Chapter Two

Queen Amphitrite pursed her lips, as the servants bustled about. While the queen was known as rather strict and traditional, when you caught her on a good day, she was pleasant. Suffice to say, today was not a good day and it was all because of a certain Quiche. In Seachester, the cuisine was mainly based on fish, clams and what not. The queen was certainly not under cultured but she could never make the taste of Quiche agree with her. One bite and she usually shoved the tray away, but while dining with Hera, the Queen of Electria, she had to force herself to stomach it. Seachester was considerably smaller than Electria, and slightly less wealthy, despite its bustling trade ports: the Queen and her husband, King Poseidon always had to make an effort to appease the king and his wife. Part of life as a noble was fawning over your superiors, but it had never sat well with Amphitrite. What she wouldn't give to tell Hera that yes, the orange monstrosity that she calls a dress does in fact make her butt look bigger than her kingdom.

Unfortunately, that was not the way of the world, and now Amphitrite was trapped with her nausea, trying in vain to make her seamstress understand that she wanted a flattering gown for the next ball, not one that makes her look like she's charging by the hour and strutting down the street in too high heels. No matter how she attempted to get it across to the woman, she just nodded and returned to her sewing. Finally giving up, she dismissed the incompetent seamstress and sighed in defeat, wishing that her personal seamstress was here. Now that was a woman who knew how to work a needle.

As "magnificent' of a tradition this trip was, it was still a humongous pain in the Queens' plans. The last year all three royal families had gathered at Seachester; that was even worse, she will never ever be able to remove those wrinkles, but traveling all the way to the Capitol of Electria and staying for a month might just rival the stress levels. The original decree called it an effort towards unity between the three subkingdoms, but, to the Queen, it meant that the Seachester royal palace was left unguarded for a month. Albeit, there were soldiers and servants keeping things running at the palace, but it still didn't feel right leaving her home so open to attack.

She tilted her head when a maid slipped into the room. That was the strange thing about the help; they never busted, strutted, or stormed. She had to suppose that they had all the same emotions and reactions of nobles, they just never showed them in her presence: which was probably pretty smart now that she thinks of it. Anyone ranting and raving wouldn't be seen within the walls of the palace, any palace, ever again. The help must be seen, but never heard or noticed. It was a rule; one of those rules that has been around since the beginning of time and will be around till the end of the world, at least as far as the Queen was concerned.

Smoothing the wrinkles in her gown, the Queen strided forward, hardly acknowledging the startled maid, she didn't hate the girl, of course, she wouldn't have any reason to, but there were appearances that needed to be kept up. A queen could never be seen wallowing around with the lower classes. That's not to say, she and her husband weren't generous, of course, and if anything they were too charitable: after eight years of service, the maids earned a small pension, and while they were working, their families got weakly payments. They weren't enough to support a family on their own, but considering the poverty rates in the countryside, along with the orphan rates, they surely helped a lot. Of course, King Poseidon was always itching to increase the family payments, and it was only the Queen's insistences, that they needed the emergency funds, that kept him under control. The king could never find time, or get away from his responsibilities for long enough to personally help, so he made up for it by financially contributing as much as possible. The man was burdened with a conscience that was much too big for his status; but the Queen loved him despite his excessive generosity, in her own way. Being a queen is a mass of contradictory statements: be a lady, but be strong; don't question you king's opinion, but speak up if something is wrong; support your king, but be honest with him; more than anything else, the king must have an heir and fidelity among royal couples is paramount.

As much as Amphitrite loved her husband, Percy was a thorn in her side. The fact of the matter was, he wasn't her son, the king had an affair with another woman who showed up and dropped the baby outside their bedroom door, with a note explaining she was dying of cancer. Percy knew, of course, the king had told him once he was old enough to understand, but it was kept from the general population, having convinced them that they kept his birth and her pregnancy under the wraps because they feared that the palace was infiltrated. The queen performed her part to perfection, though many commented on how detached the Queen seemed when she looked at her son, and the visible tension between the two rulers.

Percy was not the king's first child, Triton was the eldest son, from Amphitrite, but he lacked the heart and mind required to rule, and he left to explore the lands, and abdicated the throne. Knowing her duty, the Queen put her kingdom a head of herself, but throughout Percy's childhood, she only thinly veiled her disdain for the boy. The rumors erupted shortly afterward his arrival, and even though they were spot on, each whispered sneer was a punch to the stomach. Queen Amphitrite straightened her posture a bit more, and pushed her shoulders back, narrowing her eyes at the bustling servant.

Any sign of weakness could be exploited in these uncertain times. Ever since her husband and his two brothers overthrew their cruel father, there's been tension among them. Everyone knew that King Zeus got the best end of the deal and that Poseidon was bitter about the arrangement. Of course, he was never openly hostile, he was occasionally impulsive, but the king certainly was not stupid. Still, the underlying tension was present. Zeus was convinced that Poseidon was feuding against him and he kept an eagle-like eye on Percy. The magnifying glass also seemed to focus on Amphitrite, and she couldn't help but remember the way ants would catch on fire when the sunlight streamed through the clear surface. Even though the pressure and constant scrutiny were lead weights attached to her ankles, the woman constantly kept moving. She was a queen, and she would not be broken.

A/N: Just want to thank my beta, Percabethlvrknowsall, who helped me with this chapter and the previous.