Chain of Gold

I am a Herondale. We love but once.

Matthew did not answer. He was still looking at the dance floor—though not just the crowd of dancers themselves, but rather a specific couple. Cordelia Carstairs and James Herondale.

It was only in stories that heroes were rewarded; in real life, acts of heroism went unrewarded, or were punished, and the world turned on as it always had.

And yet, was not knowing what it was like to taste it not also a form of torment?

Matthew spoke in a low voice. “It would be one thing if James loved her. I would go into the quiet dark like Jem did and never speak of her again. But he doesn’t love her.”

Magnus cleared his throat. “I see why my waistcoats cannot hold your attention, Fairchild. I’ve been where you are. Wanting what you can’t have will only rip your heart apart.”

thought, why no one else seemed to notice that Matthew was only standing up because the wall was holding him.

“One,” said Cordelia. “That’s everyone’s dream, isn’t it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves—one who gives you everything.”

Lucie tried to imagine Grace and Jesse sitting in this shadowy room, exchanging the news of their days:

I saw a demon attack in Regent’s Park during the daytime.

Did you, now? Well, I didn’t do much, as you know, I’m still dead.

Save for Jesse. She lived for Jesse now, and for revenge.