A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading 'A Kingdom Divided'! This story is set in late Medieval times (late 14th/early 15th century), in the fictional country of Atlantis. I've spent a LOT of time researching the time period (seriously, I'd say well over 100 hours), including some minute and seemingly insignificant details, in order to make the story as accurate and detailed as possible. That being said, there may be some minor differences, because this is an AU story. Atlantis is based on the kingdoms of Medieval Europe, but Medieval customs varied by country and region. The same will be true for Atlantis. History buffs should note similarities between Atlantis and England, France, Austria, Spain, and a few other countries-but with a few small tweaks to give the kingdom its own, unique, culture.

For those of you who find history fascinating, but aren't familiar with many of the terms and customs-don't worry. I've done my best to explain them throughout the story so far. For example, this chapter contains a section where Percy trains with a quintain (a Medieval device used to help knights practice their 'tilting,' or jousting, skills). I explain what the device looked like, how it worked, and what its purpose was in the story below. So, you don't need to know much about history to enjoy and understand this story.

The only detail that might not be clear relates to the layout of the castle. I have more information about this in the ending author's note (I wouldn't want to scare readers away with an essay for the opening note!), but what you need to know is that the term 'bailey' refers to the space within a castle's walls. If I say that a person in the story is walking across the bailey, I mean that the person is outside, crossing a walled enclosure (e.g. a courtyard).

That's all for now, folks! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Prince Perseus smiled as he led his horse out of the castle stables. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and the grass covering the inner bailey was green once more; spring had finally returned to Atlantis. That realization put the prince in high spirits. He'd spent four long winter months cooped up in Merchester Castle, and Percy was eager to roam free once more. He knew that his horse felt the same, so he figured than an outing would benefit both of them. Also, the prince needed to refresh his jousting skills—the kingdom's annual spring tournament was happening the next day, but Percy had not practiced at all throughout the winter. That put him at a significant disadvantage compared to some of the other knights, who lived in warmer areas of the country and were able to practice year-round.

Percy reached out to pat his horse's dark mane. He had his work cut out for him.

"Are you ready, Blackjack?"

The horse answered by tossing his head and pawing the grass beneath his feet. Percy laughed at the animal's eagerness, and then mounted the gelding with ease. He grabbed the reigns, but held them loosely so that Blackjack could move comfortably.

The horse was so well trained that he turned to the gatehouse without any direction, and began to walk towards it. The inner gate was kept open during the day, so Percy and Blackjack rode through without any interference. They entered the middle bailey, but Percy signalled for Blackjack to turn before they reached the castle's second set of gates. Blackjack complied, and Percy led him across the clearing until they reached the quintain—a pole, resting vertically on another pole, with a shield attached to one end and a heavy bag of sand attached to the other end.

Percy's squire was standing beside the apparatus, waiting patiently for the prince to arrive. He held a lance in one hand, and a large bag rested by his feet.

Percy pulled Blackjack to a stop beside the squire.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Ethan. I was delayed at the stables."

Ethan shrugged. "That's alright, your highness. I haven't been waiting long."

"Good." Percy glanced at the bag by the boy's feet. "Is that my armour?"

"Yes, sire."

Ethan bent down and pulled open the lid of the bag, revealing the shiny plate armour lying underneath. He began removing the armour from the bag while Percy dismounted Blackjack, then he grabbed the chainmail and started to dress the prince in silence. He finished several minutes later by fastening Percy's helmet.

The prince thanked Ethan for his help before turning back towards Blackjack. Getting back on the horse was relatively difficult, because Percy's armour weighed him down and limited his mobility, but he managed to remount without any assistance. After settling in, he grabbed the lance from Ethan's outstretched arm and rode until he was forty feet away from the quintain.

Percy stared at the apparatus as he reviewed the next steps in his mind. His goal was to hit the shield attached to the pole, and then avoid getting hit by the bag of sand when his strike forced the pole to pivot. It sounded simple, but Percy knew better than to underestimate the challenge. Most knights spent years trying to master the quintain, first as pages, then as squires, and finally continuing their training as knights. Percy had taken to it naturally as a young boy—like he did with most equestrian endeavors—but even he needed to practice often to maintain his skills.

