Suddenly Charles rose to his feet and headed toward them, looking worryingly pleased with himself.
Matthew had seen him too. “My brother heaves into view on the horizon,” he said to James in a low voice. “Careful. He looks very happy about something.”
“The new Mr. and Mrs. Herondale!” Charles called out, and Matthew rolled his eyes. “Might I be the first to offer my congratulations?” He extended his hand to James.
James took it and shook. “You are not the first, Charles, but we appreciate it no less.”
“What an excellent wedding,” Charles went on, looking up at the rafters of the Institute above them as if taking in the room for the first time. “We’ll have quite the wedding season this year, what?”
“What?” said James, and then, “Oh, of course, yourself and… Miss Blackthorn.”
Matthew took a long sip of champagne.
Cordelia studied James’s face, but James betrayed nothing. He smiled pleasantly at Charles, and as always Cordelia was both impressed by and a little frightened by the impenetrability of the Mask—her name for the unreadable, blank expression James deployed to great effect whenever he wished to disguise his feelings. “We shall look forward to toasting your health and happiness in this very hall soon enough, Charles.”
Charles departed. Matthew raised a glass. “That is what in Paris they call sang-froid, Monsieur Herondale.”
Cordelia privately agreed. The Mask frightened her sometimes, when she could not tell what James was thinking, but it certainly had its uses. Wearing it, James seemed invulnerable.
“Is that a compliment?” Christopher asked curiously. “Doesn’t it mean ‘cold blood’？”
“Coming from Matthew, it is definitely a compliment,” Anna said with a laugh; she’d appeared at the table quite suddenly, Magnus Bane in tow. He was wearing a light blue tailcoat with gold buttons, a gold waistcoat, taupe knee breeches, and buckled boots. He looked like pictures Cordelia had seen of men at the court of the Sun King.
“You all know Magnus Bane, of course?” Anna gestured to the tall figure standing next to her.
“It’s my understanding,” Cordelia said, “that the question is never whether you know Magnus Bane. The question is always whether Magnus Bane knows you.”
“Oh, I like that,” Anna said, clearly pleased. “Very clever, Daisy.”
Magnus, to his credit, looked a bit abashed. It was a strange effect alongside his general level of glamorousness; he and Anna—in a polished black suit and sky-blue waistcoat, her family’s ruby necklace at her throat—made quite a sartorial pair. “Congratulations. I wish you and James all the happiness in the world.”
“Thank you, Magnus,” Cordelia said. “It’s good to see you. Do you think there’s any chance you’ll be staying in London permanently?”
“Perhaps,” said Magnus. He had been in and out of London for the past few months, sometimes present, often away. “First I must depart for the Cornwall Institute, to undertake a project there. Tomorrow, in fact.”
“And what project is that?” Matthew asked. “Something glamorous, secret, and admirable?”
“Something dull,” Magnus said firmly, “but well paying. I’ve been assigned the task of conducting a survey of the spell books at the Cornwall Institute. Some may be dangerous, but others could be indispensable in the hands of the Spiral Labyrinth. Jem—Brother Zachariah, I should say—will be accompanying me; it seems he is the only Shadowhunter trusted by both the Clave and the Spiral Labyrinth.”
“You’ll be in good company, then,” Cordelia said. “But I’m sorry that you’ll be leaving London. James and I were hoping to invite you to dinner at our new house.”
“Not to worry,” Magnus said, “you will not be without my radiance for long. I should be back in a fortnight. And then we celebrate.”
Matthew held up a hand. “I demand to also be invited to dinner with Magnus. I will not be scorned.”
“Speaking of scorning,” murmured Lucie. Out of nowhere had appeared Ariadne Bridgestock, looking quite lovely in a rose-colored dress with gold passementerie braiding.
“There you are,” Ariadne said. “James, Cordelia. Congratulations.” Then, without pause, she turned to Anna. “Would you take a turn about the room with me, Miss Lightwood?”
Cordelia exchanged a look of interest with Matthew, who gave a tiny shrug. His ears had perked up, though, like a cat’s.