For a Servant and a Master

Part 2: Chapter 3

Christmas Eve came faster than expected. Alexander's desk was covered in Christmas cards and well wishes. They went mostly unopened as Alexander and Isabelle chased and ordered the serving staff around. Guests would begin arriving around 7, but four hours out and nothing was going quite right.

This was their first year without Robert and Maryse had fled to Scotland to sort through her grief. The Lightwood children were utterly unprepared. Chaos reigned over the household.

It came together at the last moment possible, and the string quartet struck up just as the first guests began to file in.

Alexander left the ordering around to Mr. Davies and did his rounds among guests. They were mostly friends and distant family, but a few business associates were present. It was the only way to get work done during the holiday, and Alexander had a few deals to broker before midnight.

A few drinks in, Alexander caught a glimpse of Lydia, standing at Isabelle's side. She was as beautiful as gossip and stories promised, but Alexander couldn't help but feel sick. He was going to have to speak to her eventually, but he was going to have to act like they had been talking for weeks.

He grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing servant and tipped it back in one swallow. Then he walked to her.

..........

"Miss Branwell," Alexander greeted her, with a gentle hand on her upper arm. She returned his smile, with a level of acting he couldn't quite muster.

Maybe she was actually pleased to see him.

"Mr. Lightwood," Lydia said.

"Please, call me Alexander," he said. The words felt forced.

"Ugh, you two are disgusting," Isabelle commented to the other women gathered around them.

"Leave the young lovebirds alone," their great aunt, whose name escaped Alexander, chimed.

"Can I steal her away for a moment?" Alexander asked, turning his charm up as far as it would go. Isabelle shooed them away, and Alexander guided Lydia to a side room that had been closed off for the evening.

"My, my, this is going to seem quite scandalous," Lydia said as soon as he shut the door.

"I feel the need to introduce myself," Alexander said.

"Please don't," Lydia said. "Your sister has said enough about you. I probably know more about you than you do yourself."

"Isabelle has suggested as much," Alexander said, leaning against the back of a tall armchair.

"What is this room?" Lydia asked.

"It used to be the sunroom. My mother used it when she lived here, but I haven't found myself in here much," Alexander explained. They had had lessons with their governess in here when they were younger and needed a change of pace from the nursery.

"Isabelle said you accepted my proposal," Lydia said.

"Yes," Alexander said with a nod. "And clearly you know why I need you, but I don't see why you need me."

"I was previously married," Lydia explained. "John is no longer here and my mother is afraid his death has impacted my social status and mental health. I'm forced to see a madman twice a week, and she expects me to remarry. But it's hard to find a tolerable man willing to marry a previously married woman. And one who won't try to replace John. I don't believe any man that measures up to half his worth exists."

Alexander smiled. He admired her love for him.

The door opened suddenly, but the man in the doorframe was only a brief silhouette. He muttered an apology, and the door slammed closed again.

"Odd," Lydia muttered.

"I have to go--" Alexander said, already out the door. The figure was already down the hall that led to the servants' staircase.

Alexander ran after him.

The stranger had his back to Alexander, but he could tell the man was well-off. His black hair almost shined with grease.

"Hello," Alexander said, cautiously, before he could open the door to the staircase. For a moment, he let his heart hope. The stranger turned.

"Alexander."

He forgot how to breathe for a moment. In that instant, a thousand suppressed memories rushed back at him, good and bad.

"Magnus."

..........

Without another word, Alexander slipped past him, climbing the staircase to the second floor. They walked in silence to Alexander's room.

Magnus shut the door behind himself.

They stood at some distance apart.

"I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were dead," Magnus said. "I was expecting to see your father tonight; not you."

Alexander smiled a little, but his eyes stung with tears. He didn't know how to express what he was feeling in any other way.

"You're living in--?"

"New York," Magnus finished.

"How long are you in London?"

"Only as long as I have to be. I forgot how much I hated this city."

"I thought I saw you the other day near the train station. And I thought I was hallucinating."

"Likely not," Magnus smiled.

Alexander nodded. He had to remind himself to breathe. He sat instead, unbuttoning his jacket. He gestured for Magnus to join him on the couch.

"I heard you're going to be married," Magnus said. "Congratulations."

"It's all a scam," Alexander confessed. He was surprised at how hollow his own voice became. "An illusion to appease our families."

"Are you happy with that?"

"Of course not."

Magnus' hand covered his on the couch.

"Magnus-- my feelings-- they haven't changed."

"I can't say as though I'm surprised." They both gave an uneasy laugh.

"Six years is a long time," Alexander said, softly, staring at their hands. The Lightwood family ring gazed back at him, a reminder of his duty to the family.

"I have to go back to New York eventually anyways," Magnus said, withdrawing his hand. "It was so nice to see you again though. To know you made it."

"I did," Alexander nodded. His body was here. He was alive. He made it.

But his mind was still stuck on that sinking ship.

"We should have dinner sometime," Magnus suggested as he rose. "My hotel is excellent. Or I have tickets to an opera next Saturday."

"If you leave your details with Mr. Davies, I'll be in touch."

Magnus nodded.

"Don't be a stranger, Alec."