A Familiar, Unfamiliar Face

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After her conversation with Mr Gray, Jessie didn't expect to ever be let out of the room until she caved to his demands, but he continued to surprise her. Three days following their meeting, an automaton girl appeared in her room once more, pulled back the heavy, lace curtains on the window, and announced, in her tinny, pre-programmed voice, that Jessie had the freedom of the manor and its grounds. Jessie waited for her to add as long as she agreed to the terms, but that clause never came and the girl left the room. Another automaton girl arrived in the room after her and said that she was her lady's maid for as long as she remained at the manor. A procession of automatons carrying illustrious dresses bearing voluminous skirts, rich colours, and intricate patterns followed after the lady's maid, and the lady's maid requested to know which one Jessie wished to wear today. If there were none that matched her tastes, the maid added, the master would have that rectified immediately. Jessie picked at random one with a white, frilled bodice and a layered blue skirt, and as the lady's maid drew a bath, another automaton brought her breakfast. Though it was comprised of a golden bread and eggs, jam tarts, and fresh fruits, Jessie had no stomach for the food. What was the cost of all these luxuries? They certainly couldn't be given to her for free.

When she was washed and dressed, the automaton girls left, except for the lady's maid, who seated herself at a plush, tan, armchair near Jessie's door and informed her that she would be there whenever she wanted her. Jessie did not like having to refer to her as 'the lady's maid', and she asked her if she had a name. She did not answer. Defeated, Jessie left the room and the manor building as soon as she could.

The smell of shrubbery and distant pollution had never been so sweet. Jessie had never given much thought to how Miss Gray must have felt after being freed from The Dark House, and now she knew exactly the emotion. It was like a veil being pulled away from your body, feeling the fragrant hair flowing through your hair and caressing your skin. The manor's grounds were wide and lush, shrubs trimmed to the shapes of swans and doves and animals from the east. Downturned bell flowers and pale flowers tinted by hints of red or purple in beds glistened in the sunlight with dew sprinkled on their petals. The mangled automaton guards marking the perimeter contrasted terribly with the beauty they surrounded.

As much as Jessie appreciated the beauty of the grounds, there was not much to do other than look at the scenery. She suspected that if she were mundane, she could be entertained for hours at an end by the mere beauty of it, but since she was cursed by a shadowhunter's brain, she soon found herself growing uninterested. Jessie was beginning to turn away and return inside when she spotted the sunlight gleaming off something dark and glossy, then soon she saw a girl stood by a clothesline. For a moment Jessie puzzled over if the girl was a human or automaton, but the moment she turned so Jessie could see her, and she caught sight of the girl's eyes, and she knew at once that she was human. The girl was small, almost fragile looking, like a fine china doll, porcelain skin, gleaming black hair and large, deep, blue eyes.

"Are you a human?" the girl called. Her voice was strangely commanding for someone of her build, "Don't answer; I can tell you are. Your eyes are far too pretty. Could you come over here?"

Jessie did as the girl asked. The girl held up Jessie's discarded gear and fixed her with an overt gaze, "Is this yours?"

"It is," Jessie despised having to say that.

The girl looked from the gear to Jessie, "I can't imagine you wearing something like this."

"Neither can I," Jessie bit her lip, "But unfortunately, I have."

"You don't like fighting, I take it." Jessie nearly gasped. How did this girl know what gear was meant for? Was she a shadowhunter? There weren't any marks on her skin that Jessie could see, though Jessie was shadowhunter, too, and her skin was bear of those barbaric etchings. The girl went on, asking if Jessie was from the London Institute, and reacted to her answer of yes with an overly nonchalant nod of her head, almost as if she was faking coolness. She handed the dried gear back to Jessie and went on to explain that she and her family were custodians of the manor, and they lived in the west wing of the manor. No, they did not command the automatons, and neither did they know what 'the master' was planning by allowing her to roam the manor as she wished.

After she exhausted things to say, the girl began to leave, but then a thought came to Jessie. She asked the girl what her name was, and when she answered, Jessie already knew, by her high cheekbones and the fire that resided within her delicate figure, that she would answer: "Cecily Herondale."

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