Thank you to all the awesome reviews! They made my week :)

Sorry it took me so long to update, its just ugh, school :/

So anyway, here's the next chapter! Please enjoy!

Percy lead the Princess through the top floor, or, rather, where he was allowed to be in the top floor, as even he was prohibited to listen to the boring and meaningless affairs of the king and his noblemen.

"It's quiet up here," Annabeth said, her voice low, sensing the unseen rule that raised voices of any kind were practically banned on pain of death. "Oddly quiet."

"The walls are soundproof," Percy said. "There are many good things to say about my father, and admittedly, some to say about my mother, but it has never been said that they are not paranoid."

"Paranoid," Annabeth asked. "Or cautious?"

"Oh, definitely paranoid," Percy said. "Servants are prohibited to come up here unless supervised, the supervisors have to have sworn utter allegiance to Esther. To swear allegiance you have to have been a major part of the castle for over ten years."

"Definitely paranoid," Annabeth nodded.

They moved through the floor to the fourth one, walking down the narrow staircase, to the hustle and bustle of a very popular floor.

"People are going to see," Percy muttered.

"People are going to talk," Annabeth agreed. Percy reddened somewhat. He was not aware that the princess had heard him speak.

Percy sighed. He did not want this. He had never wanted this. Not the attention he attracted, nor the attraction he held for those aiming to up themselves into a position of power.

He ran his hand through his hair and spoke, "What would you like to do, Princess?"

Annabeth took no time to mull over her answer. "I would like to see the fourth floor."

She said it firmly, yet not like a brat. She had a determined glint in her eyes, strength, strength of her character of her mind, was fully visable to Percy at that moment. He realised that she was like him, in the way that she would not change, would never change, not for anyone.

And she had decided to walk down the hallway. And so Percy, adrenaline pumping, breath shortening, stepped out into the light, Annabeth a step behind him.

He could have sworn that for a moment, there was a sense of surreal silence. It wasn't a silence the be embarrassed about, it wasn't one to run away from or wish to have never happened, no, this was the silence of rebellion, the noiseless universe of refusal.

But around them people still talked, they talked, as they had done before, about small things happening around the castle. About the Stable-boy that ran away with the Milkmaid. About the manservant that kissed Lady Lacy Moore during the previous nights celebrations. About scandals and romance. Nothing about things that could hold Percy's attention for more than a few seconds, nothing of actual importance.

"Their heads are so full of air," Annabeth muttered to him. "How do they manage to even talk at all?"

"There are mystery's, Princess," Percy said, grinning. "And then there is that mystery."

And Annabeth smiled; a large, true smile of one forcing back laughter.

They made it to the other end of the corridor before the majority of those too interested in themselves noticed, but by then one had seen, and she told another, who told another, who spread the rumour quickly and efficiently.

Poseidon had told his son that to truly get news, one must listen to the bored gossip of the Lady's and Lords. Although, of course, he made sure to remind his son to never take anything they said at face value.

"Believe as little as you can, my boy. Believe only what you have touched, what you have smelt. Believe not what others have told you, for if they can persuade you an untruth is a fact, you could lose your kingdom, your wife, your crown."

Percy always felt that this was a dreadfully unhappy and suspicious way to live. Not to mention, even as the nine year old boy he had been at the time, he had seen how hypocritical the statement had been. His father had advisors, associates, consultants and many other important people who instructed him of the happenings of the Kingdom on a daily basis.

Trust was important, Percy understood. Trust meant that you had someone to fall back on. Trust meant something more than security. Yes. Trust was important.

"What are you thinking about?" Annabeth asked, snapping her fingers in front of Percy's face. "Are you ill?"

Percy blinked, stunned, although unsurprised, at how easily his thoughts had run away from him. "No, no, Princess. I am fine."

"You did not answer my question," Annabeth said.

"Didn't I?" Percy asked vaguely, inwardly hurrying, trying to find if he knew of the question at all. They were heading down another corridor now, this time a corridor with no doors to speak of, just vases and portraits, rugs and statues.

"No," Annabeth's lips quirked. "Must I remind you of this question, or will you win your attempt to remember it?"

Percy grinned. "Oh, please. My brain is frazzled, you see. I had to play this fiddle last evening, for an ungrateful Princess with a turned up nose."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "I asked, as a matter of fact, two things. Firstly, I asked what this corridor was used for, a question I repeated, and then secondly, what you were thinking about."

"Well I can help you in one instance," Percy said. "These corridors are used to enlarge our egos, impress out friends and scare our enemies. Simply a wasted corridor, filled with useless trinkets, copied artwork and cheap statues."

"I could assume, then, that you dislike the corridor?" Annabeth asked innocently.

Percy raised his eyebrows. "You would assume correctly, Princess."

"And my second question?" Annabeth egged. "Surely you can answer that."

Percy shook his head. Already he could not remember what his reverie had been about. The thoughts had slipped out of his ears, eyes, nose and mouth as invisible smoke. "I cannot help you there. My mind is often thinking of nothing and everything, all at once. It is hard, is it not, to follow a single train of thought?"

