My knowledge of the Victorian era is limited to romance novels, so please forgive any historical and fashion inaccuracies.
First, they would flatter him.
"It's incredible how you doubled the size of the Grace estate in such a short time!" Lady Aphrodite, Marchioness of Artemisium, paced in front of his mahogany pedestal desk. Her hair was golden-blond and her evening gown was emerald silk. "Truly, 'tis the blood of a noble lineage that flows in your veins!"
Then, they would tell him a bit of history.
"I understand that you may have reservations about marrying below your station, but," She sat herself in the carved oak chair in front of his desk. "My mother, Lady Dione, inherited her title from her father. My grandfather, Lord Oceanus, was from the Gaian line. The royal family descended from this line as well. You see?"
Finally, they would move in for the kill.
"You're already twenty-one. Don't you think it's time to get married?" She retrieved an ornate, floral engraved locket from her purse and handed it to him. Inside was a photograph of a girl about his age, with choppy, uneven locks and a bright, reckless smile. "This is my daughter, Piper. You should invite her to a picnic out in the park. She would love that."
Thus was the daily life of His Royal Highness the Prince Jason, Heir Apparent to the Throne of Olympus, Head of the Divine House of Jupiter, Duke of New Rome, Earl of Sparta and Baron Mycenae, Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Fifth Cohort, Companion of the Order of the Wolf House.
"Pardon my intrusion, Your Royal Highness," It was his butler, Sir Hedge, in his dark dress clothing and white gloves. He was holding a small oval tray of sterling silver and there was a sympathetic expression on his face. "You have a letter from Queen Bellona of Spain, regarding her second daughter, Reyna, Princess of Amazon."
Jason groaned and briefly he thought of smashing his head against his cherry wood end tables.
"What should we do, Your Royal Highness?" Sir Hedge continued. "Should we send them a strongly-worded letter? Should we challenge them to a duel? Or should we hire an arsonist to burn their estates to the ground?"
Jason groaned louder.
Everything in the Divine House of Poseidon was blue like the ocean, from the dark-framed paintings of dolphins hanging on the walls to the walnut and parcel gilt chairs in the dining room, where the dinner party was being held.
"Good to see you again, Your Royal Highness."
Jason turned to see his childhood friend, Perseus Jackson, Head of the Divine House of Poseidon, Duke of Atlantis, Earl of Phthia, Knight of the Bolt, Knight of the Fleece. He was leaning on the wall by a window, wearing a royal blue silk vest and slate-gray trousers. His black cutaway coat was buttoned only in the middle.
"What brings you here, Your Royal Highness?" Percy asked, checking the time with his gold plated pocket watch, boredom obvious on his face. "I thought you didn't appreciate the women throwing all their unmarried sisters and daughters at you."
"I received an invitation," Jason smiled sarcastically.
Percy laughed, shaking his head, before he nodded towards the back of the room, where the crowd for the dinner party thinned considerably. Jason followed him there, surprised when the mirth in Percy's face was suddenly replaced by a worried anxiety. It was a strange expression to see on the face of the normally cheerful noble.
"There's some trouble at the Divine House of Hades," Percy ran a hand through his hair. "Nic – I mean, the Duke of Tartarus has been missing for some time now."
"I've never seen the Duke of Tartarus at a dinner party before." Jason put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, I don't think I've ever seen him."
The Divine House of Jupiter was not on agreeable terms with the Divine House of Hades, because of a dispute that had arisen during the time of the previous ascension. Hades, as the first born and Heir Apparent of then King Cronus Titania, was naturally poised to take over the throne.
However, Hades was a distant man, and cold, and those were two qualities ill-befitting of a king. Despite many a great protest, King Cronus went against tradition and passed the crown to his youngest, Zeus. Because of this history, members of the two Divine Houses generally tend to keep well away from each other.
"So now you're gathering information from the nobles," Jason concluded.
"I'm all out of options. I've looked for him everywhere – their estate at Elysium, their summer house by the River Styx, their farmhouse at the Fields of Asphodel, and Hades' Palace." Percy's face crumpled, his brows drawing together, his lips pressing into a thin line, in a rare moment of weakness. "Nothing. I can't find him."
"Have you informed the Olympus Police? It might be a kidnapping."
"I can't. His Royal Highness Hades doesn't want the news to be made public."
The doors leading to the dining room opened and Lady Jackson emerged with His Royal Highness Poseidon. Percy clapped Jason on the shoulder, before he walked off to join his parents. Jason went to the pair to greet them. Then, he left quietly, before any of the ladies could set their sights on him.
Percy was one of his closest companions, but Jason knew better than to involve himself in the affairs of the Divine House of Hades.
The missing duke was none of his business.
His four-wheeled convertible carriage was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs leading to Poseidon's Palace. It was a five-glass Landau, drawn by four horses and led by his favourite, Tempest. His luxury carriage was gilded, with panels painted by the famous Rachel Dare. Jason disliked the flashiness of the carriage, but it was a gift from Her Majesty the Queen.
