Chapter Text
"Hear ye, hear ye! The quarterly holiday session of the Council will come to order!" Counsul Malachi Dieudonne called.
Every Shadowhunter of age settled into their seats, watching the Counsul and the Inquisitor stand on the raised platform in the center of the great Council chamber.
"The Solstice ceremony preparations are in order," Malik Malhotra said, rising. "The Iron Sisters have near finished preparation and swear that it will be done in time."
"Let's hope we don't have another debacle like five years ago," Inquisitor Imogen Wayland said. "The old ones nearly blew up in their hands."
"They are certain," Malik said, giving the Inquisitor a cool look.
"And the state of the treasury?" the Counsul asked. Malik sat.
Jeremy Pontmercy puffed himself up as he rose. "I have managed to pull in a 15% greater income-"
The Inquisitor rolled her eyes. "You managed to manipulate religious mundanes into giving us more money than they are mandated to, yes, we know and we don't care how you did it. Are we going to be able to cover all costs for the year, barring any unforeseen disasters, and still have money left for next?"
"Yes," he said, face going sullen.
"Good. Sit down."
Pontmercy scowled as he obeyed.
"So where are the children going this time?" Nasreen Chaudhury asked, not bothering to rise. "Am I still off from hosting them at the Winter Solstice?"
"Yes," Robert Lightwood snapped from across the room. "Why do you ask? You know you are!"
Nasreen's lips pursed. "Since I was mysteriously barred from hosting for the past ten years, my knowledge of the traditions around hosting have slipped my mind."
Madeleine Bellefleur shifted uncomfortably. "I believe it is the New York Institute this year."
"With Starkweather?" Senhor Montverde's scornful tone drew a reproachful glare from Maryse Lightwood.
"Starkweather," she said coolly, "was Jace Wayland's main tutor, and Jace is among- if not the- best in this generation. I see no problem with him keeping an eye on the children while we prepare, especially since this way we will not be pulling someone else from another job."
"I understand your sympathies," Elodie Verlac said, reaching over to pat Maryse's hand, "and I do see your point, but you understand our discomfort. Perhaps we may assign him an assistant? There are quite a few of them, and he hasn't had to move around much since the troubles. While training one boy is well and in his abilities, keeping an eye on all of them may overtax him."
"I can stay with them," Helen Blackthorn offered, her pointy ears turning red when all turned to look at her. "It would be a pleasure to assist my fellow Shadowhunters."
Arthur Blackthorn bit back a smile. His daughter had a tendency to volunteer for any task that involved the company of Aline Penhallow.
"Then that's settled!" Elodie said, smiling brightly. "Have we any other business today?"
"It is concluded," Consul Diuedonne said. "You are all dismissed."
"Wasn't even worth the bother of coming," Robert mumbled to his wife as they began to leave. "We didn't accomplish a thing. Might as well have just had Indentured send us the messages."
"We meet every time, Robert," Maryse said, as though it were part of a ritual. "Hello, Arthur! Is Ariadne doing better?"
"She got over her cold," Arthur Blackthorn said, smiling. "Drusilla is just as thrilled as she is. Did Max get over it as well?"
Maryse nodded. "He was insisting that Jace help him with swords within the hour of it clearing up."
"Ah, yes. Emma swears that this time she'll beat him in slaying demons."
Maryse laughed. "They always tie! Jace is swearing the same thing. They'll be bickering like this for the rest of their lives, I swear it."
"Eventually he'll have to yield," Arthur said, mouth twitching. "Emma is very forceful."
"That won't change anything," Robert said, shaking his head. "Jace doesn't bend for anyone. Particularly not when he's the one who's been living in New York. Come now, Maryse, we need to go."
Maryse inclined her head and took her husband's arm.
When the last person left, Malachi Dieudonne's mouth curled into a sneer.