VI. REYNA
One month later
"LEGION! ORDINEM FORMA!"
The first month of joining Camp Jupiter was usually pure torture. Adjusting to everything— the barracks, the early roll-calls, the training and the bullying— took a while. Most demigods had to take at least a month to figure things out and get over the potty probie phase.
Percy Jackson, of course, was nothing like that.
Barely a month had passed since he'd arrived at Camp Jupiter, and in that time, Reyna had observed him with growing unease. The son of Neptune moved through camp with an ease that should not have come so naturally to him. Even when Reyna had first arrived, despite everything she'd faced, she took a while to understand how the Camp worked, who was in-charge and how to get along with them. Percy took to it naturally, and everyone listened to what he had to say. Not just because he was a powerful demigod (he was), but because he cared about everyone— or at least, it appeared that way.
She grudgingly had to admit that Percy Jackson was faring far better than she had expected in Camp Jupiter.
The morning sun streamed through the open-air pavilion where Reyna stood. She watched as legionnaires crossed the forum below, their purple shirts forming a moving mosaic against the pale stone. Aurum and Argentum, sat obediently at her feet, occasionally turning their metallic heads to scan for threats or rabbits.
"Praetor."
Reyna turned to see Dakota, the Centurion of the Fifth. His lips were stained red with Kool-Aid. "The Fifth Cohort's training schedule for today. And the report on yesterday's war games."
Reyna accepted the scroll with a nod. "Thank you, Centurion."
Dakota hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "There's also… Legionnaire Jackson has been requesting permission to reorganize some of the evening training sessions. For the—" he cleared his throat, "—for the less skilled demigods."
Now she gave him her full attention, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Did he go through proper channels?"
"Yes, Praetor. Forms filed in triplicate, with endorsements from Frank Zhang and… Cassius Hardy."
Reyna's fingers tightened around the scroll. Cassius was involving himself with Jackson now? That was… unexpected.
"I'll review it," she said, dismissing Dakota with a nod.
When she was alone again, Reyna unrolled the schedule and scanned it absently, not really able to bring herself to focus on it.
One month.
One month, and Percy Jackson had managed to ingratiate himself with not only the Fifth Cohort but also with legionnaires across all ranks. It was almost impressive, if it wasn't so concerning.
"You're frowning again," came Hazel's voice as she approached from the shadows. The daughter of Pluto had a way of appearing silently, though Aurum and Argentum never growled at her.
"Am I?" Reyna asked, not bothering to change her expression.
"You've been frowning since Percy arrived," Hazel said, coming to stand beside her at the railing. "Though I can't tell if it's because of him specifically, or because of what his arrival might mean."
Reyna remained silent for a moment. Below them, the morning drills were beginning, centurions calling out formations in crisp Latin. "Both," she finally admitted. "He shouldn't be here, Hazel."
"You think his being sent here was accidental?"
"Nothing usually is, with the gods." Reyna's tone was carefully neutral.
Hazel didn't say anything, instead choosing to watch the legion move through their paces. It was easy to spot Percy among them, his form distinctive even from so far away. Unlike the others who moved like well-oiled machines, Percy's movements were fluid, unpredictable. Effective, but undisciplined.
"He's helping them," Hazel observed, following Reyna's gaze to where Percy was demonstrating something to a younger legionnaire who had been struggling with a particular exercise.
"Help can be dangerous when it comes from the wrong source," Reyna replied.
"Is that what this is about? Circe's island?" Hazel asked. Reyna stiffened at the mention of her past. It wasn't something she enjoyed talking about.
"You know very little about that," Reyna said, her voice cooling several degrees.
"I know enough." Hazel's golden eyes were steady, unflinching. "I know that you survived when many didn't. I know that you don't talk about it, except when you wake up screaming some nights."
Reyna turned sharply. "You've been outside my quarters?"
Hazel shrugged. "The dead don't sleep much. I walk at night sometimes."
The confession hung between them, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, simply true. Reyna relaxed slightly, turning back to the view. Hazel knew her secrets. She knew hers. She had to respect that.
