Chapter Three

If asked to describe Kansas, Frank was of the mind that "flat and square" would do a good enough job. They had travelled in what had been the command bus for the New York Campaign to Lebanon, where they were staying at—of all things—a bus-camp. Frank wasn't entirely sure why he was present, if he were being honest. Hazel was there to assess the magical capabilities of the area, while Greg Wulf was there to do what Greg Wulf did best. However, what Greg Wulf did best is also what Frank was there to do, so the overlap was…unusual. Percy normally didn't assign people to things redundantly, and yet here he was, redundantly assigned to something.

While Greg and Hazel did their thing, Frank stood guard at the bus, making sure that no curious mortal tried to poke their head somewhere it didn't belong. Still, that meant that for nearly six hours, he just sat there doing nothing. As lunch-time came around, Greg and his team returned from their survey, and he narrowed his eyes at Frank as he saw him there.

"What are you doing?" He asked him, leaning against the side of the bus.

"I, uh, figured that since you were doing the surveying, I'd make sure no one tried to get into the bus?"

"Are you asking me or telling me, Zhang?" Greg huffed in amusement, before snorting. "You have no idea what you're supposed to be doing, do you?"

"Not really, no." Frank agreed. "I can't think of anything I could do that you won't already, and I don't know magic like Hazel, so I'm no help there either."

"Tribune Zhang, I don't think your job was explained well to you." He sighed. "You're not here to do my job. I'm here to survey the area and determine if a suitable city could be built here—for whatever reason the Imperator has decided so—but your job is to survey the area and determine what defensive measure should be put in place beyond the simple 'build a wall'. Where should picket lines go? How far should watch-towers extend out of the city? What's the most likely avenue of approach of an attack? The military aspect of this engineering project."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed." Wulf laughed. "Take a hike. Literally. Figure out everything you need to and reconvene here in the evening. The bus is safe, don't worry about that."

His job clarified, Frank set about actually completing the task required of him. There was too much ground for him to cover in one day, especially with half the day wasted in the morning, so instead he wandered south—of the perimeter that Wulf had established, the southern edge of it was closest to town. But even there, his initial assessment remained in place. Flat and square. Frankly, there was no way for anything to sneak up on anything. There were a couple long lengths of dense treeline, but that could easily be removed and dealt with. As he studied the area, Frank got the impression that watchtowers weren't the way to proceed as much as waystations were.

Small compounds established at strategic points along the highway would give them advanced warning on who or what would be headed their way. They could be clever with them too—Frank would bet his left hand that a diner or gas station along the highway would be frequently visited, and it wouldn't be too difficult to lay the—admittedly long—lines of telephone cables to link up with the main city. Clever usage and clever design would win in such a situation. They had to look inviting enough for mortals to use them, but also be sturdy enough to serve as miniature fortresses in the case of an assault. He'd leave the actual design up to the military engineers, but Frank was starting to get a picture of what he was supposed to do, and how to do it.

He scribbled all his thoughts down into his notebook, including some rudimentary sketches of the highway system and where he thought the buildings could go along the southern approach. Several times, cars pulled over to make sure he wasn't lost. Only one of those encounters involved any kind of monster, which he supposed was a good sign, but now he had an old Jeep abandoned on the side of the road with a long gouge along the side and he had no clue what he was supposed to do with it.

Taking the few driving lessons Percy had given him into account, he carefully drove the Jeep back to their camp after sundown. When Greg saw him and it, he sighed again, making a series of gestures to his team, who took the vehicle from him and drove off with it.

"Next time, drive away from town and walk back." He suggested without and judgement in his voice. "Most vehicles used by monsters are stolen to begin with, and the last thing you want is for the mortals to pick you up in it. You figure out what you were supposed to do?"

"I think so," Frank replied, showing his notes to Greg, who went over them, nodding where appropriate, but keeping silent. Once he finished, he shifted on his feet, glancing up at the engineer. "Well?"