Blackjack began to paw the ground beneath him, which signalled to Percy that he was impatient to begin. The prince indulged his horse by urging the mount forward. Then, he titled the lance in his right hand until it was even with the shield. He maintained a tight grip and kept his shoulder firm as the target approached. He hit the center of the shield while Blackjack was at a gallop, then he leaned forward into his mount to avoid the swinging bag of sand. The bag raced just over his head, with enough force to knock a knight from his mount.

Percy grinned triumphantly as he sat up straight, then he thrusted his lance high into the air victoriously. Blackjack slowed down to a canter beneath him, then the horse turned around and brought Percy back to his original position forty feet in front of the quintain. Ethan reset the device so that the shield was facing Percy directly, and the prince repeated his efforts, with the same results. He spent the next hour tilting at the quintain before he decided to quit for the day.

He dismounted Blackjack and removed his helmet, then wiped the sweat from his brow.

"I think that'll be all for today, Ethan. Can you help me with my armour?"

The dark-haired boy before him nodded. "Of course, sire."

They spent the next few minutes removing Percy's armour, and once Ethan returned the final piece to its bag, the prince sighed in relief. Moving was much easier without the metal plates weighing him down.

"Can you take the armour back to my chamber and put it away?" Percy questioned.

Maintaining the prince's armour was part his squire's job, but Ethan had only been training with Percy for a week, so he was still unfamiliar with most of his duties.

Still, the boy was a hard worker. He nodded in response to Percy's request, and reached for the bag without hesitation. "Certainly."

Ethan grunted as he hefted the bag over one shoulder. It must have weighed almost as much as the squire himself, but the boy carried it away without complaint.

Percy turned back to Blackjack as the boy left. He moved to mount the horse, but stopped when the movement hurt his aching muscles. Both he and Blackjack were sore from practice, so Percy decided to walk his horse back to the stables. He grabbed the reins lightly with his left hand, then gently guided Blackjack across the middle bailey and towards the inner gate. They passed through the gate's stone tunnel slowly, and then cut across the inner bailey before reaching the stables.

A stable hand met them at the door and accepted the reins from Percy.

"I worked him hard today," the prince mentioned before leaving, "so give him some extra water and feed. He's earned it."

Percy made his way back to the gatehouse after that. He entered the tower at the gatehouse's right side and began to climb the spiral stone staircase leading up to his apartment. The stairs were tilted slightly for defensive purposes, so Percy had to place a hand on the wall for balance as he climbed. He paused after reaching the first floor and briefly considered climbing further to visit his mother's apartment on the second floor, but a quick glance out the tower's window caused the prince to change his mind. He needed to meet with his father before the Privy Council meeting at noon, but the sun was almost at its peak. That meant he didn't have much time.

Having made his decision, Percy pushed open the heavy wooden door at the edge of the first floor landing and entered the hallway behind it. He passed a number of doorways before finally stopping in front of the one leading to his bedchamber. He entered that room quickly, and immediately walked over to his bedside table. The table was made of dark wood and held intricate carvings, but those details were of little interest to the prince at the moment—he was more interested in what the table held. Resting atop the dark surface was a porcelain pitcher and basin, and a linen towel laid beside them.

Percy grabbed the pitcher and poured its contents into the basin, before he returned it to the table. The prince then used both of his hands to splash water onto his face and neck. The liquid cooled his clammy skin and washed the sweat from his face, which left the prince feeling sufficiently refreshed. He finished by washing his hands and forearms, then dumping the last of the pitcher's contents over his head while he hovered over the bowl.

Percy ran both hands through his hair to get rid of the excess liquid, then grabbed the linen towel from the table and used it to dry off. Once that was done, he threw the towel on his bed—the servants would clean it later—and left his room. He travelled back down the hallway, descended the stairs, and exited the gatehouse. He'd barely stepped foot onto the bailey when he spotted a familiar figure exit the gatehouse tunnel.