"He reminds me so much of Jason," Reyna found herself saying. "Both are the most powerful demigods wherever they go. Both are really good swordsmen. Both are natural leaders—"
"Both are hot."
"Hazel!"
The daughter of Pluto grinned. "Just saying. You aren't denying it."
"That's irrelevant," Reyna argued, though she felt a blush cross her cheeks. "But Percy is different from Jason."
Hazel frowned. "How so?"
Reyna sighed. "I don't know how to explain it. If there was a battle, Jason would be leading from a hill, overlooking the valley, striking down fear and lightning and swooping in like an eagle. People used to love him because he was everything the ideal Roman should be."
The drills continued down below. A few of the younger legionnaires had stepped out, already tired. Gradually, they would be forced to stay up for longer and longer periods until they gained the stamina for the entire set.
"What about Percy?" Hazel asked, after a minute.
"Percy…" Reyna sighed. "I'm still figuring him out. But, if there was a battle, he would lead the troops in the trenches. He wouldn't be up above, flying down and striking lightning, you know? He'd be down there, fighting everyone like a hurricane of metal and steel. He's not the ideal Roman, but he's a surprisingly good leader."
"You know what?" Hazel replied, after thinking for a few seconds. "I understand that. What I don't understand is why you're so concerned about him."
"Venus said he would help me," Reyna pointed out. "But gods rarely specify how their help will come, or what price it will exact."
"You think he'll make things worse."
"I think—" Reyna paused, considering her words carefully. "I think Perseus Jackson is a force of nature wearing human skin. And forces of nature don't always discriminate between what they preserve and what they destroy."
The conversation ended as another messenger approached, saluting before delivering their report. Reyna listened intently, trying not to seem tired, especially considering who had sent the messenger.
"Understood," she said when they finished. "Tell Octavian I'll meet with him after midday. Not before."
As the messenger departed, Hazel gave her a sympathetic look. "Octavian's being difficult about the auguries again?"
"When is he not?" Reyna sighed. "He claims the entrails show danger approaching from the sea. I suspect he's just trying to turn the Senate against Jackson."
"And are you going to let him?"
Reyna's lips thinned. "No. Whatever Percy Jackson is here for, it's not Octavian's business to interfere."
"That sounds almost like you're protecting him."
"I'm protecting Rome," Reyna corrected sharply. "As I always have."
Some demigods thought Romans didn't train for solo fights at all. But Reyna knew that was stupid. All Romans were excellent fighters alone. It was just that together they were far superior.
The Field of Mars looked deceptively peaceful under the midday sun. Aurum and Argentum ran around nearby, chasing the occasional rats. Their metal paws made no sound on the packed earth, but legionnaires still gave them a wide berth as they passed. Reyna always wondered what they'd do if they actually caught a rat some day. It wasn't like the pair could actually eat it.
"Alright guys! Let's do that one more time!"
A voice. Distinctly familiar.
At the farthest edge of the field, Reyna spotted them again—Percy Jackson and a small group of probatioes, practicing sword techniques that looked distinctly un-Roman. And beside Percy stood Cassius, his dark hair pulled back, demonstrating a parry to another small group.
Reyna approached silently, noting how the groups failed to notice her presence, too absorbed in their training. That was rare. And not something to be proud of. A Roman should always be aware of their surroundings.
Ironically enough, it was Percy who spotted her first, his sea-green eyes meeting hers across the dusty ground. He said something to the others, and suddenly all activity ceased as they turned to face her.
"Praetor," they chorused, saluting with fists over hearts. All except Percy, who gave a belated, awkward version of the gesture that made several of the younger demigods wince.
"Probatioes," Reyna acknowledged. "What exactly is happening here?"
It was Cassius who stepped forward, his face carefully neutral. "Additional combat training, Praetor. For those who need extra practice."
"I see." Reyna's gaze swept over the group—most of them from lower cohorts, many looking distinctly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. "And this was authorized by…?"
