City of Clockwork Soldiers

The Entire Entourage

"My name is Charlotte Fairchild."

As soon as Clary heard it, she had to conceal her gasp. She now realised why Henry Branwell was so familiar to her. He reminded her of her, of her family. The genetic makeup of these two people stood in front of her was the reason she looked the way she did. Somehow, they had created her, generations and generations before. Clary didn't know how to take this new information.

Luckily, Jace did, and without a glance at Clary, he said, "It's an honour to meet you, Mrs Fairchild." He tilts his head forward in a sort of bow.

"As is it-" she began, but then glanced at Clary and caught sight of her expression. "Are you quite alright, my dear?" she asked, concern written in the crease forming between her eyebrows. Clary assumed her face had become even paler than it usually was, and she felt how wide her eyes had gone.

Jace reached for her hand, pressing his thumb against her palm in an attempt to calm her. "I believe she is fine," Jace answered for her. "I understand she is just shocked and nervous to be in such close presence of the Consul." He cocked his eyebrow at Clary. "Isn't that right, Clary?"

Clary nodded slowly, and Charlotte smiled. "There is no need to feel that way, my dear girl," Charlotte assured her. "Before I was appointed to my position, I was a normal shadowhunter citizen like yourself. I believe that I still am."

The four of them nodded simultaneously, and then Isabelle stepped forward. "And who's this?" she smiled, pointing the little boy clasped to Charlotte's chest.

Charlotte smoothed her hand over the baby's hair, whose small lips pulled into an adorable smile. "This is Charlie," Charlotte introduced. "He is mine and Henry's son." She wraps her thumb and forefinger around the boy's wrist and lifts his hand. "Say hello Charlie."

The little boy's fingers waggled like he was waving at them, and a cute little giggle came from his lips.

Charlotte laughed. "Good boy," she praised, then turn to the rest of them. "Well, why don't you come in. You can make the acquaintance of everybody who lives here. I take it you have already been acquainted with Jessie?"

Isabelle halted in her tracks; she had been moving towards the door, but at hearing Jessamine's name, she stopped. She had assumed that, because Jessamine had disappeared as soon as Henry had opened the door, the people living in the Institute was unaware of Jessamine's presence.

Charlotte seemed to read her expression, and stated, "We have only just discovered that Jessamine still remains. One of our friends, Will, was the only one of us who knew for years. He has recently told us, though, that she wanders the outside of the Institute. She is almost strong enough as a ghost, now, to come inside the Institute. We are all very excited for that time. It will be as if she never..." Charlotte's face contorted, but she quickly regained her composure. "As if she never left."

The group followed Henry and Charlotte into the Institute, familiar to them as they'd originally seen it. Only a few details had changed: witchlight sconces could have been stationed differently, Clary wasn't sure; and several paintings had been replaced in favour of others. Other than that, everything looked exactly the same as they'd previously seen it.

Whilst Charlotte gazed proudly around, Henry made an attempt at polite conversation. "That's an unusual attire you all are wearing," he commented, sending a not-so-subtle glance towards Clary, who had not been prepared when they had been summoned to the library. She was sporting denim jeans, an Iron Maiden t shirt, and a checkered kimono. She realised their modern clothing and gear was probably the reason for the judgemental glances they had received from the people on the streets.