Chain of Gold (The Last Hours, #1)

by Cassandra Clare

James had moved closer to her; she could smell the scent of him, of sandalwood soap and a mixture of leather and ink. She felt the brush of his hand against her cheek, his thumb softly tracing her cheekbone. “Cordelia!” Both James and Cordelia turned, startled: Sona was standing on the threshold of the house, candlelight burning behind her. A silk roosari covered her dark hair and she was beaming. “Cordelia joon, do come inside before you catch cold. And Mr. Herondale, it was kind of you to escort Cordelia home. You are truly a gentleman.” Cordelia looked at her mother in surprise. She hadn’t expected Sona to be in such a good mood. James’s eyebrow flicked upward, black as the wing of a crow, if the wing of the crow had a faintly sardonic air. “It’s a pleasure to escort Daisy anywhere.” “Daisy,” Sona repeated. “Such a charming pet name. Of course, you were children together, and now you are reunited and quite grown-up. It’s all so delightful.” Ah. Cordelia realized what was going on with her mother. James was eligible—very eligible. As the son of the head of the London Institute, he might be expected to wield significant influence in the future, or even to become the head of an Institute himself, a job that paid far more than the salary provided by the Clave to a typical Shadowhunter. Besides, he was charming when he was not wearing the Mask, and that sort of thing had an effect on mothers. At Sona’s urging, she and James climbed the steps to the front door of the house: w...

Sona is just like my mother 🤣