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“You know the stories of my grandfather, I am sure?” Jesse asked. Lucie raised an eyebrow. “The one who turned into a great worm because of demon pox, and was slain by my father and uncles?” “I feared your parents would not have considered it the kind of tale suitable for a young lady’s ears,” said Jesse. “I see that was an idle concern.” “They tell it every Christmas,” said Lucie smugly.” — Cassandra Clare
You know the stories of my grandfather, I am sure?” Jesse asked.
Lucie raised an eyebrow. “The one who turned into a great worm because of demon pox, and was slain by my father and uncles?”
“I feared your parents would not have considered it the kind of tale suitable for a young lady’s ears,” said Jesse. “I see that was an idle concern.”
“They tell it every Christmas,” said Lucie smugly.