“Is Christopher eating his wax pear?” she whispered back. “That can’t be healthy.”
Cordelia gave up trying to keep track of all the guests; it was hard even to remember which of them she’d met before and which she hadn’t. James, presumably from years of attending Institute functions, knew almost everyone at least by name. Cordelia found herself relieved by the appearance of anyone she actually knew: Gabriel and Cecily and their toddler son, Alexander, who had been retrieved from the nursery and remained amazingly asleep through the raucous congratulations and cheers. Rosamund Wentworth, who wanted to talk about wedding cakes since “as of course you know, I am also to be married soon. Thoby, stop that and pay attention.” Thomas’s elder sister, Eugenia, recently back from Idris. Henry Fairchild, who simply held Cordelia’s hands and wished her happy with a straightforward sincerity that made her want to cry.
With help from Lucie and Tessa, the guests were steered into their seats, and James and Cordelia were able to sit down. Lucie had managed to arrange it so most of the friends were sitting together in a cheerful group. Only Anna—off in a corner looking glamorous and chatting to Magnus Bane about Ragnor Fell’s sojourn in Capri—had not joined them. （Cordelia had suggested asking her, but Matthew had said, “Anna is like a cat. You have to let her come to you,” which Christopher had confirmed as true.）
Serving staff crowded around, bringing them plates piled with bits of everything. Cordelia popped a fig into her mouth, savoring the sweetness spreading across her tongue. She thought of her mother, the figs and honey they had often had on special occasions.
“Welcome to the family,” Christopher said to Cordelia. “You’re our cousin-in-law now. I’ve never had one of those before.”
“All Shadowhunters are related already,” Matthew said, tucking his flask into his breast pocket and deftly intercepting a passing waiter with a tray of champagne flutes. He abstracted two and passed one to James with a flourish. “You were already ninth cousins once removed, most likely.”
“Thank you for that distressing analysis,” Cordelia said, raising her own glass in a mock formal toast. “I shall be an honorary Thief, I hope.”
“Well, we’ll have to see,” said Matthew, his eyes twinkling. “How you are at thievery and such.”
“It really is excellent, all this, you know,” Christopher said. “I mean, even though the whole wedding is… you know… because…”
Thomas jumped in before Christopher could find his words. “Expensive, yes,” he agreed loudly. “But it’s well worth it, I say.”
“Anyway, it’ll be quite a lark that you have your own house now, James,” Christopher went on. “No more drafty Devil Tavern rooms.”
“The Merry Thieves gathering in respectable surroundings,” said Matthew. “Who would have thought?”
“I like the Devil Tavern rooms,” protested James.
“I like a fire in the grate that doesn’t get rained out,” said Thomas.
“You are not to send your things from the Devil Tavern to my new house,” James said sternly. “It is not a storage facility for my misbegotten friends.”
Cordelia said nothing as the boys burst into protests and chatter. She was grateful to them all for taking everything in stride, for not hating her for marrying James. They seemed to understand the situation despite its complexities.
On the other hand, they were all going on about the new house, and not for the first time today, she thought, At the end of this party, I don’t go home with my mother and father and Alastair. I go home with my husband to our house. Their house. The house she knew nothing about at all, not even its location.
Her mother had been impatient with Cordelia’s decision to let James handle the purchase and readying of the house. Gentlemen, Sona had said, had no idea about decorating things, and didn’t Cordelia want to put her own stamp on it? Make sure it would be a house she’d be willing to live in the rest of her life?
Cordelia had just said she was content to let James make it a surprise. His parents were buying it, she had thought to herself, and it would be his after the divorce. Perhaps he would want to live in it with Grace.
She glanced down the row of tables, unable to help herself. Grace was there, seated beside Charles, silent and beautiful as always. Ariadne sat on her other side—Cordelia had nearly forgotten that Grace was now living with the Bridgestocks. It was all very odd.