"Me," Percy said, stepping forward. When someone cleared their throat, he quickly added—"I mean, I filed the forms. Dakota said they were being processed."
"Forms which I have not yet approved," Reyna pointed out.
A tense silence fell. Aurum and Argentum prowled forward slightly, their ruby eyes gleaming. They could smell lies and fear, and right now, the air was thick with the latter.
"It was my idea, Praetor," Cassius said suddenly. "Jackson was just helping."
Reyna turned her attention to him, studying his face. Cassius…wasn't usually like this. Something about her old friend was different. And Reyna wanted to know what it was.
"Walk with me," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Jackson, you too." She turned without waiting for a response, knowing they would follow.
When they had gone far enough that the others couldn't overhear, Reyna stopped and faced them both. "Explain."
Cassius and Percy exchanged glances. It was Percy who spoke first.
"These kids are getting crushed during regular training. No one's taking the time to actually teach them—they're just being used as practice dummies by the more experienced legionnaires."
"That's how Rome functions," Reyna said flatly. "The strong survive."
"That's how Rome falls," Percy countered, surprising her with his vehemence. "You're wasting potential. Some of these kids have skills that aren't being developed because everyone's too busy trying to follow some ancient training manual."
Reyna's eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Cassius stepped in.
"What Jackson means, Praetor, is that we believe some of these future legionnaires could become valuable assets with more personalized training. It's an experiment, nothing more."
Reyna studied them both. Somehow, some way, Percy had bonded with Cassius over less than a month. The idea that someone else had gotten close to her oldest friend was…new. As far as she knew, Cassius always kept to himself, no matter who spoke to him. The only exception so far had been her. But how?
She took a deep breath. Focus.
"Very well," she said. "Your… experiment may continue, provided it doesn't interfere with regular training schedules." She fixed Percy with a stern look. "And provided you understand that in Rome, Legionnaire Jackson, we follow orders and protocols. Not improvisation."
"Yes, ma'am," Percy said, with just enough seriousness that she couldn't quite tell if he was mocking her.
She turned to leave, then paused. "Cassius, a word in private."
Percy took the hint and retreated back to the training group. When he was out of earshot, Reyna faced Cassius fully.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice low.
"Training future legionnaires," he replied, his expression guarded.
"With him? After everything we don't know about his past, you choose to align yourself with him?"
Cassius's expression hardened slightly. "I'm not 'aligning' myself with anyone, Reyna. I'm doing what I've always done—trying to make our legion stronger."
"And you think he helps with that?"
"I think," Cassius said carefully, "that we can't afford to ignore useful skills, regardless of their source. Not with—" he hesitated, then continued, "—not with Jason gone."
It was like someone dropped a bucket of ice on her. Reyna's jaw tightened. Did he mean to say that she wasn't enough?
"We've managed without," she said coldly.
"Have we?" Cassius's question was gentle, but it struck like a blow. "The legion is fractured, Reyna. Morale is low. The Senate questions your every decision."
"And you think Percy Jackson is the solution?"
"I think he's part of it." Cassius met her gaze steadily. "Whether you want him to be or not."
Reyna was silent for a long moment, acutely aware of her dogs watching them both, sensing the tension.
"Be careful, Cassius," she finally said. "Not everything that washes up from the sea is a gift."
She turned and strode away, her purple cloak billowing behind her, feeling his eyes on her back long after she had passed out of sight.
The Senate House was mercifully empty when Reyna entered it later that afternoon. She needed the solitude. A moment to gather her thoughts before the evening's proceedings.
The marble benches rose in tiers around the central speaking floor, which was fortunately empty at the moment. Reyna sank into her praetor's chair, running her fingers along the carved armrests, feeling the weight of every praetor who had sat here before her. There should have been someone beside her.
"Funny how we always end up here when we're troubled," came a voice from the entrance.
Reyna didn't need to look up to know it was Hazel. Again. "The Senate House?"
"Places of power," Hazel clarified, walking down to join her. "You come here. I go to the Temple of Pluto. We seek our strength where we know we can find it."
