A/N: Hey y'all. I'm really sorry I didn't update. I know I don't really have a designated update schedule, but I tend to update on Saturdays, so I felt I owed y'all an apology.

I started summer school that Monday before I first missed an update (and no, I didn't fail shit; I'm just trying to finish the required Health class so I don't have to waste a semester/my elective options with that shit), so I was a bit busy, and exhausted all the time. I guess I forgot how much school drains me? Maybe it's the socialization XD

Plus I joined some other things, like a volunteer board for my local library, and I've been doing a lot of volunteering recently; I need to get those hours if I want the honor cord :P And then when I did get time to write, I was working on a piece for a writing competition, and I'm trying to get driving hours, and I really need to finish this art piece for another competition, and I need to practice instruments because there's a competition coming soon, and there's these forms I need to fill out that are due soon, and a million other things, and just- help. *long exhale*

I suppose it doesn't really matter, I just wanted to offer a small explanation if possible, for my absence. I don't like to let you guys down and I realize I kinda did by not updating for weeks together.

To anyone who shot me a PM or reviewed regarding my absence, thanks. You really didn't have to check in to see if I was alright, but thanks. It means a lot, seriously.

Disclaimer: All rights remain. Additionally, the little "oath" thing during the coronation is pretty much the White Lantern Oath from DC Comics lol, I just replaced two words to fit this story better. I can't write oaths for my life~

Nico

"You will meet her, and you will like it. I know Bianca's absence has been hard on you, but you cannot just dismiss all your duties. You will be King soon. Loss is part of life, and it will hurt, but you must move on. Perhaps all this foolishness will dissipate after tomorrow, after her funeral. Perhaps you just need closure. I hardly think it matters. She will be here this evening."

Nico buried his face in his hands, exhaling slowly. Needless to say, his talk with Persephone hadn't gone well. He was to put his sister in a grave the next day, and entertain some girl tonight, someone he would probably be expected to marry soon. How twisted is that? How had his entire life turned to shit? His head pounded. Usually, he would welcome the pain with open arms, the tangible feeling reminding him that he was still alive, no matter how much he wished he wasn't. It would help him keep his grip on reality, but not tonight. Tonight he had to entertain his mother's whims and pretend to fancy some girl. He didn't even like girls. And therein lies the issue.

Nico stood, swinging open his bedroom door.

"Get me a healer," he snapped, and then slammed the door shut again. Those guys were magic, perhaps they could heal his broken heart while they were at it. His lips curved up in a humorless smile. Hopefully, they wouldn't send the castle healer. The smile dropped instantly at the thought of his soft-looking hair, his easy smile, his charm. He didn't remind him of Percy at all, which should've made Nico feel better, but honestly, it only made him ache worse. Because this healer, Will Solace he'd figured out was his name, he was so much more dangerous than Percy. Because it wasn't supposed to be like this, and he wasn't supposed to plague his thoughts all the fucking time from one motherfucking, puny interaction in which Nico had probably acted like a total bastard anyways.

Nico scraped his nails deep into his scalp, drawing blood. He didn't flinch. Blood, he'd found, didn't bother him anymore. Not since he'd found his sister in a pool of her own blood. It was surprisingly cold, blood, and it gleamed scarlet like a pretty flower.

When Nico looked at the men older than him, he wondered how much time he truly had left. He really wasn't sure how long he could do this, hanging on barely by a thread. He didn't do drugs, like those Kings who drowned themselves in glasses of whisky at the end of the day behind closed doors, but he was addicted to the pain. He kept telling himself it was a habit he wanted to break, but every day he needed his fix, a little more than the day before. And a little more blood found its way, rising to the surface of his skin in mysterious new cuts and bruises, the souvenirs he kept from drilling himself in a dark training arena, all by himself.

Tapping at the door jolted him out of his little daydream.

"It's open," he called out, his voice raspy. The door swung up open slowly, and immediately he regretted his decision to seek help for his migraine. Fuck. There he was in all his blond perfection. Nico dug the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw dark spots.

"I heard you had a bit of a bad headache," Will said kindly. He softly closed the door. Nico scowled at the ground.

"That would be correct."

"My suggestion would be to simply sleep it off, sir," Will suggested. "I'm aware it's unorthodox to sleep in the middle of the day, and I understand the royals will probably frown upon it, but I can release you from your duties with a doctor's note, if you'd like," he offered.

"I can't," said Nico, his voice devoid of emotion. "I have business to attend to in a couple hours. I need a quick fix." He met Will's baby blue eyes and regretted that too. Now he could not look away without looking weak, and damn it because Will made him weak.

"Sir, I must strongly advise you to cancel all further business for the day. You need rest," he murmured gently, soothingly.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Will countered, surprising Nico. Nobody ever dared question him. If he said no, that was that. He would be King, nobody dared disrespect him when he would soon have so much power and could fuck them up once on the throne. Hades was a man of justice and his son had been raised the same way, with a memory just as sharp, and a sense of right and wrong implanted in every cell in his body. Which is why that made this so hard. This was too wrong.

"My mother is demanding that I meet a Duchess this evening," Nico admitted, quite bluntly.

"Oh." The tips of Will's ears turned pink and Nico couldn't help but smile a tiny bit at that. Will had probably not expected him to be so forthcoming. "I see. That's quite a pickle you've gotten yourself in, then."

"Indeed."

"Maybe I can find some medicine to help you kick the feeling," Will acquiesced. "I usually try to avoid pills or potions on the norm, but I think we can make an exception in this case."

"Thank you," Nico whispered, so faintly he was afraid Will would not hear. Again, it was odd to thank your lower ranks, but it was instilled in him, this desire to keep his sister's memory alive, her stubborn need to treat everyone as an equal. She would have made a good Amazon, Nico realized with a start. The irony was not lost on him. He scowled darkly, hating himself, and hating the Amazons, and hating Will, and hating this cruel world that left siblings tragically stranded and apart in two worlds that would perhaps never meet. Nobody knew what came after death, not really. It was a sobering thought. Will's calm steadiness snapped him out of his reverie; as weird as it was to thank lower ranks, it was that much weirder to speak out of turn, or respond to a higher rank. It seemed Will didn't follow the norm either.

"It's no problem, sir. It's my job to help people." The corners of his eyes crinkled and Nico felt warm all over, like the sunrises in the mornings he no longer noticed and appreciated because he didn't sleep at night to wake up with something beautiful that was a sunrise.

"And sir?"

Nico looked up.

"Good luck with the Lady." He smiled a little, amused perhaps by the image of Nico entertaining some fancy girl. Then he bowed his head and walked out the door, leaving a perplexed soon-to-be King on his own bed with a small, white pill in the palm of his hand.