"It'll be interesting implementing these ideas at a later date." He told him with a small smile before clapping his back, nearly sending Frank stumbling. "You should go find Hazel. She's at that little cafe not far from here. Apparently she had a day as well, so she could probably use some company."

"Thank you!" He called over his shoulder as he jogged off to find her.

Hazel was in a corner booth facing the door, and saw him the moment he entered, her eyes darting up as a bell chimed. A wide smile crossed her face and she made space at the table for him to slip in and place his notebook down in front of him. After ordering a tea from the waitress, the real conversation started. Hazel subtly flicked her wrist, and Frank got the impression that no one would be able to hear what was said between them.

"This place is so steeped in magic, Frank!" She exclaimed, practically buzzing in her seat. "I'm not entirely sure how or why, but I think it has to do with the fact that we're nearly in the middle of the country. I also think there may be a Labyrinth entrance nearby, but I haven't been able to find it. I'm trying though!"

"I'm not worried." He grinned at her. "You can do anything you set your mind to."

Hazel's face flushed, and she glanced away, before taking a deep breath and looking back at him. "What about you? How'd your day go?"

"Pretty well, all things considered." He shrugged. "I walked south along the one-eighty-one to try and figure out an early-warning system. Got a few ideas, but it bears more investigation. I'll head north along the two-eighty-one tomorrow, and then the thirty-six the day after. By the time we leave I'll have a decent understanding of the surroundings."

"Flat?" She offered caustically.

"And empty." He replied easily with a grin. "Can't forget that part."

"Oh, how could I?" Hazel rolled her eyes. "Why do you think we're here, really?"

"Really? I think Percy was told to check it out." Frank said. "He loves New Rome—and not just as a concept—so to have us checking out a potential site to move the city means that it was either strongly suggested to him or he was outright ordered to."

"That was what I was thinking too." She nodded. "He's been sleeping better though. Have you noticed that?"

"Yeah. He doesn't look dead on his feet anymore."

"Do you think it's related?"

"What?"

"Well," Hazel rolled her hand in the air, "Percy suddenly sends us to the middle of nowhere and we think he was told to do it. He also starts sleeping better around the same time. Logic dictates…"

"Are…are you suggesting the Gods ordered the Imperator to sleep more?"

"Maybe?" She shrugged. "Didn't you find it weird that none of the Gods ever spoke badly about Percy when they were in the Roman forms? During our quest, I mean. Anytime we ran across a Roman God, they always spoke about him pretty respectfully. Which is weird, because the gods don't do that with demigods unless they're big deals."

Her eyes widened and a blush took her face.

"Which he is, obviously," she rushed to continue, "I just meant that—"

"I know what you meant, Haze." Frank chuckled. "It's okay. And to be honest, I never really thought about it. There was always so much going on that I didn't clock it as unusual, but thinking back…yeah, they were all…uh, I'm not sure respectful is the right word, but maybe neutral? They weren't singing his praises, but they weren't insulting him either. My dad called him annoyingly competent a few times, which was maybe a backhanded compliment, I think? Well, Mars did. Ares didn't like him at all. Compared him to a few, uh…questionable emperors. As well as a few dictators."

"That's…interesting." She said carefully. "Do you think it was because of the whole Greek-Roman thing?"

"I really, really hope so." Frank admitted. "Because some of that stuff was hardcore. Like, I-don't-even-like-thinking-about-it levels of hardcore."

"Well maybe he feels differently now?" Hazel offered. "I was talking to Piper and she mentioned that her mom wasn't as angry about the Romans as she had been before."

"How are they doing?"

"Well, the Greeks were really upset that Percy and Jason got into a brawl for some reason, even though Jason has told them it was his fault to start with, so he's been running damage control pretty much from the moment he arrived." She explained. "They seem to be cool with it now, or at least not as upset as they were, though Piper is holding a grudge."

"I mean…they were both cursed, so they're both at fault, but yeah, Jason started it." He agreed. "I don't know why they'd be mad at Percy for that."

