Annabeth spent rest the day considering her sister's words—either accept our relationship or—it was an ultimatum. She still didn't trust Percy, but she wasn't willing to lose her sister over—anything, really.
It was for that reason the next morning, after she had finished taking her breakfast, she inquired as to her sister whereabouts, determined to apologize to her. By no means did Annabeth intend to halt her investigation into the assassination of William Dohlov, but Rachel certainly didn't need to know that—and neither did her mother for that matter.
Despite Annabeth's remorseful intentions, however, it appeared her sister had no desire to speak to her as, whenever she asked, she was given little to no information about where exactly Rachel was. With a sigh, Annabeth decided to speak to her later, choosing instead to practice her archery in order to keep her mind off of her sister.
Annabeth had barely shot two arrows, however, when the very person she was avoiding reappeared. The blonde could feel the cool wind whipping her cheeks, coloring them. She had just drawn her third arrow and was positioning it, her eye following the delicate line of wood when her sister's fiery red hair snapped into her peripheral.
Annabeth felt herself gasp, spring air rushing into her lungs. She let her fingers deftly rest on the bowstring, the movement practiced and precise, before letting go and watching the arrow shoot towards its target.
She didn't miss. She never missed.
Annabeth inclined her head, gesturing to the servant standing next to her target board to remove the arrows. She took the opportunity to peer in her sister's direction and quickly realized she wasn't alone. Percy was walking alongside Rachel, her hand curled around the crook of his arm. They were strolling at a leisurely pace, guards trailing closely behind.
The blonde pursed her lips, feeling her teeth coming down on her cheek in order to quash thoughts of sabotage. She took a deep breath, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. She attempted to focus only on the feeling of the wind rustling her hair and the rough texture of a new arrow slipping through her manicured hands. With a determined glimmer, Annabeth opened her eyes, pulling her bow taut and letting the arrow fly through the air towards the marked target.
Annabeth heard the arrow make impact with the hay, but she didn't look. She didn't need to. She never missed. It sounded the same as always.
A loud laugh erupted from the garden where her sister was sitting, drawing her attention. What were they saying? What could possibly be so funny?—It didn't matter.
The blonde rapidly pulled another arrow from the pack slung across her shoulder, pulling back and shooting it. It struck the bullseye. She pulled another and let it fly, then another, then another.
It wasn't until her arrows were finished that Annabeth, her chest heaving against the fabric of her bodice, took a break. She tried to focus on the wind, but she could still hear the echo of her sister tinkling laugh and Percy's deep one. Her fingers twitched to do something. She snuck another peek in their direction while her servant returned her arrows.
They were holding hands now, nestled into the shadow of an old oak. They were close—much too close for Annabeth's liking—and talking animatedly. Her sister was laughing. Why was she laughing so much? She—no, Annabeth tried to remind herself. She couldn't do or say anything without risking her sister's happiness and confidence.
"Your Highness," her guard caught her attention.
"Yes?" Annabeth snapped, averting her eyes and eyeing him sharply.
"Would you care for another set?" he asked, motioning to the servant holding a basket full of used arrows beside her.
"Yes," Annabeth nodded, trying to shake herself out of her frenzy. "Thank you," she added, suddenly feeling awful for speaking so sharply to the man. "Please just leave them there," she told the servant who had just unloaded the arrows onto the ground.
She bent down and picked up one of the used arrows, kissing the sharp tip with the tip of her finger. Slowly, deliberately, she placed the arrow in the bow, feeling the familiar tug of the bowstring as her fingers pulled on it.
Annabeth eye's zeroed in on the red splotch of a target, her three fingers curling around the feathered fletching. The world seemed to go still around her, the very molecules in the air halting their constant displacement to watch. She breathed in, the calm washing over her as the tension built. She released the arrow, her fingers just barely moving. She felt a smile creep onto her lips as the arrow landed directly in the middle of the target.
Annabeth reached for another arrow, intending to do the same when her sister's movements once again caught her eye. She shouldn't have looked. She shouldn't have looked—but she did. And when she saw Percy, leaning forward, his fingers rising to push back Rachel's hair and curl around her cheek, Annabeth's body seemed to move on its own volition. Before she knew what she was doing, she had already pointed her bow in his direction, her arrow tight against the bowstring.