Annabeth

"You know, curiosity killed the cat," Percy stated loudly, making Annabeth jump despite herself. She wasn't a scaredy-cat, no way, not ever. But Sally didn't seem like the type to lie, and if her stories were true even in the slightest, Annabeth had every right to be a tad on the jumpy side. Or so she told herself.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, feigning impassiveness. "That's not even the full saying, dumbass," she quipped.

Percy grinned darkly. "I'm assuming you're going to bestow your knowledge upon me, then, oh great know-it-all," he teased.

Annabeth's eyes shot daggers at him and he held his hands up in mock surrender, the son of a bitch. "Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back," the blonde completed the phrase for him, sniffing haughtily just for show.

He laughed immediately, quickly morphing it into a poorly faked cough. She frowned; she hated to be laughed at.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, momentarily pausing their trek through the woods to sternly plant her feet and put her hands on her hips in annoyance.

"Nothing," he coughed, choking over his amusement. Annabeth bit her bottom lip.

"Don't lie to me," she accused, crossing her arms across her chest.

He shook his head. "It's nothing, it's just- satisfaction, really? What kind of satisfaction could you possibly get from seeking out a crazy old dude in the woods? Have you never read stories? Oh, right. The great Annabeth Chase doesn't read fairy tales, my bad. I bet you grew up watching documentaries," he smirked.

Annabeth pressed her lips together because there was no way in hell she was going to admit that, yes, she had read the archives on politics from the time she could read, had learned to sound out the big words, and they had been her first 'books.' Asshole.

He correctly interpreted her silence as confirmation for his previous statement, and his smirk only widened in a lazy smile that made her heart beat faster in her chest. "Well, anyways. In these stories that normal people read for enjoyment, though that word is probably not in your dictionary-"

"-it would serve you well not to make assumptions, Mr. Jackson," she interrupted, but he just grinned in that way that made her knees felt like jelly despite herself, and continued.

"They always go into the woods," he gestured with his hands in a way that was strangely endearing.

"They?" Annabeth inquired, and was promptly ignored.

"And then some genius always proposes the idea of splitting up. The stupidest one of the bunch, typically the one who thought of the idea of splitting up in the dark, scary woods, usually dies first. Walks into a room with chainsaws or something and mildly wonders why there's chainsaws, calls out for family members and friends as the music heightens and then," Percy drew his pointer finger across his neck, chuckling at the dark joke. Annabeth's mouth fell open in slight horror and surprise at how easily he joked about death. "Then," he continued, "the one racially diverse person with a thick accent is the second to go because they can't kill off minorities first, that looks racist," the ex-Prince pointed out, and at this point, Annabeth was a little shell-shocked.

He didn't really seem to have a filter, or care much either. On one hand, it was admirable that he spoke only the truth, bluntly, but ever honest. But on the other hand, it was a bit disquieting, the ease with which is joked about the demise of fictional characters, and the racial portrayals in story books. Suddenly, she realized he'd still been talking, and she'd zoned out. Snapping her head back up, and praying he hadn't noticed, the blonde trained her steely silver eyes on him again.

"-but those demons are usually like a hundred dollars are something, and so fake it's funny. And then it either ends with everyone dying, my personal favorite, because honestly they were all dumbasses to do all this shit anyways," he added thoughtfully. "Or, like two people survive, and apparently we never hear about their PTSD and follow-up therapy. They really should make sequels. Imagine how entertaining that would be." He finally looked up at her, as if acknowledging her presence for the first time.

Annabeth blinked. "You're crazy," she said immediately.

He cracked a smile and tilted his head to one side slightly. "Really?" he drawled, clearly poking fun at her. "Whatever could give you that impression? I'm sure my father would have had me tested if that was the case, now, Princess."

"How can you joke about demise like that?" she murmured, rethinking her life choices.

"Well," Percy looked up for a moment, as if considering her comment carefully. "We're all going to die anyways, so might as well make the best of it, should we not?"

Annabeth scoffed in disbelief, and slight amusement. "Quite the nihilist, aren't you?" She pushed a low-hanging, gnarled branch out of her face, and subconsciously held it out of the way for Percy too, instead of whacking him in the abdomen with it.

He shrugged, grinning a little. "A little dark humor never hurt anyone."

"It clearly hurt the people in the woods," she murmured under her breath, but she suspected he heard it, for his grin fractionally widened.

"Besides, in a world turned to hell, why not make fun of all that goes wrong? There's certainly no use dwelling on what we cannot change," Percy reminded her, and Annabeth was caught off guard by the philosophical change to his tone, and more so, by how much it made sense. She supposed he wasn't entirely wrong. Sometimes, though she would never admit it out loud, she forgot how smart Percy really was. He hid it behind jokes, highly inappropriate flirting, and cold, indifferent silence, but Malcolm's words were never too far from her. Percy was a military warrior, a hero, a strategist said to rival her own blood, her own house, despite his family having nothing to do with intelligence.

What he said made sense, really. "That's just being cynical," she said instead. She'd been shooting him down the past few days, and though she couldn't exactly pinpoint why that feeling came over her, she had a well enough hunch. She imagined she couldn't stand him just because he didn't seem to care. Annabeth couldn't fathom it. How could he let his entire life slip through his fingers so easily and here she was, supposedly the more intelligent of the two, and she was holding onto her old life with white knuckles? It was pathetic; she was pathetic. So she insulted him all day and night, she kept her distance, afraid that he could get too close and leave her stranded like everyone else. And he didn't flinch. Her words bounced off him like it was nothing, and that only infuriated her more.

"You know what your problem is?" he disrupted her train of thought.

"Excuse me?" she squeaked out, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at him.

"Your problem," he restated, pursing his lips.

"Well, I guess-"

"-no," he chuckled. "I'm going to tell you what your issue is. I have you all figured out, Miss Chase, whether you like it or not."

Oh.

He grinned at the uneasy look on her face, only making her scowl deeply. "You care too much about what others think," Percy stated, and Annabeth blinked in surprise. She would've said her pride was the biggest issue, in all honesty. She'd spent her time obsessing over this irrational need to hurt him, and in her effort to stay away, he'd solved her. She was dumbfounded.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," he shrugged. "You care too much about others and their opinions. And you say you don't, but you do, and it's so fucking obvious that it's kind of sad. You pretend to dislike my twisted jokes because the royals would frown upon you back in the castles for laughing at such dark humor, but secretly, you're just as tired of bullshit as I am, but you can't admit it, because pride- oh yeah, that's another thing with you isn't it?"