The ride home started uneventfully, that was until they reached Persephone Plaza, which housed the commoners' markets. The carriage came to a sudden halt in the middle of the street and Jason saw his groom, Bobby, get off from his seat. The roads were dark and poorly-lit, but Jason made out the outline of a person, lying on the pavement.
"Oh gods," He gasped, flinging open the carriage door. With panicked steps, he quickly walked up to the body and knelt. "Did we run him over? Is he going to be alright?"
"No, Your Royal Highness, we didn't run him over," Bobby moved the body so it was on its back. "He was already lying here when we passed by."
The body belonged to a boy, who looked to be younger than Jason by two, three years. He had dark hair that curled at the tips. His face was pale and he had bags under his eyes. He was wearing a doublet over his plain brown shirt and knickers. His feet were bare. A peasant, but something about his sooty lashes, his high cheekbones, and the curve of his lips reminded Jason of Italian nobility.
"Let's get him on the carriage then," Jason gently lifted the boy into his arms, cradling him to his chest on the carriage cushions . "We need to call the Lesser House of Apollo."
It was the morning two days after he brought the stranger to his home. Jason was in his office, sifting through a pile of letters that had suddenly arrived last night. Most of them were from Her Majesty the Queen and the rest were from the nobles who wanted him to – what else? – meet their daughters.
"Pardon my intrusion, Your Royal Highness," Sir Hedge entered the room carrying his silver tray. He picked up the newspaper from the tray and unfolded it with one hand. "It seems your act of – ahem – grace have made the gossip column of yesterday's Daily Olympus."
"I see," Jason muttered absently, reaching under his desk for his brass letter-opener.
"Unfortunately, it's for all the wrong reasons." Sir Hedge lifted the newspaper. "'Eyewitness reports say that Prince J. was seen last night carrying a woman from his luxury carriage to his estate at Royal Square. The prince was at a Divine House dinner party, where he might have met the woman.'"
"Their eyewitness must be blind to mistake a peasant in knickers for a noblewoman." Jason pressed the blade of the letter-opener to the envelope. "Let them wag their tongues. 'Tis nothing but gossip."
"Indeed, Your Royal Highness," Sir Hedge folded the newspaper and placed it back on the tray. "But should we send them a strongly-worded letter? Should we challenge them to a duel? Or should we hire an arsonist to burn their estates to the ground?"
"Who are you?" Nico asked the man standing at the foot of his bed, as he clutched the blankets tighter to his chest. His voice was rough with disuse and anxiety. "Where am I?"
From the moment he opened his eyes, he knew he – Nico di Angelo, Head of the Divine House of Hades, Duke of Tartarus, Earl of Opus and Baron Elysium, Knight of the Shadows, Knight Grand Cross of the Athena Parthenon, Companion of the Order of the Undead, Companion of the Hellhounds' Service Order – was in quite the predicament.
He knew he was, because commoners didn't have high back, walnut and burl queen-sized beds, like the one he was sitting up on; commoners didn't have eclectic guest bedrooms with oriental accents, like the one he was in; and commoners most certainly didn't have private doctors waiting upon their guests, like the one who was watching him closely!
Nico knew even the wealthier members of the Lesser Houses couldn't afford this kind of indulgence, which only meant he was in –
"You are in the Divine House of Jupiter," The man standing at the foot of the bed supplied, his hands help up in a placating gesture. His voice was thick with worry. "We were riding home from the Divine House of Poseidon when my groom noticed you lying on the pavement by Persephone Plaza."
"You have sustained minor injuries from falling on your head on the road and your fainting may have been due to exhaustion, combined with the unfavourable temperatures at nighttime," The doctor spoke, as he removed his glasses and stored it in the front pocket of his morning coat. "You have neither been sleeping nor eating properly, have you?"
The doctor was peering at him closely, as if trying to ascertain whether or not they've been acquainted before, and Nico was becoming more than uncomfortable. He wanted nothing more than to leave this house and go back to the streets, before he could be found out by anyone.
Hesitantly, he shook his head.
"I thought as much. For the sake of your own health, I request that you stay here in the care of His Royal Highness until you recuperate." The doctor continued. Then, he cocked his head to the side. "For some reason, I can't shake the feeling that I've made the pleasure of your acquaintance before. What is your name?"
"Dr Solace, it's ill-mannered to ask for someone's name without giving yours first," The man standing at the foot of the bed walked up to Nico. There was a warm, relieved smile on his face, and his hand was extended for a shake. "I'm Jason Grace, and you are?"
Nico swallowed, his mouth going dry. Years and years of breeding had made it reflex for him to always make himself known, to always make sure everyone in the room knew they were in the presence of the head of the oldest house of Olympus.
But no longer.
He was no longer a duke, no longer a member of the nobility. He didn't deserve to lead a Divine House, not when he knew he we was a freak. He was merely a peasant now, living from day to day on coins from the streets.
"I… I… I don't know…" Nico whispered. "I can't… remember."
"Your Royal Highness," Dr Solace turned to Jason. "It seems our patient has amnesia."
Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think :D