The training room smelled of leather and steel, the familiar tang of the Institute’s heartbeat. Sunlight streamed through the high arched windows, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor.
Isabelle stood by the weapons rack, her golden whip coiled in her hand like a sleeping serpent. Her expression was uncharacteristically hard, the usual sparkle in her dark eyes replaced with something steely.
Isabelle Lightwood
Clary. A word.
Clary Fray
pausing mid-step, her hand still on the doorframe I'm heading to the library. Can it wait?
Alec Lightwood
stepping forward from the shadows near the training dummies No. It can't.
Clary's jaw tightened. She turned slowly, crossing her arms over her chest, her red hair catching the light as she faced them.
Clary Fray
Fine. What's this about?
Isabelle Lightwood
flicking her whip once, the crack echoing off the walls You know exactly what this is about.
Alec moved to stand beside his sister, forming a united front. His bow was slung over his shoulder, but his hands hung loose at his sides—ready.
Alec Lightwood
The glances. The muttered comments. The way you leave the room every time Jace walks in with her.
Clary Fray
her voice sharp I'm not the only one who thinks this is wrong.
Isabelle Lightwood
Wrong? a humorless laugh She's five months pregnant with Jace's child. She's under our roof. She's under our protection.
Clary Fray
She's Valentine's daughter! her voice rising Her blood is tainted. You all act like that doesn't matter, but it does!
Isabelle's eyes flashed dangerously. She took a step closer, the whip in her hand humming with tension.
Isabelle Lightwood
That baby is a Wayland. That makes it family. We protect our own, Clary. That's not negotiable.
Alec Lightwood
his voice low and cold You think we've forgotten who her father is? We haven't. But she's not him. And the child she's carrying—my nephew or niece—is innocent.
Clary Fray
her voice cracking You don't understand what it's like watching him—
Isabelle Lightwood
Watching him happy? She tilts her head, piercing Because that's what this is, isn't it? Not about Valentine. About the fact that Jace chose her. That he's building a life with her.
Clary flinched as if struck. Her arms dropped to her sides, fists clenching.
Clary Fray
That's not—
Alec Lightwood
It is. His gaze was unyielding. And it ends now. You can be civil, or you can stay away from her and the baby entirely. Those are your only options.
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Clary's face flushed with shame and anger, trapped under the weight of their unified front.