Alec just stared up at him. One long, strong archer’s hand was dangling into the baby’s crib, but Alec was intent on Magnus, his dark blue eyes darker than ever in the shadows, one look from Alec more important than a kiss from anyone else. Magnus saw he meant it.
“Alec,” he said. “My Alec. You have to know that’s impossible.”
Alec looked stunned and horror-struck. Magnus began to speak, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster and faster, trying to get Alec to see.
“Shadowhunters can marry Downworlders, in Downworlder or mundane ceremonies. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve seen other Shadowhunters dismiss those marriages as meaning nothing, and I’ve seen some Shadowhunters bow under pressure and break the vows they made. I know you would never bow or break. I know that type of marriage would mean just as much to you. I know that any promises you made me, you would keep. But I was alive before the Accords. I sat and ate and talked with Shadowhunters about peace between our people, and then those same Shadowhunters threw away the plates I ate off because they thought I irredeemably tainted whatever I touched. I will not have a ceremony that anyone looks down on as lesser. I do not want you to have any less than the ceremony you could have had, to honor your vows to a Shadowhunter. I have had enough of making compromises in the name of trying to make peace. I want the Law to change. I do not want to get married until we can get married in gold.”
Alec was quiet, his head bowed.
“Do you understand?” Magnus demanded, feeling almost desperate. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s not that I don’t love you.”
“I understand,” said Alec. He took a deep breath and looked up. “Changing the Law might take a while,” he said simply.
“It might,” said Magnus.
They were both quiet for a little while.
“Can I tell you something?” Magnus asked. “Nobody ever wanted me to marry them before.”
He’d had other loves, but none of them had ever asked, and he had known—had sensed with a cold, sinking feeling that it would be useless—not to ask them. Whether it was because they did not feel they could promise until death did them part when Magnus would not die, because they took Magnus lightly or thought, being immortal, that he took them lightly. He had never known the reasons they did not want to marry him, but there it was: There had been lovers willing to die with him, but nobody had ever been willing to swear to live with him every day for as long as they both had to live.
Nobody until this Shadowhunter.
“I never asked anyone to marry me before,” said Alec. “So that’s a no, then?”
He laughed as he asked, a soft laugh, worn but happy. Alec always tried to give those he loved a path or an open door; he tried to give those he loved anything they wanted. They sat there, leaning against their baby’s crib together.
Magnus lifted his hand, and Alec caught it in midair, their fingers linking. Magnus’s rings flashed and Alec’s scars glowed in the moonlight. Both of them held on.
“It’s yes, one day,” Magnus said. “For you, Alec, it’s always yes.”
After classes the next day Simon sat in his dank dungeon room, resisted the almost irresistible temptation to go find Isabelle, and mustered up his courage.
He marched up the many flights of stairs and knocked on the door of Alec and Magnus’s rooms.
Magnus answered the door. He was wearing jeans and a loose, frayed T-shirt, holding the baby, and he looked very tired.
“How did you know he’d just woken up from a nap?” Magnus asked as he opened the door.
“Uh, I didn’t,” said Simon.
Magnus blinked at him, in the slow way that tired people did, as if they had to think deeply about blinking. “Oh, my apologies,” he said. “I thought you were Maryse.”
“Isabelle’s mother is here?” Simon exclaimed.
“Shhhh!” said Magnus. “She might hear you.”
The baby was grizzling, not quite crying but making a sound like a small, unhappy tractor. He wiped his damp face against Magnus’s shoulder.
“I’m really sorry to interrupt,” said Simon. “I was wondering if I could have a word alone with Alec.”
“Alec’s sleeping,” Magnus said flatly, and began to close the door.
Alec’s voice rang out before the door was quite closed. He sounded as if he was midyawn. “No, I’m not. I’m awake. I can talk to Simon.” He appeared in the doorway, pulling the door back open. “Go out and take a long walk. Get some fresh air. It’ll wake you up.”
“I’m great,” said Magnus. “I don’t need sleeping. Or waking. I feel great.”
The baby waved his fat hands in Alec’s direction, the gestures loose and uncoordinated but unmistakable. Alec looked startled but smiled, a sudden, unexpectedly nice smile, and reached out to take the baby in his arms. As soon as he did, the baby stopped grizzling.
Magnus waved his finger in the baby’s face. “I find your attitude insulting,” he informed him. He kissed Alec briefly. “I won’t be gone long.”
“Take as long as you need,” said Alec. “I have this feeling my parents might be coming to help very shortly.”
Magnus left, and Alec stepped away from the door, going to stand at the window with the baby.
“So,” said Alec. His shirt was rumpled, clearly slept in, and he was bouncing a baby. Simon felt bad even bothering him. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I’m really sorry again about yesterday,” Simon told him.
Then he wondered if it was terrible that he had referenced sex in front of Alec’s baby. Maybe Simon was just doomed to mortally offend Alec, over and over again. Forever.
“It’s okay,” said Alec. “I once walked in on you and Isabelle. I guess turnabout’s fair play.” He frowned. “Although you two were in my room at the time, so actually I think you still owe me.”
Simon was alarmed. “You walked in on me and Isabelle? But we haven’t . . . I mean, we didn’t . . . Did we?”
It would be typical of Simon’s life, he thought. Of all things in the world, he would forget that.
Alec looked upset to be having this discussion, but Simon fixed him with a pleading stare and Alec apparently took pity on Simon’s great patheticness.
“I don’t know,” Alec said at last. “You were in the process of taking your clothes off, as I remember. And I try not to remember. And you seemed to be engaging in some sort of role-play.”
“Oh. Whoa. Like advanced role-play? Were there costumes? Were there props? What is Isabelle going to be expecting here, exactly?”
“I won’t discuss this,” said Alec.
“But if you could just give me a tiny hint . . .”
“Get out of here, Simon,” said Alec.
Simon yanked himself back from the edge of role-playing panic, and pulled himself together.
This was more words than he had spoken to Alec in years.
Though Alec had just ordered him out of the room, so Simon had to admit things were not exactly going well.