Welp, it's me again, some time later. Sorry for making you guys wait, yeah, that's not really nice, but this is pretty long. About the updating more regularly thing… it's going to come into play soon.
Anyways, I realized that last chapter was pretty weird and hard to stomach. Sorry. Hopefully, this one'll won't be confusing at all. My goal is to make it transparent and high-quality.
Enjoy!
"Higher, Annabeth, higher!" Madame Lark's voice rang out sharply.
She gripped the metal bar harder, clenched her jaw, and pushed up with her toes. She was raised to standing on the very tip of her feet. Her feet felt like they were getting crushed, and the coldness of the wooden floor bore into her veins. Sweat beaded on her neck from how hard she was setting her jaw.
Madame Lark slowly swept around her in a circle, her hawk-like eyes examining every inch of her posture. "Did you even put on a corset this morning?" She prodded Annabeth's stiff and heavily padded waist with a bony finger. "You don't look any slimmer."
Her blood was pounding in her head. The corset the maids put on her this morning was one of her smallest. The bar was getting slippery under her hands.
Madame Lark continued to circle her. "I want you to stand completely straight. You are almost folded in half. And set your hands further apart. Now— oh my! You're sweating! Get down!"
She sank down, shoving her weight back onto the arches of her feet. A low sigh of relief escaped her lips. Madame Lark's black eyes narrowed at the sound of it. "Are you complaining, Miss Athena?"
"No, madam," she mumbled.
"Are you?" She asked louder, her thin eyebrows knotting together in anger.
"No," she said loudly and clearly. "Madam."
Madame Lark pursed her lips into a tiny wrinkled purse. "As a lady, you are to be married in months. What gentleman would wed you if you couldn't even stand up? Or dance properly?"
She lowered her gaze, like she was supposed to. Exhaustion of the same lecture, over and over, weighed at her limbs.
"Only your beauty and manners could make you a choice for a bride," Madame Lark droned on. "Both of those are clearly undeveloped. You need to make an effort to be graceful and mannered if you want a husband and a family. Every daughter of Athena is supposed to married to a rich and successful family. But you are far from attracting any eligible bachelor." She glowered down at her for a bit, then cleared her throat. "You may leave now. This lesson is over."
Annabeth curtsied, bid her teacher farewell, and strode outside the dancing room, shame clinging onto her with firm hands. Suddenly, Madame Lark called out, "Wait, Annabeth!"
She spun around, her skirts flying, exposing their many lace petticoats. She realized that her movement was too abrupt and opted for slow, almost-gliding steps over to Madame. "Yes, madam?"
She peered down at her from her long, ridged nose. "Do not, in the future, perspire so much. It is unseemly in a lady and should not occur." With that, she lifted her chin, turned, and glided off.
Annabeth felt her eyes grow wide, then narrow at the irony. What was she supposed to do about a physical condition? Annoyance suddenly rose inside her, along with heat. All these insufferable expectations of her were completely unattainable. She clenched her gloved fists, not caring if she wrinkled the delicate satin fabric, and stormed down the halls, her skirts flying. She rushed down the stairs and turned into a side hallway before remembering her reason to be here. A slow smile smoothed out her angry features.
She excitedly headed over to the double doors by the end of the hallway. She knocked twice, then picked up her skirts and walked inside. The air of the kitchen was warm and steamy. Long counters were stacked with bubbling pots and pans, while other aproned servants kept to the center tables, where they chopped food at a flying speed. Flour was sprinkled across almost all of the smooth wood surfaces, joined by drips of sauces. Appliances and strings of herbs hung from the ceiling and walls. She picked her way through different cooks and maids, hard at work, holding her silky skirts close to herself. As she stepped out of the way of servants carrying boiling pots or partially cleaned poultry, their eyes all widened and followed her closely. Finally she got to the back, where a huge oven's heat basted her face and neck.
A rotund chef in a large flour-dusted uniform had his back to her, his large fingers expertly kneading yellowed dough. Jars of cream and milk and a basket of eggs surrounded him, and a slightly dented mixing bowl sat patiently by his elbow. "Chef?" She called, raising her voice to be heard over the crackling of flames in the oven.
He spun around, and his face split into a wide grin. "Miss Chase!" He proclaimed loudly. "How are you? Do you like your first trip inside the kitchen?"
"It's nice," she answered politely. Honestly, aside from soon getting berated for staining her gown, she enjoyed the energy and productivity in the air. And since it was nearing dinnertime, the smells were heavenly. But she only wanted one particular smell. "Thanks for inviting me. Can I pick up my gift?"
