Chapter Four

Percy

Munchkins are doing a tap dance in the prince's brain. His head always hurts after these parties, but the added stress of dealing with Amphitrite has him going nuts. He had stopped calling her "mother" years ago. Usually, he settled for "my Queen" in public, despite the whispers of how strained and formal they sounded. The Queen was a loving mother to Triton: it was only with Percy that she seemed detached. The ball had been miserable; Silena, of course, behaved with grace when they danced again later in the night, but he could sense her guard was up, it wasn't a new feeling. Most women knew immediately when the Queen disapproved. However, he didn't think that Silena was after his affections in the first place. It didn't matter; no one wanted to face the Queen's scrutiny.

It didn't stop most ladies of the court from trying. He wasn't vain; he knew the majority of them were after one thing and one thing alone: the throne. Thalia of course, was destined for the greatest power in the kingdom, so court ladies only route to a tiara was the princes of the lesser kingdoms. Percy was much more welcoming compared to his cousin and crown prince of the Onxyian kingdom. Lost in thought, Percy missed the sound of his bedroom door opening and his maid slipping into the room.

"Your Highness, are you alright?"He notices something… different in her tone: almost as if she was suppressing giggles in the beginning of her question. He reaches up and flicks his light on before removing the pillow from his face and opening an eye. Sure it's kind of weird to be laying in the pitch dark, with a pillow over your face, and staying dead still, but shouldn't she just except his weirdness at this point, she had to have worked as a maid for sometime before she was assigned to him. He can't imagine he's the strangest person she's ever worked for.

"I'm fine, just a head ache." He explains before flopping back on to his wide variety of pillows. His bed sheets are green and blue, surprise, surprise, and no doubt exorbitantly expensive. It must be a pain in the butt for Annabeth to have to make it every day. Shoving aside those thoughts, he reminds himself he's not in any state to be sympathetic. He hears a sigh from across the room as she flicks the light back on from the opposite side of the room. Forcing one eye open, despite the piercing pain that follows the bright light, he watches her confidently stride towards him before crossing her arms across her chest.

"Sit up, all those pillows are just going to hurt your neck and make your headache worse." She orders, and without thinking, he obliges without comment. Despite the fact that, you know, he's her boss. She carefully moves a few pillows off the bed, and lays them on a loveseat nearby. Kneeling on his bed, she leans forward, and takes his hand in hers. "Try this, press your thumb and your forefinger together, and pinch the tenderest spot." He does as she says, after she points to the spot that he needs to press, and feels his headache start to fade.

"Any better?" She asks, studying him with those hypnotic grey eyes. It distinctly reminds him of the storm clouds during hurricane season, always overlapping and churning ominously. He nods, and finally speaks.

"A little, where did you learn that?" She ignores his question again and places both of her hands on the top of his head. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment, figuring she has a decent reason, especially since she's never touched him before. After waiting a few moments, she moves one hand to his forehead and the other to the opposite spot on the back of his head. A few more moments pass before she claps both of her hands over his eyes. As a reflex, he closes them, until he feels her hands lift and finds himself gazing at her expectant face. He notices, with a bit of a shock, that his headache has all but disappeared.

"Thanks, that was really helpful, how'd you learn to do that?" To his surprise, at his gratitude, his, polite yet distant, maid blushes, the color burning across her cheekbones. He watches as she bites her lip, and his eyes follow the movement a little hungrily. He shakes that thought out of his head frantically, not okay, definitely not okay, Percy. Reprimanding himself, he focuses back on her as she begins to explain.

"An old servant of my father's taught me some stuff, I think she was a spiritual healer, I don't know though, it was a long time ago." She briskly hops off his bed, before smoothing her modest dress. He tilts his head, picking over her words as she starts to make her way to the door. "If there's nothing else you desire your highness…" She trails off, and he notes the use of the word "desire", like he's spoiled and she's sick of catering to his every pointless whim, and he is spoiled of course, but very few people had the courage to point it out, even if it was just implied. He realizes he should be angered by the disrespect, but he's too captivated by her spirit. Studying her again, he realizes a strange detail.

"If your father was rich enough to have servants: what are you doing working as a maid?" She seems a little off put that he picked up on such a minute detail. She purses her lips before answering, clearly trying to decide whether to lie to a crown prince. Wisely, she decides against it.

"He disowned me." Her voice is blunt and her face reveals no emotion; she starts to leave his room again, slowly sliding out into the hallway, before he asks another question, getting over the fully intended shock frustratingly quickly.

"Why?" It isn't the first time he's heard of the wealthy disowning their children, but usually, it's for such scandalous reasons that he can't line up the knowledge with what he's observed about Annabeth. She so sweet, and kind, and modest and respectful. What could she have possible done to earn such a harsh punishment.

"I told him to." She grins as she slides out of his room, presumably to retire to bed in her own, though considerably smaller quarters. He stares, gaping at the door, for a few moments before he realizes she neither curtsied nor asked for his permission to leave: and he's thrilled. Oh yeah, he most definitely likes this girl.