If we take care of the moments, the years will take care of themselves.

Maria Edgeworth

x

Jordon awoke from his sleep when a youthful knight shook him lightly awake for his shift. He nodded his head to the man and slid off his bed to the basin of water set on a small table. He rinsed his face and rubbed soap into his palms. It was presumably eight in the morning. He glanced to his window and watched as the sun rose steadily upwards, shining light on the old castle.

When his armor was worn and tidy, he marched down the main hall, raising a hand of greeting to the other guards who grinned and smiled at his presence. He entered the throne room and set his sword down silently, bowing so deeply his hair touched his knees. "Rise, Jordon." He did, staring at his future queen with a small nod. She appeared especially tired today. Of course, none of her attire would show that, but he had known her long enough to read at least some of her expressions. Indeed, she was stunning. No individual in the kingdom had her shade of crimson hair or her sharp green eyes, ruthless to all but few. If he had not met her at the mere age of seven, he'd have fallen in love with her.

He watched as she rose steadily, her visiting uncle, Oskar, observing her movements too. "It is time for our monthly evaluations. Inform the knights that all prisoners shall be brought here for further judgement on their trials."

"Yes, m'lady." He hurried out of the space, metal clanking noises echoing.

It was no easy job gathering those behind bars. He needed at least forty men to cover all escapes and thirty to take the captives up to the stairwell where the royals resided. He sighed and placed two fingers into his mouth, releasing three long whistles that eventually brought all of his companions together. "Evaluation will occur soon lads!" In amusement, he heard some groans and complaining mumbles. "Bring forth all inmates from the dungeons and do not, under any circumstance, hurt, taunt, or abuse them. Stay vigilant and have the cuffs on tightly before any movement is performed. Is that clear?"

A chorus of 'yes, sir' resounded. The small crowd dispersed into the prison cells, each responsible for their own detainee. Jordon marched into the solidarity room, and with a key, unlocked the cement door. He inched closer to the man and realized that his back was lying against a wall, eyes trained on him lazily. "Time to face your fate, fool." Jordon's lips curled in disgust and he leaned forward in a crouch, untying the bonds on the man's ankles.

"Hell, who knew the queen's mutt was just as cruel as her?" The question was met with a solid punch to the prisoner's face, disregarding some of his rules stated earlier.

"Stand up." Jordon ordered and he noticed that the boy was likely his own age. A young delinquent. He was struggling to rise. It seemed as though his ankle was twisted. Releasing a barely audible breath, the knight brought an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Come on, " he whispered. Jordon expected a sarcastic response back but silence was the only thing that followed. Together, they reached the staircase. The two stared at the amount of steps they would have to endure. Jordon's face was spotted with sweat. The prisoner's chest was rising and falling quickly, his hold on the knight tight.

"Wait." Jordon peered at him, eyebrows lifting.

"What is it?"

"I can not move forward. I need water."

"You will receive your water at a later deemed period. This is no time to take luxuries. The princess awaits us."

Jordon wondered if they were late. He hoped not. With a frustrated groan, he asked, "If you are lying, I will-"

"I am not. Behead me if I am. Just give me water."

"Hold onto this pillar. Your hands are cuffed. If you even try to escape, I will have your limbs cut, one by one. Understood?"

The boy slumped forward. "Crystal." It came out as a croak.

The knight pushed himself into a guard's room and grabbed at a container of water that was halfway filled. He would have to apologize for stealing it later, he reminded himself.

When he reached the stairwell again, he was surprised and relieved to find that the inmate had not gone astray.

"Here."

"My hands-"

"You keep asking for favors, eh? Sneaky bastard." Jordon lifted the bowl a few inches above the man's mouth, the liquid greedily dripping down his chin and neck. When the bowl was empty, he laughed.

"You may not be so awful, mutt."

x

"Where have you been, Jordon?" Clarissa's voice rang through the court. He winced and bowed once more in apology.

