“And what colour do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?''Mauve,' said Will.”

“They’re not hideous,” said Tessa. Will blinked at her. “What?” “Gideon and Gabriel,” said Tessa. “They’re really quite good-looking, not hideous at all.” “I spoke,” said Will, in sepulchral tones, “of the pitch-black inner depths of their souls.” Tessa snorted. “And what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?” “Mauve,” said Will.”

“My name is Herondale," the boy said cheerfully. "William Herondale, but everyone calls me Will. Is this really your room? Not very nice, is it?" He wandered toward the window, pausing to examine the stacks of books on her bedside table, and then the bed itself. He waved a hand at the ropes. "Do you often sleep tied to the bed?”

“They all have always loved you, Will Herondale, for you cannot hide what is good about yourself, however hard you try.”

“Concerned about my safety, are you? -William Herondale.”

“Jordan doesn't really care about the blood," Simon said now. "His whole thing is about me being comfortable with what I am. Get in touch with your inner vampire, blah, blah."Clary slid in next to him onto the bed and hugged a pillow. "Is your inner vampire different from your...outer vampire?""Definitely. He wants me to wear midriff-baring shirts and a fedora. I'm fighting it."Clary smiled faintly. "So your inner vampire is Magnus?”

“The girl behind the scrawled letters. I loved you from the moment I read them. I love you still.” - Will Herondale”