Her lips parted in bewilderment. He'd finally risen to her bait, and took a shot at her in return. But he had struck gold.

"You pretend that you care only for the Amazons because you want to fit in so badly with them, but in reality, you really do care for your brother and it tears you apart inside, but you won't admit it, because of course- pride."

Perhaps he was more insightful than she'd perceived him as well. Her throat felt really dry all of a sudden, like the Sahara desert.

"You pretend nothing hurts you because you don't want to be one of those damsels in distress, but you really carry a lot of emotional baggage. It hurts when nobody takes you seriously, it hurts when your brother picked me over you at that breakfast- don't think I forgot about that, it hurts that your parents will always pick Malcolm over you because he's a boy and he's older, and you're meant to be married off to another rich asshole not unlike myself."

He even called himself an asshole. Who did that?! What the fuck.

"It hurts that your father doesn't fucking love you enough, never enough, because Kings will always choose their kingdoms over their children, especially a daughter that talks out of turn, so to speak."

She swallowed hard as he nailed her like a butterfly in one of those cruel glass cases. Cages, more like.

"It hurts that Athena-"

"-Queen Athena," she corrected almost automatically, out of habit rather than choice, her voice devoid of emotion, and her face blank.

He shook his head at her, pitifully. It made her angrier than it should've. "She's not my Queen; she never was. And if you really love the Amazons as much as you claim, she isn't yours either." It was a tough pill to swallow, but it was true.

"It hurts that Athena," he continued, "never viewed you as anything more than a bargaining chip, and instead of spending your childhood training you to be like her- all you've ever wanted to be- she sold you to my mother for a political alliance. To an enemy for political alliance, because let's be honest, your mother hates my guts. But let's move on past your emotional baggage, shall we? Or we'll be here all day," he said it so casually, it struck another blow in itself.

"You pretend you hate me, hate my very soul, but in reality you actually are quite envious of me. I wouldn't be if I were you, but I'm not. You're envious because I have this power that you'll never quite have, not in this divided world, because I do as I please, speak as I want, especially now that I'm out of that royal, gilded cage. And you 'hate' me because you're expected to, because if anyone knew that you don't, they would castrate you. Because you care so deeply about others' opinions despite lying to yourself that you don't, since you're so keen on being your own person, your own woman, and it makes you weak. And because you care so much about what other people think, you've never really lived your own life, and you never will, and even with the Amazons, you care what they think. You pray they think you're valuable, because you know just as well as I do that if you're useless, you're dead, and because you're tired of being overlooked and underappreciated, you want to be accepted by them because you have nowhere else to go- you turned your back on family. You can't be yourself, ever, because you are so worried everyone will hate you, that you will never get anywhere, you live for others, and so you will be green-eyed with jealousy for me, for forever, Princess, I promise. Because I've never cared, and you hate me for it because I'm what you'll never become. And since I don't care, I'm myself, always and completely. That's your problem."

Annabeth felt like all the breath inside of her had been stolen by him, a heart thief, a soul criminal, and a knocker of wind. She hadn't known what she'd been expecting coming deep into these damp woods, but it had certainly not been a psychological evaluation by the ex-Prince, a boy she'd never given much credit, she was just now realizing. Unwanted emotions surged up in her, hitting her like a fucking tsunami of hurt, and fragility. And when she finally caught her breath-

"Why would you say that to me?" she breathed, her eyes feeling glossier than usual. She blinked and it was gone. She didn't feel so strong for once. "Why- how would you even know that? How do you know so much about me?" She realized her mistake only all too late; by asking him to explain his dead-accurate explanation of her essence, she had inadvertently confirmed that everything he had said was indeed, spot on, giving him this power over her, handing over her weaknesses so easily. She hated herself for it. She hated him for knowing her.

"Because it's true, isn't it?" he murmured, slashing some stubborn vines out of their path. The shade felt too cool on her back.

"Not everything true should be spoken aloud," she whispered, irrationally hurt by his honesty, though she knew it was silly. She insulted him endlessly and most of it was nonsensical. She preached honesty, and so she refused to cry over it. She could wear her heart on her sleeve just this once. It was not how she had been taught, but what was she to do if your opponent pried your heart out of your chest and deliberately sewed it on that sleeve? She highly doubted that was the sort of thing to be covered in her etiquette class with Madame Reme.

"Why not?" he inquired, but it didn't seem like he was talking to her, rather to himself. "It's the truth, is it not?"

Annabeth was quiet, and maybe he sympathized with her, but he decided to have mercy on her heart. "I told you because I don't know what we're going up against, what we will go up against in this journey to the Amazons, in a journey past it, and if we're still in this together-" he hesitated, as if he'd just realized that they might not be anymore, not after he called her out on her bullshit.

"We are," it was barely a whimper from her.

"Then," he continued, his voice gentle, and kinder than it had been before- his blunt tone. "I don't know what's to come, but I do know that we cannot afford weakness, not in this cruel world. You know what kindness and weakness gets you," he glanced at her pointedly, and she knew deep down that he was referring to his betrayal of his own blood, his very own brother. A sharp pang struck through her chest at the reminder of her naïveté. "And I thought you should know that you shouldn't give a shit what anybody says. That your little mask will kill you before any other weapon," Percy murmured, and for a moment, Annabeth could understand where he was coming from.

He didn't intend to hurt her feelings, but to spare her of future pain, rather. Somehow the knowledge that he wasn't purposefully trying to wound her settled her, calming her prior pain. It faded to a dull numbness, a more familiar feeling, a feeling she carried with her always and forever. One she suspected she always would, like him, like Percy carried his burdens like a true trooper.

"Okay," she exhaled.

"Okay?" he sounded almost nervous. He must have realized he had unintentionally hurt her more than he'd wanted to, even if only for a moment. For Annabeth had no doubt he'd tried to hurt her, hurt her for all she'd hurt him in the short time they'd been escaping together. However, she imagined her betrayal had hurt more than any of her words could.

"Okay," she said, and it felt like a promise when she met his eyes. His sea green eyes swirled with worry, but she just looked away. He was right; weakness was never an option and never would be. "Now," she changed the topics eagerly. "We've got some mythical ass to kick."

She wasn't sure if she'd imagined it, but somewhere on her right, she thought she heard a damn straight. It brought a smile to her face, despite herself. Those monsters were going to wish they had never been born at all.

