Someone was in his room.
Alexander shot up in bed, reaching for the small handgun in the beside table when his sister came into sight.
"Damn it, Isabelle," he swore.
"You wouldn't have shot me," she said, sitting on the edge of his bed. She was fully dressed and ready for the day.
Christmas morning had been uneventful and quiet. The Lightwood siblings spent the day relaxing after exchanging gifts. True to his word, Mr. Davies had delivered a list to him after dinner. A dozen names and their corresponding salaries were listed. Jace left a few days later on the afternoon train north.
"Lydia rang last night," Isabelle continued. "I invited her to dinner tonight."
"Tonight?"
"No better time than the present," Isabelle said. "And Simon will be joining us as well. I thought a small dinner party might be nice."
"Could I invite a business associate?" Alexander asked.
"How old is he?"
"Does it matter?"
"I don't want a stuffy old man spoiling our fun."
"No, he's our age," Alexander said.
"Then telephone him. The more the merry, I suppose. And you've got an appointment today."
"With who?"
"The psychotherapist. I'm taking you."
"You don't trust me to drive myself?"
"Not this time," Isabelle said, stalking out of his room.
.............
The office was just as horrible as he had pictured it.
Small and confining, only one window let light in. Alexander didn't feel inclined to tell the old man anything. He had told him to lay on a reclined couch, and the therapist had hidden himself out of sight.
"Why don't we begin with why you're here today?"
"I'm having nightmares," Alexander admitted.
"About?"
He couldn't find the words to describe the dreams. He could picture them so vividly, but to put it into words felt impossible.
"Mr. Lightwood?"
"This isn't going to work," Alexander said, sitting up. "I apologize for taking up your time." He snatched his coat up and flung open the door to the lobby.
Isabelle didn't even looked surprised.
..........
"No discussing work," Isabelle ordered, as the siblings stood in the entryway awaiting their guests. "Not with this Mr. Bane fellow or Simon."
"What does my work have to do with Simon?" Alexander asked.
"Don't be rude," Isabelle said. "Being an author is a noble line of work."
"Perhaps. But it does make one a rather dull conversationalist."
"How so?"
"They don't know how to converse in a world they can't manipulate."
"Alec," Isabelle pressed.
"I'll be pleasant," he assured her. Mr. Davies opened the front doors and Simon entered, Lydia at his side.
The Lightwood siblings greeted their respective betrothed and Isabelle led them into the library to await Magnus and dinner.
The difference between the couples was stark. Isabelle was clinging to Simon's arm and looking up at him with shining eyes. Lydia and Alexander sat on opposite ends of the loveseat, with an awkward gap between them.
Mr. Davies opened the doors to the library, with mild shock on his face.
So he had recognized Magnus.
Magnus stepped in as Alexander and Simon rose.
Alexander had only expected a reaction from Isabelle, not Lydia as well.
"Magnus Bane?" Lydia asked, incredulous.
Magnus' face fell in shock. "Miss Branwell, you've certainly grown up."
Isabelle rose, moving to Alexander. She grabbed his arm and whispered, "What is he doing here?"
"Business, I told you--"
"No, Alexander, you didn't," Isabelle snapped. She glanced back. Lydia, Magnus, and Simon were speaking, but Magnus' eyes were watching Isabelle and Alexander. "I thought he was on board with you-- I thought he died."
"Me too," Alexander said, softly. "Isabelle, why are you angry?"
"This makes everything more complicated. Having him around can only hurt you, Alexander," Isabelle said. "That's what happened last time."
Isabelle let her hand fall away from Alexander's arm.
"It's not him that makes me sad, Isabelle; it's the fact that I can't have him."
Alexander stepped away from her, to join the others.
"And how do you two know each other?" Alexander asked Lydia and Magnus.
"Miss Branwell--"
"Lydia," she insisted.
"Lydia's father was my boss before I came here."
"You worked here?" Lydia asked, before Alexander could react.
"It's a very long story," Magnus said. "But yes."
"You must have quite the story," Lydia said.
"I'd love to hear it," Simon interjected. "I'm a writer, you know. . ."
........
The house was quieter with less staff.
Alexander liked that.
Once Isabelle's death stare had subsided, dinner had been quiet. Simon had disappeared soon after dinner-- something about inspiration and needing to write in solace. He and Magnus were in his mother's sunroom, watching the sunset in distance while the women talked in the sitting room. The room was dark now that most of the oranges and purples of the sun had disappeared.
They were sitting on a long sofa, likely one with an illustrious history, Magnus with his feet folded under him, and Alexander with his long legs stretched out across it. They were silent, simply enjoying the presence of another human who understood.
It was hardly a compromising position when Lydia flew into the room, but Alexander shot up anyways.
"We need to talk," she said. Even in the dark room, both men could see her red face.
"Okay," Alexander said hesitantly, rising. He wanted to look back at Magnus, to ask for advice on dealing with destraut women, when Isabelle came through the doors with just as much fury.
"Lydia," Isabelle sighed, as if she had been looking for the other girl.
"Isabelle, I can't keep this a secret," Lydia said.
"We'll figure this out," Isabelle swore.
"Well now you have to tell us," Magnus said. All eyes in the room shot daggers into his back as he turned back to watch the night sky.
"I'm pregnant," Lydia confessed.
Alexander blinked a couple of times as the words processed in his brain. He heard Magnus rise from the couch and Isabelle make a bunch of promises about how it'd be okay.
When the room came into focus, Lydia was in Isabelle's arms and Magnus was halfway out the door.
"Whose is it?" Alexander asked.
"I was stupid," Lydia started. "It was some serving boy at a gala. I don't even know his name."
"It was before you," Isabelle added.
"How long had it been?" Alexander asked.
"Two months," Lydia said. "That's what the doctor believes."
Alexander did the math in rapid time. A story would have to be created, one that accounted for the fact that they weren't to be married for another month.
"I'm not angry," Alexander said. "And you were right to tell me now."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Why don't you sleep here tonight?" Alexander suggested. "Isabelle can find you a room and some clothes. We'll speak in the morning."
He left Isabelle to comfort Lydia, and left the room.
Alexander searched the house for him but Magnus had already gone.