Percy shifted. Her sister's back was flat against the old oak, his hand caging her in.
He took a step forward.
Annabeth gritted her teeth.
Rachel breathed in, her chest rising to meet Percy's.
His head turned, just slightly.
Annabeth's vision narrowed.
The guards behind her yelled. Percy surged forward. She shot, watching closely as the arrow followed its trajectory, shooting forward straight into the tree beside his head, just brushing the hairs on his head.
Percy and Rachel jumped apart. They both whipped around as the guards who had been standing by went wild, searching for the source of the attack. All at once, it seemed, everyone's eyes landed on Annabeth. She still held her bow, poised perfectly in her fingers.
"We can go now," Annabeth stated loudly, her eyes dipping from the scene before her. She turned to the men who had been waiting on her. They were stuck in a shocked state, their eyes wide and their mouth ajar. "I said now," Annabeth repeated, pleased when they jumped into action.
...
"I hope you're quite pleased with yourself," Rachel fumed as she stormed into the library where Annabeth had been waiting, sitting in her favorite chair. "My fiance thinks you tried to kill him."
"Maybe I did," Annabeth shrugged, a slight curve to her lips as she considered the prospect.
"Annabeth," Rachel flared, glaring in her sister's direction. "I know you have perfect aim. If you were trying to kill him, he'd be dead."
"Honestly, Rachel," Annabeth sighed. "I promised I would give you two space, but what he was about to do to you—in the middle of the gardens, no less."
"I would have stopped him," Rachel argued. "Do you have so little faith in me? Do you believe me so ignorant of my title? Of my duties?"
"I said no such thing," Annabeth shook her head, rising to stand on her feet. She took a tentative step towards her sister. "I do trust you, and I will give you space in your relationship."
"Then—"
"I'm sorry," Annabeth cut her sister question off. "It was a rash, thoughtless action." She took a deep breath, wrapped an arm around her stiff sister. "I acted on impulse alone, wanting to protect you. It won't happen again."
"Promise?" Rachel pressed, her eyes narrowed.
"Yes," Annabeth nodded. "I swear."
"Fine," Rachel decided with a purse of her lips, finally accepting Annabeth's embrace. "But if you do anything like that again, I won't speak to you for—no, I'll banish you!"
"Banish me?" Annabeth repeated back, trying not to laugh.
"Yes," Rachel asserted, holding her chin up high. "I will banish you to a remote country where there are no books or people to torment with your knowledge."
"You forgive me, then?" Annabeth asked, stepping back to look her sister in the eyes. They were bright green, just as she always remembered them, the same innocence glinting between shades of jade.
"Of course," Rachel rolled her eyes. "But this your last chance. One more misstep and you risk losing my trust and confidence forever—and I want you to apologize to Percy."
Annabeth groaned loudly.
"Stop it!" Rachel spat. "You shot an arrow at him! And now he's afraid you're plotting to assassinate him."
"I suppose I could ease his worries," Annabeth began.
"You must—" Rachel started before being interrupted by a loud yawn.
"Are you alright?" Annabeth inquired, truly examining her sister's appearance for the first time. There were dark rings under her eyes, just barely hidden by a thin layer of pale powder. "You look sickly."
"I'm perfect—"
"Rachel," Annabeth insisted, her bones tensing beneath her jawline.
"I just haven't been sleeping well," Rachel revealed.
"What do you mean?" Annabeth furthered, taking her sister by the arm and leading her over to the chair where she'd sat earlier. "Sit down for a second."
"Oh, my, Annabeth," Rachel sighed in an exasperated manner. "I'm entirely well, I've simply been plagued with the strangest dreams as of late."
"What kind of dreams?" the blonde pushed.
"Bad ones," Rachel shrugged. "I only remember flashes of them, but I wake in a cold sweat."
"What do you remember of them?"
"You," Rachel confessed blankly. Annabeth's lips formed a petite ring, but she remained silent, unsure what else to say. "And blood. Lots of blood."
"Is that all?" her sister whispered, her voice suddenly hoarse and small.