Malcolm

There was something so fundamentally wrong about him standing there where the passed King Poseidon once stood, where Perseus was meant to take the royal oath instead. Instead stood a shorter, younger, lesser brother, one more vengeful than he let on, or so Malcolm expected. Annabeth was rash and stupidly brave, but that didn't make her a liar, nor an idiot. There was no way there wasn't some truth behind her warnings and claims of the soon to be boy King. But it wasn't like Malcolm could say anything. She'd picked her side, and he wasn't on it. And he'd done the same, don't think he'd ever play the role of the victim.

Luke's coronation was toned down in light of his father's passing and his brother's 'betrayal.' It was live streamed across the various nations, putting his kingship on full display, the public's first look at the man who would lead the people of Thasite.

"In brightest day,

There will be light,

To cleanse the soul,

And set wrongs right,

When Darkness falls,

Look to the ocean,

A new wave comes,

Let there be light."

It felt cold in the palace of Thasite. Malcolm pretended to listen as the high priest recited Thasite's scroll for a new King. Instead, he was watching as mouths moved across the sea of people huddled closely back in the palace, all murmuring 'let there be light' in echo to the high priest. Some of the eyes of the children were glazed over, as if they were brainwashed or something. Malcolm felt bile rise in his throat.

This had been happening to him a lot more, more with each day that Annabeth was gone, nothing but her hushed promises to haunt him. She had warned him that it was twisted, and ever since, all he saw was the horror in everything that played out in these royal halls.

Luke fell to one knee, his eyes closed, his chin tilted down to the ground in respect. His collar was decorated with diamonds, and as another priest carried away his older Prince crown, the high priest placed the new on atop his blond hair, swept artfully into his piercing blue eyes. The King's crown was bigger, taller, and sharper. It was studded with lavish white and blue diamonds and the skeleton of the crown was made of pure white gold. Expensive benitoite adorned the crisp peaks. It was all hard lines and intricate designs. The crown shifted on his head by its own accord, a bit too large for the young King's head. Surrounded by the glow of hundreds of candles and massive fountains, lighting up the throne room in a spectacular display of fire and Thasite's raging seas, the crown appeared like a white and blue crystal band,a halo, on the newfound King's golden bed of hair. Sunlight streamed through the towering glass windows, making the diamonds shimmer across the royal blue velvet carpet from the front of the throne room all the way to the back. The sunlight broke into different shards, and every time Luke moved his head, the light morphed across the room in different patterns.

And then he rose to his foot, his orbs the exact same shade as the blue diamonds on his head, and it felt like all the blood in Malcolm had froze, his nerves going numb down to the very bone. His mouth felt very dry, looking at this young boy who was suddenly a man with too much power, power that Malcolm would soon share, taking the place of King Frederick, and together they'd lead a new land, nations united by Queen Athena, and Malcolm knew with a certainty all of a sudden that whatever happened was out of his hands. It was beyond him.

Do not let the gentle trickle of a stream allow you even for a moment to underestimate the chaos that is the ocean, Annabeth's words ghosted him, and he pressed his lips tight together. It was beyond him, and he exhaled harshly once more.

It's beyond me. It was not his fault he couldn't control the entire world, and kingdoms would fall, and things would go wrong, and he would be a King, and Luke would rule his own country, and it was beyond him. He was way in over his head. Malcolm could not battle the rising anxiety threatening to explode from within him. This was how it was always meant to be, and King Poseidon had ruled for too long, and this was the change that was inevitable. And after himself, Nico would be the next to fall in with them.

On the other side of the great aisle of the impossibly large throne room, Malcolm glanced at Nico's small figure, sitting obediently on King Hades's left. And then he looked back at the crown on Luke's head, too heavy for one person, no matter how old. He pursed his lips. That crown might've been white like an angel, and blue like the prettiest of seas, but it was coated in blood, and it couldn't be too long before they all turned against each other. It was only a matter of time.

As Luke held his head high for the cameras and his people, Malcolm scrutinized him, his poise, his straight back, his warm smile with pointy teeth to his people, the crinkles around his eyes, the dark that lurked in his irises.

The crowd cheered for him, long live the King, long live Luke Castellan of House Calbourne, King of Thasite, God save the King. Luke passed by and the royals, including himself, rose to their feet, those of lower rank all dipping their head in respect. Malcolm needn't duck but he needn't stare either. However, he couldn't help but follow the King with his eyes, watching as he passed through like liquid, nations making way for the King of Thasite without another word. He didn't even need guards, not really. Luke didn't look like much, not like his Greek God of a brother. He was skinnier, paler, but there was this gleam that made the royals, the ones who knew the psycho tendencies that went behind closed doors in the monarchy, equally uneasy. The people didn't seem to notice, cheering loudly for their beloved ruler.

Music soared in the air and organs blasted and strings vibrated and choral sounds filled the empty space above their heads. And as he watched in a calculating silence, Malcolm remembered what former King Poseidon had once told him as he looked at the newly crowned royal.

The sea does not like to be restrained.

Drew

Look, Drew never wanted to marry Percy or anything. He was naive, in her opinion, and though that would make it easy for her to manipulate him, that wasn't the real reason she was angry. With Percy, her mother had gone through heaven and hell to negotiate for her to become the Queen of a land. And now even that wasn't guaranteed. She had spent her entire life building up the moment she married some Crown Prince, adopted the title of Crown Princess, and later, Queen.

Nothing was guaranteed. She certainly didn't want to marry Luke, but besides her own feelings, she didn't even know if she'd get to. Luke was doing everything unorthodox. He hadn't even talked about getting married publically! He would have to get married, and soon, but something made Drew think that she wasn't the one he wanted. Mainly because of Annabeth, that wretched girl, swooping in and stealing her crown without even knowing it.

Drew was a master at picking apart people's minds, it was just in her blood, but with Luke, it was a little harder. He was complicated, cunning, quiet, and a damn good liar. Just like his mother. Drew had her suspicions about his attitude towards Annabeth. The newfound King didn't like to lose. It wasn't a matter of love, Drew sneered. It was more than that, stronger than that. The obsession of a Boy King. And he wanted what he couldn't have, like all stupid boys did. Hardly fit to be a King. And he would have her, no doubt, as a Queen or as a servant. Annabeth would be his; it was only a matter of time. But where did that leave her? Played, that's where. And Drew was no fool.

She stormed down the hallway, a force not to be reckoned with, her dress trailing behind her, gliding smoothly across the stone. Silently, she made her way to the dining room. Dinner was ready, and she was ready to feast on some unsuspecting victims, drag information out without their knowledge, and get the throne she'd always deserved.

