to the fringes of society. I wish to be the Consul. To be part of the Clave. To matter.”