Every Exquisite Thing (Ghosts of the Shadow Market #3)

Anna was speechless. So her mother did know. She had always thought her mother knew that she loved women, and that her father did as well . . . but they had never spoken of it until now.

“I am so sorry.” Cecily kissed Anna’s forehead. “My darling lovely one. I know it does not help to be told it, but someone else will come, and she will treat your heart as the precious gift it is.”

“Mama,” she said. “You do not mind—that I might not get married, or have children?”

“There are many Shadowhunter children orphaned, as Ariadne was, seeking loving homes, and I see no reason why you might not provide one someday. As for marriage . . .” Cecily shrugged. “They said your Uncle Will could not be with your Aunt Tessa, that your Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gideon could not be together. And yet, I think you will find that they were wrong, and they would have been wrong even if marriage had been forbidden them. Even where laws are unjust, hearts can find a way to be together. If you love someone, I have no doubt you will find a way to spend your life with them, Anna. You are the most determined child I know.”

“I am not a child,” Anna said, but she smiled, in some amazement. Ariadne might have disappointed her, but her mother was astonishing her in quite the opposite way.

“Still,” her mother said. “You cannot keep wearing your brother’s clothes.”

Anna’s heart fell. Here it was. Her mother’s understanding could only go so far.

“I thought you didn’t know,” she said in a small voice.

“Of course I knew. I am your mother,” Cecily said as if she were announcing that she were the Queen of England. She tapped the long, ribboned box. “Here is a new outfit for you. Hopefully you will find it suitable for accompanying your family in the park today.”

Before Anna could protest, a loud and demanding cry sounded through the house. Exclaiming “Alexander!” Cecily swept out the door, instructing Anna to meet her downstairs in the sitting room when she was dressed.

Glumly, Anna untied the ribbons holding the box closed. She had received many clothes from her mother in the past. Another pastel silk? Another cunningly constructed dress, meant to make the most of her slight curves?

The ribbons and paper fell away, and Anna gasped.

Inside the box was the most gorgeous suit she had ever seen. Charcoal tweed with a thin blue stripe, the jacket was crisply tailored. A gorgeous silk waistcoat in radiant shades of blue complemented a crisp white shirt. Shoes, braces—nothing had been forgotten.

In a daze, Anna dressed herself and gazed into the mirror. The clothes fit perfectly—her mother must have given her measurements to the tailor. And yet there was still one thing not right.

She tightened her jaw, then crossed the room to get the pair of scissors. Standing before the mirror, she grabbed a thick fistful of hair.

She hesitated for only a moment, Ariadne’s soft voice in her ears.

I thought you understood—that this would be a bit of happiness we could snatch for ourselves before the world forced us apart.

The hair made a satisfying crisp sound as she cut through it. It rained down on the carpet. She took another fistful, then another, until her hair was to her chin. The cut brought her features into sharp relief. She trimmed more in the front, clipped away at the back, until there was just enough to sweep back into a gentlemanly wave.

And now it was perfect. Her reflection gazed back at her, lips curved in an incredulous smile. The waistcoat brought out her eyes; the trousers, the slimness of her legs. She felt she could breathe, even with the ache of Ariadne’s loss in her chest: she might have lost the girl, but she had gained herself. A new Anna, confident, dapper, powerful.

Hearts were broken across London every day. Perhaps Anna might break a heart or two herself. There would be others—lovely girls would come and go, and she would remain in control of her heart. She would never be torn like this again.

She was a Shadowhunter. She would take the blow. She would harden herself and laugh in the face of pain.

Anna descended the stairs soon after. It was late afternoon now, though the sun was still shining bright through the windows. This day would last forever.

Her mother was in the sitting room with a tea tray, baby Alex in a basket by her side. Her father sat opposite, engaged in reading the newspaper.

Anna stepped into the room.

Both her parents looked up. She saw them take in her new clothes, as well as her short hair. She stood in the doorway, bracing herself for whatever response was coming.

A long moment passed.

“I told you the blue waistcoat was the one,” Gabriel said to Cecily. “It brings out her eyes.”

“I did not disagree,” said Cecily, rocking the baby. “I just said she would also look very well in red.”

Anna began to smile.

“Much better than your brother’s clothes,” Gabriel said. “He does dreadful things to them with sulfur and acids.”

Cecily examined Anna’s shorn locks.

“Very sensible,” she said. “Hair can be cumbersome in battle. I like it very much.” She rose to her feet. “Come sit,” she added. “Stay with your brother and father a moment. There is something I meant to fetch for you.”

As her mother left the room, Anna felt her limbs go tingly as she sat down on the settee. She reached down to Alex. He had just woken up and was looking all around the room, taking in all the wonders anew in the way that babies do whenever they awake and find that the world is still there, to be understood in all of its myriad complexities.

“I understand how you feel,” she said to her brother.

He smiled a toothless smile at her and reached up a chubby hand. She extended her own, and he grabbed her finger.

Her mother returned only a few minutes later with a small blue box.

“You know,” Cecily said, sitting down and refilling her teacup, “my parents did not want me to be a Shadowhunter. They had fled the Clave. And your Uncle Will . . .”

“I know,” Anna said. Gabriel gazed fondly at his wife.

“But I was a Shadowhunter. I knew it then, when I was fifteen. I knew it was in my blood. Foolish people say so many things. But we know who we are, inside.”

She set the blue box on the table and pushed it toward Anna.

“If you will accept it,” her mother said.

Inside the box was a necklace with a glimmering red gem. Latin words were etched onto the back.

“For your protection,” she said. “You know what it does.”

“It senses demons,” Anna said, astonished. Her mother wore it nearly every time she went out to fight, though that was rarer now that Alexander had come along.

“It cannot protect your heart, but it can protect the rest of you,” Cecily said. “It is an heirloom. It should be yours.”

Anna fought back the tears that sought to fill her eyes.

She took up the necklace and clasped it about her throat. She stood up and gazed at herself in the mirror over the fireplace. A handsome reflection gazed back at her. The necklace felt right, just as her short hair did. I do not have to be only one thing, Anna thought. I can choose what suits me when it suits me. The trousers and jacket do not make me a man, and the necklace does not make me a woman. They are only what makes me feel beautiful and powerful in this moment. I am exactly as I choose to be. I am a Shadowhunter who wears gorgeous suits and a legendary pendant.

She looked at her mother’s reflection in the glass. “You were right,” she said. “The red does suit me.”

Gabriel chuckled softly, but Cecily only smiled.

“I have always known you, my love,” Cecily said. “You are the gem of my heart. My firstborn. My Anna.”

Anna thought of all the pain of the day again—the wound that had ripped her chest open and exposed her heart. But now it was as if her mother had drawn a rune over it and closed it. The scar was there, but she was whole.

It was like being Marked all over again, defining who she was. This was Anna Lightwood.