"Lady Tanaka, I was going to call for someone to check on you. Your absence was worrisome," said Malcolm at one head of the table. She narrowed her eyes at the Crown Prince, a muscle in her cheek twitching. He was not so good at hiding his feelings, that one. She could read him like an open book. He didn't like her too much, she knew as much. In all fairness, she wasn't his biggest fan either. Still, she concealed her feelings, playing dumb and nice.

Her painted lips curved up in a sickeningly sweet smile. "I apologize for my tardiness, sir. It was not my intention to plague any of you," she dipped her head elegantly. A nearby servant pulled out her seat for her, and without paying him a second glance, she swept her emerald green skirt out of the way and cleanly slid onto the satin cushion.

"You look lovely, Princess," Luke said out of the blue, catching her off guard. She schooled her expression, feigning flattery, a ditzy young woman. Luke didn't do anything just for the sake of it, she knew. He had called her Princess, not Crown Princess, implying that she would not be his Queen. Internally, she seethed.

"Thank you, sir. You are all too kind, really," she accepted graciously. Picking up her salad fork, she stabbed some greens with the tips, imagining that it was Luke instead.

"I heard about your sister, Lady McLean, ma'am. I'm sorry to hear that she ran," Malcolm piped up, peering at her over his spoon. "She must have been terrified from all the Amazons' activity."

Piper. That bitch. Drew blinked, gritting her teeth quietly. And Malcolm, everyone in this room knew that she'd joined the Amazons with that stupid guard, the one who had constantly hovered over the blonde bitch. The three of them were turning over their souls to those filthy peasants. And Perseus, who even knew what he was doing? He was in love with Annabeth, the fool. Drew could see it clear as day. The blonde only had eyes for power; that was the only thing Drew had in common with her. He was setting himself up for heartbreak and throwing away his family's name had given him by going along with her and her foolish friends, thinking they could change the world for what? For equality? Nothing in this world was equal. Kill one, another suffers. They were children, really, biting the hand that fed them. And they, too, would burn in the end.

"Naturally," agreed Drew instead. Malcolm seemed doubtful, but he didn't say much else. "Your hand, Prince, whatever happened?" her face crumpled like the perfect doll. Nico was suffering, and it made him weak that he wore it on his sleeve next to his heart. And to think, Hades wanted to make him King. Drew smothered a smile. They would all burn.

"Accident." Nico didn't meet her eyes, picking at his food instead. He chewed slowly, mournfully.

"Once again, sir, please accept my deepest condolences for your loss, Prince," she offered.

"Thank you. That's very kind of you to say," he barely whispered when he spoke.

"The funeral will take place tomorrow, will it not?" she pressed.

"Yes."

"I will be sure to bring flowers, then. What were her favorite?" Drew inquired.

Nico hesitated, and this time, Malcolm cut in before he could say anything. "Carnations," the older Ashington brother mumbled, his eyes screwed shut.

"She always had excellent taste," Drew nodded. Nico flinched. It was silent for a while, and they all ate in peace, the only noise being the voices in their heads, eternally haunting them.

"Princess," a voice cut through the silence like a knife. She looked up, her mouth twisting into a frown when she recognized the royal guard— one of her father's personal bodyguards.

"May I help you?" she queried, her tone light. She was acutely aware of three pairs of eyes on her.

"King Tristan and Queen Aphrodite wish to speak with you at once. And your sister."

"My sister?" Drew could not hide her surprise. This, she hadn't been informed about. "Piper?"

"No, my Lady. Lady Beauregard."

"Oh." She scowled. Her elder sister, the married one, the one who now ruled the land their father had once ruled with their mother. Silena Beauregard of House Raya, Queen of Sumisu and Charles Beckendorf of House Haersley, King of Sumisu, former Duke of Baca. She had been the oldest, and so she had gotten the land of their childhood. Drew had spent her entire life trying to catch up to her, but try as she might, Silena had stolen the spot of her parents' and the country's favorite.

"I was under the impression that Silena, sir. Last I spoke to her, she was studying in Paris and London, the fashion capitals of the world."

"She was, madame. But she has returned for Lady di Angelo's funeral, and King Charles, too, has made a trip back from Asia where he was negotiating to pay his respects."

"Oh. My mistake, then," Drew murmured, her scowl deepening. "By any means, sir, do you have the slightest clue to which my father wishes to discuss with me?"

"No, ma'am. He simply instructed me to summon you, claiming it was urgent, and to collect you with haste." He tapped his foot against the stone impatiently.

"Please excuse me and accept my candid apology for bailing on this lovely dinner," she conceded, meeting Malcolm's and Nico's gazes. And then finally, Luke's. He didn't blink, carefully trained on her like a hawk. She quickly looked away.

"It's quite alright, miss. I hope everything turns out to be okay," Malcolm bid her goodbye like a gentleman. The royal guard pulled out her chair and took her hand as she rose gracefully to her feet. And with that, he ushered her out of the room and to her eager family.

Annabeth

"Why is it-" Annabeth let out a muffled shriek in surprise as Percy slipped his hand over her mouth, effectively cutting off her train of thought. She pried his hand off, feigning disgust. "Your hand smells metallic, like blood." She wrinkled her nose. In all fairness, they were both a bit scraped up, and ever since Percy's big injury from the hydra, the metallic scent had never really left him. He was healing, but slowly.

"Shut up," he hissed so seriously that Annabeth decided to maybe actually listen for once. His sea green eyes scoured their surroundings suspiciously. "Do you hear that?" he whispered after a beat of silence.

Annabeth restrained from rolling her eyes. "No." She shot him a weird look, which he swiftly ignored. Besides Malcolm, she'd never met someone who tolerated her attitude so well. It was unsettling that she couldn't get under his skin, yet he could infiltrate her mind so easily.

"Is that- pipe music?" Percy murmured, furrowing his dark eyebrows in confusion. Choosing to entertain his hallucinations, she stilled for a moment, straining her ears to hear what he heard. Sure enough, there it was: a soft wood song haphazardly screeching throughout the forest. Suddenly, Annabeth was very grateful that it was quiet. To put it mildly, it was horrendous. She cringed at the ill timed squeaks and out of tune 'melody.' She glanced at Percy and they shared a look of utter and absolute puzzlement.

C'mon, she mouthed, and when his expression morphed into that of panic (he knew Annabeth's tendency of rashly running straight into danger), she grinned wide. Unsheathing her dagger in one smooth stroke, she darted towards the noise. As she got closer to the source, she became increasingly disoriented and dizzy.

"Tell them to shut the fuck up," she whisper-yelled at Percy, plugging her ears with a look of distaste on her face. He rolled his eyes, reading her lips seeing as his ears were plugged as well. He slowly crept into the fire-lit cave, the shadows from the monster inside dancing on the walls. Annabeth could only assume this was the feared man Sally had spoke of. She felt weirdly nervous, like this was oddly eventful. Of course it was eventful. She could die. And so could he. Annabeth followed him into the light.