"Sure!" He wiped his hands on a towel and reached up to a shelf beside the oven. He lifted down a plate of perfectly shaped, yellow-and-brown pastries. The tart smell of the citrus icing and the sweetness from the confectioners' sugar dusting them was already enticing her. She steadied her fingers, trying to grasp the madeleines at her first glimpse of them.
"Wait," the chef teased, wagging a finger at her. He went to a lower cabinet, lifted out a small beaten sliver box, laid out a lacey handkerchief at the bottom, then stacked the madeleines inside. Then he found a blue ribbon and neatly tied a bow at the top. His fingers might've been pudgy, but he'd spent years icing the most delicate flowers onto three-tier cakes. "Here you go, milady," he said, handing to her. "Enjoy them."
"Thank you, Chef!" She said with uncharacteristic gratitude. She swept into a low curtsy.
"Spare me your elegance, Annabeth. I'm too lowly for that." He was still grinning widely.
"I so thankful for these, Chef. Goodbye." She curtsied again, carefully weaved her way through the kitchen, and darted upstairs to her own sitting room. She stuffed half of them into her mouth almost all at once, then remembered to call for tea to have with it.
A maid helped make the tea, then graceful lifted the large teapot and poured warm brown tea into her tiny gold-rimmed teacup. She stirred in the sugar, plated the madeleines without needing to be asked, and left with a curtsy. Annabeth was about to continue feasting when she remembered that she had to save one, which she placed back into the box.
When she'd drained the last drop of earl grey tea, only the single remaining madeleine that was tucked away, she settled into the pillow behind her. Her eyes caught the short grandfather clock in the corner, and her mood downed a little.
Remember what you told yourself, she thought. The madeleines are your reward for tonight. You better behave.
She sighed softly. Then she called for two maids. One to clean up the tea, one to mail the box to Piper. Her best friend was lucky, getting an extra madeleine and not having to attend the ball tonight.
When she was done enjoying herself, she headed to her room and started reviewing appropriate conversation topics and her manners. If she must talk with adults at the ball, she could not afford to make a single improper mishap.
"Miss, why are you invited to this ball?" Julia asked. She was probably just trying to take Annabeth's mind off the new corset the other maids were lifting out of a case, but she sounded fairly curious.
She smiled at Julia as a fine linen chemise was slipped over her head. "It's a dinner for all the Olympian adults, which is a rare and elaborate occasion. Recently, some of my relatives have been bringing their children, so now almost everyone selects their favorite child to show off. Athena, somehow, decided to pick me."
Annica leaned over. "Of course, miss. You're the most beautiful and the most smart. Plus you have the best manners."
She smiled wanly. "That is hardly so. But thank you, Annica."
"See!" She crowed, pointing at her.
The other maids joined in, piling up compliments. "You are no doubt the most skilled child she has. There is no one else she should pick," Annica stated confidently.
She let them lead her to the pole by the dressing area. "No. Almost all of my siblings are smarter. And I barely have any manners."
Julia set her hands on her hips and raised her chin. "Miss, you need to see that you are the best. Every one of us can tell."
She fell silent as the whalebone structure was placed around her torso, and sucked in a breath right before they started yanking the strings through the back. Then they secured a new dress, which Athena picked, around her. It was quite a beautiful one. The torso was a medium gray, and the full skirt was a firm blond fabric, with dove silk curtaining both sides. Seed pearls trailed down the embroidered front, both for decoration and to make her appear thinner. Frothy lace puffed up from the low collar, and an almost identical hem was draped from the edges of the leg-of-mutton sleeves. A matching shrug, graphite-colored with blond fabric lining the sleeves came afterwards. Even the satin slippers had the most delicate stitching on it, with seed pearls sewed on by the toes.
At her vanity, the maids took care with keeping her curls' original shapes, braiding and pining them into a small, curled-up bun at the back of her head. They also tugged out a few extra strands to fall down against her neck, as it was the current fashion. They secured a thin headband of diamonds above her hairline, and a few diamond-crusted pins onto or beside the bun to match. A large, circular sapphire in light blue rested in the hollow of her throat, with tiny crystals lined up away from it on the delicate sliver chain. Heavy earrings made of slivery-blue opals and white topaz hung at her earlobes.
While these jewelry pieces were selected to show wealth, they were also carefully picked to compliment her stark gray irises. Only when it came to her bracelets did the Athena house's most common gray diamonds appear, just in case they could outshine her eyes. On her index finger was a large band of gold, with a teardrop-shaped piece of champagne diamond. Then came an assortment of moonstone and obsidian and amethyst rings. Only at important family dinners did Athena get this excessive. She'd even got her a new set of makeup. Her maids eagerly examined the pearl powder for her face, beeswax and crushed flowers to make a lip salve, multiple dyes, a foul-smelling concoction of eye paint, and even crushed aventurines. Julia stood up and expertly applied it.