Annabeth looked confused. "I cannot say that, Percy. My mind is occupied with many things, but all are looked over equally. Never a mess, as you have, never anything less than orderly, precise."

"Your mother is Athena, though."

"And your point?"

"The Smartest Ruler? The Queen of the Golden Mind? Surely you have hear these titles for her."

"I am still unseeing to as why this is relevant."

Percy grinned and shrugged. "If I was to be honest, which is a rarity in itself, I would say the same thing.

Annabeth turned back into herself and followed the intricacies on the wall. Through the windows the sun was setting, and the amber light shot through the windows and onto the faces of the young prince and princess. The corridor ended, as all good things must do, and they began to make a round-a-bout trip to the kitchens, where Percy and Annabeth both desired the cooking of Maureen, namely that of the Golden pastry that was but a memory on their tongues.

They took the back ways, the ways only servants and people avoiding communications with people in the castle ever took. To be discovered back there was a curious occurrence, but it was rarely that anyone was.

"Night will be falling soon," Percy said drearly. "And then it will be dinnertime, and I will have to speak to my mother."

"Will your father not be there as well?" Annabeth inquired.

"Oh, yes," it seemed to Annabeth that at this Percy perked up. "I much desire to speak with him. What with my swords master leaving to Romert."

"Would I have heard of him?" Annabeth inquired. They were walking down stoned steps now, echoes from their feet bouncing along the walls.

"Perhaps. He's Quintus. He's a good teacher. He taught my younger brother as well."

"You have a younger brother?" Annabeth asked, shocked. "Has no one heard of this?"

Percy shook his head. "He's a secret until his sixth birthday. He'd four at the moment. Utterly blind in one eye. Tyson, that's his name. He's likely to be in the kitchens, as a matter of fact."

Annabeth frowned, forgetting most of what he had said. "You teach a four year old to sword fight?"

Percy grinned and shrugged. "He's better with a club, actually."

Annabenth just shook her head. "In Skyla we do things properly. Handed a knife at seven and a sword at ten. Taught by Chiron, one of the greats. Surely you've heard of him."

Percy looked impressed. "Chiron? Oh yes, I've definitely heard of him. He taught you well, did he?"

Annabeth smiled. "They do not call me the Terror for nothing."

"Well, it may be that it is highly likely that they do."

"Is everything a jest to you?"

"Of course. What else would I have to entertain myself with if I didn't have that?"

Annabeth rose an eyebrow. "So you mean, in an indirect way of course, to state that your head is full of triangles and your heart full of cats and dogs."

"A very odd way to put it, but I suppose so."

"No wonder it is said that all from Esther are mad."

Percy grinned. "So they call us mad, eh? Who exactly, may I ask? The old women riddled with disease? The drunken men who loiter in taverns?"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "The serving staff, as a matter of fact."

"I fail to see where you did not concur with my statement."

"You are utterly impossible."

"You are utterly sounding like my mother."

"Is that the best insult in your arsenal?"

"Well, obviously."

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

They arrived at a large wooden door, warm and inviting, intoxicating aromas squeezing out of the cracks and leeching through the corridor.

"I suppose I need but one guess to deem where we are," Annabeth said, grinning. "We are finally at the place I had only agreed to go on this ridiculous venture to arrive at."

"And here I was, assuming it was my good looks and devious charm."

Annabeth just smiled, and, without allowing it to appear on her face just how attracted she had become to the laughing young prince, pushed the door open.

The kitchen was a hive of frantic activities. The queen bee was obvious, a red faced, kind-eyed woman answering questions, standing behind a huge pot of boiling soup. Around her men and women chopped and roasted, sweated and talked. The place simply oozed energy. Annabeth could feel her excitement mounting even after that first moment in the room.

Maureen looked up when they entered. Her face split into a wide grin when she saw Percy. She waved them over.

"Percy! M'boy! How good 'tis to see ya! Taters and roast pork tonight, just as ye like it!"

"You offend me, Maureen," Percy responded. "Anything you cook is my favourite."

Maureen chuckled, and then nodded at Annabeth. "Aren't ya gonna introduce me to this lass? A pretty face, is it not?"

Annabeth grinned. "I'm Annabeth, M'lady. Princess of the Skyla Kingdom."

"Future Queen of Esther, eh?" Maureen asked, eyes sparkling mischeviously.

Percy coughed, Annabeth felt her face inflame. Was it possible that she had nearly forgotten?

"Maureen, by chance, have you seen Tyson around?"

Maureen rolled her eyes. "The little tyke was distractin' and ruinin' what's s'possed to be a nigh on good meal. I sent him to his room, along with a plate of those Pastries ye're all so fond of."

"Enough to share?" Percy asked, the same idea growing in Annabeth's mind.

Maureen laughed. "An appetite like his? Run, and we'll see."

Percy turned to Annabeth, a smile broad across his lips. "Are you prepared to run, Princess?"

"For those Pastries?" Annabeth inquired. "Whenever not?"