"I apologize, your grace. The prisoner could not go on without a drink of water. I practically had to carry him here myself."

The princess tapped her fingers against the arm of her throne. "Make sure this does not occur-"

Oskar Morgernstern sprang from his position in the back and the people of the royal residence halted their quiet chatter. "How do you help a prisoner? Have you no shame in assisting that who breached our kingdom's name?" The volume of his voice was ringing and some cowered at the vicious light in his dark eyes that resembled his brother's, Valentine. He was always a large man, muscular and fit for being middle aged. Not many defied his orders, for they faced a multitude of punishments, each worse than the next.

Jordon, in respect, kept his head lowered. He felt ashamed at his behavior. The lord was right. He was an imbecile for disregarding their principles. "I understand, my lord. I shall accept any consequence that may be issued. Your dishonor is mine. Forigve me."

Oskar clenched his jaw. His anger was still evident. "Twenty whips. All while in the eyes of the public." Viewers gasped. Several dukes nodded their heads in agreement with what was announced. The wives of high households sent smiles to one another, sly and mischievious.

Before Jordon could respond, Clarissa spoke, "Jordon is under my authority. I am aware he made a mistake, but you, uncle, have no control over him."

Oskar's eyes widened. The princess straightened, her face not meeting his. "Since we have such an adoring audience, we will discuss this matter later."

"Jordon, the prisoners. Bring them forward. Where is my squire?" A chubby boy scrambled to her side and clumsily played a short note on his trumpet.

"Achila Molnar! Present yourself to Princess Clarissa of the North: the Shadowhunt."

Clarissa eyed a short man, bald and spotted with grime. He kneeled, his hands trembling feverishly.

"What is your crime, Molnar?" She asked.

"I-I am a thief, my lady."

"And what do you suppose a reasonable punishment is for a man like yourself?"

"Free me, I beg of you. Place me on probation. Track me if you must. I shall never reach a hand to steal again."

Clarissa's orbs narrowed. "I do not believe you."

Molnar began to cry. His words could not be understood. Chuckles were heard by the court's people.

"You will have three fingers cut. I will grant you the privilege of choosing those three. You can be released after that."

He screamed, a long screech that caused the knights to drag him forcefully away. "Please! Please! Do not do this to me-" Molnar was pulled back into the dungeons.

The princess remained composed. Jordon stood alongside her golden throne. His sword was protectively placed in front of her body.

"Raulyin Ennis! Present yourself to Princess Clarissa of the North: the Shadowhunt."

This time, an old man appeared. One of his eyes was white and swallowed up, the other twitching violently.

"What is your crime, Raulyin?"

"Rape." Clarissa stiffened and Jordon sent her a glance that was ignored. "I raped children."

"How many?" Her tone was strangely quiet and strangled.

"Enough that I cannot count, your grace."

"What do you suppose is an acceptable consequence for your actions?"

"Prison for the rest of my life, if you please."

Clarissa shook her head. "The rest of your life is too little for my liking. You are to be executed. Take him away."

The sequence continued. Ladies followed. Some who were thieves, others who had betrayed information to enemies. Nearly all received punishments they had not proposed.

"Jonathon Herondale! Present yourself to Princess Clarissa of the North: the Shadowhunt."

He stumbled to his knees and Clarissa heard him grunt in pain. He peered up and their eyes clashed. His face remained still.

It took her a moment to declare the question. "What is your crime, Jonathon?"

"Insulting the soon-to-be queen." He said it slowly, as if he was trying to force her to respond.

It was her uncle who answered. "And who are you to slander a daughter of royalty? I believe I will handle your punishment since you are so keen on our kingdom. You shall serve here as a knight." Jordon nearly choked and his sword slid from his grasp. The cavaliers furiously looked to one another. Conversation began to build up in the room. Jonathon's face was tight with something unreadable. His shoulders were rigid.

