If The Marriage Were Valid,

Looking At Her, He Was In London Again. He Saw The Gaslight And Smelled The Smoke And Dirt And Horses, The Metallic Tang Of Fog, The Flowers In Kew Gardens. He Saw A Boy With Black Hair And Blue Eyes Like Alec's. A Girl With Long Brown Curls And A Serious Face. In A World Where Everything Went Away From Him Eventually, She Was One Of The Few Remaining Constants.

If You Love Someone, You're Not Supposed To Want Them To Come Back. Better A Peaceful Sleep In The Earth Than The Life Of A Zombie--not Really Dead But Not Really Alive, Either.

She Had Taken Him For Granted, She Thought With Surprise And Shame, Watching The Flickering Candlelight. She Had Assumed His Kindness Was So Natural And So Innate, She Had Never Asked Herself Whether It Cost Him Any Effort. Any Effort To Stand Between Will And The World, Protecting Each Of Them From The Other. Any Effort To Accept The Loss Of His Family With Equanimity. Any Effort To Remain Cheerful And Calm In The Face Of His Own Dying.

Kill Me, Little Sister. Kill Me And You Kill Jace, Too.

Atque In Pepetuum, Frater, Ave Atque Vale,” He Whispered. The Words Of The Poem Had Never Seemed So Fitting: Forever And Ever, My Brother, Hail And Farewell.