Lucie had sidled into the chapel and was gazing around. “Honestly, James. Not the thing you should be thinking about now. I suppose it could have been Magnus; he’s been very helpful.” She popped back out of the chapel, holding a fistful of yellow roses. “There we go. Good luck, James. I have to get back to Daisy.” She glanced behind him, brightening. “Oh, look, Thomas and Christopher are here. Matthew can’t be far behind.”

James started across the room toward his friends, only to be descended upon by a whirl of aunts and uncles—Aunt Cecily and her husband, Gabriel Lightwood; Gabriel’s brother Gideon and his wife, Sophie, and with them, a woman he didn’t know.

Gideon clapped James on the shoulder. “James! You’re looking splendid.”

“What an excellent coat,” Gabriel said. “Did my daughter help you find that?”

“Alas, this isn’t Anna’s work,” said James, straightening his cuffs. “My father took me to his ancient tailor—who absolutely couldn’t understand why I wanted a coat in gold and not a more gentlemanly color, like black or gray.”

“Shadowhunters do not get married in gray,” said Cecily, her eyes sparkling. “And Will has been using that tailor for so long I have begun to wonder if perhaps he lost a bet to him at cards. Have you met Filomena yet?”

James glanced over at the woman standing beside his uncles. She was probably about Anna’s age, with smooth dark hair caught up at the nape of her neck. Her lips were very red, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded. She glanced at him and smiled.

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” James said.

“By the Angel, where are our manners?” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “James, may I present Filomena di Angelo? She has just arrived from Rome, on her travel year.”

“Are you the groom?” said Filomena, in heavily accented English. “What a waste. You are very handsome.”

“Well, you know what they say,” said James. “All the best men are either married or Silent Brothers.”

Cecily burst into giggles. James was spared from further discourse by the sudden appearance of Charles Fairchild, who cut into the conversation with a loud “Congratulations!” He slapped James enthusiastically on the back. “Have you seen either of your parents lately?”

Luckily, Will appeared, having apparently seen Charles’s bright red hair across the room. “Charles,” he said. “You were looking for us?”

“I wanted to confer with you about Paris,” Charles began, and pulled Will aside to speak in hushed but intense tones. The Lightwoods had fallen into a discussion with Filomena about the long absence of demons from London, and the Clave’s annoyance that their numbers were climbing back up again now, necessitating nightly patrols. Feeling there was little he could add to the conversation, James turned, intending to search for Matthew.

Standing in front of him, as if she had emerged, ghostlike, from a nearby wall, was Grace.