“James Herondale is a Shadowhunter like any other,” Tatiana ground out. “He is not the problem.” She glared. “Steel your nerve, girl. If ever I am able to teach you anything, let it be that you must steel your nerve. The world is hard, and it will work to destroy you. That is the nature of things.”

She stalked off before Grace could speak, and Grace silently vowed to herself that when it was again summer, and the Herondales returned, it would be different. She would try harder.

Summer came, after a long winter of being quiet and obedient to her mother, having only her times with Jesse to feel like a real person. They had continued training, in a fashion, though it was rather one-sided now that Jesse was a ghost.

Grace steeled her nerve as requested and arranged to meet with James, but when she first saw him, she cursed herself for the immediate pang of sorrow she felt at what was being asked of her. James had just gotten over scalding fever, as it transpired—but though he looked pale and delicate, he was full of energy and enthusiasm. He was happy to see Grace—happy to tell her all about another Shadowhunter named Cordelia Carstairs, who had been his nursemaid and companion in his illness. In fact, Grace quickly found that James was unwilling to shut up about this Miss Carstairs for even one minute.

“Well?” her mother snapped when Grace came into her study that afternoon.

Grace hesitated. “James has fallen in love with someone,” she said. “In the past months. I don’t think he can fall in love with me if he is already in love.”

“If there is a lack in you, it is a lack of will, not of power,” Tatiana scoffed. “He can be made to forget that he is in love. He can be made to feel anything you wish.”

“But—” Grace wanted to say that whether or not her power could make James forget this girl he loved, she was not sure whether she should do such a thing. James was, after all, her only real friend. Other than Jesse, who was her family and also a ghost, and thus doubly didn’t count. But she didn’t dare suggest anything of the sort to her mother. “Mama, my power doesn’t work on him. I promise I have tried. With others, all the tests you made me do in Paris—the effect was instantaneous. And it took no effort at all. With James, even trying very hard led to nothing.”

Tatiana looked at her wryly. “You silly girl. You think that your power doesn’t work on him because he’s in love with someone. But I have done some research these months myself, and in fact, it may be Herondale’s unclean blood that is the trouble.”

“What?” Grace said uncertainly.