When she was done, Annabeth's complexion was paler, her cheeks rosier, her lips shinier and reddened. If one peered closely, they could see the faintly colored eye paint and the tiny pieces of jewels on her eyelashes. But it was not too obvious that she was wearing any makeup, because that was spoken against, though still privately done by all ladies. That was a good way to sum up most of the things women of the ton did, she thought dryly.
"You look completely natural, miss," her maids praised. "You don't need so much makeup."
"But all the precious stones would make you glitter," Annica noted. "You would look like an Aphrodite daughter in the ballroom, miss."
She blushed. "Alright, you all may stop with the flattery. I don't see why you're using it at all."
"Have you considered that we actually believe what we're saying, Lady Annabeth? You're so modest, you must be the most proper lady in all of London," one of the newer, maids proclaimed bravely.
Julia grinned, dimples appearing in her tawny cheeks. "I thought Athena's daughters were supposed to be prideful."
She studied the gleaming lacquered surface of her vanity. "All I know about what Athena expects from me is perfection."
"Then she's clearly not expecting anything right about now," Annica said, and the other maids nudged her, appreciative of the clever comment. Annabeth just rolled her eyes and stood up, her full skirts marking a wide radius of space just for herself. The seamstresses' daughter, Willie, eyed the silk approvingly.
"She's bound to go now," Annica declared, pushing them off to the side. "Come on, now, make space for our lady." They all smiled and waved as she left her bedchambers and ascended down the grand staircase to the first floor. A rouge image flashed into her mind, where she was stepping down a similar, but newer staircase, wearing a looser, and a tall, broad-shoulder man was waiting down by the feet of the stairs. She got the sense that she was supposed to know that man very well. She immediately shook that picture out of her head, but the stirring, breathless emotion that came with it still lingered.
She took in a breath, trying to clear her head, and stepped down the rest of the stairs. Her butler was politely waiting by the side, his hands folded and facing to the right. Only when her slippers were softly grazing the marble floor did he send her a quick smile and turn so they were both facing forward. She took his arm and let him lead her to Athena's grandest carriage. The gold tassels rimming the whole thing and the heavy brocades on the dappled gray chests of their horses shone in the dawn light. Annabeth was about to admire the modern, clever shape of the structure when someone in front of it caught her eye. Athena.
Her heart skipped a beat. Athena looked stunning tonight. Her gown was dark gray with paler, rippling swirls, and it had a silken gleam, like it was water rippling over dark pebbles. A gold penchant hung around her neck, and her slate-gray gloves were covered with fetching black-and-white lace. But as her mother turned to face her, it became clear what was the star of this masterpiece. Her platinum hair-so similar to Annabeth's-was pulled back into a sleek, unbraided bun. This left her face completely uncovered, and without any of the unseemly makeup her eyes were the first thing you noticed, awe-inspiring and so intimidating Annabeth felt her knees tremble. They appeared to be a thousand different tints of gray, all melting into one harsh charcoal in the faint afternoon light. Like thunderclouds gathering all over the sky and pausing, determining whether you were worth their torrent.
"Hello, Annabeth," she said in a voice like a glacier slicing through frigid waters: icy, but calm.
"Mother," she answered, trying to keep her own dull voice from trembling. She curtsied carefully and slowly, keeping her eyes on the ground and trying to not flinch at all the mistakes she was probably making with the basic movement.
"Are you ready for this ball?" Athena's eyes seemed to stare down at her, even more than before.
She folded her hands, feeling the cold of her gemstone rings through her thin white gloves. She hoped Athena could not see how much she was fumbling with them. "I believe so, Mother."
She raised her knife-sharp chin. "What was that?"
She realized her mistake too late. "Yes, I am ready." She continued looking down submissively.
Athena studied her coldly. "That gown does not look too horrible. Good." Without so much as a flick of her hand, she turned and accepted the waiting footman's hand, easily stepping inside the carriage.
Annabeth mentally counted the number of seconds she should wait before following, which was specifically decreed in "The Guidebook for Proper Young Aristocrat Ladies of London." She closely followed most of which what was prescribed inside, since formality was possibly inbred into her nature, but some of the rules she detested for how absurd they were. Yet, around Madame Lark and Athena those, specifically, were a must. The footman dutifully helped her up, and she demurely took a seat across from her mother. The air immediately felt stifling, but no lady ought to be sitting by an open window.
The carriage quietly rolled forward, the only sound of their journey the soft patter of horse hooves on paved road. Annabeth kept her gaze firmly glued to her seed-pearl-sewn slippers and tried to ignore the occasional cool brush of her mother's look.
