A/N: Thank you all for your amazing support (and for your concern for my dog. it means a lot.)

ChaseThisLightWithMe edits the stuff I'm writing. She's a gem.

The morning following his encounter with Magnus, Alec woke up with a terrible migraine. It hurt to look at a world that suddenly decided to become a cheerful and sunny place.

June was approaching. There was the thinnest patch of sunlight streaming in from between the bed curtains, creating a line of warmth against Alec's quilts – and normally, Alec would throw the curtains open to seek it out, especially since sun was a rare sight in London. That day, however, all Alec wanted to do was to bury himself under the covers. That seemed like an ill idea when it turned out his body felt hot and clammy – he was running a fever. He was having chest pains. His bones felt heavy, like there was not enough skin and too much marrow and he was bursting at the joints. He groaned, reaching out with his arm to ring for Simon and ask him to tell Isabelle he wouldn't be coming downstairs today.

Isabelle wouldn't believe him apparently, because she burst into his bedroom a few minutes later. She threw open the curtains around Alec's bed and said accusatorily, "You disappeared last night."

Alec grunted at the assault of light, burying his face further into his pillow, but otherwise said nothing. Isabelle continued, "I was hoping to dance with you."

Still nothing. Alec could picture her standing there, with her hands on her hips, looking at him disapprovingly.

"I danced with Magnus, though," she added, and when that caused no reaction, she asked, "Alec, what's wrong?" She perched on the edge of Alec's bed and rubbed at his arm. "Please talk to me."

Alec mumbled something in response, but Isabelle sighed, "I can't understand you when you talk to your pillow like that."

So he sat up, shivering when the fresh air in the room hit his skin, and squinted at his sister grumpily. Isabelle smiled at his expression, pleased to see his face, but her smile faded quickly and she said, "Have you been crying?"

"No," Alec said quickly. He put his hands against his cheeks in a defensive gesture – they were burning. He knew that there were red splotches across them. "I don't feel well."

"Why? What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing happened, Isabelle. I just don't feel well, physically." He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead on top of them. "I think I have a fever."

Isabelle was silent for a beat and then she stated, "You aren't lying." Alec glared at her. "Do you want me to send for a doctor? Should I tell Mother?"

"Don't call the doctor, there's no need," Alec assured her. "You will have to inform Mother though. I won't be coming anywhere with you today."

"Alright, I will. Do you need anything else?"

"No. Just a day or two of peace."

She rolled her eyes, knowing that the remark was also about her. She stood up. "I will invite Aline over. So you don't die of boredom."

Alec shook his head. "No, Isabelle. Because then you will have to ask Sebastian too. And he will make you talk to him."

"No one will make me do anything. I do what I want. I will talk to him willingly."

"What?" Alec's eyes widened. "Does it mean that—"

"It means that I will talk to him, Jesus Christ, Alec. Not every action has double meaning. It's just a conversation."

"You do realize that there's no such thing as 'just conversation' in our world, don't you?"

Isabelle looked at him, a bit sadly. "You've become such a cynic, Alec. Aren't you living proof that conversation and friendship don't have to lead to romance and end in marriage?"

It was probably a remark about him and Aline, but it sounded a hell of a lot like something else in Alec's life, some other 'friendship' that didn't end well at all. He winced. "Well, I wouldn't advise you to follow my example."

Isabelle frowned. "There it is again. I wish I could help you, Alec. I wish you'd let me help you."

Alec turned his back on her and pulled the quilt over his head. "I think I will go back to sleep," he mumbled. He didn't want to see her crestfallen expression. He knew Isabelle was mostly disappointed in him – for not being stronger.

Soon after Isabelle had left, he started sweating and shivering in turns. His body was burning up – and he didn't know if it was remembering Magnus' touch or violently wanting to get rid of it. He bit his lips until they started bleeding, just to taint the memory of last night's kiss. Throughout it all, he didn't throw away the covers – he wanted to keep the ache and the longing inside himself and choke and smother and crush it until it let go of him.

Aline managed to come by two days later and even negotiated a separate room where she could talk to Alec openly. Simon was supposed to act as their chaperone, but he also did what he was asked and left them alone. Isabelle somehow forgot to warn Alec beforehand, so he was forced to dress quickly while Aline waited for him. He hadn't left the bed those past two days. He stumbled into the room drowsy, tousle-haired and a little out of breath.

Aline grinned at the sight he was making. She said, "You look terrible."

"It's good to see you, too."

Aline was wearing a light pink gown that complimented her complexion. It was truly wonderful to see her, and Alec had no difficulty returning Aline's smile.

She patted a place on the chaise-longue, inviting him to sit beside her. Alec complied. "I almost envy you," she said. "You have been spared endless hours of boring, exhausting events."

Alec rolled his eyes. "I'm certain it wasn't all that bad."