"No," Rachel shook her head. "I see Percy too—a crown—I don't know," she shook her head finally. "It's all too much to think about."
"Perhaps your subconscious is attempting to tell you something," Annabeth suggested, allowing her sister to stand.
"Don't even start, Annabeth," Rachel sighed. "I'll see you at dinner where I'll be asking Percy whether or not you apologized"
"I'll find him before that," the blonde promised her sister, throwing her grimace.
"Thank you," Rachel grinned. "Your Highness."
"Goodbye, your Highness," Annabeth returned mockingly, unable to resist a smile.
...
"So," Annabeth began without introduction, striding smoothly into the dormitory where Percy was staying. He was at his desk, writing a letter it seemed. At the sight of her, he started, standing quickly. "I hear you think I plan to kill you, Duke."
"Your Highness," Percy greeted with the slightest of bows, his lips tight and jaw jutted. "I'm sure I don't know what you're referring to."
"Duke Jackson," Annabeth sighed, advancing so she was standing before him. "I'm no fool, nor am I a threat to your life."
"Your Highness shot an arrow at my head today," Percy scoffed, finally meeting her eyes. They were sleet green, hard and polished. "Surely, you understand my concern."
"As a matter of fact, I don't," Annabeth replied sweetly, her eyes taking a moment to scan the letter laying half finished on his desk. "I didn't shoot an arrow at your head, I shot it at your hand—the gap between your hand and my sister, to be specific."
Percy rolled his eyes and parted his lips, his head tilting as his tongue turned to form words.
"You might now know me very well, Duke," Annabeth cut him off before he could get anything out. "But I don't miss. I never do, in fact." She smiled simperingly, the faux sweetness crinkling at the corners of her lips. "If I had been aiming for your head, you would be dead."
"What is this then?" Percy interjected. "An apology or a threat?"
"I suppose the former is closer," Annabeth decided slowly. "Though what I have come to deliver is truly more of a statement—a declaration, perhaps."
"And what is that?" Percy sneered, blinking languidly as he stared at her.
"You're not wrong in perceiving me as dangerous," Annabeth revealed, tilting her chin up to attempt to meet his stature. "As I told you at the ball, to those who threaten me or my family, I am indeed dangerous." She swallowed, took a deep breath, counted to one, two, three—before watching lungs fill at the suspense. "Consider today, as a gesture of goodwill, I could have very well killed you but I chose not to."
"So?" he pressed.
"I told you I am no danger to you," she clarified, firmly. "Today I have proven you that is true."
"Duly noted," Percy responded, his eyes flickering with apparent boredom. "Is that all?"
"Is it," Annabeth finished. "But I needn't remind you that regardless of your future title, I am still a princess and for the moment, I outrank you. Thus it would do you well to treat me with respect."
He nodded, the muscles of his mouth tightening once again.
"And not to forget my title," Annabeth added, raising an eyebrow at the resultant silence.
"I'm sorry, your Highness," Percy ground out. "I will refrain from causing you any issue in the future."
"That would be greatly appreciated," Annabeth smiled politely, her eyes boring into his. With a flick of her fingers, she called her guards, signaling for them to follow her as she exited the room.
...
Despite her mother's insistence, Annabeth didn't find dinner an especially pressing matter that night. Instead, she spent her night in the library, meticulously taking notes on diplomatic theory. Though she would never be a diplomat herself, Annabeth figured there was no reason for her not to touch up on her persuasion skills. She was nearly halfway through her reading when one of her servants interrupted.
"Your Highness," they bowed, holding a small bundle in their hands. "A package arrived for you."
"Leave it on the table," Annabeth instructed with a small smile, her gaze glued to the parcel. A small smirk touched her lips as her servant neared and the blonde realized what the package contained: a book. "Thank you," she dismissed the servant.
Once they were gone, Annabeth carefully bookmarked the text she'd been examining and set it aside. Slowly but surely, she stood from her chair, moving towards the package. She picked up the letter that accompanied it and recognized the seal almost immediately. It was Sir Nicolas's. She tore open the message, quickly discarding the envelope. It read:
Your Highness,
After considerable study, I have located several texts that I believe will be of use to you. Alongside this letter I have attached the only one I was able to obtain quickly, the rest will trickle in over the course of the month at which time I will have them sent to you immediately.