It seemed like an eternity, after which Annabeth's spine began to ache from remaining completely and utterly upright, when the hooves stopped clattering. There was only the tiniest shift between them two as they both realized they'd arrived. The same footman, with his large and pompous breeches, gracefully swung the door open and held out a gloved hand.
Athena performed many impossible feats in a row at this point. She half-straightened up, since one could not stand upright under the carriage's low ceiling, but she had not lost her perfect posture at all. In fact, she looked as commanding as she would've with a ruler-straight spine while bending halfway at her waist. She faced the footman with a in-control, almost-smile and delicately took his offered hand. Then she stepped out, straightening so gracefully it was like she never crouched before in her life.
Annabeth… did not perform something close to that. She rather not go into detail. A second, shorter footman smoothly slid into formation next to her. Athena always had a plan to be played out. She took his arm a moment after Athena did with hers without needing to be asked.
Before them was the grandest building in London. The Olympus Mansion. It was designed like an ethereal, ancient palace with the most expensive measures found. Annabeth was taller than the average lady, and her relatives all possessed the power to tower over everyone around them, but the gaping entryway dwarfed them all. She gingerly stepped onto the cloud-white marble of the driveway, feeling shivers race down her spine whenever her feet touched the thick gold veins shooting through the stone. Orderly garden plots were set on both sides, with emerald-green grass and exotic flowerbeds. Athena's eyes were hard stones as she easily ascended the tall stretch of steps before the entrance. Before the doors was an empty stretch of pure white marble, lined with orderly Grecian columns. The spotless limestone towers reached up to an elaborate frieze of all the Olympians, sculpted by the most talented artist of this century. The glorious carvings of their family stretched across the whole mansion. Right in front of them were two imposing wooden doors, taller than the heavens, were thrown wide open to display a ballroom-sized front hall. Well-dressed servants stood beside each door, smiling formally.
The footmen retrieved their arms from them both with precise timing, and Annabeth mildly stepped up so she was just next to Athena.
The servant waiting closest to them bowed lowly. "Many thanks, Your Grace, for attending this banquet."
"Welcome to the Olympus Mansion," the servant beside him said with impeccable Queen's English. The servants of this place that were required to talk to their masters received an education, Annabeth guessed.
Right afterwards, the cordial but formal gazes of the two greeters landed on her. "Thank you for coming to this banquet, Lady Athena." "Welcome to the Olympus Mansion."
She offered them her most ladylike smile, hoping it wasn't stiff, and followed her mother inside.
The front hall was breathtaking. It was the size of the largest ballroom she'd ever been in, and a thousand times more lavish. The tall walls were covered with expensive yellow satin, embroidered with actual gold thread. The floor was covered with a huge and ancient Persian carpet, but where it stopped gleaming mahogany wood floorboards were displayed. Beaten gold scones hung at regular intervals on the walls, and the expensive metal was so thin Annabeth could see the flickering candlelight inside. From the impossibly high ceiling hung a gigantic chandelier, almost the size of their carriage. It was set in thin, curving strands of bronze, and intricately carved diamonds hung down from each tendril as a thick fringe. Cups of gold were carefully set on the longest branches, where tall candles resided. Annabeth's back hurt to think of a servant who had to climb onto a ladder to switch out or light thousands of candles every day.
Athena swept through the room without so much of a glance around the room. Annabeth tried to keep her pace brisk while gliding. They started seeing Athena's relatives, gathered around the expensive artworks set on display or chatting by the velvet chairs set up beside miniature hearths. Athena coolly appraised her siblings with quick, condescending looks, searching for someone worthy of conversation.
But someone found her instead. "Athena!" someone yelled, cutting through the room with long, confident strides. She certainty wasn't gliding, but Annabeth still admired her attention-drawing movements. Nike came to a stop in front of them and brashly threw her arms around Athena, who stood stiffly in the familiar embrace, but still managed to look the most proper.
"Hello, Nike," she said in her usual still voice. "How are you?"
She smiled confidently. "Me? Perfectly fine." Nike was probably one of her mother's most unladylike friends. She looked the part, in a loose golden gown and her dark hair braided up, but otherwise nothing else followed the lines of society. Her beautiful face was too angular face, and muscles stood out all over her form. She was a loud, very forward person who always won no matter what she did and showed it off.
