Based on events around "The Mark of Athena." I do not own anything that has to do with the Percy Jackson series.
Reyna felt like she had failed her camp.
Not only had she given the order not to blast them out of the sky, she also had taken the pleasure of talking to one of them while her camp was about to be bombed.
If she had went with Octavian...
Well, the whole mess could have been prevented it, now couldn't it?
Instead, she was left with five dead Romans, two of them children, not even been pass the age to join the legion.
The third had been an elder son of Trivia, he was sixty three and retired, and a high ranking officer of New Rome in his youth.
The last two were from the Fourth and Second Cohort respectively, soldiers that Reyna had known.
Their deaths could have been prevented if she had gave the order to fire a few Greeks out of the sky. Only a few. And it would have prevented the countless injuries (the report was still coming in), and the five deaths, maybe more.
The pressure she had been feeling the past few days came crashing around her- like waves coming down on the wooden planks of a-
Stop!
She ordered herself. Just, stop.
Torturing herself would not help, neither would remembering.
She was a Praetor, a solider, of New Rome. She would survive.
But Jason...
The voice came back in her head, in the presence of a cool mocking tone.
No. She would not stand for this. She had people she had to take care of. Families she had to console.
This was when she hated her job; she just wanted the best for her people, but it had backfired miserably.
Reyna had to keep moving though, moving as she always did.
It, after all, kept the nightmares at bay.
No doubt Octavian would turn her legion against her; making them despise her for trying to make peace with the Greeks.
She could handle that.
Reyna, however, could not handle the destruction of her people.
So, with that, Reyna thought, her calm would hide a storm.
A storm that could be concealed in cool eyes and a polite smile, in listening to Octavian rant, and watching the spear be thrown in her mother's temple.
But a storm none the less.