"Mostly because Annabeth doesn't like Percy, and they follow Annabeth's lead, so they don't like Percy." Hazel shrugged. "You remember Clarisse? Daughter of Mars—Ares? She and Percy fought a duel before we arrived and he won. Apparently she's been claiming that he cheated because he used his powers, and she's been pushing to get him back so she can fight him again."

"Why would someone want to fight Percy?" Frank blinked several times. "He's scary good with a sword. The best in New Rome. That's just—why?"

Hazel just shrugged again, clearly having no answer herself.

"Annabeth wants Andy and Percy to fight as well. See who's better. Andy claims their first spar wasn't even since Percy was using a dagger." She continued. "Andy told her that she doesn't want to fight Percy again, but this is Annabeth—she'll find a way to make it happen. Uhm…that's about it, I think. Still no sign of Leo, but they did get a letter from him saying he was okay. I think the phrase 'hot girl summer' was used."

"That tracks."

"I wonder what Percy is doing right now." Hazel mused. "Senate hearings? Legion reports? Beach time?"

"It's Percy, Haze," Frank chuckled. "He's probably doing what he always does. Work."

XXXVXXX

Emiko's shield caught Marco's sword as it came down, and Percy noted with some interest that it actually seemed to buckle under the impact of the blow. The Germani weren't supernatural, but by the gods were the stronger than any mortal had a right to be. He hadn't been able to get a clear answer from any of them as to why that was, but nor was he complaining. The show match had been set up to display the differences between his Tervingi Bodyguards and his Amazon Bodyguards.

Interestingly, it had been Emiko herself who suggested it. The Amazons had not exactly been pleased when he came back with a new bodyguard unit, but neither were they against it. They all knew that their arrangement was temporary, but he had grown fond of them, and they of him, and so it seemed they were mostly glad that once they were gone there would still be a group there to keep him safe. Still, they were determined to prove that they were still the best choice while they were with him. The whole point was to decide who would be his primary 'day' guard and who would be his 'night' guard. One was much more prestigious than the other—his day guard would be seen with him when he went to the Senate, was operating with the legion, or was accepting petitions. The night guard…would not.

And it was close—by the time the leaders of the respective factions took up arms against each other, they were tied in victories. This match would be the one to determine the roles of the groups.

"They're both very skilled." One of his guests in the observation booth, Abigail Chauveau, noted. "I think the Amazon has it, however."

She had been a legionary before Percy's time, retiring at age seventeen three years before he himself joined. After her time in the service, she had moved back to France to live with her father, up until Percy had recalled all overseas veterans at Lupa's command. Since they, her ideals had aligned her with the Populares Party, but honestly, Percy found her far more honest and open to compromise than many of his 'supporters' in the Aquila Party. Plus…French accent. Both he and Reyna found it captivating, which had taken them by surprise when they found themselves mentioning it to each other.

"I might have to agree with you," he replied, as Emiko used her battered shield to pin Marco's spatha to the ground. Her spear jabbed up, just barely missing his neck as she let it come to a rest on his shoulder. The behemoth of a man sighed deeply and conceded the match. "Just barely though. He relied on his strength a little too much and not enough on his skill."

"Yes, he did." She agreed. "But interestingly, he did not underestimate her, like I imagine most men would."

"Senator, he's a resurrected barbarian from the fourth century." He reminded her. "He knows very well what underestimating an opponent can do."

"I don't know how that fact seems to escape my mind," she sighed. "It was rather miraculous they chose to swear to you, non?"

"Yes, it was. But not unsurprising."

"Oh?"

"You're smarter than that, Senator, but I'll humour you." He chuckled. "I'm currently the most powerful demigod alive—and I say that without any ego—because I have an army at my beck and call, and a city providing the infrastructure to support that army. The gods favour me immensely because I make them stronger, and so whatever benefits me benefits them. The Tervingi used a chaotic period to escape from death, and they don't want to go back. Their best chance of not dying lies with me…and so they stand with me."