Normally, Athena would have no connection to someone like Nike. She owned one of the smaller estates in London, which did not fare well to her reputation among the Olympians. And she never allowed anything to do with afternoon tea and lace gloves. But it was here, with her original home, did Annabeth catch a glimpse of her mother's true self. Athena's eyes glittered like the edge of a metal blade, and she wore an amused, prideful smile which was certainly prohibited in every book about manners. She still had grace draped across her shoulders like a shrug, but cunning fitted her like armor. She looked like a trendy and properly-dressed mastermind assassin, if Annabeth was to be honest. Someone who was completely comfortable around someone with the likes of Nike.
They started casually strolling down the hall, chatting about something decidedly not who married who and who owned which estate, and Annabeth had to dutifully trail afterwards. She wouldn't exactly be missed if she left, and Mother wasn't going to berate her for not following the rules when she was like this, but in such a grandiose house like she felt the need to cling to manners. Finally, she won her internal debate and started searching the hall for someone her age.
Hephaestus and Beckendorf were far too immersed in something that looked like a steam engine for her to go over and tap his shoulder. Aphrodite brought one of her younger sons with a face of a cherub that Annabeth didn't recognize. She found Clarisse, but she knew better than to go over. Finally, she spotted Miranda sitting in one of the leather armchairs and nursing a cup of steaming tea. Annabeth settled herself into the one across from her.
"Good afternoon, Miranda. How are you enjoying this dinner banquet?" She kept her voice light and formal, but her smile was a warm, friendly one.
"Annabeth! Just who I wanted to see." Miranda set down her teacup in a saucer with delicate gold-and-sliver inlay. The garnets in the thick gold handle glittered with the light of the hearth. She looked more closely at the cup and found pinkish water with small flower petals resting at the bottom. Figures. "Well, to be frank, I'm enjoying this banquet a lot right now, but when we actually have to dine, I'll definitely reconsider that."
She smiled ironically. "I agree. You don't think that we'll have arranged seating placements, right? It's my first time here."
"Ah. Isn't it a huge honor? Though, kind of dull sometimes." Miranda reached over and clasped her hand with her own gloved one.
"Oh, that's a perfect description. Honestly, I'm completely surprised that my mother picked me."
Miranda's blond eyebrows drew together. "Why? You're clearly the smartest child she has."
"Not you, too. Why is everyone throwing so many compliments at me today?"
"Are you just acting modest? The Annabeth I know has a healthy amount of pride."
She smiled. Alright, maybe she did. She just never saw herself as incredible under her Mother's eyes, because she wasn't. "That's another compliment, Miranda. Thalia says my pride stacks up the clouds."
Miranda threw her head back and laughed, a boisterous but elegant laugh. "Now I must stop, I see. Otherwise your pride could reach the moon."
Thalia suddenly appeared beside them, dragging a stuffed armchair behind her. She planted it between them and sat, leaning in, her many obsidian-and-gold necklaces hanging over the low table. "Did I just hear something about the moon?"
Miranda repeated the last part, and she was roaring with laughter and slapping her knee. Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Is this necessary?"
"Yes," Thalia said in a condescending I'm way older than you voice. "You need to be put in your place, sweetheart."
"Honestly, how does on even follow these conversations? Just a few seconds ago, Miranda said I was being too modest, and now I'm missing my place?"
"If you didn't change so often, Annie, maybe we would make more sense," Thalia suggested sweetly.
She groaned. "Miranda and I were having a rather civilized conversation until you came along, Thales. And call me Annabeth, please."
"Sure thing, Annie."
She lowered her eyelids in disappointment at both of them. Miranda was openly laughing now, and Thalia's smirk stretched around her whole face. "I actually wish Mother didn't pick me. This banquet sounds dull, and now I'm getting bothered by my friends."
"Come on, Annabeth. I think it's wonderful that our parents picked us."
"Actually," Thalia stated matter-of-factly, grinning, "I'm here with Artemis." She pulled up her sleeve to show a sliver bracelet with a tiny deer penchant.
She fought back a smile. "Well. This banquet is far nicer with you two."
Annabeth had only been at the Mansion for around ten minutes when, finally, everyone got here. A herald announced at the stairs, "Dinner will commence soon, everyone please way their way to the dining hall." A small flock of well-dressed aristocrats gathered together and headed up the spiral staircase. They emerged onto long hallway with elaborate, almost life-sized portraits of the Olympians. Zeus went straight to the second door to the right. A servant standing by it pushed open the heavyset oak door, and the sweet scent of the flower bouquets set up on the long table wafted out.
An extremely well-dressed servant stepped up and cleared his throat. "Welcome, The Most Honorable Duke Zeus and The Most Honorable Duchess Hera." He turned to Jason, standing perfectly still next to his father. "Welcome, Lord Jason Grace, Zeus."