Percy watched as the blond man strolled casually across the courtyard, wearing a thoughtful frown as he surveyed his surroundings. The prince called out a greeting before realizing that he did not have time to talk if he was going to talk speak with his father before the council meeting. Nevertheless, that realization came too late, because the man turned, and his warm brown eyes settled on Percy.

The man grinned, then began walking the prince's direction. Percy moved to meet him halfway. Once they were within a few feet of each other, the man stopped walking and dipped his head respectfully.

"Your highness."

Percy nodded to acknowledge the greeting. Then, even though it was unnecessary for a royal, he dipped his own head. "Duke."

The Duke of Attica noticed Percy's courtesy, and smiled with pleasure as he spoke, "I'm on my way to meet your father, but I'm glad I saw you first."

Percy's eyebrows rose before he could mask his surprise. The House of Attica was out of favour with the crown—it had been for several decades, ever since the former duke's failed coup against Percy's grandfather. Thus, it was rare for the current duke to be permitted at court. His warm greeting was even more unexpected.

"Me?" Percy clarified, "You want to speak with me?"

"Of course!" The duke beamed, "Please, allow me to extend my sincerest congratulations. The Duchess and I could not be happier. Lady Annabeth… well, she also feels quite strongly about the matter."

Percy stared at the duke, uncomprehending. Finally, after several seconds of silence, he admitted, "I'm not sure what you're referring to."

The duke's smile dimmed. "You don't know?"

Percy hesitated, and the duke took a quick step backwards.

"Forgive me, your highness." The duke bowed, "I assumed that the king would have told you—I see now that I was mistaken."

Percy scowled. That explained everything; his father rarely told Percy anything of importance.

The prince smiled stiffly to hide his irritation. "Your apology is unnecessary, Duke. The king has been busy lately, but he's asked to speak with me privately before today's council meeting. I'm sure he planned to tell me all about the matter then."

The Duke looked relieved. He nodded, "I'm certain he will. Anyways, I'll be glad to see you at the council meeting."

"You'll be at the meeting?" Percy spluttered in bewilderment. Only the king's closest advisors were admitted into the Privy Council. Percy was the Crown Prince of Atlantis, and yet he had only been admitted the previous year, when he turned 18. How had the Duke of Attica—a rival to the king—risen from his outsider status so quickly, that he was now a trusted advisor?

To his credit, the Duke's eyes widened. "Has the king told you nothing?!"

Then, as if realizing the impertinence of his words, he muttered another apology.

Percy just waved the words away. He was irritated, but it wasn't the Duke's fault. "It's fine. As I mentioned, my father is busy. He simply hasn't had the time to tell me."

Neither man believed that excuse, but they did not contradict it. They simply stared at each other in tense silence until Percy regained his composure. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You said you're looking for my father. Is he expecting you?"

"Yes," the duke answered, "we arranged this meeting yesterday."

Percy frowned. "That's odd. He doesn't usually forget appointments, but he asked me to meet him now as well. He must have forgotten that he'd already agreed to meet you."

"It's possible," the duke allowed, "but I don't think he did. Given the nature of what we planned to discuss… well, my guess is that he wanted to include you in the meeting."

Percy perked up slightly at that. His father rarely included him in official state business. Being admitted into one of his confidential meetings would be a nice change.

He grinned at the duke. "Then let's walk there together, shall we?"

The blond man nodded in response, and they set off towards the south-west tower together. Percy entered the tower first, but the duke followed him closely. They climbed the spiral staircase to the second floor, then walked down the hallway until they reached the council chamber. Two guards stood outside the door leading into the room, but they let both men pass without incident.

Percy glanced around the room as he stepped through the doorway. It was sparsely furnished, with a long, rectangular table surrounded by chairs. One chair was larger and more intricately carved than the rest. It sat at the far end of the table, and it was occupied. The occupant was none other than the king—a dark-haired man in his late forties, whose green eyes were focused intently on Percy and the duke.

