Kingdom of Lies

Chapter 21

(A/N: I decided to make the tune Clary taught Simon "Carol of Bells" because it reminds me of Christmas time and saves me from typing more than I have to... #lazybishlife)

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.

Disengaging 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.