Poseidon was next, a warm smile on his suntanned face. Annabeth felt Athena stiffen beside her. "Welcome, The Most Honorable Duke Poseidon. Welcome, Lord Perseus Jackson, Poseidon." Annabeth's own grip on her reticule tightened in annoyance as she thought of their past meetings.
This went on. Athena got to enter after Hephaestus, so she was near the front of the line, but the servant's monotone greeting could still be heard as she took her assigned seat at the dining table. Her plate had golden swirls on its edges and a fine linen napkin tucked underneath. Her cutlery was thick sliver, and her glass was yellow-tinged crystal. A profusion of bright flowers sat across from her.
Finally, after getting formally greeted, everyone was seated. Luckily, she was put next to Miranda, but Thalia was a few seats away. They chatted on about their current lives, which was much more preferred than usual "appropriate" conversational topics.
Dinner was served, and as Annabeth cautiously tried the imported French dishes, she heard all about Miranda's personal garden. In turn, she talked about her manner lessons and all the courting she'd been involved with. They ended up doing quite a bit of gossiping, especially about Katie and Travis, so it was a pretty enjoyable evening.
The banquet went on as most did. Everyone dined until the sun set, and then they retreated to a ballroom for dancing. Thalia joined them as they surveyed the crowd for potential partners. Miranda got asked by Lee, and Lord Apollo determinedly pestered Thalia until she gave in, to the anger of Artemis. Annabeth decided to turn away at the sight of her aunt storming over to her twin, her sliver skirts flying and a deep scowl on her face.
She found Beckendorf milling by the edges and stopped in front of him. "Hello. How are you?"
"Oh, good. How are you?"
She decided to abandon prosperity. "I'm alright. This wasn't as bad as I thought."
Beckendorf grinned. "Yeah, well, sometimes it's not too bad. Are you here so we can dance together?"
"No, I'm here to save us from the awkwardness of standing around. So, basically the same thing."
He continued grinning. "Alright, then. May I have this dance?"
"You may." She held up her wrist and a fountain pen. He messily scratched his name on the dangling dance card and handed back the pen before bowing. She swiftly followed with a curtsy and extended her hand. He took it and gently led her to the dance floor.
He wasn't the most elegant dancer, in fact, his huge shoulders often bumped into nearby couples and his strength was too much for a simple twirl, but it was a fun dance nonetheless. He had a gentleness to the way he touched her, and Annabeth immediately understood why he and Silena were together.
Annabeth was next on Apollo's target list, and the whole dance he was playing matchmaker by whispering random things about Luke in her ear. She smiled faintly back at him and shot Artemis a pleading look when they were done, and he no longer bothered any other young ladies.
She had another few dances with Luke, and for the most part she was trying to push out all the scandalous advice Apollo had just given her out of her mind. But they were nice, familiar dances, but the way he sometimes smiled at her caused her throat to tighten. Why, she had no idea.
After the quadrille, she was panting and flushed from hopping around and hooking her arm into a new person's every few seconds. Plus, she was weary from stiffening every time Luke stared straight at her. So she excused herself and left for one of the tall glass doors in the back.
The heavy glass panes were cold under her gloved palms. She pushed it open and stepped out into the cool night air. It helped clear her mind a little.
She dwindled in the lantern-lit terrace for a bit. Little table sets were placed around the smooth wooden floor, just like in the hall. She took a seat in one of the satin-covered chairs and settled the cushiony pillow behind the small of her back. But sitting down made her mind race faster than ever. She took one of the brass oil lanterns from a low table and headed to the edge of the terrace. A thin wooden rail, up to her waist, guarded it from the manicured backyard. She propped her thick skirts against it and stared up at the thin clouds and the stars in the sky. Questions about her and Luke and others swirled in her mind. What Piper had once joked about her came true. She had so many suitors and she had no idea what to do with any of them.
Suddenly, a faint rushing sound reached her ears. It was gentle, more of a trickle, but definitely moving water. She held up her lantern, but it only illuminated a wide circle of grass. She leaned precariously over the rail, and then noticed a streak of moonlight streaming out from the clouds, lighting up a cluster of cattails and a river beyond that.
Annabeth's fingers tapped the railing indecisively. She really wanted to go see it, but she wasn't sure trekking through grass was the best idea while others waited for her inside. Just like earlier, when she was deciding whether or not to leave Athena, her more rebellious side won out. She hiked up her skirts and immediately realized the problem. She was not going to be able to lift one leg up over the railing and then the other, like she would've normally. The railing rose to where her belly button was. She placed both hands on top and pushed up, ungracefully seating herself on the thin bar of wood in the same motion. It creaked dangerously under her weight. She quickly threw both legs over to the other side, stabilizing herself with her arms. Then she had to pull her voluminous skirts over before turning completely. With a dramatic flourish, she dropped a few inches to the grassy floor, her skirts flying up temporarily. She lifted them and soon discovered that the neatly trimmed grass was still rather tall and got caught up with her slippers. She developed an indelicate trudge-walk where she mainly tried to keep both her gown and feet from the ground. Eventually she made her way to the moonlight-soaked grounds.