Reyna smiled faintly. "Is that wisdom from your first life or your second?"
"Both, maybe." Hazel sat on the steps near Reyna's chair, her gold eyes thoughtful. "I saw you talking to Cassius and Percy earlier."
"News travels fast."
"It's a small camp," Hazel shrugged. "And you three make an interesting tableau."
Reyna frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The praetor, the loner, and the newcomer," Hazel said, as if it were obvious. "Everyone's watching to see how it plays out."
"There's nothing to 'play out,'" Reyna said firmly. "Jackson is here temporarily. Once we determine his purpose and fulfill it, he'll leave."
"And if his purpose involves staying?"
The question hung in the air, unwelcome and persistent. Reyna had asked herself the same thing countless times over the past month.
"Then Rome will adapt," she said finally. "As it always has."
"And will you?"
Reyna paused for a moment. A large part of her did not want to acknowledge the change Percy was bringing into Camp. Most of her just wanted things to go back to the way they were. When Jason was still there.
But that was in the past. And Reyna knew, better than most, that nothing good came from dwelling on it.
"Reyna," Hazel asked again. "Will you?"
Reyna nodded. "Yes. I will."
Hazel seemed to accept this, turning her attention to the empty space around them. "Will you tell the Senate about his training sessions?"
"Do I need to?" Reyna asked, already knowing the answer.
"Octavian knows," Hazel confirmed. "He was watching from the temple hill. If you don't mention it, he will—and he'll make it sound like sedition."
Reyna sighed. "Of course he was." She tapped her fingers against the chair arm, making a decision. "I'll raise it myself, then. Frame it as an initiative to strengthen our weaker elements."
"And the fact that it's Percy's idea?"
"A detail," Reyna said dismissively. "The important thing is that it benefits Rome."
Hazel studied her with those ancient eyes that seemed to see too much. "You're starting to sound like you actually believe he might be helpful."
"I'm keeping my options open," Reyna corrected. "Venus said—"
"Venus says a lot of things," Hazel interrupted gently. "Most of them designed to create chaos rather than resolve it."
Reyna couldn't argue with that. She stood, smoothing her toga. "The Senate will convene soon. I should prepare."
Hazel rose as well. "What will you do about Percy in the long term? If he stays?"
"One question at a time," Reyna said. "First, I need to understand what he remembers."
"About Circe's island?" Hazel asked.
Reyna nodded. "If he truly doesn't remember destroying my home… I need to know why. And what else he might have forgotten."
"You think it's connected to Jason's disappearance?"
"It's possible."
"So what are you going to do?"
What was she going to do?
"I'm going to invite him to walk with me," she decided suddenly. "After the Senate meeting. I need to understand what we're dealing with."
Hazel's expression was unreadable. "Be careful, Reyna. Sometimes, the things you say…can't be taken back."
Reyna didn't reply. She knew. Hazel walked out silently, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
As the first senators began to file in, Reyna straightened, her moment of retrospection carefully packed away. The praetor's mask slipped back into place, and she felt better than she had felt the whole day.
The Senate session began, and as expected, Octavian wasted no time in raising concerns about "Greek influences" corrupting their training methods. Reyna listened, trying to seem patient while inwardly plotting the precise moment to cut him off and re-frame the narrative. Politics was just another battlefield but with different weapons. It was just unfortunate for Octavian that Reyna outclassed him both ways. She was able to keep him down— at least, for the moment.
By the time the session ended, her decision was made. The motion of confidence would be raised, but not tonight. First, she needed answers.
As the senators dispersed, Reyna summoned a messenger. "Find Legionnaire Jackson," she instructed. "Tell him I require his presence at the Temple of Bellona. Immediately."
The die was cast. Now she would see what fate the gods had truly sent to her shores.
It was dark by the time Reyna stood before the Temple of Bellona. Unlike the grand marble structures dedicated to Jupiter or Mars, this temple was austere, built of dark stone that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. War, after all, made no promises of glory—only necessity.