"It was, because you weren't there. I missed you at my side." The warmth and honesty in her eyes made Alec smile broadly. "Alright, so perhaps not all of it was awful, but I've become a bit… weary," she sighed. "I miss the quiet, I miss watching the sunrise, and I miss—I miss home."

"I know what you mean."

Aline took his hand and placed it in her lap, and began following the blue veins with her fingertips. It tickled.

It was amazing how they could talk openly to each other, about everything they wanted to share. Still, there were things they were both omitting, and they were aware of them. Alec noticed how sometimes Aline would stare into space, a vacant look on her face – then she would turn, barely noticeable, as if she expected someone to be there. She was clearly used to someone's presence at her side, someone that was currently away. And there it was again, when she started talking about home, that silent melancholy that she now was mapping across Alec's wrist. Alec didn't ask, because he knew she would tell him if she wanted to, but he also knew that Aline saw the looks of sadness he would shoot her, too.

What he didn't know, however, was that Aline had noticed many similar signs in him. So it caught him by surprise when she asked him, straight from the shoulder, as they did with each other, "Alec, are you in love with someone?"

Alec's hand, the one she was playing with, instantly curled into a fist. She let go of him and Alec moved his hand to his own lap. "Aline, I thought we agreed on not being interested in romance. Don't reproach me now." He tried to joke, but he saw that it wasn't working when her facial expression turned stern.

He gave in and said, "I am. But it is unrequited." He swallowed with difficulty. He knew it was true, but it was still painful to say it out loud.

"How do you know?"

He looked at her – it wasn't what he expected Aline to say. Her almond-shaped eyes were attentive and intense, and he saw sympathy there, but not a trace of pity. He focused his gaze on his hands. "There might have been something once, but there isn't anymore."

"Come on, Alec. It's rarely that simple." Aline tapped his chin when he stayed silent for too long and still refused to meet her eye. "Don't hide from me, Alec."

He sprang to his feet, a little irritated now. "He's spoken for." His eyes widened when he realized what exactly he just said, and he fought down the urge to clamp a hand on his mouth. He whipped around to look at her, close to begging, "Aline, I'm sorry, it was clearly a slip of the tongue, I obviously meant—Please—"

She looked up at him, a bit sadly, as if she was disappointed. Alec was terrified. What if she was disgusted—What if she was going to tell someone—"I'm in love with someone, too," she said, and Alec felt a spike of irrational annoyance, because he just told her his greatest secret and she was making it about herself—"Her name is Helen."

"Oh."

She smiled, a trace of bitterness in the corners of her mouth. "I think 'oh' sums it up pretty nicely, actually." She continued after Alec returned and sat beside her, "She's back home. We're neighbours. She didn't come to London this Season because her family is undergoing some money troubles right now, so she stayed to help her uncle."

"How long? And does she know?"

"A couple of years. And yes, she knows." She smiled to herself, a secretive smile, probably remembering a conversation she must have had with Helen about it. "We are together, you could say."

"Really? How?" Alec was eager to hear more. He wondered how it was possible to maintain a forbidden affair, and to be allowed to love someone who was supposed to be out of reach. Then he remembered himself, "I'm—sorry. I'm being rude."

"No, it's alright, Alec. It must be relieving to hear that you're not alone, I understand." Alec nodded, amazed. "We hide, mostly. We're being careful. But it's easy in Helen's house, she has many siblings, and it's always loud and busy and lovely. I think her uncle would even let me live with them. They could use some help."

"Are you being serious? Is it possible?" Did those two have a future together? Could they stay together, and love each other, and have a family? Alec's eyes were wide with wonder.

"Ah, I wish. It's my dream." Aline sighed wistfully. "And for now, it is just a dream. My parents… they obviously don't know. And they won't let me." Alec's shoulders sagged, but apparently Aline wasn't finished. "But I will talk to them, and I will ask them. I haven't yet, so how would I know? I have to try."

"That's really brave."

"Is it? I have to do that, if I want to be happy. It's more of a self-preservation instinct."

"I wouldn't say that," Alec shook his head. "Keeping things quiet and not saying anything would be self-preservation. Protecting yourself. Instead, you're willing to risk everything you have—"

"Helen is everything I have. I would risk losing her if I didn't try."

Alec nodded, pensive. "I wish you to be happy, Aline." She squeezed his hand. "Thank you for telling me."

"Well, you made me do it after witnessing you bottling up all your feelings. It hurt to look at it." Alec snorted. "Will you tell me his name, now?"

"I—can't, Aline." He looked at her. "I just can't."

"I have my suspicions."

He laughed. "Well, perhaps one day you will find out if they're correct. But not right now."

"Alright." She pulled up her feet and seated herself cross-legged facing Alec, put her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands. They were lucky there wasn't anyone else in the room except them, because it was a very unladylike position. Alec, feeling rebellious, mirrored her. "Now tell me about this illness of yours, and how I can help."