"Thank you for humouring me, at the very least, Imperator," Abigail smiled warmly at him. "I did know that, of course, but it is very interesting hearing you say these things. You are…very intelligent. You have a way of saying things that make them easy to understand. That is especially useful when English is not my first language."

"Aside from the accent, it's impossible to tell." He told he. "All that said, let's not pretend that you don't understand English perfectly well—it's like I said when I returned from campaigning in the east, I know you all, and I know how you all write. And someone who writes as well as you do doesn't have any issues with English."

"Speaking it well and understanding it are two different things, Imperator." She laughed. "I speak it fine. But English is a complicated language, despite its simplicity. It is not always easy to understand what one means. Tone, intent, and context is very important. But you speak English much like you speak Latin—straight to the point, and with no pretensions of flowery language."

"Trust me, I'm very capable of flowery language when I want to be."

"I am aware of that too. But talking to people is different than talking to politicians. This we both know. You are a good leader, Perseus. I may not always agree with you, and I may not like that sole power has been put in your hands, but it is not because it is you, but rather because it is only you. If you had been proclaimed consul instead, had allowed a colleague to be elected, my support would have been unflinching. But politics demands we negotiate. And that is why I am here, no? To negotiate whatever law it is you've been so diligently working on recently." She smiled warmly at him. "I am ready to negotiate, if you are done entertaining me."

"You think you're here to negotiate?" He smiled back, an easy, deeply unsettling smile Lupa had trained him in from a young age. "You're here to hear my terms and take them back to your people. We're not negotiating. I'm dictating."

Abigail's smile faltered.

"I understand why your party—on the surface—doesn't like me. Some of you even believe in the stated reason. But let's not pretend for a moment that most of them are just upset that I was the one to become Imperator, and not them." He said. "But sure, let's get down to business. At the next session of the Senate, I'm going to be proposing the Lex Aevum Legionarium, a law that will raise the age of enlistment from literally any age over eight to seventeen. Anyone older than twelve will join a junior program that will teach them the discipline of the legion without forcing them to watch their friends die while the adults hide behind them. I'm done with child soldiers. We don't need any more of them. So let me tell you what you're going to tell Daniel Voss and the others—that when I announce this bill, a simultaneous announcement will be made in the forum, announcing the bill in explicit terms. There'll be no confusing or twisting my intentions. The votes of each senator regarding this bill will be public knowledge, available to anyone who wants to look them up. As will all votes in the future. But I'm not unfair. My vetoes will also be public knowledge, as will the bills I sponsor."

The smile was gone from the senator's face, but Percy's stayed firmly locked on his face.

"You're right. I am a good leader, and it is only me. And as long as I'm alive, I will continue to be a good leader, and it will continue to only be me. I will do what is best for my people, and I will do it in spite of what politicians want or expect from me." He said, before standing. That brought everyone else in the booth to their feet. "After you've told the Populares what I'm going to do, you may want to remind them that they're supposed to serve the people, not their own agendas. If you want a reminder as to what happens to those who don't, you'll often find former Senator Marlowe outside of my residence, pleading for her old job back. Have a good day, Senator. I look forward to your support in the coming vote."

It was a squad of legionaries from the Fifth who escorted him back to his residence, part of the rotating bodyguard from the cohorts he had established—he trusted the Amazons and the Tervingi implicitly, but it was good for morale to see him surrounded by Romans, not foreigners, every so often. And it wasn't like he didn't trust the legionaries—it was just that he liked not having them do something as boring as standing outside of his home all the time. It was a tedious job, and Legionaries were better suited to the Field of Mars doing drills.

Percy's residence was more than just a house—it was his personal headquarters, the place from which he ran New Rome. Political, Military, Civil—anything that was being done, it was run through his residence first. Officially, it was the Domus Persei—the House of Perseus—but unofficially, the people of New Rome called it the Blue House. Which was fair—not long after it had been built, Percy had taken one look at the white stucco walls and asked that they were painted blue, with scenes from the ocean on them. The artwork was spectacular, based off his descriptions of Atlantis, and it always struck him with a sense of pride when he saw it. So he let the Blue House name stand, and even took a little bit of pride in it.