"You summoned me."
Percy Jackson's voice came from behind her, neither questioning nor particularly deferential. Reyna turned, noting that he had arrived alone, without the usual Fifth Cohort entourage that seemed to follow him everywhere lately.
"I did." She studied him in the half-light. He was guarded, but not outright defensive. Good.
"Come," she said, turning toward the temple entrance. "We have matters to discuss that require privacy."
Percy hesitated only briefly before following her into the shadowed interior of the temple. Aurum and Argentum fell into step behind him, effectively cutting off any retreat. Not that she expected him to run—whatever else Percy Jackson might be, he was not a coward.
The temple's main chamber was sparsely decorated, lit only by a few eternal flames that burned in bronze braziers. Their light cast long, dancing shadows across walls decorated with ancient weapons and battle standards, trophies from conflicts long forgotten. At the far end stood a simple altar, and behind it, a doorway partially hidden in its shadow.
Reyna led them past the altar, through the concealed door, and into a narrow passage that wound deeper into the temple complex. The dogs' metal claws clicked softly against stone, the only sound accompanying their descent.
"Where exactly are we going?" Percy finally asked, his voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space.
"A place where we can speak freely," Reyna replied without turning.
The passage opened into a small circular chamber, its walls lined with polished obsidian that reflected the light of a single flame burning in a central basin. The floor was inlaid with a mosaic depicting a shield and spear—Bellona's symbols—carved out of tiles of jet and bloodstone.
"Welcome to the Heart of War," Reyna said, turning to face Percy as her dogs took positions on either side of the room's only exit. "Few outside the priesthood of Bellona know this place exists. Even fewer have entered it."
Percy glanced around. "It's… intense. Reminds me of—" He stopped abruptly, as if catching himself.
"Of what?" Reyna prompted, watching him carefully.
"Nothing," he said with a dismissive shake of his head. "Just reminds me of some other temples I've seen."
Reyna circled the flame basin, studying him across the dancing light. "You've seen many temples, then?"
"More than I'd like," Percy admitted. "Gods seem to like summoning me to them."
"And why do you think that is?"
Percy shrugged. "Bad luck?"
The flame between them flickered, casting momentary shadows across his face that made him seem older, wearier.
"Why are you here, Perseus Jackson?" Reyna asked, her voice surprising her with how soft it was. "Not at this temple—at this camp. Among Romans who do not know you, do not trust you, and have every reason to be suspicious of a son of Neptune appearing when our own child of the Big Three has vanished."
Percy met her gaze steadily across the flame. "I told you when I arrived. I was sent by Apollo, following a prophecy. To stop something bad from happening. A curse."
"And yet a month has passed, and this 'something bad' remains conveniently undefined," Reyna noted. "While you integrate yourself into our camp, learn our defenses, our strengths and weaknesses—"
"You think I'm a spy?" Percy asked in a disbelieving tone.
"I think," Reyna said carefully, "that you are an unknown variable in a very delicate equation. And I do not appreciate unknowns when the safety of Rome hangs in the balance."
Percy's expression hardened slightly. "I've been nothing but honest since I got here."
"Have you?" Reyna moved closer. "Then tell me why you are really here. Not the prophecy. Not Apollo's mission. What drives Perseus Jackson to abandon his own world for ours?"
Something flickered in Percy's eyes for a second. He was silent for so long that Reyna thought he might refuse to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, less certain.
"There was someone," he said. "Back at my camp. Someone I… cared about. We went through a lot together. Quests. Battles. Heck, even a war. I thought, after everything, we would finally have time to be together. To just be normal teenagers for five minutes."
"But?" Reyna prompted, recognizing the familiar shape of disappointment in his words.
"But I had to go on this quest. And turns out, she chose something else. A different path. One that didn't include me." Percy's laugh held no humor. "She was offered a position by her mother—designing and rebuilding Olympus. With an oath of eternal maidenhood, though, so…"
"Rather than stay and watch her new life unfold without you, you chose to stay on this quest once you found out," Reyna finished for him.