I have the honor to be your humble servant,
Sir Nicolas
Annabeth's eyes hungrily read over the note's contents before turning towards the enclosed book. With a leer, she felt the thick spine through the brown paper that hid the manuscript. Carefully, she stripped away the packaging and flipped through the first few pages, allowing her inquisitive stare to glide over the words.
Annabeth settled back into her chair, the text in her lap. Over the course of the next few hours, she devoured the information the book held. To her dismay, however, it seemed the Jackson's had an incredibly tired story. They had managed to maintain a relatively clean bloodline, disowning those who disrespected their desire to rise up. They were bankers, had gained power through commerce. Atlantis was nothing special. Sure, it was sizable, but there was nothing extraordinary or unique about the miles of fields they owned.
Annabeth deemed the ports were a valuable asset, though. They were one of the only modes of entry and exit from the mainland and they offered a great financial opportunity. Nonetheless, in the book, Annabeth found nothing that would suggest the Jacksons sought revenge or harm on her family.
Had they only poisoned William Dohlov for an opportunity to rule then? To have their only male heir at the center of a strong kingdom?
Annabeth supposed it wasn't a completely ridiculously sentiment. Her mother had always said men sought nothing but power. It was a logical escalation.
Still, something felt off. There was still a puzzle piece missing from the story—Annabeth was sure of it.
It was nearly five in the morning when Annabeth finally shut the book for the night. She could hear the faint chirping of birds outside as she neared one of the many windows that decorated the library's walls. She carefully hid her new volume amongst a bundle of books about archery. No one ever delved into that section except her.
Annabeth sighed as she considered what she'd learned—how little she'd learned, in fact. If she wanted the entire truth, she would have to resort to more ethically contentious methods. As her gray gaze traced the orange halo just beginning to show on the horizon, she wondered if she could get information out of Rachel.
No, she decided with a sharp shake of her head. If Rachel realized anything, Annabeth would lose her closest confidant—her only friend—her only—
No, she wouldn't—couldn't do that.
No, instead she would break into her father's study, she decided. Yes, that would be easy—well, not easy, but easier than losing Rachel, nevertheless.
Yes, she would break into her father's study and if she didn't find anything then, she would drop the issue. She would trust her mother's judgment and forgive but never forget.
By the time Annabeth returned to her room, the morning glow was scarcely kissing the purple twilight. As she lay in bed, her hair intricately woven into braids and her head against a silk pillow, she wondered if Rachel couldn't sleep. She worried her sister would be plagued with nightmares again. She wondered what it could mean. Rachel had always had a rather frightening ability to detect when trouble would enter their little bubble.
Annabeth's eyes fluttered shut, but before the familiar peaceful darkness could overcome her, she found herself stuck back in that dreaded room all those years ago. It all seemed to flash before her very eyes. Her sister laughing in the windowed alcove. A gust of wind. The sudden gleam of steel. Rachel's gasp piercing through the air. A rush of terror.
Annabeth's eyes shot back open. She breathed harshly for one, two, three counts before turning onto her back and counting the wrinkles in her canopy until she was so exhausted she fell into a deep sleep.
a/n: it's hard to justify why exactly I've been inactive for so long. I just started college and life has felt so incredibly busy. Whenever I had a second of free time, suddenly I feel like there is something I should be doing. So even tho there's really no excuse for not updating for nearly six months, that's my reasoning. Regardless, I'm very very sorry. I realized a while ago that I can't promise frequent and regular updates until summer probably.
Nonetheless, I made a commitment a long time ago in which I promise never to abandon a story as I'd seen so many do before me. So basically, you should expect all these stories to be finished eventually, even if it is in 50 years. In all seriousness, I have finally found a good balance in college and am going to be able to be writing much more which will mean more updates :)))) so basically, thank you all for putting up w me. Hope this chapter is enough to keep yall going for a little longer.
Ciao :)
p.s. sorry if there are errors, its late and i dont want to edit
