A/N: Hey guys! I got this idea in art appreciation. I love this idea so much. It takes place in the renaissance and involves art and stuff. You'll see please enjoy.

2015

A tour group followed their guide through the newest exhibit in the Uffizi Gallery. "Jace Herondale's paintings have been famous for centuries, but they recently discovered that some of his most famous painting were actually done by his wife. It is well known that she was incredibly influential in his work after they were married, but they didn't realize how much. They found sketchbooks and journals explaining their relationship and how their works were created." The tour guide explained, shocking the crowd. "We have determined which paintings belong to whom. This is the first gallery that has ever featured Herondale's wife, Clarissa Herondale."

1503

"Clary what are you still doing in bed!" Her mother, Jocelyn, chided her, as she busted through her bedroom door. Is it a crime that she wanted to sleep in for once in her life? She groaned quietly, rolling into the silky pillows of her bed. She would never tell anyone this, but she rather enjoyed returning home since her husband died. She wasn't a fan of him, and was forced to marry him at 13. He was in his late 30's and very vulgar. They were married five years before he was mysteriously found dead. Clary thought he owed some men some money because of his gambling problem, but no one really did much about it. It was a known fact that they hated each other immediately after the wedding ceremony. He often went to whore houses on the outskirts of town to find pleasure elsewhere, figuring he had all the time in the world to create an heir. He didn't obviously. She was lucky the alliance between their two houses was kept because she didn't create an heir, but she was still returned home, thankfully. She knew the chance of anyone wanting to marry her again were slim to none, which she was ok with.

"Go away, mother." Clary threw a pillow at the woman, as Jocelyn ripped the overs off the bed. Jocelyn gasped in frustration, tearing the blankets off faster.

"It is already time for lunch, and here you are still lying in bed. Get up." She pulled at her arm, dragging her out of bed. Clary sighed heavily, following her mother to her wardrobe. "You know that the Blackthorn family is coming today. Their oldest son Mark has yet to marry, and your father and I want you to try to convince him to marry you." She pulled out one of my gown and corsets. She wrapped the corset around her daughter, as Clary held onto her bedpost. This was her least favorite part of getting dressed. The strings were pulled taught, making Clary gasp for breath.

"I told you I don't want to get married right now. My husband died 6 months ago. Everyone knows I'm used. I don't feel like being rejected." She bit out, as her mother tightened the strings even more. She inhaled a shaky breath, knowing what society said about her. The rumors circling around her marriage drove her crazy. She blamed her husband. Sebastian was one of the most annoying people she ever met, and it was his fault that she was stuck.

"Oh sweetheart, you're still young and beautiful." She mused, turning her around to face her. She fluffed her daughter's hair, making sure it framed her face correctly.

"I was with him for 5 years and never conceived. They will probably think I'm infertile." Clary used everything to her ability to get her mother to understand she didn't want to get married again.

"Everyone knows your husband only went to you a couple of times." Jocelyn exhaled a breath, feeling sorry for her little girl. "I know you don't want to be married, but your father has insisted that you at least attempt to find another." She sighed, adjusting the shift under the corset. Clary dropped her eyes, wanting to marry someone that she approved of, but silently knew it would never happen. "I'll speak to your father tonight about waiting a bit longer. Try with Mark, but after today, I'll get you more time. It can only be a couple years at most. Your father is an impatient man." She assisted her daughter into her gown.

"Thank you, mother." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"No problem." Jocelyn assured her, tying the string in the back of her gown.

Clay huffed, as her mom escorted her into the common room. The large Blackthorn family filled the room. They had been family friends for years, and she had to admit Mark wasn't that bad looking. She hadn't been able to see them for the last few years because managing Sebastian's assets were a pain in the butt because he never did want he was supposed to with his lands and staff. Mark was young, but she just wasn't interested in him that way. She didn't know if she would be interested in anyone that way.

"Clary." Mark nodded respectfully, standing next to her.

"Mark." She curtsied, smiling forcefully at him.

"Let's walk a little before we eat." He held out his arm for her. She internally groaned, realizing that he probably was interested. They stepped into the foyer, and she held onto his bicep. "I'm not interested in marriage." He stated immediately, making her release a calming breath. "Not that you aren't amazing. My father is sending me across the continent, and I don't want to drag a sweet girl with me." He spoke softly, placing his hand over hers.

"Oh, great." Her smile returned to her face.