The cattails rustled musically in the wind, and a few remaining narcissus flowers hung pitifully over the streaming river. The waters themselves were liquid sliver in the moonlight, pouring along with easygoing calmness. She admired the view, congratulating herself for making the trip, when gentle splashes caught her attention. She turned and, she couldn't help herself, gasped loudly.
Sitting stoically by the riverbank was Lord Perseus himself. His usual deep-colored jacket was gone, only a starched shirt that was a bit tight around his shoulders. The first button of it was undone, and the strip of exposed skin looked like marble under the moonlight. Shivers racked Annabeth at how scandalous this was. His tousled raven locks almost blended in with the night, but they had a soft, silken sheen. His fancy breeches looked completely out of place with the rest of his relaxed attire. His boots sat beside him, and his ankles were dipped in the lake. They were completely still now, since he was looking back at Annabeth.
"Hello." He sounded eager, stretching it into two syllables. "You look ravishing tonight, Lady Athena."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you think so," she said sarcastically.
"Oh my, Lady Athena just stopped being ladylike. How is this possible?" He threw his hands up in the air. They were bare of gloves, and for some reason that prodded at her heart.
"You have an uncanny ability to bring out the worst in me, Perseus."
He leaned in, his eyes glowing like Greek fire. "You may call me Percy."
"Well, Percy, what are you doing out here by the lake?" His informal name felt foreign on her tongue, like she was barraging into someone else's land.
He cocked his head. "I could ask the same of you. Why spoil your expensive slippers on grass?"
She bit her cheek in annoyance. How did he predict her inner thoughts?
Percy's grin grew. He clearly read her expression. "Why? Someone with the likes of you ought to be dancing inside, with your fiancé."
Indignation bubbled inside of her. She couldn't decide what to protest at first. "Luke isn't my fiancé, and you don't know have the smallest idea of what the 'likes of me' is."
He raised his eyebrow. "But I do, dearest. Polite, well-mannered, quiet, always properly dressed, docile, pretty, and you think you're smart." The condescending tilt of his voice suggested the opposite.
She ground her teeth together. "Perseus," she said in her iciest voice. "You don't know what you're talking about, and seeing that you don't have an iota of sense, you never will."
"Oh, but you have sense?" His voice was taunting, like he was merely acknowledging some willful three-year-old's absurd idea.
She wanted to scream and claw at his sculpted face. Annabeth stomped closer, and used the advantage of standing to look down at him, but, unfortunately, he was so tall they were almost face-to-face. "I'm sorry, but I think you're forgetting something. You're Perseus Jackson, remember?" Her voice went sugary, so sweet her teeth ached. "Heir to one of the largest estates, invited to the best parties, a celebrity. And also? Filled with nothing but money and hot air." She rapped her knuckles on his head. She paused, almost long enough for guilt to crawl in. "You will never understand me."
Emotions flooded his face. Suddenly they stopped coming, and he stared at her. "No, I know better than that. You're not obedient at all. You're stubborn, irritable, and a force to be watched out for when you're mad." He smiled lazily, switching back to his usual demeanor. "Intriguingly complicated on so many levels."
What was he trying to insinuate now? She harrumphed, gathered her skirts, and sat down on the riverbank. Silence enveloped them. Annabeth was definitely angry at him, but flashbacks of the poetry he wrote in his letter and the rush of emotions from him kept coming back to her. That made her angrier, not knowing what to feel.
"I don't need you commenting on me all the time. Why do you make it a habit?" She asked quietly, without as much fire as she wanted.
Percy glanced at her. "I want you to know how I think of you," he answered with a half-smile. "You're worth it."
She sputtered. "Did you just say I was worth your opinion?" She laughed. "Well, if I was only worth that much, perhaps I'd actually appreciate your company."
"Annabeth, why do I feel like you get pleasure out of wounding me?" He said, his voice half-curious, half-offended.
"You might not imagine that's possible, but it's very amusing." She grinned at him.
He thrust his foot forward in the water. "Now I must add 'twisted sense of amusement' to my list about you." The gleam in his eyes finally revealed that he was joking, at least, partially.
"You know," she said, watching the cattails shift. "You never told me why you are out here."
"Just in case I could meet you."
She gave him a side glance. "You said you expected me to be dancing inside. Which I completely expected from you."