"Drop the reed pipe or I throw," Percy demanded, holding his sword out menacingly.

The wooden instrument cluttered to the ground in surprise. Annabeth wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but certainly not this. She stared. Percy stared. The guy stared. Needless to say, it was very awkward. The guy was completely normal looking, unlike the images of monsters her over imaginative mind had conjured up. He was about half an inch shorter than herself with warm brown eyes, curly chocolate hair, and a wispy beard. He was dressed in a long jacket and slacks, and a small top hat laid on top of his head. His eyes were wide in surprise and thinly veiled fear. If Annabeth had to guess, he looked like he was about sixteen, but something about him made her feel like he was much older than he looked. He just had that… aura of living a long time, seeing a lot of things.

"What the hell?"

Percy looked at her in surprise and then Annabeth felt embarrassed, surprisingly herself as well at the involuntary slip.

"Who are you?" Annabeth demanded before her courage died to a dull fire in the pit of her stomach. "And why are you-" she gestured wildly his pan flute on the ground and his sitting position.

The guy blinked at her. "I could ask you the same thing." He had a pleasant voice, albeit kind of nervous and shaky. Naturally. Percy had a sword extended still, the idiot. As if Percy could read Annabeth's mind, he glanced at the sharp blade in his own had, and reluctantly dropped it to his side, though slowly.

"She said they were all afraid of you. That you knew everything there is to know about Greek myths, and life in general. That they fear you down to their very bones!" Annabeth's silver orbs flashed angrily; she felt tricked.

"Well, some of that is true," the guy admitted. "They fear my bad pipe music," he said cheerfully, scooping up the flute, and seemingly more at ease now that Percy wasn't outright threatening him. Annabeth rubbed her temples in irritation as she felt a building headache growing. He was supposed to be bad and now… he couldn't just be harmless. There had to be something he could do, some reason they had trekked all the way here.

"I would too," Percy murmured confusedly, and the guy beamed up at him.

"Please sit, both of you," he gestured to the rocks across from the fire from him. Annabeth looked at Percy and he looked back at her. For once, he seemed at a loss for words and instead stared at her dumbly. She had no doubt that she didn't look much better. Warily, the blonde seated herself from across the guy. She waved her hand in front of her face, feeling perspiration beginning to build. It was really freaking hot in here.

The guy glanced at her, and she quickly clasped her hands together to hide her uncomfort from the heat. "I'm sorry it's hot in here. I was just enjoying a sauna earlier, madame."

Annabeth blinked. So hell was just a sauna. Wonderful.

"Can I get you a drink, sir?" he glanced up at Percy.

"Thank you," Percy nodded and took a seat next to Annabeth. He leaned his sword across the rocks.

"And you, miss?" he offered her. The ex-Princess just offered a weak smile in return and took the cool glass from his hand. She peered into the liquid curiously. It was a deep blue with red swirls and there was a slice of a strange fruit on the edge of the glass. The drink smelled like lime and something else that Annabeth couldn't quite decipher, but very pleasant nonetheless. Maybe wisteria flowers? Percy blinked up at the stranger in front of them suspiciously, and Annabeth couldn't say she didn't blame him. She, too, was hesitant to down a stranger's drink, especially one that looked so odd and that she certainly did not recognize. Most royals just drank champagne with expensive extractions infused in for flavor out of crystal goblets, and the common person drank whiskey or water, though more commonly referred to as Adam's ale.

"Oh, don't be hesitant. It's just nectar," the man waved his hand, dismissing their perplexed expressions. Percy glanced at his glass once more before cautiously sipping at it. Annabeth watched him with wide eyes, astounded by his bravery (or foolishness, depending on how one looked at it). She raised an eyebrow at him, posing a silent question. He nodded slowly, affirming that it tasted fine. But the stunned expression on his face only made her more wary.

She sipped a tiny bit. Annabeth was met with the comforting taste of buttery goodness and it was hot like popcorn would be. She inspected the glass more carefully now. It tasted like the popcorn her father had made for them to split once or twice while reading history books together in a comfortable silence back in the library. This was before, of course, he'd decided she wasn't shaping up to be a proper lady of course. The taste was comforting, and jolting all at the same time.

"How-" Annabeth paused, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at the boy across from them. "Who are you?" she demanded. How dare he bring up memories of her past, good memories that haunted her.

"That's just the way nectar is," he assured her. Percy, on her left, seemed equally lost in the flavors of his home as well. "And I'm Grover Underwood, Your Highness." He smiled crookedly, and Annabeth practically felt her blood pressure rise.

"How do you know who I am?" she whispered, horrified. Percy's knuckles were white around the glass' stem.

"I know a lot," said Grover easily. From anyone else it would've been a cocky statement, one that would've made Annabeth angry at their arrogance, but something about his hyper demeanor and twitching fingers made her believe that he wasn't trying to impress anyone, simply spitting facts. For once, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Then you know why we're here," Percy interrupted.

He grinned. "You," he looked at Annabeth, and she felt like he could see through her. She squirmed on the rock, and not just because it was uncomfortable to sit on such a hard surface. "You're here because you knew something was wrong with the monsters. And you couldn't let it go," Grover tilted his head at her, and giggled a little. The blonde girl blinked. "And you," Grover pointed to Percy. "You're here because she wants to be here," he gestured to Annabeth. Somehow, she knew he knew their inner demons just by looking at them. She was grateful that he didn't spill it before each other.

"Yes, sir," she agreed, hoping to hinder him from saying anymore about her to Percy. "So you do know about the monsters." She was pleased and couldn't fight the miniscule grin spreading across her lips. Sally had been right, and more importantly, she would finally get the answers she so badly sought.

Percy set down his empty nectar cup on the ground. Annabeth hadn't even touched hers after the first sip, plagued by the few good memories of her father.

"Yes," Grover cheerfully affirmed. He tapped the side of his glass with his pointer finger. "I've been around for a long time, miss," he told her, confirming Annabeth's hypothesis that he was older than he looked, perhaps even to a divine level. "You should stay away from those monsters," his expression morphed into one more somber. It was sobering.

"But why do they exist? They're mythological, it's completely ridiculous. How can things of fairy tales be real? Does this mean the Greek Gods are real too? That, oh for God's sake, my mother will turn out to be the real Athena? They can't be real; it's impossible!" Annabeth ranted, her mouth turned down.