"I thought you would say that." He grinned faintly. "Do you miss Sebastian still?" He asked, resting his hand over mine. She snorted, rolling her eyes. "I take that as a no."

"We hated each other. He treated me like an object. I was supposed to provide an heir, but he would only screwed whores. When he did stumble into my bed, he was violent and cold. I hated him." She scowled, as they approached the house today.

"That does sound pretty bad." He grimaced. They entered the house once again, sitting in the couches around the common room.

They all had a cordial dinner with one another, and the idea of marriage was thankfully dropped.

OoOoO

Later in the day, Clarissa's father summoned her into the living room. She wasn't quite sure why because he never calls for her to see him. If it was about a suitor, she was going to throw a tantrum. When she walked into the room, her father was speaking to a very beautiful man. He was tall and golden. She stayed quiet, looking him over. He didn't look familiar, but he was incredibly handsome. She bit her lip, trying not to star too obviously at the young man.

"Clarissa, this is Jace Herondale. I commissioned him to do a piece of you for our family." Valentine smiled between the two young adults, as his daughter bowed. Clary hadn't really met an artist before, let alone one this young. Man, he was even more attractive close up. He had thick shoulders with piercing gold eyes. He looked like one of those Roman statues that my father tracked down, which are incredibly unique and beautiful.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Morgenstern." He took her hand, kissing it lightly. The blood rushed to her face, and she scolded herself seconds later for reacting that way because it was silly. She's never gotten flustered like that before from someone barely touching her.

"Nice to meet you as well." She spoke up after several seconds, as he drew away from her.

"Where do you want this painting done?" The artist looked over at Valentine, wondering where to put this figure of his next painting.

"I don't really care. Just make sure my Clarissa is truly beautiful." He held my chin lightly, smiling kindly at me. She moved her chin away from him, rubbing it on her shoulder.

"I don't think I'll have a problem with that." Jace licked his upper lip, letting his eyes linger over the young woman's body.

"Hey." Her father snapped her fingers in front of his face. "That is my little girl." He threatened.

"I'm a professional." Jace countered immediately, shifting his art supplies in his hands.

"You better be." He glared at him, as he left the room.

"Where do you want your painting done?" Jace smiled kindly at Clary.

"Why don't I show you around and you can pick because I have no idea." Clary snickered quietly, holding part of her gown up to walk better.

"Sounds like a plan." He puffed some hair away from face, following her through the house.

"Do you have anywhere you prefer?" She questioned, glancing over at him. It was a rather large house. She wasn't quite sure where to take him.

"Somewhere outdoors maybe a garden." He suggested.

"Oh, I think I have a place." She clapped, gesturing for him to follow her.

She led him outside to their vast garden. Her father placed those beautiful roman statues in the garden, along with a beautiful marble fountain. It gushed sparkling blue water down the carefully crafted sculptures.

"This is beautiful." He grinned, beginning to set his supplies down on a bench.

"This is one of my favorite places." She sighed happily, sitting on the edge of the fountain.

"Good, because I'm doing it here." He pulled out a canvas, and set it on a stand. She watched curiously, as Jace set up his equipment. There wasn't a lot of it, but she still found it fascinating. She was slightly jealous of him. He was free to do whatever he wanted, he got to paint his hearts desires, while she was stuck here, waiting for some random man to marry her. She wanted something more from this life, but no one could give that to her. "Here." He walked up to her, kneeling in front of her. She took a sharp intake of breath, feeling nervous about the sudden closeness. He adjusted her skirts to flow a certain way, making her heart thump a little faster in her chest. She knew her face was bright red because no one touches her like this. It's improper, but she didn't say anything. He pushed himself up slightly, taking her hands gently in his own. His hands swallowed her, as she kept his eyes on him. His fingers were callused, but warm. Heat radiated over her body. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore it. "Is everything ok?" Jace's eyes quickly locked with hers, and she took a deep breath.

"Yes, of course." She forced a polite smile, even though she felt overwhelmed with intense warmth.

"Good." He reached over, tilting her chin to the side. "Perfect." He smiled, dropping his hand reluctantly from her face.

A/N: So the way Clary's marriage work was common practice. Girls got married at 13 to ensure that they were in fact virgins. Husbands were also known to go to brothels and have relationships with other males. I didn't bring up that last part, but it did happen. Widows were also sent back to their parents' home, and they tried to marry them off as fast as they could.

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If I get 5 or more reviews within the next 12 hours I'll get this story updated before I go to bed.

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