He let out a laugh. It was so musical it made Annabeth jealous. "It seems like we're pretty similar, then."
"Answer the question, Percy."
"I'm Poseidon's son. I spend my summers out on the sea, and my free time swimming in pools or our home's lake. When I discovered this river, it immediately became my hiding spot during these banquets."
"Well, why would you need a hiding spot?"
"Don't be too curious about me, Annabeth, it'll turn out unladylike." He smiled aggravatingly down at her. "The dances and the fun just passes by too quickly and all turns into the same thing. And maybe I just like being by this little river." He dipped his long fingers inside the water.
She didn't know how to reply. Finally, she decided to explain herself. "Well, I was tired out from the quadrille. And I wanted a breath of cold, fresh air."
"So, you decided to wander out from the terrace and walk the whole distance here?"
"Even as a lady, I don't get carried around, but you do."
He narrowed his eyes at her, but he didn't seem actually mad. "Actually, you looked like you were in some other place."
"What?" she asked, taken aback.
"I saw you, of course. Your hair shines in the dark."
She stared at her locks dubiously. "Right."
"And, my heart longs for yours, so when you walked outside, I immediately sensed that you were there."
She raised an eyebrow. "So, you were staring at me creepily in the dark. You seem like an aspiring romance novelist. You should talk with Ms. Austen."
"Oh, I have. She thinks my ideas are absolutely brilliant and that I would spark a new turn in literature."
"Impossible. And Jane Austen would never meet someone like you."
"Yes, she did," he insisted. "As soon as she'd heard my father's name, she would've called the nearest carriage and found me instead. Like anyone else would've."
"Oh, right, you have a huge title backing you up."
"Yes," he answered, but without his usual arrogance. Instead, his eyes dulled to unpolished, dug-up-from-the-dirt stones.
Unease stirred up inside her, and something close to concern. "What would you'd be without a huge and grand name?" She wanted it to come out as harsh, but it trailed off wonderingly.
He blinked slowly. Then, methodically, he reached for the hem of his breeches and rolled back the thick velvet. Long, tanned calves were exposed to the moonlight, and Annabeth's mouth suddenly felt dry. He easily got up and stepped down the riverbank. He waded through the water until it rose to his knees. "What would you be, without your name?" He shot back, his eyes unreadable because of the distance between them.
She swallowed, her fingers automatically finding the gray diamonds on her bracelets. They were intricate and hard and smooth. They didn't cast out pure white light when lit up, instead, dove gray light. She didn't know the answer. "It's not just a matter of names to me," she responded.
"Then, what? Family? Friends?"
Family. Her fingers tightened around the bracelet chains. She thought of Malcolm smiling comfortingly. Her father, looked lost and confused and bedraggled. Mother, with her gray-ice stare. Mother, lifting her chin up like she couldn't stand her face. Mother, coolly telling her that she didn't measure up to anything she was supposed to be. Mother, dropping her in the hands of Madame Lark to be molded into a lady. She suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe.
Something splashed loudly. "Beth? Annabeth?" Percy called worriedly, suddenly much closer.
She threw her shoulders back. "I'm fine."
"Don't start your dramatics around me, please. That was alarming."
The melting pot of harsh emotions started boiling and turning to one: anger. "Oh, I'm sorry I offended your delicate feelings." She pushed herself off the ground, her skirts getting under everything. "And everything else to you is just dramatics? Can't you open your eyes and see beyond your ego? No, wait, I shouldn't expect something like that from you. I must be as idiotic as you say I am then, to even think that you could be empathetic for a second. No, you're just a container of hot air, burning everything else. Can you just leave me alone, Percy? I don't want to hear your misleading compliments, see you smile arrogantly every single second, or listen to your nosy questions anymore. I don't know what you're trying to achieve by toying with me, and I don't want to, but if you continue trying to mess up my future, I will rip apart yours." She was breathing shallowly by then, and her glare was hotter than a furnace. At a loss for words, she scowled at him, picked up her skirts, and raced off into the dark.
The night wind shrieked in her ears, and a deep sense of loneliness suddenly settled into her heart.
Yes, I am done! Okay, I'm actually proud of this. Thought it would turn out weird. Now I know how sad it is to write fight/breakup scenes. *goes to a corner, cries* No, jk, I liked it 'cuz they both developed so much and actually got to know each other. And what's coming up is going to be epic. I know at least one person's waiting for it. *winks a bunch of times*
Anyway, I apologize for being late. I really want to update on time for you guys and write consistently. I also apologize for not doing the review replies, I'm tired and I spend way too much energy on those.
Au revoir,
Pride-and-loyalty