But with the Blue House being a mix of an office and a home, that meant that there were always people inside it. Supplicants waited in the atrium, while scribes darted between rooms. The moment he arrived, those waiting to seek an audience rose to their feet, but before a single one of them could make a move, Reyna strode into the room from the other side, a neutral expression on her face Percy knew meant she had heard something she didn't like. He held up a hand to stop anyone from approaching him and followed her towards his private study. Two at a time, the guards peeled off and stationed themselves in the hall, until it was only himself and his girlfriend.

"I just heard from Hazel," she said once the door behind them was closed. "The Greeks have officially extended an invitation."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"It's only for Hazel and Frank." Reyna clarified, and now the reason for her frustration was clear. "The 'heroes' of the prophecy. As if we didn't fight and bleed too!"

"Individualism versus collectivism," he smiled wryly at her. "The prophecy didn't include us, but it did include them."

"I nearly died getting that statue back to them, and they can't even bother inviting me?"

"I'm sure Jason told them it was a bad idea."

"They didn't ask him."

That took him by surprise.

"Sorry, what?"

"They didn't ask Jason. Hazel said that they IM'd them during lunch today."

"They—wait, did they send the invitations directly to Frank and Hazel?"

"Yes."

"Not to me?"

"That is correct."

"They didn't accidentally send it to the Senate?"

"No. Directly to Frank and Hazel—again, Iris message."

"Okay," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "How many people know?"

"Greg Wulff and his team were there when it happened, apparently."

"Shit. If it were just Greg, he'd keep his mouth shut."

"I know," she placed a hand on his shoulder. "What do you want to do?"

Percy's brow furrowed as he thought, and he slipped past Reyna in order to drop into his chair. After a moment, his gaze drifted towards the bronze statue that had been anonymously gifted to him—although he knew exactly who had sent it to him.

"Lupa." He said.

"Lupa?" Reyna blinked. "I'm not sure she really cares."

What do I not care about? The She-Wolf herself stalked into the room, the door swinging open and shut almost as if it were done by a breeze. She loped over towards the couch, and by the time she reclined into it, she was in her human form, a toga covering her body, a circlet perched upon her brow, and two bracelets rattling on her wrists.

"The Greeks sent direct invitations to Hazel and Frank to go to Camp Half-Blood instead of to me." He told her. "They didn't consult Jason, I'm fairly certain they would have ignored whatever advice Lord Chiron gave them if he did at all, and I don't care for it."

"Reyna is correct. I am unsure why that is a concern of mine."

"It's not, honestly." Percy said, smiling warmly at her. "I can, of course, respond to any insults to Rome myself."

Lupa narrowed her eyes at him.

"I can reach out to another immortal—I'm certain that Parva Tibernia would be more than pleased to carry that duty onwards."

"You're trying to manipulate me." She accused. "It won't work."

"Won't it?"

"I'm old enough to recognise your tricks, Pup." She shook her head. "You won't fool me."

"I'm not trying to fool you; I'm trying to manipulate you." He countered easily. "And besides—when have you known me to bluff?"

"Solve your own issues, Perseus." Lupa rose—right as the door swung open yet again. In came another woman, practically bouncing on her heels.

"I heard my name!" The spirit of the Little Tiber announced herself. "Do you need me to go somewhere? Oh, Imperator, I'm more than happy to help you! You did kill that awful snake clogging up my river!"

"As a matter of fact—" Percy began, only for Lupa to snap her jaws at him—much less threatening when she wasn't a wolf.

"We were simply discussing your performance as a protector of New Rome's waterway." The Wolf-Goddess said, glaring at him. "You've done well, Parva. Thank you, that will be all."

"Oh," her face fell. "Thank you. I hope you have somewhere to send me soon, Imperator."