Percy nodded. "Yeah" he said softly. "It might sound stupid to you. But you asked me to be honest."
Reyna studied him across the basin of fire, trying to reconcile this version of Percy Jackson—vulnerable, hurt, almost…ordinary—with the destructive force that had once torn through her former home. With the charismatic leader who was slowly reweaving the fabric of her camp. With the warrior who was supposed to save her.
"Love makes fools of us all," she said finally. "Even the best warriors."
"You sound like you speak from experience."
Reyna's expression shuttered closed. "We're not here to discuss my past."
"Then why are we here? In this secret room with your metal guard dogs?" Percy gestured toward Aurum and Argentum, who remained motionless but watchful. "If you wanted to kill me, there are easier ways."
"If I wanted you dead, you would never have made it past the Little Tiber," Reyna said flatly.
Percy smiled slightly at that. "Sure."
Reyna circled the basin again, choosing her next words carefully.
"Do you remember me, Percy Jackson?" she asked, trying not to let any amount of nervousness cloud her words.
Percy's brow furrowed. "Remember you? We met when I arrived at camp."
"Before that."
"Before…" Percy's expression grew distant, searching. "No, I don't think we've met before that. I'd remember someone like you."
I'd remember someone like you
The answer was sincere—Reyna could see no deception in his face, and her dogs remained still. Yet the truth of his answer somehow felt worse than if he had been lying.
"You truly don't remember," she said in disbelief. She was surprised at how bitter she felt just then.
Percy looked genuinely confused. "Remember what? Have we met before?"
Reyna's jaw tightened. She reached into a small pouch at her belt and withdrew a small object—a blackened, partially melted figurine of a guinea pig. She placed it deliberately on the edge of the flame basin.
"Four years ago," she said, trying to control the bitterness she felt, "you and another demigod—a daughter of Athena—came to an island in the Sea of Monsters. The home of the sorceress Circe."
Percy's eyes widened in recognition. "Circe's island… the spa. She turned me into a guinea pig."
"Yes." Reyna's eyes never left his face. "And when your friend released you, you released something else as well. A hold full of pirates that Circe had transformed. Pirates who had been contained there for centuries."
Understanding dawned slowly across Percy's features, followed by a dawning horror. "You were there. You lived there."
"I was there," Reyna confirmed, her voice hard as the obsidian walls around them. "My sister Hylla and I served Circe. It was our home, our sanctuary. The only place we had ever felt safe after fleeing our father's house."
"And the pirates—"
"Destroyed everything," Reyna finished, the words like shards of glass in her throat. "They burned the island, slaughtered many of Circe's followers. Those they didn't kill, they—" She stopped, unwilling to give voice to those particular memories. "My sister and I survived by proving ourselves warriors. We spent years serving on their ship before we finally escaped."
Percy stood still, the firelight carving harsh lines on his face making him look eerily like an old emperor of Rome. Like Nero. Like Augustus. Like Caesar.
"I didn't know," he said after a pause. "I was just trying to save myself. To escape."
"Your actions nearly cost me my life," Reyna said, her voice deathly quiet. "And they did cost me my freedom, for a time. If you hadn't freed those pirates, I might still be there, serving Circe, living in peace."
"I'm sorry," Percy said, and to his credit, he sounded genuine. "If I had known—"
"But you didn't know," Reyna cut him off. "You acted without understanding the consequences, as heroes so often do. You saved yourself and your friend, and left destruction in your wake for others to survive as best they could."
The room was heavy with silence. Reyna didn't say anything after that. Neither did Percy. Aurum whined. Argentum scratched his ear.
"Is that why you hate me?" Percy finally asked.
"I don't hate you," Reyna replied, surprising herself with the truth of it. "I fear what you represent. The chaos that follows in your wake, intentional or not."
Percy absorbed this, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "And yet Venus told you I would help you."
"How do you know that?"
"Hazel told me."