Alec closed his eyes, feeling the sunrays weave between the light straws of his hat and land on his face. There was a breeze which was making his hair spill in his eyes, and the long, pale ribbon of Isabelle's hat was hitting him on the elbow without rhythm. The air was sharp, mingled with the distinctive smell of horses and sweat.

The steady sound of horseshoes pounding against the ground was approaching quickly, and soon the fastest jockeys passed by in a flurry of excited screaming, rousing a puff of wind that caused a few hats to fall off their owners' heads. Isabelle let out a quiet yelp but managed to catch her hat just in time, and to Alec's right, Jace cheered enthusiastically.

It was Alec's first day outside after his unexpected, but short, indisposition. He was feeling better, and he was glad he could attend the horse racing day. Many of England's finest horses came here today, and Alec loved watching those beautiful animals. The way their coat glistened in the sun with good grooming and sweat was mesmerizing. Of course Alec much preferred racing in less constricted areas, with much more greenery, but since he wasn't taking part today, he had no complaints.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Jace asked after another race was over. They were wearing similar outfits today, suited for the event: white shirts with white cravats, simple black tailcoats, brown fitted trousers, and knee-high boots.

"Yes, very much so," Alec answered. "I saw that the horse you were betting on won again."

Isabelle giggled. "Shh, gambling is a frowned-upon activity!"

"It was just a figure of speech, Isabelle," Alec said.

"I don't know, brother," Jace laughed. "It may not be just a figure of speech in my case."

He laughed when Alec hit him on the shoulder. A few scandalized gasps followed Alec's action, but they were swallowed by the giggles of some ladies standing close to them. Jace shot them a brilliant grin.

"I'm going to get something to drink," Alec declared. "Do you want anything?"

Jace and Isabelle shook their heads. "Just hurry back before the start of the next race."

Alec hopped down the stairs, moving away from the stands in search of a lemonade stall. It was quieter here. Everyone's attention was on the racetrack, and there were only a few slothful members of the public wandering around. Nobody paid Alec much attention – except one person. Magnus Bane barred Alec's way and it kind of made Alec's heart stutter in his chest.

Magnus was looking a little more like himself today: his hair was hanging in loose strands around his face, finally free of brilliantine; he was wearing a weird waistcoat and the buttons on his tailcoat were polished and golden and reflecting the sunlight, making Alec squint his eyes. He was a walking sun.

"You were gone," Magnus said in place of a regular greeting. "I thought you left."

"I was sick." Alec frowned. "What are you doing?"

"I—Are you feeling better?" Magnus looked him over, as if he was searching for visible signs of injury.

"Magnus, please. What do you want?"

Magnus' eyes widened a bit when he saw Alec visibly distance himself – he took a step back, mirroring Alec's movement. "Don't worry, I'm not going to touch you. I just want to—talk."

"About what? And why now?"

"It's just something you said to me," Magnus lowered his voice, "after I kissed you."

"It doesn't matter. I was angry, I probably didn't mean—"

"But it does! It kills me that you think so little of me – and yourself. When you said that I played with you, that what you and I have—had—was just an affair… Please, Alexander, you have to believe me. I did not know."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Alec pinched the bride of his nose.

"God!" Magnus exclaimed, frustration and something else audible in his voice, and then he murmured to himself, so quiet that Alec barely heard him, "I hate that we have to whisper. All we ever did was hide." He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, tried again, "I didn't know I was engaged when I was with you. I wasn't engaged then. I owed Camille's family a favour. A big favour. A couple of years ago, they did something to protect me. They didn't ask for anything else in return, just that I'd owe them a favour, a debt of obligation that I would have to pay off one day. And that day has come. They came to me and told me I was engaged to miss Belcourt. I had no choice. Alec, please."

Alec looked at Magnus' trembling hands, saw the desperation embedded in the lines on Magnus' face that weren't there when they first met.

He said, "It doesn't matter anymore. I don't have to know this. It doesn't change anything."

He wanted to touch him, hold his heart in his hands as it was breaking over and over again, in hopes of keeping it intact and safe and healthy, stop it from spilling through his fingers, but his hands were too weak, and Magnus' heart out of his reach.

"But do you understand?" Magnus said. "I loved you—I still love you."

Alec nodded. "Yes, I understand." He almost smiled, with one corner of his mouth and immense sadness, because he did understand – Magnus wasn't saying those things to ask for forgiveness, or to arouse compassion, or to point out how truly tragic their situation was. Magnus was making a point. He wanted to make sure that Alec knew he was worthy, and important, and that Magnus' love for him had been, and still was, real and pure and uncorrupted. He'd found Alec and stood before him not to ask anything of him, but to let him know that he was loved.

Alec touched the brim of his hat with his fingertips. "Good day, prince Magnus."

Magnus lifted his hand in a goodbye.

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