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Jessamine stared at the parasol in her hands. It was pink, and even when folded up, she could see the flowers that decorated it.
It was beautiful enough to rival some of her dresses.
She looked at Henry, who was sitting across from her in the parlour and kept fidgeting with the end of his sleeves.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
Jessamine took a second to gather herself. “It’s beautiful. Did you really make it?”
Henry cleared his throat. “Yes, I did.”
She raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t been at the Institute long, but she already had a good idea of what Henry was like as a person. He was absent-minded and spent a lot of time underground in what he called his laboratory. He always talked about gadgets and gizmos that he was making, but a gorgeous parasol was unlike any of the other outrageous ideas he’d mentioned.
“When did you become a fashion designer?” she asked.
Henry blushed. “Oh, well, Charlotte helped with that part. She had the fabric made and specified the design. I only used it.”
“But why?” Jessamine knew she sounded petulant, but she didn’t care. If she let Henry blabber on, he’d never get to the point. “Why would you bother to make me a parasol of all things?”
He looked as surprised as she’d been when he handed her the parasol. “Oh, it’s not just a parasol. Dear me, I should have explained.”
He reached out a hand, and it took a second before Jessamine realised that he wanted the parasol back. She handed it over to him, suddenly uneasy as she sensed a demonstration of some kind.
“It’s a weapon.”
Jessamine physically recoiled, feeling suddenly queasy. “I told you and Charlotte that I won’t complete any training. You said you understood!”
Henry’s face was bright red, and his eyes were wide in panic. “Jessamine, no. No. Sorry. I’m not doing a good job of explaining. We don’t expect you to do any training. Of course, Charlotte would like you to, but she won’t—”
He cut himself off, clearing his throat awkwardly.
The reassurance only made a minimal impact on her uneasiness. She’d expected right from the start that Charlotte would keep pushing training on her every so often, but she hadn’t thought Henry paid enough attention to do so.
“Then why are you giving me this?” she asked.
“For protection.”
He sounded so sincere that Jessamine found herself believing him.
That didn’t make her hate the parasol any less. After what had happened to her parents, she could admit that protection wasn’t an inherently bad thing. However, she would have preferred that protection to come in the form of a safe mundane husband who would keep her away from all Shadowhunter affairs, not a parasol she was expected to wield herself.
The husband had yet to appear though, and living in the institute, she did feel more in danger than she ever had before. She was actually a little touched that Henry cared enough about her safety to devise a weapon that looked like a simple parasol. It was the first invention he’d completed since she arrived at the Institute, despite him mentioning several at meal times.
“How does it work then?”
She tried to sound disinterested, but truthfully, she was a little curious as to how such an inconspicuous parasol could be used as a weapon.
“The fabric has electrum woven into it.” Henry patted the fabric in question. “And the edges are razor-sharp, able to slice through just about anything.” He circled his finger around the edges of the parasol.
Jessamine shivered. She could have easily cut herself on one of those while holding it, and she wouldn’t have known what had happened. It was just like Henry not to caution her about the potential danger before handing it over to her.
“If you stab anything with it, they’ll be electrocuted,” Henry concluded, puffing out his chest in pride.
Jessamine swallowed. It was better than a sword at least. She’d been convinced to hold one of those just once, in her first week at the Institute, and the weight of it alone had put her off. The parasol had been light in her hands, and using it to block the sun while on a walk was by far preferable to having a weapons belt strapped around her waist.
“Will you use it?” Henry held the parasol back out to her.
After a second of hesitation, Jessamine snatched it from him, being careful of the sharp edges.
“Well, it is beautiful, like I said. I’m sure it will go with quite a few of my outfits. Perhaps carrying it with me won’t be too much trouble.”
Henry’s smile was blinding. Jessamine didn’t think she’d seen him quite so happy. Maybe his inventions weren’t often accepted so easily. She wouldn’t be surprised, if the bangs and explosions she’d heard were anything to go by.
While she’d felt touched by Henry’s gesture and found the parasol pretty, there was an uneasy feeling in her stomach as she stared down at the parasol. Her whole life, her parents had promised her that she would never have to fight like they had as children. She’d believed them. But she’d also believed that they’d live long lives and see her get married. Few things had gone how she expected recently.
She swallowed down the unease, not wanting Henry to see how affected something as stupid as a weaponised parasol made her feel.