"I'll see what I can do, Parva." He told her—and honestly, he felt a little bad for the spirit. She was…eccentric, yes, but she genuinely wanted to see more of the world and didn't often get the opportunity to leave her river. "I'm sure I can find somewhere for you to visit."

"Oh! Thank you!" She blew him a kiss and vanished. He shot Reyna an apologetic look, but his girlfriend was more amused than anything else.

"I will go to the Greek Camp." Lupa drew his focus back to her. "I will tell them of their mistake and warn them not to make it again—but I will not be gentle with them, Perseus."

"Gentle?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. "If I wanted gentle, I'd have sent Parva. I don't want gentle, Lady Lupa. I want the wolf."

"Well it seems some of my lessons have stuck with you yet." Lupa conceded. "Salacia has not completely retrained you."

"Lady Salacia made me a better warrior, my lady, but I owe who I am to you."

She studied him for a moment before nodding to herself and striding out of the room. Once she was gone, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Percy…" Reyna said gently.

"Yeah?"

"You just outplayed Lupa." She said. The disbelief was evident in her voice—and he couldn't blame her at all. He was honestly just as surprised it had worked.

"Yeah." He nodded. "I guess I did."

"You just—Percy, you just manipulated a goddess into doing something you wanted her to do. That's…I mean, there are stories, but they're ancient, and most of them are probably lies at best."

"Never underestimate what the fear of having someone embarrass you will do."

"You think the Parva Tibernia would have embarrassed us?"

"Gods no!" He laughed. "She's sweet and excitable, yes, but Parva is one of the coldest nymphs I've ever met. You heard her—she thanked me for killing the Trojan Sea Monster, not for keeping her river clean."

Reyna opened her mouth and then closed it. "I didn't even notice."

"Her favourite activity was watching Triton pummel me in the river when Lady Salacia was training me. She also really loves New Rome, so she'd have been pretty steamed with the Greeks by insulting us like that. It's honestly probably better that Lupa is the one going. The moment Lord Chiron finds out, he'll warn the Greeks of her reputation so they know what's coming—if it had been Parva, no one would have known what to expect."

"Are you telling me that the spirit of the river we go swimming in is bloodthirsty?"

"What? No. She'd never hurt anyone. She just likes watching it happen to others." He laughed. "I don't question immortals of any kind anymore. Just sort of…accept it and move on. Less headaches that way."

"You sound like Jason."

"Not surprising." He shrugged. "We're pretty similar. Mostly. I'd never be caught dead at second base with you in my office."

"Oh really?"

"That's not a challenge and please don't take it as one."

"Sort of sounds like a challenge to me, Perce."

"It's really not."

"Sounds like one though." She leaned over his desk, nose-to-nose with him. "You think it's impossible?"

"I don't think anything is impossible at this point."

"That's not a no."

"It's not a yes, either."

"I wouldn't though." He insisted, cupping her chin. "Want to know why?"

"I might be."

"There's a door that goes straight to my bedroom from here, remember?"

"Is that an offer?" They were in dangerous territory, and Percy knew it. So, with willpower that would have impressed any of the gods, he leaned back in his seat.

"Just an observation. Don't you have a briefing in…seven minutes?"

"Seve—oh, gods, I'm going to be late!" Reyna started upright and bolted for the door. "Love you!"

"Love you too," he called back with a chuckle. Then he let out a deep breath. "Gods above, that woman is going to kill me."

Once his heartbeat had lowered to something more acceptable, he started going through the stack of papers Kyle had prepared for him. At the very top was one with a note from his aide. He pulled the slip of paper from the clip and read the neatly untidy scrawl.

I know you don't like getting useless papers, but I thought this one might make you laugh, sir.

He glanced at the document and snorted the moment he read the title.

Petition to declare August Sixteenth 'Imperator Day' in honour of our glorious leader: Petition by Rebecca Marlowe.

MMXXII

I had fun writing this chapter.

I have a discord! The code is aQyrha34Pu

Cheers, CombatTombat