After several moments of silence, the king stood to greet them.

"Welcome," he smiled and stretched his arms wide, "I'm glad you're both here. Now please, take a seat. We have important matters to discuss."

Percy realized that the duke had guessed right; King Poseidon clearly intended to meet with both of them together. He took the chair to his father's immediate right, which was his right as the crown prince. The Duke of Attica walked around the table and sat on the king's left side. Both he and Percy turned to look expectantly at the king, but Poseidon was looking at Percy.

The king cleared his throat before announcing, "So, my son. We are here to discuss your marriage."

"My marriage?!" Percy was so shocked that he almost choked on his own tongue, but neither of the other two men seemed concerned. They were smiling broadly at him.

"Yes," Poseidon confirmed, "you are now engaged to the Duke of Attica's daughter, Lady Annabeth."

Short A/N: So that's the first chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it. :) No pressure, but I would really love some reviews to let me know how I did. Also, please tell me if anything was unclear or if I need to explain the historical aspects better-my plan is to entertain you, not confuse you!

Long A/N for the few people who actually care about my ramblings: As promised, I'll provide some more information about the castle layout here.

Merchester Castle is the main royal residence in this story, and it is based on the real Harlech Castle. I've made a few modifications, but feel free to google the floor plan if you want a basic idea of the castle lay out. Remember, a bailey (AKA ward) is the space between the walls of a castle (similar to a courtyard). Merchester Castle has a concentric design, which means that it has multiple walls and baileys. Just like Harlech Castle, Merchester Castle has three walls. The first, outermost, wall is also the shortest. It is a preliminary means of defense. Just inside the outer wall is the outer bailey. This is a large open space where residents of the town of Merchester (located adjacent to the castle) could congregate for protection if an enemy army ever attacked. It is also where the jousting tournament, which I've planned for Chapter 3, will take place. The bailey ends at the middle wall-a taller and better protected, but smaller, wall. It surrounds the middle bailey. Similarly, middle bailey ends at the inner wall. This wall, and its gatehouse, are the tallest and best fortified part of the castle. The height is important, because it means that the defenders still had an advantage if their enemy managed to take the outer/middle wall(s). The inner wall surrounds the inner bailey, which is much smaller than the other baileys, but also (as I already mentioned) much better protected. The most important buildings in the castle were located within the inner bailey. These included the Great Hall, Great Chambers (the king and his family's apartments), the chapel, etc.

Also, as a small side note, I'm Canadian! This is relevant for one reason only: terminology. I didn't realize, but apparently North Americans and Europeans (I'm not sure about other continents, sorry!) use different terms when discussing floor plans. As a Canadian, I would normally use the terms ground floor and first floor interchangeably. That's because, in North America, they mean the same thing. We call the ground floor Floor 1, the floor above it Floor 2, etc. Apparently, this is different from in Europe, where the ground floor is ALWAYS the ground floor, and the floor above it is actually Floor 1 (the North American Floor 2). This doesn't seem like an important detail, but it was pretty confusing for me when I tried researching Harlech's layout. For some reason, I kept getting different images for the first and ground floors. That made no sense to me until I realized that the "first floor" on the blueprints was actually what I would call a second floor. Even though I'm Canadian, I'll use the European term for this story, because Atlantis is based upon Medieval kingdoms. My North American readers will just have to adjust (sorry!).

Anyways, that's it for now. Sorry for the ridiculously long Author's Note. I'll try to keep it shorter next time, but there were a few important details to clarify for the first chapter. I'll leave you now with this: thanks for reading! I hope you liked it and I'll begin working on the next chapter later today. I'll try not to keep you waiting too long for it.

Oops! One last thing. I didn't post a disclaimer because no one could POSSIBLY confuse me for Rick Riordan. For those of you who really like disclaimers though, I'll say it once now: I am not Rick Riordan. I own nothing (seriously, I recently finished university and have tons of debt, so I'm pretty poor). There, I think that's good enough to cover the whole story. You'll only have to read the disclaimer once. Bye!