Grover stared at the bottom of his empty glass like it held all the answers to the universe. He poured himself another glass. He held up his glass to Percy, but the Prince simply shook his head no, politely declining.

"Can't be very impossible if you've fought them," Grover pointed out. Annabeth's eye twitched she swore she saw Percy crack a smile in the corner. Dickhead.

"But sir!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "Why do they exist?" she rephrased, containing her impatience as best as she could.

Grover shrugged. "I don't know," he stammered awkwardly. She'd found everything he did was kind of awkward, forced. Given that he lived alone in the fucking woods, Annabeth excused his inadequate social interaction skills. "All I know is that people haven't seen them in a long time." He anxiously looked around. "And because I had seen them, I came here. A refuge with wonderful hot springs," he added, ecstatic about his home.

"Why would you flee? Why didn't you tell people?" Annabeth pressed.

"Are you out of your mind?" he bleated, his eyes wide. Annabeth parted her lips, caught off guard. She heard a coughed yes from Percy. "They'd kill me!" He looked at her in horror, as if she was already a dead ghost. "Please don't tell me you told people."

"Um…" Annabeth bit her bottom lip, glancing at Percy.

"We only told my mother and her husband," Percy assured Grover.

Grover's right eye involuntarily twitched. "You better hope they don't spill secrets," he fretted.

"What'll happen if people find out?" Annabeth asked before she could stop herself. She wasn't so sure if she wanted to know the answer anymore. Like she'd told Percy: just because something was true didn't mean it had to be said. Sometimes it was worse to hear it out loud, to make it feel so real.

He hesitated, and even Percy leaned in then. "You know about Juniper?" Both royals nodded. "She was killed for being independent, sure-" his voice cracked in a way that made Annabeth suspect he'd known Juniper a lot more than he was letting on so far. "But she had a friend, though not as many know her name. She died young too." Annabeth felt like she had something stuck in her throat. "Daphne, I remember her well. It was said that she could see the future, and now… now we'll never know." Grover shrugged, and Annabeth thought he might've been tearing up. "She saw the monsters," he gasped. "She saw them like I do, like both of you, and in fear, that poor girl, she told people. Nobody believed her. And they locked her up for it. I miss Juniper," he blubbered, full on sobbing now.

Percy reached forward, engulfing him in a hug. It was such a Percy thing to do that Annabeth couldn't help but admire him as he comforted the other young man.

"They locked her up," Annabeth began thoughtfully. "You're not talking about-" she cut herself off with the horrifying realization.

"The White Hospital," Grover choked.

Annabeth went pale and when she looked at Percy, he was the exact same. The White Hospital was an old, now boarded up, abandoned building, that had once been a mental institute hundreds of years ago. A time before her, and her parents, and her grandparents, and more. They locked up so many and there were no documents to figure out who they locked up and why and what all the 'patients' had in common. And now she knew. They saw the monsters, and they'd been tortured for it. The 'hospital' might've been locked up now, but that didn't assure her. It was just a place. But no doubt there were still people who believed those who saw monsters were crazy, inhuman, and deserved to be tested on.

"So why can I see them, then?" Annabeth queried after a terrible silence. "Why us of all people? What's so special, or rather, tragic about us that gives up this ability?" Percy had poured Grover some tea in the meantime. Grover miserably sipped on it, his nose red and his eyes watery.

"Some say we're the Gods' chosen," he murmured. "I think it's the opposite. I think we're cursed."

Annabeth's forehead wrinkled in worry. "But the Gods aren't real," she faltered. If monsters were real then who was to say the Greek Gods weren't?

"No," Grover revealed. "But there is most definitely some divine intervention involved here. There's now way all this has happened without someone picking and choosing who gets the Sight."

"Who do you suspect?" she breathed, leaning forward to catch his every word.

"It could be the Fates. Maybe it's Gaia. Nobody really knows, not even me." He shrugged helplessly and Annabeth couldn't fight the disappointment welling inside her. "There's this one theory that Titans used to exist and those who have the Sight now somehow got a drop of their blood in them somewhere. People say it's from the royal bloodline, but I'm not a royal, and I have the Sight as well. Nothing's really known for sure."

"So what do you suggest?" Annabeth ventured.

Grover looked at her seriously for once, and this time, there was no fear in his eyes. "If you have to fight the monsters, you can win. Study the myths. You're a smart girl, born and bred from the cream of the crop. Go join the Amazons or whatever else you want to do. Ignore the divine intervention. Nobody knows how this came to be; it's just a phenomenon I've learned to accept it, and if you're as smart as I hope you are, you'll learn to accept it, and quickly, too."

"That's it?" Percy piped up for the first time in a while. He frowned.

"And one more thing. I don't care what other people say, I don't care how many fangs those monsters have, or how much venom they carry. The truth is the evil in men and women is baked-in and eternal. Forget that the capacity for evil lurks in all of us and life will find a way to remind you. This reminder can be found daily in front of very noses, but only for those with eyes to see it."

Annabeth swallowed hard and she stood up, trying to stop him before he could say anymore. Truthfully, he was scaring her a little. She knew humans weren't always honest and good, and that nobody was inherently good, and that some people were downright cruel and twisted, but to hear it out loud took something from her. Percy, however, would not get up. She reached down to pull him up. She didn't need to- no- she didn't want to hear this.

"Annabeth," Grover warned, and his chilling voice sent shivers down her spine. "Don't forget the real monsters are the ones inside our head."

A/N: Once again, I'm really sorry. I don't mean to drop the ball like this, it just happens, and then it's really anxiety-inducing to see how much I have on my plate. I kinda rushed through this chapter to get it out by this weekend, therefore it's a little sloppy, but I hope it was okay anyways. Until next time~

Fangirl xx

Vanilla: You PMed me? Ok, I think I know what happened (because I didn't get the PM). Did you use the app to PM me? I was talking to a couple FF friends of mine, actually, and as much as I love the app, the PM feature on it sucks ass. I'm totally not getting notifs for it anymore, it's just- *suppresses angry rant.* Try sending it again on the regular website, maybe? I'm so sorry about this.