"Silence!" Oskar smirked cruelly, the attention only broadening his spotlight. "Under Jordon's tutelage, you will serve your time in this castle for the rest of your life. It will be a pleasure to work under those you appreciate so much."

"My family-where will they go?" His words were hollow and empty.

"Oh, that technicality?" He brought his hand to his chin. "My niece will arrange a location for them to stay. If you are obedient, they will stay alive. If not, well, you can presume the rest of that happy tale."

Jonathon didn't nod. He didn't even answer. His head was bent downwards so that his tawny hair fell forward in a soft mess.

"Court evaluation adjourned. Return to your normal activities." The princess rose from her throne and stepped gracefully to her chambers.

x

Jordon was in the infirmary. He monitored Jonathon, watching as the nursed tightened the cloth around his torso firmly. He stifled a shout and rolled to his side, mumbling some obscenities. "How long will he stay here, do you believe?"

Aline shrugged, wiping dried blood off her hands. "Give him two days. He can train with his ankle condition. It will be difficult, but, I suppose he deserves it."

Jordon nodded and took one last glimpse at the now slumbering boy. He left.

x

"Are you alright, Clarissa?" She turned, plucking a small rose from the extended gardens. It was Simon. He was wearing casual clothing. A yellow tunic and white pants. No one ever came to the gardens except an old woman named Eliza, who kept the plants nourished and growing.

"As well as I will ever be." She sat on the metal bench that overlooked rolling hills and tiny huts that sprawled in areas far away. He sat beside her. She could feel his brown eyes on her. Worried and concerned.

"It has been a week since Prince Sebastian has voyaged with your father. Has he sent you word of his safety?"

He expected an ill retort, but all she did was tug a tiny paper from the hem of her dress. It was crumbled slightly and wrinkled. He straightened it as best as he could and read:

Dearest Clarissa,

I have arrived safely to the island. It is said to be filled with mercenaries and private groups of assassins. Your father and I, along with a few dozen knights, will try to take them as captives or kill them if they fight. I hope all goes well. How are you? Are you holding down the fort? Ha ha. I miss you, if you care to know. I hold your necklace every time I think of you. I know you cannot send a letter back but I wish this brings you some sort of solace. Stay soft and kind, Clarissa.

My heart and soul are yours if you want them,

Sebastian Verlac.

Simon gave the letter back to her. "He does not write his royal position next to his name.."

Clarissa sighed. "I do believe he likes to think himself more than just a future king."

"Do you love him?'

"That is too strong a word for what I feel. Time will tell." He lifted his fingers to her hair. Trailed them slowly through her red strands. She did not say anything, only continued observing the horizon.

x

He rubbed his eyelids and winced when a sharp pain ignited his chest. He gazed at the ceiling, white and blank, contrasting with the sight he was so accustomed to seeing: the night sky or tall trees and dark forests. It didn't take long for him to remember his situation. He fisted his hands and stared at the tiny, white scars on his knuckles. He had thought about escaping, but that seemed fatal and impossible. Too many guards covered the kingdom's castle and even if he did manage to run away from them, where would he go? Only the princess knew where his family was and it seemed unlikely she would ever tell him. He wondered if Alexander was okay. He didn't need to kid himself. Alexander was a brick wall. He would keep Isabelle and Max safe. At least, that was the only thing that came out of his circumstance.

"How old are you?" Jace already knew it was that knight.

"Twenty-two."

He came into view, wearing shining armor. The only items missing were his shield and sword. "We will start training in three days time. You shall stay here till all is well."

Jace nodded. "That is what is expected of me, after all."

"If you are worried about your family, pay no mind. The princess has assured them protection and shelter."

Jace, at the mention of his siblings, leaped forward so quickly, he felt something in his chest tighten. He shouted, clutching at the blankets around him. Jordon hurried to his side, gently nudging him back onto the mattress. "Rest. This is not the time. Do what is asked of you and I promise that I will do all I can for you to see them."

Before Jace could respond, darkness wiped his vision clean.

x