Of course. Reyna had been giving the Daughter of Pluto a lot more leeway of late, but perhaps it was time they had a talk about it.
"The gods' help often comes disguised as destruction," Reyna said grimly. "I learned that lesson on your first visit to my home."
Percy seemed to be weighing his words carefully when he spoke again. "I can't undo what happened," he said slowly. "But I am sorry for the pain it caused you. And I am here to help now, if you'll let me."
Reyna studied him across the flame. "You left someone you loved to follow a prophecy," she pointed out. "To save people you don't even know." She took a breath, then continued. "I read your application to the legion. Your fatal flaw is supposed to be personal loyalty—putting those you care about above the greater good. And yet here you are, having done exactly the opposite. Why?"
Percy opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, uncertainty crossing his features.
"I… don't know," he admitted finally. "I've been asking myself the same thing. It doesn't make sense, does it?"
"No," Reyna agreed. "It doesn't."
And that, more than anything else they had discussed, troubled her. Because if Percy Jackson was acting contrary to his own nature, then something fundamental had shifted in the order of things. And shifts of that magnitude rarely boded well for anyone—Greek or Roman.
The flame between them flared suddenly higher, casting their shadows in stark relief against the obsidian walls. A sign from her mother, maybe, or just a draft from the ventilation shafts. Either way, Reyna took it as a sign. Their time was up.
"We should leave," she said, straightening her shoulders, once again the praetor rather than the questioner. "The Senate will be wondering where we've gone."
Percy nodded, looking strangely relieved, though a new weight seemed to have settled across his shoulders.
As they walked back through the narrow passage, the dogs following silently behind, Percy spoke up again.
"What will you do now?" he asked. "Now that you know I don't remember destroying your home. That I'm sorry for it."
Reyna continued walking, her back straight, her eyes fixed ahead. "I will do what I have always done, Percy Jackson. I will protect Rome. Whatever the cost."
"Even if that means working with me?"
"Even then," Reyna conceded. "The gods have a strange sense of humor, bringing you here, to me. Perhaps it's time I developed one as well."
"Tomorrow," she said as they reached the temple entrance, "I will raise a motion of confidence in the Senate. Regarding your training of the newer demigods."
Percy looked surprised. "After everything we just talked about? You'd vouch for me?"
"I am vouching for Rome's future," Reyna corrected him. "Which, for better or worse, seems to include you now."
They stood for a moment at the threshold. Percy slowly, cautiously, reached out towards her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Reyna smiled. "I don't bite. But—" she added seriously. "I would ask you to move your hand."
"Look," Percy began. "I really am sorry. And I appreciate you caring enough about Rome to put that aside. I promise— I give you my word— that I'll do what's best for Rome. I owe you that."
"You don't owe me anything," Reyna scoffed. "Why should you?"
Percy sighed. "You know that part you said about heroes? About leaving a wreck for others to solve or whatever?"
Reyna nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"Yeah, well. I'm not like that. I think those aren't heroes. They're just jerks but with superpowers. I wronged you in the past, and I want to make up for it. I'll help you with the curse. No matter what it takes."
Reyna felt her eyes water as a flood of unexpected emotions threatened to burst through. Percy must have sensed it.
"Hug?"
"No," Reyna shook her head. "But I appreciate it, Perseus."
"Call me Percy."
"Perseus."
The Son of Neptune smiled. "I knew you'd come around."
"Don't push your luck."
As she watched him walk away across the forum, back straight despite the fatigue she knew he must feel, Reyna felt something shift within her own heart—not quite forgiveness, maybe, but understanding. The beginning of a bridge across a chasm she had thought impassable.
Percy did not have as perfect a life as she had initially suspected. He'd definitely faced his share of loss, that was clear. It was evident in the way he spoke, and how he spoke. Reyna realized with a start that for the first time, she was second-guessing herself.
"Maybe I judged you too harshly, Percy…" she sighed. "But even I can change."
Behind her, the eternal flames of Bellona's temple flickered in the night breeze, casting long shadows that stretched toward New Rome.