Yes, the conservative thing is probably a huge reason why I added Solangelo (besides the fact that I absolutely adore them.) They're both smol, young, cinnamon rolls and must be protected at all costs. (So you obviously know I'm not going to XD) I can't wait for their relationship to grow. :) Sally Jackson is the mom I always wanted haha; she's a gem. Ah, agree to disagree. I'm glad you like Percabeth, but I'll always like Solangelo more XP

Honestly, idk if it's Jasper or Jiper either. I think I've always just seen Jason as a more serious guy. I think the fandom makes him more goofy than anything else (same for Percy, even though, sure, they do make jokes in the books). Piper expresses Jason as being less spontaneous than Percy, and she also states how she's a little jealous of Percabeth because of this. Maybe I just interpret Jason differently than you, but I've always seen him as a bit more stoic. It doesn't help that he's a former royal guard in this FF, only hardening him more. Welp. I loveeee angst (more than fluff :P), so Malcolm and Nico might be a bit angsty for a while XP

Eek, yep, I meant "hordes of girls." I went back and edited it after reading your review, so thanks for pointing it out! I don't usually edit my chapters anymore, just because they're so long, and I absolutely loathe it. (It's bad, ik :P) So when my chapters are all just written in one sitting and then posted after some time, it tends to have errors. My bad!

JustAFan: Welp, ig I let you down on that too; didn't update this time :P :/ Sorry my dude. Right, so. I don't think I'll make the Greek gods real just because they're a lot of the main characters' parents, so that would not make any sense, but there are definitely some aspects of Greek mythology that are real. Like monsters. Hopefully Grover gave a decent explanation as to how/why this is all happening. Yes, I'm glad you caught the Hamilton reference! A lot of the time, my readers are also invested in other fandoms that I enjoy as well, so I like to drop a couple references from different fandoms once in a while. :)

Reader: Well, your analyzation is certainly welcome here! I don't know if you do this for the stories you review as well, but from a fellow author, I can promise that we live for it haha. Yesss, Sally's a tough woman. Actually, I've never considered writing her POV. I've always found it difficult to write from the POV of adults, I'm not sure why (probably because I'm the furthest thing from an adult :P). But now that you pointed it out, it does sound rather tempting… hmm. I MAKE NO PROMISES, BUT, I might try to write a flashback Sally POV from when she ran in a future chapter if it doesn't sound ridiculously stupid after writing it out.

XD I've never thought of my stories as particularly funny, but if I do insert any humor, it's usually a bit subtle, or so I've always thought. So I'm really relieved you thought it was funny. I've always hated it when FFs have cringy, forced humor, and I try my hardest to stray from that. Maybe that's why I'm so wary of inserting humor, idk :P I've never heard that analogy before either: I have curly hair, and I remember I once came up with a couple years back, thought it was hilarious, and jotted down a note to use it in the future. And here it is lol.

Yesss Solangelo is amazing. When I was growing up, I always wished a had a brother. I guess I kinda based Malcolm off how I always imagined having a brother would be like. I'm relieved he's not too unrealistic to all of y'all, considering I don't truly know what having a brother is like. XD Your commentary on Annabeth made me laugh; yep, that's just my not-so-subtle foreshadowing that the monsters are important. I've always felt like the phrase, 'curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back' seriously applied to Annabeth, so ig this is just me implementing that in her character.

Wow, I'm glad it was a favorite! I've never tried rating my chapters, so it's interesting that you think so. Ah yes, Annie and Perce certainly match each other's wit. That's probably my favorite part about their dynamic. Sorry for updating late this time, and yes, I enjoyed your analysis! XD

Chocolate: Percabeth angst is my fav haha. I've always thought of Percy as a bit of more flirty, at least as a Prince. Like that one Prince who says things he really shouldn't, and makes all the towns girls faint? XP I love Sally and Percy's relationship, so I don't think I could handle Percy really hating her forever. Besides, that would OOC. He's a mama's boy deep down lol. We will definitely have a Jason and Annabeth reunion, are you kidding me? They're best friendsssss haha. I will try to add more to Jason, though, thank you for the constructive criticism. I agree I'm neglecting him and others as well (like Piper) just because I'm so focused on Percabeth. My apologies :) And yes, there will most likely be Jiper/Jasper in the future.

Yes, I love questions! To answer it, yes I will! I haven't gotten into much with Luke yet, but the betrothals, what happens with the remaining royals who choose to stand by his side, all of that will definitely be addressed, and soon, considering he had just had his coronation, and is now King.

Yes, I love Solangelo! And I was already planning on some flashbacks, so that's not a problem haha. Yep, I addressed the "dude in the woods" XD in this chapter. For your last question, I can't respond entirely because spoilers, duh lol. But I can promise that there will be no Kronos, though there will definitely more villains coming, and that Luke is not our only antagonist. For the redemption thing, ig that depends on what you see as redemption, and that you'll just have to wait and see ;)

For the Leo thing, I really want to include him, as you're not my first reader to address him, but I haven't figured out if there's any way to fit him in yet, so unfortunately, I can't make any promises!

I'm glad you caught the Hamilton reference! I love dropping a few references to other fandoms once in a while, because I'm sure many of my readers enjoy other fandoms I also like. Ah, yes, the Percy Jackson High School AUs™ XD Don't forget Coffee Shop AUs™, Sports AUs™, Famous Pop Band AUs™, etc. Though I'm making fun of them for being cliché, I must admit, I'm a bit guilty of reading a few of them, and even using some of the tropes in my own writing *cough* my other stories *cough*.

Thank you for giving this story a chance! I know Royal AUs aren't incredibly popular or anything, but I've always adored the concept, and decided to write it even though I knew it wouldn't gain much traction. One of my favorite authors, Average Canadian, writes all v original stories, not the common tropes, and by being persistent (and an incredible author, much better than myself), manages to get love from readers anyways.

Though reviews/follows/favorites aren't everything, and though I do write mainly for my own entertainment and practice (like 90 percent for myself), giving my story a chance even if it's a bit unorthodox in your usual reading list, means the world to me :)

smol-bean-solangelo-shipper: Just based off your username, I can tell that we'll get along just fine. I loveeee Will and Nico, both separately and together. So for you to tell me you enjoyed my style of writing and my portrayal of Nico means the world to me. He's such a complex lil baby, and I really don't want to fuck it up. I feel obligated to apologize for almost making you cry, because I totally get that as a fellow hardcore reading fan XP, but in a way, it's flattering that I managed to evoke such emotions from an utter stranger. This story isn't about me, it's about my characters and how they'll change you guys are your perspectives, but let's just sat Nico's scene was a bit easier to write than it should've been, if you catch my drift :) Lots of people go through similar feelings and though I know rationally not everyone who goes through it feels it the same way, it's still reassuring that you found it relatively realistic. XD Octavian hasn't even done anything, but that's funny. Medusa is definitely a bit of a bitch in this story, but I'm hoping you'll remain open to all those characters. Nobody is inherently good or evil in my stories- it's just not how I operate in order to remain more realistic, so who knows? Maybe all the characters you listed have more to them than you think? Regardless, thank you for the thoughtful review, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter~