'Tis the Damn Season

“I danced for the end of everything I knew and the beginning of everything I did not.”
― Jennifer Saint, Ariadne

April 1813

Pallas // Miss Chase

“Miss Anna Elizabeth Chase, presented by her cousin, the honorable Lord Jason Grace.”

The herald’s sharp voice boomed through the crowded hall. Despite her cousin’s warnings to maintain an air of propriety, Annabeth wore a scowl that caused half of the mothers of the ton to flush with secondhand embarrassment.

“Annabeth,” Jason spoke out of the side of his mouth while somehow maintaining his charming grin. “Don’t do this. Not today.”

She managed to keep her groan of protestation silent as she stood straighter and forced a mostly believable simper. They walked to the front of the long room slowly, watchful eyes appraising her every step. Somehow, she’d managed to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. At twenty-one years of age, Jason had warned her, her options would already be greatly limited. This was her only chance. 

To be perfectly honest, that suited her just fine.

Seasons came and went without her throughout the age of early adolescence, in those lighthearted days when the other ladies of the ton were tripping over themselves to win the hearts of appropriate suitors. Annabeth had been content to sit out year after year, letting the festivities commence and close while she remained uncourted and unwed. Her situation was pleasing enough to her own whims, though it caused Jason many sleepless nights.

Jason, her eldest cousin, had been named conservator to the Chase fortune and estate when Malcolm, Annabeth’s younger brother, had died of fever three winters past, and she had been his ward ever since. He took his role as her guardian seriously, perhaps too seriously. Though only a few years older than her, Jason carried himself with all the pomp and regality of men ten or fifteen years his senior. The title and all that came with it were a seemingly perfect fit and he wore it well. 

Truthfully, she couldn’t find it in herself to be too angry with Jason, regardless of how she detested her situation. It was their reality, whether she liked it or not. Annabeth was, regrettably, a woman— which, of course, meant that her property was no longer her property, and her money no longer her money. 

As much as she loathed to admit it, she knew that Jason had only her best interest in mind as he dragged her down the carpeted aisle toward the judging and observant stare of the Queen. Her startling blue eyes were sharp as they scanned Annabeth from the top of her head to the hem of her pale blue dress.

They came to a stop just a few feet in front of the exhibitionistic Queen. Until that moment, Annabeth had been far too disinterested to notice the dais, but now she wondered how she’d managed to overlook the extravagance of the display. The throne was much larger than she’d expected and was flanked on both sides with live peacocks that perched on matching gold-coloured pillows. The back wall was treated with heavy velvet curtains in deep shades of blue that were bound back with a thick golden cord to reveal an incredibly intricate mosaic inlay in the design of, no surprise, a fan of peacock feathers. 

The Queen herself wore an extravagant gown of gold and emerald, and Annabeth wondered if she always chose her wardrobe specifically to complement her décor. Even the gold and sapphire crown that sat high on her stacked and perfectly pinned raven hair seemed to mirror the plumage of the glassy-eyed birds that rested at the foot of the throne.

“Your Majesty,” Jason said politely as he bowed before the dark haired woman. “I am most honored to present my ward, Miss Chase, for your consideration.”

The regal and intimidating eye of the Queen looked Annabeth over with careful examination. After what felt like a short eternity, she turned her attention back to Jason. “You hardly seem old enough to take on a ward, Lord Grace.” 

“I am her only relative,” Jason went on to explain. “Her parents have long since passed and her last remaining brother joined them three winters ago, I am afraid. But she maintains good spirits, Your Majesty, and is quite looking forward to her first proper Season.”

If Annabeth thought that she could get away with kicking him squarely in the shin, she might have tried. Instead, she simply smiled and offered her best curtsy. “Your Majesty.”

Queen Hera lifted her chin. It was customary for the Queen to issue her opinion in the form of either a scowl or an accepting nod, but neither of those things happened. Instead, the woman rose from her chair, stepping slowly down from the dais. A servant rushed forward to assist her and was promptly swatted away. 

Every eye in the room was glued to Annabeth as the Queen stood directly in front of her. One of the peacocks ruffled, shaking its long feathers— the room was so silent that the sound seemed to echo off of the walls.

“What striking eyes you have,” she said, more to herself than to anyone else in attendance, though every body in the hall seemed to lean in. Queen Hera reached a white-glove forward to take Annabeth’s chin in her hand and tilted her head to one side. A soft tsk slipped from perfectly painted lips as she ran one finger over the raised bit of white skin that was normally easily hidden along her jaw. “A shame about that scar.”

Her mother had held the same opinion of the foolishly earned scar. Ladies don’t have scars, she'd said again and again. Scars were signs of a hard life, something that was clearly below her mother and practically everyone else Annabeth had ever known. She didn’t even have a good excuse for the mark: the thin, hardly noticeable wound was merely a lingering remnant of her rambunctious childhood.

Annabeth felt her patience wearing thin— even more than that, she felt Jason’s anxiety rippling off of him in waves so palpable she was surprised they hadn’t taken on some sort of visible form. She fought to maintain her smile under the keen-eyed scrutiny. 

Finally, the Queen dropped her hand and moved to return to her seat. Once she was settled, she met Jason’s eyes. “Lord Grace,” she said with a hint of venom in her words, “it would behoove you to keep a close watch on your ward. She has a fire in her eyes.”

-

Berkeley Place // Miss Chase

The grand dining table felt even wider tonight. Jason ate like it was his last meal, his blue eyes intense in the candlelight. The crackling hearth fire and the occasional sound of utensils against porcelain were the only sounds in the room. Jason had not uttered so much as a word since they’d left the palace several hours before. Apparently even her best attempt at seeming demure and innocuous had not been enough to put him at ease. 

The Queen’s remarks were neither approving nor criticising, giving way to a third option that no one had been aware of until it was voiced. This previously unknown third critique was a sort of strange middling and was, judging by Jason’s foul mood, evidently the worst of the possible reactions. 

The Queen had all but deemed Annabeth the runt of the litter, the weakest contender on the ton. And though Her Royal Highness’s opinion carried very little influence for Annabeth, it was exceedingly obvious that it was weighing quite heavily on Jason.

“You will have to speak to me eventually,” Annabeth said at last, setting her fork down on the table. 

“Annabeth,” Jason sighed, “I know that you think I am punishing you somehow, but I assure you that I am only doing what is best for you.”

“You do not know what is best for me,” she all but scoffed. 

He looked up finally, meeting her stare. His gaze was as icy as ever, electric blue boring into stormy grey. “I do. And it is past time for you to understand that.”

His words cut in a way that she was not used to. “Jason—”

“I am responsible for your well-being and for your care. Whether it is fair or not, this is our way, Annabeth,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I know what discomfort this brings to you. Do you think that I enjoy seeing you paraded this way?”

His acknowledgement of her unpleasant position stunned her to the point that she had no retort. She was certain that her silence conveyed her emotions.

“You may be surprised to learn that I do not take joy in subjecting you to this ridiculous crucible,” Jason said, shaking his head. “And if you are, that brings me despair greater than I know how to express. I have only ever looked out for your best interest.”

Her eyes flitted back down to her plate as he tossed his napkin from his lap onto the table and rose from his seat. 

“I will be in town on business in the morning,” he said as he started for the doorway, “but I will return in plenty of time to escort you to the opening fete.”

And then he was gone. 

-

Beckendorf Manor // Perseus

The Beckendorf Manor was impressive to say the least.

Each of its spires were topped with a hammered copper finial that reflected the afternoon sun and tall cast-iron smokestacks stood at either end of the house. Its dark brick had been hewn from a local quarry centuries before and was covered in climbing ivy that reminded any onlooker that the home and the family within it had stood longer than living memory— and would continue to do just that. 

He hitched up just inside the front gate, running a hand over the shiny black coat of the horse’s neck as he offered it a sugar cube. When he turned back toward the walk, the Mistress of the house was already on the warpath. 

“Well, well, well,” she said as she approached. Her long dark hair was pinned back elegantly to frame her high features and bright eyes. The robin’s egg blue tint of her dress complimented her golden brown skin perfectly, its embroidered hem skirting the gravel as she continued down the path to meet him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Lady Beckendorf.”

“Please, Percy,” she all but rolled her eyes as she held out her hand. “There is no need for such formality here.”

He thought it ironic, how she discounted propriety even while offering her hand. Thinking better of commenting on it, he swallowed the sarcastic reply and instead brought her delicate hand to his lips. “Silena, then.”

“Thank you,” she grinned before withdrawing her hand. She gestured vaguely toward the lawn where a flurry of action ensued. Servants unloaded crate after crate from what seemed like a never ending line of wagons before carrying the goods into the house. “You’ll have to forgive the chaos. I am hosting a rather important fete tonight.”

“So I have heard.”

“Of course you have! Our gala always marks the start of the Season. I think that you will be quite pleased to learn that I have managed to keep your return to Pallas quiet,” she smiled. “But once word gets out that there is an eligible Duke at the ball—”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s wise, Lady Beck—” Percy paused as she shot him a warning look. “Silena. I am only in town for a few days to clear up a minor importing issue. Untangling Gabriel’s books has proven to be a task most arduous.”

“Ah yes,” Lady Beckendorf nodded. “I heard word of your step-father’s passing.”

She did not pause to offer condolences and he would not have expected it of her. Neither Percy nor Lady Beckendorf were laboring under the pretense that the sudden death of the man that had duped his mother into marriage was a loss worth mourning.

“Indeed,” Percy continued. “I’m afraid that it has complicated some things but I believe it will all be sorted by week’s end.”

“Week’s end?” she echoed before grinning as if she’d caught him in a rather dubious trap. “Then you have no excuse for not attending my ball this evening, Your Grace.” 

He laughed. “I am afraid that I won’t—”

“And I am afraid that I cannot accept your regrets, Perseus,” Lady Beckendorf interrupted. Her intense, chocolate brown eyes seemed to dare him to object. 

It did not seem like a worthwhile endeavor to anger the wife of one of his oldest friends on the day of such an important event. Percy sighed, opening his hands in defeat. “I suppose that I could make a brief appearance.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” she grinned, clasping her hands in delight. “Charles will be so pleased!”

“Speaking of Charles,” he nodded, offering his arm to Lady Beckendorf, “let us go and pester him, shall we?”

-

Berkeley Place // Miss Chase

“Miss Chase,” the handmaid announced. “You have a visitor waiting in the conservatory.”

Annabeth’s brow furrowed as she set her book aside. She wasn’t expecting anyone and with the gala in just a few hours, she wasn’t really in a proper situation to entertain. “Thank you, Mellie,” she said as she rose to her feet. “Has Lord Grace returned?”

“I am afraid not, Miss,” the girl frowned. “I have not received word that he was withheld, however, so I do expect him back at any moment.” Annabeth nodded, content with the explanation as she followed Mellie down the hallway toward the sunny room at the back of the house. As she crossed the threshold, Mellie gestured toward a brunette woman with her back to them. “Miss Philippa McLean.”

The woman turned around, her brown eyes clearly annoyed with the formalities. “Oh, must you use my full name each time, Mellie?”

“Piper!” Annabeth all but squealed, rushing forward as Mellie smiled and politely stepped out of the room. “What are you doing here?”

Piper threw her arms around Annabeth. “I was meant to arrive three days ago but my driver fell ill and we were delayed in Vesta for a few nights while he recovered.”

“I do not care,” she shook her head, laughing. “I am just glad that you are here now.”

Piper sighed as she stepped back from the embrace. She tucked a strand of her loose, brown hair behind her ear. “Well, you know Jason can be very insistent.”

Annabeth tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I suppose he hasn’t told you.”

“Told me what?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Piper drifted toward a shelf of orchids, cupping one blossom delicately as she leaned in to observe it more closely. “We have been exchanging letters for a few months.”

Annabeth swatted her arm. “Piper!”

“Oh, hush,” Piper shushed her. “Nothing like that. He is a good man, Annabeth. He simply sought my advice.”

“Advice about what?” she asked. 

“You,” she said simply. “He wanted advice about you.” The air in the conservatory seemed a bit stifling as Piper turned back to face Annabeth, crossing her hands in front of her. “I am here at his request. He has asked that I wait on you this summer and see you through your first Season.”

Annabeth couldn’t help but scoff. “Have I truly been such a burden to my beloved cousin that he felt he had to write to my friend for assistance?”

“He only wanted to ask my opinion on how to best help you survive the Season,” she sighed. “I told him that he was wasting his time and that he’d be better off if he let you embarrass yourself properly and we could be done with this charade once and for all.”

Annabeth blinked. “Am I meant to find that to be an encouragement?”

“I am not blind. You are not happy here,” Piper soothed, reaching out a hand to rest on Annabeth’s arm. Piper had the distinct benefit of belonging to a title-less family. Her life was not so meticulously orchestrated, her movements not so carefully observed. 

She was only slightly younger than Annabeth, but she had none of the same fears of being cursed by spinsterdom. Piper would be free to design her life in whatever way she chose, she would find her path in her own time and in her own way. And though it held true that she would need to marry to be of any monetary worth, the grand questions of Who and When were far more flexible. 

Annabeth had always sort of envied her for that. 

Piper often wondered why she didn’t just throw it all away. What good was the title if the life that it afforded was so demeaning and oppressive? Annabeth, however, knew her role in the game. 

She was the only surviving child of the Chase family, a badge she wore with much reverence. Disaster and tragedy had touched the earth of her ancestry, poured poison on the roots of the family tree. And still, she survived. Surely God had kept her alive for some purpose. Surely she was meant to carry the legacy into the next generation. Still, even as she understood it, she was torn in half by this divine purpose. 

Her longing to assume the role of the family matriarch that would preserve the Chase bloodline and fortune continually fought against her unwillingness to bend to the whims of this societal melee. It was not so much the concept of marriage that repulsed her, of course. She did desire to marry (eventually) and the idea of children was enchanting for her as well. But the ritual of it all — the Queen’s assessment, the endless parties, the way that she would be forced to be presented like a racing mare at auction — was exhausting. The entire Season turned women against each other, forcing them all to be seen as little more than petty competitors.

Even if the contesting nature of it all was not reprehensible enough in its own right, the timeline was simply absurd. It was not reasonable — as she had continually reminded Jason and Piper and anyone else that would lend her a listening ear — to expect her to find a husband before the summer had even properly arrived. 

But those were the terms. And now, by twisted fate, Jason’s name and reputation and legacy were intertwined with her own so deeply that she would be ruining him if she continued to buck tradition. He had allowed her two Seasons of a reprieve, publicly claiming that she was still too grieved by the loss of her brother to be suited for the festivities while she silently observed the circus from her own window, and now it was time to pay the piper. After all Jason had done for her, she felt that she owed it to him to at least appear to make an attempt.

Jason was in a particularly precarious position. As her guardian, he was responsible for making sure that Annabeth was successful— and the best indicator for success was, of course, securing a desirable offer of marriage. But as her cousin and her friend, he wanted to respect her wishes. 

Annabeth wished for more than the shallow-minded unions that surrounded them. She longed for true companionship with someone that could match wits with her and hold her interest, someone that would be able to not only see to her physical needs, but her mental and emotional ones as well. It was not so much to ask, really, but finding such a match in only a Season’s time was quite the lofty goal.

In all of this, Jason understood her opinion, and even seemed to agree for the most part. But even with his contradicting roles in her life, Jason was, first and foremost, a man of duty. And if it was his duty to see to it that she married — and married well, at that — he would be sure that it was arranged. And so, despite her distaste with the ordeal, she had resolved that she would turn out for the Season and make an effort— if only for his benefit. 

Piper, on the other hand, had never been able to understand. 

“Wouldn’t it be better for you to turn away and live outside of all of this?” she asked. “Come and stay with me in the country for a while. And should you choose to return to the city, you can make your own way.”

“With what money, Piper? With what home? I have no claim to any of my father’s property until I am wed,” she shook her head as she gestured to the room around them. “Even this place that was once my home now shows the name Jason Grace on the deed. If I am not here, I am dead.”

“Jason would not allow it,” Piper protested. “Surely he would see to it that you were cared for.”

“Perhaps he would try.”

“What do you mean?”

Annabeth sighed. “You know as well as I that I cannot own property; I cannot do anything until I am married. It would be better for me to live here as my cousin’s burden and become a spinster.”

“Annabeth, you are no one’s burden,” Piper said quietly. 

“I am not sure that Jason will continue to agree with you for much longer,” Annabeth said simply. She shook her head and began to turn toward the hall. “I must prepare myself for tonight’s affair. Would you care to assist?”

Piper’s shoulders fell. She watched Annabeth’s long skirt graze the marble floor as she made her way out of the room. Almost reluctantly, her feet followed. “Of course.”

-

Beckendorf Manor // Miss Chase

“Tonight is far more important than the debut,” Jason reminded her for the thirtieth time as the carriage rumbled into the semi-circle drive of the Beckendorf Manor. His cheeks were flushed even more than her own, hands twisting anxiously in his lap. The wheels came to a stop just as he took both of her hands in his own. “Please, Annabeth. Just try. That is all I ask.”

Before she had a chance to reply, the carriage door was opened and Jason climbed out. He turned back to offer her a hand as she exited the cab. Once her feet were planted on the stone walk, she smoothed out her blush gown and straightened. Jason gave her an approving nod as they started toward the house.

The inside of the house was even more ostentatious than the frighteningly intimidating exterior. Large crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, illuminating the high walls that were so caringly adorned with intricate gold leafed crown molding. Even the parquet flooring looked to have been painstakingly laid, an alternating pattern of dark and light wood stretching from wall to wall. A haze filled the upper part of the room, smoke from what must have been hundreds of candles.

Along one entire wall, a huge buffet was spread across several long tables offering all sorts of fruits, petit fours, and countless other hors d'oeuvres. Dutiful servants stood at the ready to assist in the pouring of drinks, and even more servers roamed the room offering trays with sparkling flutes of champagne.

It was true, what they said: the Lady Beckendorf knew how to throw a party.

The music was lively and the first dance was already underway when Annabeth and Jason appeared in the doorway. As they descended the staircase into the ballroom, Jason seemed to grow more and more tense. She wondered if it was improper that she even dared to show her face after such a poor debut. Jason had assured her that the Queen’s opinion was merely a starting point, a preliminary wager that was free to be challenged by anyone audacious enough— and Jason Grace was nothing if not audacious.

Still, the murmur that seemed to filter through the room caused a fresh rose blush to rise in the apples of her cheeks. Her heartbeat felt loud in her ears. “They’re all staring.”

Jason gave her a quick, charming grin. “Let them.”

It was an easy thing for him to say; he was not the one being auctioned off. 

By the time they reached the bottom of the staircase, the attention that they had drawn had more or less dissipated. The room was writhing with activity and vibrant conversation, and the dancing looked so inviting that even Annabeth was looking forward to joining in.

Surprisingly, it did not take long for some of the young men to begin approaching her. She and Jason had only been gathered for a few moments when a tall, skinny man made his way toward her. He gave her a shallow bow before he turned his attention to Jason. 

“Lord Grace,” he said, extending a hand. 

“Octavian,” Jason answered, his voice uncharacteristically cold. Annabeth noticed how he did not accept the handshake. “I suppose you have already met my cousin, Anna.” 

She tried not to be annoyed by his use of ‘Anna’. It was her name, after all— but after one and twenty years of answering to the less formal Annabeth, she had grown to chafe against the moniker. The only people that referred to her as Anna were long dead and she had hoped that perhaps the name would have died with them. 

“Of course,” Octavian smiled, though it looked more like a sneer on his face. “I believe we were introduced at your last assembly.”

Annabeth did not much care for the feeling that she was getting from Octavian’s sly smirk. His eyes appeared jaundiced, yellowing around the faint blue irises, and his sharp features looked far too rodent-like. When he spoke, she detected a hint of something sour: the distinct scent of someone who had quite recently overindulged.

“I fear your advances will not earn you any friends here, Octavian,” Jason said tersely, and no one missed the implication of his words. Annabeth’s eyes widened at her cousin’s bluntness but she maintained her silence. “It would be best if you were on your way.”

Octavian’s face flushed, which looked stark against his nearly translucent skin. Words seemed to escape him— or rather, they knotted on the end of his serpent tongue and failed to project. He gave Annabeth a curt nod of acknowledgement before he turned and practically ran in the opposite direction.

“Octavian is a drunkard and a waste,” Jason said as the man skittered away, probably to find some other corner to darken for the evening. “His family has all but denounced him.”

“That would explain the eyes,” Annabeth replied, noting the telltale signs of an abused liver. 

“Indeed,” he agreed. “I am glad he surrendered so easily. It would not help your cause to be seen associating with him. Why don’t we take a turn about the room and see if we can’t fill out your card before the next dance, hm?”

Annabeth could think of about a thousand other things that she would prefer doing but she remembered her agreement to try. She nodded and took Jason’s arm as he led her around the edge of the dancefloor. 

Every few steps Jason would pause to exchange niceties with some noble or other, usually taking the opportunity to introduce her to whichever men were eligible suitors and pencil their names onto her dance card. As they continued to circle, he pointed out some of the men currently on the dancefloor, informing her which ones were worthwhile and which had questionable intent. 

“Why do you say that?” she asked after he had pointed out one of the men, claiming that he was a swindler and to be avoided. 

“You would note that he has given attention to only three young ladies this evening,” Jason stated and she wondered how he managed to be so observant all the time. His mind was a marvel— it was why they kept company so well. “Miss Blackstone, Miss Tanaka, and yourself— all of which have sizable dowries.” 

Ah, yes. The ever-present burden of the dowry. 

Annabeth would, of course, carry quite a sum into her marriage— if she ever married, of course. Her family had always been wealthy; she’d known that to be true even before she’d truly understood what it meant. The privilege afforded her many comforts, but all good things came to an end eventually, and it seemed only fitting that what had made her life so simple for so long would now be the thing that added such complications.

“Lord Grace,” a deep, velvety voice broke through the chatter. When Annabeth turned, she was face to face with a handsome, broad shouldered black man and one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. 

“Lord Beckendorf,” Jason said as he bowed. “Lady Beckendorf.”

“I am so glad to see you this evening,” Lady Beckendorf smiled. She met Annabeth’s eyes. “Miss Chase, it is an honor to meet you at last. We have heard much about you from your cousin.” 

“Nothing too damning, I hope,” she grinned as she offered a shallow curtsy to the hosts. Thankfully, the couple laughed at her joke. “Thank you for inviting us to your home.”

“My wife enjoys planning parties,” Lord Beckendorf laughed. He had a bright smile that made Annabeth feel much more at ease. “And I enjoy the refreshments.”

“Why is your charming cousin not on the dancefloor, Lord Grace?” the Lady asked. “You aren’t planning to keep her restrained all evening, I hope.”

“Certainly not,” Jason shook his head. “I’ve merely been getting her acquainted with her prospects. Anna’s nearly filled her card already— I fear her attention will be elsewhere for most of the evening.”

“I should hope so,” Lady Beckendorf nodded. “It would be a shame to see such a lovely flower be left to wilt.” 

At that, the Lord and Lady politely excused themselves so that they might speak to more of their guests, and Annabeth was left with only Jason once more. 

“I’m feeling a bit parched,” she said. 

“Of course,” Jason nodded. “Allow me to—”

“Lord Grace,” a man interrupted. Jason turned as the owner of the voice, a strong, towering man with dark eyes and a kind face, approached. He stood several inches taller than Jason who was himself of considerable height.

“Lieutenant Zhang,” Jason noted with a bow. “So good to see you. My apologies— I was just about to attend to my cousin.”

“No, no,” she insisted. “You’ve done enough, I can go for myself. I will return shortly.”

Jason gave her a nod of acknowledgement before he went back to conversing with the Lieutenant. She was grateful for the break, exhaling fully for the first time since they’d arrived. Annabeth all but floated toward the nearest server, gratefully accepting a glass of champagne before turning back to observe the room.

Piper would have loved this. Watching the girls, doe-eyed and dewy-faced, offering their batted lashes and coy smiles to the men who were all clearly in competition with each other to see who could charm the most women. From this vantage point, she could clearly see Miss Katerina Gardiner simpering coquettishly alongside Miss Laurel Victor, a gaggle of men assembled in their midst. 

She took a sip of champagne, hiding her smirk behind the glass. All around her, men cast challenging glances at one another as each attempted to swoon whichever lady they had deemed to be most desirable, and the ladies all shined in response to their preening. The entire scene was humorous.

“It is truly laughable, isn’t it?” Annabeth turned toward the man that had appeared at her right, startled by his sudden presence. He was staring at her with ice-blue eyes, a polite smile on his lips. “The way that they all preen and posture, I mean.”

“Lord Castellan,” she said, surprising even herself that she could recall his name at all. “I did not expect to see you here.”

“And why might that be?” 

She had not prepared a response. In truth, she wasn’t sure why she’d even said it, other than it had served to fill an otherwise awkward silence. He was unmarried and a Lord in his own right, it actually would have been more surprising if he hadn’t been in attendance. Her mind rallied for a reply.

“Only that I thought you might have better ways to fill your time,” Annabeth attempted, knowing it was a foolish thing to say even before the words left her mouth. 

To her surprise, he laughed. “You have always amused me, Miss Chase,” Lord Castellan smirked. He had deep frown lines that did not suit him. “I have always found you to be a captivating partner for conversation, and a beauty, if I should say so. I can recall so easily my days in school, back when you were—”

“A child,” she supplied, her jaw set tightly though her lips managed a neutral expression. Lord Castellan did nothing but continue to smile in her direction and her skin felt hot beneath his gaze. His presence was not comforting and she longed for escape. 

He did not reply, merely bringing his glass to his still-smirking lips. It was plain that he was shameless, letting his eyes look over her body without even attempting to hide it. A small pang of nerves made itself clearly known, flipping her stomach onto itself. 

“I fear I must go,” she said, already beginning to turn away. “My cousin summons me.”

She abandoned her still mostly full glass of champagne, discarding it on the table before she hurried away. Halfway across the ballroom, she could still feel his eyes. And then, she realized that he was following her. 

Her steps came faster as she focused her eyes on the floor and pushed through the crowd. Still the voice of her pursuer reached her ears. “Miss Chase! A moment, please!”

She glanced back only long enough to gauge the distance between herself and the determined man that was still in pursuit. The urgency of his tone frightened her, her pulse quickening as she longed for Jason’s hovering presence for once. Annabeth looked back just in time to see that there was no time to prevent running headfirst into the man.

“Hmf—” a grumbling voice met her ears as two strong hands gripped her arms and steadied her. She looked up to see that the man she’d collided with was eyeing her as well. 

Unfortunately, he was handsome— very handsome. She was immediately taken aback by the sharpness of his features and how they complemented his strong jaw and high cheeks, of how his dark hair suited his deep olive skin. 

“Pardon me,” she said quickly. Her embarrassment was plain on her face, mortified by her clumsiness. “I am not usually so inattentive.”

“You are forgiven,” he said, his face nearly unreadable. His gaze was still on her as she glanced back, still incredibly aware of Lord Castellan’s presence. 

“What is your name, sir?” she requested, looking back quickly.

He raised an eyebrow. “My name?”

“Is that such an audacious request?”

“I suppose not,” the man said, a dry laugh wrapping around his words. “Though I find it difficult to believe that you do not already know my name.” 

Annabeth’s brow knitted in confusion. She didn’t have time to dwell on the strange response: Lord Castellan had nearly caught up to her. She turned back toward the stranger, touching his arm lightly and faking a boisterous laugh. 

“If you truly desired an introduction, Miss, surely there were better ways,” he said, his voice low and heavy with warning. Annabeth glanced over her shoulder, content to see that Lord Castellan was nowhere to be found. When she looked back, she was struck suddenly by the intensity of the stranger’s eyes, sea green and full of fervor. “This sort of accosting is—”

“Accosting?” she gawked, offended. “Sir, I think you have mistaken me. This is not—”

“Jackson?”

Jason’s voice interrupted the exchange as they both looked toward the sound. The recognition thawed his cold glare only slightly, his attention now affixed to Jason. A smile came to his lips but it was measured— tight-lipped and forced, with an intent that did not meet his eyes. 

“Jackson, my old friend,” Jason said again as he came to a stop at Annabeth’s side. The sentiment of friend did not seem to accompany the greeting, however. He reached forward, shaking the other man’s hand firmly. “It has been quite some time since our paths last crossed.”

“Some time indeed,” the man called Jackson agreed with a smile that, once again, did not seem to be fitting of the situation. He had a glint in his eye, something mischievous and beckoning.

Jason’s expression remained carefully reserved now as he continued to address the other man. “I have heard news of your step-father. My condolences.”

“Condolences are wholly unnecessary.” At that, at least, both men shared a quiet laugh, a telltale sign of an unspoken inside joke that Annabeth did not understand. “Truly, it was the greatest thing that he has ever done— at least now he has been made useful by returning his body to the earth.”

Annabeth looked between them with a perplexed expression. Jason had never spoken of any colleagues or associates by the name of Jackson, and she was sure that she would remember such a face if she had seen it around the estate or even about the ton. With those facts, she could only assume that the man was not local to Pallas, though that did little to explain the nature of the agitated relationship that seemed to exist between him and Jason.

“I see that you have already met my ward, Anna Chase,” Jason said, gesturing toward her. “Anna, this is Perseus Jackson, the Duke of Argos.” 

“Your ward?” the Duke clarified, raising an eyebrow.

“My cousin,” Jason explained. He gave her a smile. “As we seem to be quite adept at outliving our relatives, we appear to be stuck with each other.”

“Your Grace,” she smiled, attempting a shallow curtsy in greeting, though the man merely smirked in response.

Jason cleared his throat. “Anna, Jackson and I know each other from our time at University.” 

Annabeth cocked an eyebrow at her cousin, surprised that he would refer to a noble without their due honorific, regardless of the personal relation. It was not like him to be so informal, particularly in such a formal and public setting. 

“Days that we will not soon forget,” Perseus responded, giving Jason a knowing smile. 

Jason looked embarrassed, as if he had not intended for Annabeth to ever hear of his antics. It was exciting to see the troublemaking spark in the stranger’s eyes, hinting that there might be more to her straight-laced, no-nonsense cousin than she knew. 

“I am sure those days were quite… exciting,” Annabeth replied. The Duke eyed her curiously and she held his stare. “I should like to hear about them sometime.”

“I’m afraid that I must show my cousin to the dancefloor, Jackson,” Jason interrupted, “but I expect I will see you at the club.”

“Of course,” Perseus nodded, before turning his attention back to Annabeth. He paused for only a moment before he stepped forward, reaching for the dance card on her wrist and glancing over it. There was, she knew without looking, one blank space remaining. “Quite a fine lineup you have secured, Miss Chase. I would not deny these men the opportunity to entertain your company, but if you are unable to find a partner for that last number, I hope you will pencil me in.”

Jason laughed stiffly as he offered Annabeth his arm. She obliged, taking it as they turned in the opposite direction without another parting word. As Jason steered her away, she allowed herself a momentary glance back at the Duke.

Sea green eyes followed her every move. 

“Because that was the problem with society.
It cared too much about who you fell in love with, but never about why.
The why matters.”
― L.J. Shen, Defy

Beckendorf Manor // Perseus

Much to the delight of the young Duke, the party was proving to be far more interesting than he’d been anticipating. Lady Beckendorf had kept true to her word and had managed to keep most of the over-eager mothers away— though he did get roped into sharing one dance with someone’s cousin or other. (The rumor mill seemed to maintain that she had quite an impressive dowry, but Percy quickly learned that her dowry was the only impressive thing about her.)

For most of the evening, he was able to keep a comfortable distance, never standing in one place for too long lest he be spotted and ambushed. He’d been expecting that he might see some of his old friends and acquaintances, though running into Jason Grace had been a particularly surprising exchange. 

And then, of course, there was the girl.

Thinking back, he did seem to remember hearing that Jason had taken in a ward some years back. What he hadn’t realized at the time, however, was that this ‘ward’ was actually a grown woman— and a lovely one, at that. This was how he came to know Miss Anna Chase.

She was a nice young woman with nice features, and nice ancestry, and a nice name that didn’t seem to suit her quite right. As Jason wheeled her around the room, she maintained a pleasantly distracted gaze. 

Despite reality, he truly hadn't been meaning to watch her so closely but he found it hard to pull his eyes away. Miss Chase was nothing short of captivating as she moved like water, turning and gliding easily as the roster of men took their turns maneuvering her around the dancefloor. Her heavily embroidered skirts hardly grazed the wood as she turned and hopped and put all of the other dancers to shame.

She cared not for the men that whispered flattering words and rested gentle hands on her waist. Her desire was only for the music and the movements that accompanied the sounds, with little care for her partner. She feigned interest so convincingly he almost believed it— almost. Still, there was something fighting behind that stormy stare of hers, something that he wanted to see more of. 

Fight was so rare in their world.

The song came to an end and she gave her partner a polite curtsy before she retreated to the edge of the dancefloor. The short, ginger maestro stood to announce to the room that the last dance of the evening would begin shortly and his eyes were fixed to her. She glanced quickly through the crowd and he realized with not a little mirth that she was searching for him. 

He stepped toward her, a smug grin on his face. When she looked in his direction, she did not look entirely displeased. “Miss Chase,” he said, bowing. 

Her lips concealed a smirk. “Your Grace.” 

“Am I right in assuming you require a partner for the final dance?”

Though they both knew fully well that it was an empty gesture, she glanced at the card on her wrist anyway. “It does appear that way,” she said with a nod that sent her perfect curls bouncing. “Am I right in assuming that you wish to fill the role?”

She was quick— her eyes were sharp and her tongue sharper, still. He couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips as he repeated her words back to her. “It does appear that way.” 

Percy held a hand out for her as the conductor tapped his baton on the top of his music stand to signal that the dance was about to begin. Anna slipped her gloved hand into his and together they walked out onto the dancefloor. 

The floor was crowded with party-goers looking to truly earn their blisters. Even the Lord and Lady Beckendorf had made their way into the center of the room— and while the act of spouses dancing together would usually be frowned upon at an event such as this, it seemed that everyone was content to turn a blind eye for this final number.

As the reel began, he found himself engrossed in her bright eyes, virtually incapable of thinking of much else. She knew the steps so innately that her feet moved without her having to tell them where to go, leaving her mind free to continue to eye him suspiciously. 

“Do you always give your partners such a cold glare, Miss Chase?” he asked. “You remind me of your cousin with that sour expression.”

“Not at all, Your Grace,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly. “Only when they have earned one.”

“And what, pray tell, have I done to deserve such open hostility?” he chuckled. “We have only just met.”

Miss Chase’s porcelain shoulders shrugged as they followed the intricate motions. “My cousin is a particularly good judge of character,” she answered as they passed again, palm to palm as they turned around one another. “If he is suspicious of you, I feel it would be foolish of me not to mirror his sentiment.”

He raised a brow. She was clever, he’d gathered as much, but she was perceptive as well. The tight words exchanged by the men in their earlier encounter had not escaped her notice— though, with Jason being so tightly wound, he doubted she would have been able to miss it. “Is that so?” Percy asked, opting not to deny her claim. 

Her answer was merely a smirk as she stepped toward her first corner partner, a slender man with dark hair and dark eyes. His own corner partner was none other than Miss Tanaka, the Season’s universally agreed upon incomparable. Percy noticed with a quiet amusement that she seemed quite perturbed to not be the focus of his attention as they turned up the line. 

The rest of the dance passed in relative silence save for a spare comment here or there. As the final note faded to an end, the room applauded their musicians and the quiet conversation of the dispersing attendees replaced the strains.

“I should look forward to dancing with you again,” he said politely as she extended her hand. He took it gently, the satin glove feeling coarse as rough hewn stone as he wondered briefly what her hand might feel like in his, and brought it to his lips. “Miss Chase.”

“Your Grace.”

“Anna,” Jason’s voice met his ear but his eyes were fixed to hers. She did not look away. “I fear it is time for us to take our leave.” 

“Of course, cousin,” she said at last, though her grey eyes lingered on his for a moment more before turning her attention to her escort. “I was merely wishing His Grace a pleasant evening.”

“Indeed,” Percy said, shifting his own gaze to Jason now. “Your cousin is a lovely dancer— I look forward to our next meeting, Lord Grace.”

“Yes, I am quite aware of Anna’s talents,” Jason said, his words clipped and sharp. He offered an arm to Miss Chase and she accepted it, though her brow dipped with a confused scowl. Jason’s jaw was tight as he nodded in Percy’s direction. “I’m afraid it is past time for our departure, Your Grace. Good evening.”

He whisked her away without another word and Percy let his eyes shift to the floor, the room feeling somehow dimmer with her light now gone. They were long absent from the ballroom when the Lady Beckendorf arrived at his side. 

“I dare to say my eyes must have played a devious trick on me, Your Grace,” she said with a knowing lilt and a gentle raise of her brow. “If I had not known better, I would say that you were enjoying yourself this evening.” 

“Your vision is as keen as ever, Silena,” he said with a sigh as he raised his gaze finally. “Though I believe that the hosts of such an affair are to be credited for such a surprising turn.”

“I will take what I can get from you,” Lady Beckendorf laughed. “I hope we can expect to see you at the next ball. There are many lovely ladies turning out this Season— perhaps one may catch your eye after all.”

The vapid women of the ton were not to his desire. Only Miss Anna Chase had held his attention for more than a moment, and only Percy’s rotten luck could be blamed for her relation to Jason Grace. He could think only of the cold definitiveness of Jason’s eye as he dragged Miss Chase away, a silent decree that he would stand between them at any given opportunity— and if Percy could not dance with her, he had no interest in such festivities. 

“I know that you enjoy arranging such conspiracies, my lady, but I must maintain my objection,” Percy answered with an apologetic smile. “My business has called me here to Pallas momentarily, but I fear it would be unwise to ignore my province for an entire Season.”

It was a thin excuse, one he was sure that Lady Beckendorf could see through without the help of a lamp, but he hoped it would suffice. Her painted lips parted, then met again in an understanding sort of acceptance. “Of course, Your Grace.”

“I thank you for the invitation, Silena,” he said, bowing as he took a step away. “I must retire for the evening. I expect we will not see each other at breakfast either— Charles has agreed to accompany me on a hunt.”

“Well, wonders will never cease,” Lady Beckendorf replied. “I will see you upon your return, then.”

“Farewell.” Percy gave her one last smile before he turned and made his way out of the Manor. 

-

Berkeley Place // Miss Chase

Morning had arrived at Berkeley Place and the house was alight with activity as the inhabitants prepared to receive callers. The drawing room would be welcoming a number of suitors and the workers of the house were busy making all of the necessary arrangements and shining every surface until it sparkled. 

In the upper rooms, Anna Elizabeth Chase and her handmaid Mellie bickered quietly over an acceptable gown before Phillipa McLean stepped in to choose once and for all. With the matter settled, Annabeth was quickly dressed and settled in to have her hair set and her face made up. 

There was a buzz of excitement in the room that Annabeth herself could not quite believe— even she was surprised to realize how much she was looking forward to entertaining the callers. Perhaps they would all be putting on airs in an attempt to win her favor, but the promise of stimulating conversation was too appealing to turn down.

“Is it true, then?” Piper urged, her fingers alight with excitement as they placed pins carefully into Annabeth’s hair. “The women at market this morning,” she continued, “they spoke only of you and the Duke.”

“I fear our affair has been quite exaggerated if we are the subject of such widespread rumor, Piper,” Annabeth denied, her eyes rolling slightly. “It is true that we shared a dance, but I assure you that is the full depth of the matter. In fact, I am inclined to believe it will be our only exchange.”

“To be sure?” she asked, continuing to fuss over a particularly rebellious tendril of golden hair that refused to obey. “Is he as brutish as they say?”

“I cannot speak to that,” Annabeth said, shaking her head only slightly to avoid interrupting Piper’s diligent work. The rumors she had heard regarding the Duke’s harshness and overall poor reputation did not seem to align with the man that she had met the night before, but she was not prepared to take a stand against them either. “I only know that he and Jason have something of a shared history— one that is apparently marred enough to have birthed some sort of animosity. I have never seen Jason so caged as he was at the mere notion of my being introduced to the Duke.”

“Most intriguing, isn’t it?” Piper all but giggled, letting her hands fall away as she stepped back to admire her handiwork at last. “I am always curious as to what matters could divide men. You do not think it a woman, do you?”

“Surely not,” Annabeth scoffed. “I can hardly imagine Jason caring enough about such things at this time to let it fester so— and even if he did, I feel that they could not possibly be interested in the same type of woman.”

“You glean this much from one dance, Annabeth?” Piper smirked, assisting her friend as she rose from the bench in front of her mirror. “Or have you been worrying your mind with possibilities?”

“It is too much not to wonder,” she shook her head. “If only you had seen it, then perhaps you could help me to unravel the source of the feud.” 

“Oh, it is a feud now?” Piper raised an amused eyebrow. When Annabeth shot her an annoyed look, she could only laugh. “Forgive me. Our matter is evolving so quickly; I am only trying to keep pace.”

“It is not as you say,” she sighed, smoothing the front of her gown as she observed her reflection in the mirror. The dress that Piper had chosen for her to wear that morning was a pleasant shade of lavender, one that would complement her eyes in the sunny confines of the drawing room. “I am simply intrigued by what must have occurred for Jason to have such a poor opinion of the man. You will help me to find the root of it, to be sure?”

“Of course I will,” Piper smiled simply, resting her hands behind her back. “I am nothing if not a horrible gossip.”

“This I know well,” Annabeth laughed as she lifted the lid of her jewelry chest and picked out the first bauble that caught her eye. 

“Might I impart another assumptive question?” 

“I suppose that is your right,” she smiled as she affixed the pearls to her ears. “If there is an answer to your question that I can supply, trust that I will.”

“I wonder whatever has become of the boy you wrote of so long ago,” Piper mused, drifting toward the dressing table and lowering herself onto the bench. “I have not heard you speak of him in some time. You were once close, if I am not mistaken.”

“Your recollection is true. He is still in close neighborhood,” Annabeth answered. “Upon his brother’s death, he assumed responsibility for the family’s farmlands, so his time has been consumed. We do not have opportunity or cause for meeting often these days.”

“I had not heard of his passing,” Piper frowned. “Connor must have been much bereaved.”

“It was an adjustment for everyone, to be sure. I do not think he fancies himself a worker of the land,” Annabeth said with a soft laugh, “but he is making the best of his new responsibilities, as of our last conversation.”

“I see,” she nodded, folding her hands in her lap as she watched Annabeth fasten her necklace, situating a small diamond in the hollow of her throat. “And he is not the object of your affection?”

“Piper, you suppose much,” Annabeth balked, turning with a flush in her cheeks. “We were childhood acquaintances, nothing more.”

“Jason tells me—”

“Jason knows nothing of the matter,” she interrupted. “Connor has been gone from Pallas for nearly as long as Jason has been my guardian. They have scarcely brushed elbows, much less had cause for any meaningful interaction.”

“But you do not object to the notion that you could care for him?” Piper continued, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you certain that you could only ever be friends and nothing more?”

“I… I am unsure,” Annabeth admitted. She considered it for a while, letting the question linger in her mind while she attempted to reach a conclusion on the matter herself. “I am not confident that I would notice the difference.”

At that, Piper could not contain her laughter. “The difference? My, Annabeth— how I worry for you at times. How can you not distinguish amiable company from romantic intent?”

“I have never been drawn to romantic types,” she replied, feeling a stark need to defend herself against her friend’s humored response. Her cheeks reddened slightly at the teasing. “You know well that I have only just begun to entertain the idea that I might marry at all— what use would I have had for romantic pursuits before this very Season?”

“Your cousin’s severity has rubbed off on you, I fear,” Piper sighed. “I risk being thrown from the estate, I am sure, but I wonder if you might consider giving Connor Stoll your hand— were he to ask for it, of course.”

Annabeth was caught entirely off guard by the turn that Piper’s questioning had taken. It was all so confusing, being presented with a new probability that was so different from the one that she had always known to be so. “I could, perhaps,” she said at last. “He would make as good a husband as any, verily. We would be rich in laughter. I would never want for entertaining conversation, at least.”

“There is far more to a marriage than conversation,” she smirked, making no attempt to hide her true meaning. “And I am sure that all of that work on the farm has made him quite strong—”

“Oh, hush now,” Annabeth sighed, swatting at Piper’s arm lightly. “You are being crass. I have answered your most hypothetical of inquiries— now, leave it to rest.”

“It is not any matter of consequence, I suppose,” Piped laughed to herself. “I merely ask out of curiosity. I find it difficult to believe that a farmer could compete with a Duke.”

“You continue to make lofty assumptions,” Annabeth frowned. “I assure you that the Duke has as little interest in me as I have in him. I do not know what I will do with your company this summer if this is what I am to expect of you.”

“You will endure it as you always have, pet. Now come,” Piper grinned, hurrying to rise and half-skipping toward the bedroom door. “Let us venture to the drawing room to await the hoard of unfortunate hopefuls that will barter for your attention. Perhaps we can incite a squabble.”

-

Berkeley Place // Lord Grace

Jason Grace was not a nurturer by nature. The act of caregiving did not come easily to him, though he worked tirelessly to make it so. Annabeth was an adult in her own right, merely three years his junior, and treating her as he would a child did not suit him one bit. He struggled beneath his responsibility to her, though he tried to shield her from that reality as often as he was able. But some duties were unavoidable.

Such were the tasks set before him on that April morning as he dressed and steeled himself to chaperone her visitation with the morning’s callers. Piper had informed him that Annabeth’s less than successful debut and appraisal had all but been forgotten thanks to her appearance with the Duke of Argos at the Beckendorf ball— a fact that brought out as much ire as it did relief. As such, Jason knew that the drawing room would likely be ripe with suitors and she would be expected to entertain each one.

Should the Duke show his face, Jason was unsure what recourse would be suitable. He had no love for the man, but could he deny Annabeth the opportunity to marry nobility if that was what she desired? It would fulfill his responsibility to her, to be sure, and then he would, perhaps, be able to consider his own future without continuing to agitate the stress ulcer in his gut. But the very thought of allowing such a union to exist, even for a momentary hypothetical in his worried mind, was enough to aggravate his sensibilities. 

Jason decided it was a problem best left for another time. 

From the moment the doors were opened, Annabeth entertained her visitors with a politeness that Jason had not witnessed before. There was a gentleness to her that he could only assume was brought out of her desire to hold up her end of their agreement— that she would try. It did not seem like much, he knew— but for his cousin, it was everything. 

She smiled and returned the polite conversation, careful to maintain an appropriately guarded gaze. A dozen men must have come to call at Berkeley Place that morning, and Jason was quite relieved to see that Jackson was not among them. He knew that the Duke was not a serious candidate for Annabeth’s hand, but he would not put it past Jackson to try and needle her guardian anyway.

Jason kept his distance, allowing for a respectful breadth between himself and the hopeful visitors. He was content to stay in his seat, reclining in the high-backed occasional chair as he observed the conversation and monitored the general mood of the room. That was precisely why it was so surprising when he was disturbed. 

“Lord Grace,” the man said, offering a nod to Jason as he approached. “I had hoped that I might steal a moment of your time.”

“I am quite occupied at present, Lord Castellan,” he said, gesturing toward the opposite end of the room where Annabeth was smiling politely at a short man that was telling a story with animated gestures. “My ward consumes my attentions.”

“Conveniently, it is your ward that I wish to discuss, my lord,” Lord Castellan continued, lowering his voice slightly. “I plan to ask for her hand.”

“To be sure?” Jason balked, openly surprised and making no effort to conceal his reaction. “At this point in the Season?”

“I have admired her from afar for some time,” he said, looking up the room at the woman that had captivated the men assembled around her. “I was quite relieved to learn that she has finally opened her mind to marriage. I do not wish to prolong the ruse and see no reason that either of us should be forced to endure the motions of the Season when they are so wholly unnecessary.”

Jason could do nothing but stare in response. It was practically unheard of to have proposals issued so early in the Season, when even the first wave of callers had not yet receded. It was audacious— and not in a complimentary way. He rose to his feet slowly, sliding his hands into his pockets as he stepped toward the caller. “Speak clearly what it is that you intend, Lord Castellan.”

The man straightened, puffing his chest ever so slightly. He was reasonably tall, but even he had to raise his chin in order to meet Jason’s eye. “I wish to marry Anna Elizabeth and I have come to seek your approval, Lord Grace,” he said. “She will be well cared for, I can assure you.”

The words felt like a prophecy, one that he did not wish to hear. Thoughts and rumors swirled in his head, things he had never taken time to sort out because he had never before had any need to. Jason shook his head. “I fear I cannot discuss this at present,” he managed after a time. “Allow me a time to consider the matter and we can reconvene at a later date. Is that agreeable, my lord?”

It was apparent from the first instant that Lord Castellan was not pleased with the response, but he did not seem intent on causing a scene. His eyes traveled back toward the fireplace and the remaining suitors there before he gave Jason a shallow bow. “Of course, Lord Grace. I await your correspondence.”

“Very well,” Jason nodded curtly. “Good day to you, then.”

Lord Castellan frowned at the short dismissal but he turned anyway and exited through the rear door of the drawing room. The moment he had crossed the threshold, Jason exhaled a shaky breath. “Mellie,” he called, raising a hand to gain Annabeth’s handmaid’s attention. When she had come to a stop in front of him, he leaned forward. “See the men out, if you will, and be sure to aid Miss Chase with her wardrobe,” he requested, his voice barely above a whisper. “And ask Miss McLean to meet me in the conservatory. Privately.”

“Should I inform Miss Chase—”

“No,” Jason shook his head. “There is a matter I mean to discuss with Phillipa alone.”

Mellie nodded. “My apologies, my lord,” she said sweetly. “I will see that it is so.”

Jason swallowed, a heat rising on his neck as he hurried from the room and made his way to the conservatory. His fingers twitched and he found himself incapable of refraining from tugging hastily at the sides of his cravat, loosening the knot until he felt he could breathe again. Anxious feet paced the tiles, a hand to his mouth as he waited for his cousin’s friend to arrive. 

“Lord Grace?” Piper called out warily as she entered the room. “You summoned me?”

“I did,” he answered, stepping back from the rows of potted flowers and hanging orchids as he made his way toward her. “I have… news.”

“News?” she asked, a look of complete and utter confusion crossing her face in an instant. “What has this news to do with me, my lord?”

“Pippa, it is just us,” Jason said quietly, running a hand through his hair. He was coming entirely undone at the unexpected proposal, his nerves sending a slight tightness to his voice. “Please, let us speak to each other as we do in our letters. The time for such formality has passed.”

Brown eyes seemed to take him in, noticing his appearance and behavior for the first time. “Jason, what is it that has disturbed you so?” she asked, her voice soft. “What has happened?”

“Lord Lukas Castellan,” Jason spat, unable to disguise his annoyance any longer. “He has asked for my permission to ask Annabeth for her hand.”

“And you have given it?” she asked quickly, her eyes widening in surprise.

“No, of course not,” he sighed. “But I do not know that my attempts to hold him off will continue to prove successful for much longer. He will be requiring my answer soon.”

Piper seemed to consider that for a moment. “Forgive my ignorance,” she mused, “but is it so bad a match? He is titled, is he not?”

Jason scowled. “I am uncertain, to be entirely honest. I have heard rumors of his lineage,” he explained, “but I cannot be sure how much truth they contain. And regardless, it would be unwise to promise Annabeth to someone so early in the Season— not when half of the ton is already vying for her affection. She will have her choice of suitors; I would be cruel to take that from her.”

“Jason,” Piper said after a brief pause, “what is it that you require of me?”

“Explore Annabeth’s mind,” he answered. “See if she finds Lord Castellan at all agreeable. If she seems interested in the match, it might do us all well to allow him to court her and put the frivolity behind us at once.”

“She has said naught to me, but I assure you that I will pester the truth out of her,” Piper promised, trying to cheer him with a soft smile. “You are good to see to her desires, Jason.”

“It is the least that I can do,” Jason shook his head, running a hand nervously over her mouth again. “I hate that I must subject her to the afflictions of this ordeal at all. Considering her opinion seems like the only fair way to proceed from this juncture.”

“That is why I say that you are good,” she clarified. “You care so deeply for her happiness that you lose sleep over it. Even the premise of forcing her into an arrangement that she may not appreciate has you ill with worry. How many guardians and escorts can say the same?”

Jason studied her, lingering on her vibrant eyes and pinkened cheeks. “You are a good friend, Pippa.”

“I have had a remarkable example in Annabeth,” she replied. After a moment, she took a step forward, resting her hand on Jason’s upper arm lightly as she tilted her head toward him. “And in you.”

“Lord Grace,” Mellie called from the doorway. Piper stepped back quickly, withdrawing her hand as if she had been burned. “There is a delivery for Miss Chase. She is taking her rest upstairs— shall I see to it that she is informed?”

“Miss McLean and I will see that it is received, Mellie,” Jason said, clearing his throat as he reached to straighten his neck cravat. “Thank you for the notice.”

“Of course, my lord,” she said with a nod as she turned and hurried off in the direction of the stairs. 

Jason started toward the hall without another word, his cheeks burning at the embarrassment of their private exchange being interrupted by Mellie. Piper followed, seemingly unbothered as she walked at his side silently. When they reached the entry, a messenger was waiting. 

“Lord Grace,” the boy said. He could not have been more than twelve, a mop of sandy blonde hair sheltering ruddy cheeks and freckles. He held a great vase in his arms, an arrangement of lilacs and peonies so vast that the messenger was hardly able to see over top of them overflowing from the vessel. “A delivery for Miss Anna Chase.”

Jason hurried to take the flowers from the boy, worried that he might drop them at any moment. “Thank you,” he said with a nod. “And who has sent you?”

The boy held out a card which Piper took with a nod of appreciation. “I was only given this, sir.”

Piper looked to Jason for permission and after he had nodded, she set to opening the sealed envelope. Jason turned back to the messenger. “Very good,” he said. “Thank you for your careful delivery.”

The young boy smiled, pleased with the compliment. He tipped the brim of his applejack cap before he hurried down the walk. When Jason turned back to Piper, her eyes were sparkling and wide with excitement. He set the vase onto the side table, holding out a hand for the card. 

Miss Chase,
I was most honored to make your acquaintance. It is a
pleasure I cannot express to know such a Graceful dancer.
Until we meet again,
Perseus Jackson

Jason scowled, crumpling the note in his hands immediately. Piper gasped at the reaction. “Lord Grace!”

“It is but petty taunting, Piper,” Jason insisted. After a moment of chewing his cheek, he flattened the card, pointing to the second line. “You see how he has intentionally made a joke from my name— he has gone so far as to capitalize it for emphasis! The man is a child; isn’t it obvious from that alone that he knew that I would be the one to receive the card? Jackson only intends to rile me.”

“Well, I should say that he has succeeded,” Piper frowned, a fair tone of judgment in her words. “I fear you are overthinking, my lord. Surely this Duke is not as fickle as you say.”

“You do not know him as I do, Pippa,” Jason said, his voice softening as he shoved the ruined card into his pocket. “The man isn’t worthy to wipe a scuff from Annabeth’s heel.”

Piper glanced back up the hall, checking for listening ears as she took a step toward Jason. Her gaze was expectant. “Jason, my friend,” she said quietly, her eyes gentle and desperate for understanding. “This behavior is not like you. I should like to hear what he has done to vex you so— perhaps then I could understand.”

The whole house seemed to be holding its breath as Jason examined her, deciding quietly for himself if he was willing to share what he knew of the Duke of Argos. Finally, he sighed, gesturing toward the drawing room with a nod. When they had settled comfortably on either ends of the sofa, he finally spoke. 

“I know not where to begin. Our time as companions was so brief, and yet I feel his fingerprints on my life shall never fade,” Jason said, staring at the wood floor. “The man inherits his title from his father, though it was more or less irrelevant until very recently.” He rested back against the couch as he recalled the details and Piper hung onto each word. “The former Duke was lost at sea some fifteen years ago, leaving behind a titleless wife and a son: Perseus. Salacia was a good woman — you will not find a soul that would dare say otherwise — but she made the mistake of marrying again while her heart and head were thick with grief, and the man was simply detestable.

“It is poetic, I suppose, that Salacia herself was also lost to the waves,” he frowned. “The bereavement ruined Perseus, though. He was reckless, rebellious; a true deviant of a youth. His step-father, Gabriel, could not handle the boy. He sent Jackson away to a school in Denmark where he stayed until he departed for University. All the while, Gabriel was spending the family’s money, cavorting with all manner of folk, and the reputation, I am afraid, is still quite heinous.”

“You blame the Duke for what his late step-father has done?” Piper asked, her brow knitting. “I hardly think that fair, my lord.”

“I blame the Duke for the things he has done, Pippa,” Jason shook his head. “He is as much at fault for the sordid reputation that the family carries as his sot of a step-father ever was. In University, he was known for his insatiable anger and arrogance. He gambled away a small fortune in just the short time I associated with him.” He exhaled, clearly frustrated by the memory. “He is a rake at best and he does not wish to marry, Piper. How can I trust a word he says after such a proclamation?”

“You must misunderstand him. There is not an eligible man in the ton that would not seek a wife among the ladies of the Season,” she insisted. “Even men that are ineligible and without title have their eyes turned to the festivities. It is all anyone can talk about, and your cousin is at the center of conversation. I cannot see a reason why a man of his means would not be interested in acquiring a wife.”

“Trust that it is so. I do not know his reasons, but I know full well that the man has vowed never to marry,” Jason promised. “And even if that were not the case, his upbringing is unacceptable, it is as simple as that. He knows I do not approve of him, for I could scarcely tolerate his behavior even when we were younger and it was more acceptable. Our natures have always been so very counter to one another— verily, this is why he is in pursuit of our Annabeth.”

“Surely you cannot believe that, Jason,” Piper said cautiously, turning her body on the sofa to look at him more fully. “I understand that you have a complicated past with the man, but can you really believe that he would do all of this in an attempt to pester you? Is it so improbable that he might have a genuine eye for Annabeth? She is a remarkable young woman— is it truly so absurd to think that she could be capable of changing the Duke’s mind?”

“I know not how to better explain my feeling to you,” he answered, “but I must beg you to believe me. He cannot be trusted, and Annabeth cannot be allowed to give him hope. It can only end poorly for all of us. Please, Pippa— promise me that you will not breathe a word of this to her.”

Piper eyed him carefully, considering all that she had been told. “You ask me to lie to my only friend?” she asked, looking as though she had just been scalded. 

“I am also your friend,” Jason added, “and I am asking that this matter stays between us for now. If it should become necessary for Annabeth to know, I will reconsider.”

“And what shall I tell her of the flowers, my lord?” Piper asked coldly. Her disappointment in him stung but Jason forced himself to swallow back the guilt it caused. “When she asks of their origins, what then shall I answer?”

“It is no matter. I will have Mellie remove them at once,” he explained. “She will be none the wiser.”

It was quiet for a long time as Piper looked to the tall windows opposite the couch, the lines in her forehead seeming to deepen with each passing second. “This is a fool’s errand, Jason,” she said firmly. Her hands fidgeted nervously in her lap, an agonized sort of fear in her features. “She is due to find out.”

“In time, she may,” he sighed, “but not today. Not if I can prevent it. Do I have your word?”

There was another long silence, an invisible gap widening between himself and the woman at the other end of the couch. “You have my word, Lord Grace.”

“I might have no one in the world, but at least I’m free.”
― Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

Berkeley Place // Lord Grace

The second morning of suitors came and went with little spectacle. Annabeth politely received each one in a way that continued to surprise Jason, and her spirits seemed to be in a relative state of elation. He had not yet had the chance to discuss the matter of Lord Castellan with Piper again, so he still did not know of Annabeth’s opinion on the matter— which meant he still did not have an answer for the man. 

It should have been a relief — seeing the Season off to such a successful start when the prelude had seemed so shaky — but all Jason could feel was anxiety. His nerves quaked, his appetite left him entirely, and he wondered when he would next be blessed with a full night’s rest. 

On the third day following the opening fete, he sat across from Annabeth and poked absently at his plate while he frowned. They had opted to take their breakfast in the conservatory that morning, enjoying the sunlight that filtered in through the tall windows. Annabeth’s attention was wholly consumed by whichever book was currently holding her focus— the topic of which was exceedingly dull, no doubt. When Piper stirred at her side, Jason looked up at last.

“I wonder if today might be a fine one for taking a walk,” she mused aloud to no one in particular, though she seemed to watch Annabeth out of the corner of her eye. “What do you think, Annabeth? It would be an excuse to don your new walking dress.”

“I am not lacking excuses for dressing up these days, Piper,” Annabeth answered without looking up from the page. After a moment, she slid a single playing card into the pages and closed the book, setting it beside her half-finished breakfast plate. “Though I suppose it would be nice to get out of the house today. Jason, are you agreeable to accompanying me on a promenade?”

“Do you truly wish to attend,” he asked, raising a brow, “or have you gotten it into your head that it is what is expected?”

“It is expected, is it not?” Annabeth replied. “But can that not also mean that I wish to make an appearance? You know as well as I do that it is important to be seen. I should not rely on balls alone to meet the man I will marry.”

“Forgive me for posturing, cousin,” Jason said, unable to hide the smirk on his lips. “I am simply surprised by how agreeable you seem to have found the Season given your reservations and objections in recent memory.”

“I enjoy a gathering,” she said firmly. “It is so refreshing to spend time conversing with people outside of one’s own household.”

“It cannot be so simple as that,” Piper chided. “Perhaps there is someone you are hoping to see, hm?”

“You are a thorn in my side, Phillipa,” Annabeth scowled, raising her book again. “I do not know why Jason favors you so.”

Jason looked back to his plate, a flash of warmth flitting across her cheeks. He did not know if Annabeth knew how close she danced to the truth, but it was better to leave the comment unacknowledged either way. He lifted his tea and took a sip, finding that it had cooled to a distasteful temperature before he replaced the cup on the table. 

“So that is it, then?” he asked. “Are we to promenade with the masses today, cousin?”

Annabeth nodded, her eyes still glued to the book in her hands. “I think I should like that. Piper will attend to keep you company.”

“If Miss McLean would like to join us, I cannot see reason why she should not be allowed,” he said carefully. Dabbing his napkin to the corner of his mouth, Jason rose to his feet. “I will have someone ready a carriage and leave you to your preparations. We shall depart in one hour.”

“I do not know that even I am capable of taming our Annabeth’s hair in only one hour, my lord,” Piper added, shooting him a smirk. Annabeth lowered her book to her lap, glowering at Piper, though the humor in her eyes revealed that she was not truly annoyed. Piper stuck her tongue out at her friend before she looked back to Jason. “I will do my very best to have her ready.”

“I will send Mellie up to assist,” he nodded. “Hasten as best you can.”

-

Praetoria Park // Lord Grace

By the time they reached the park, throngs of the Season’s hopefuls had already descended onto the riverwalk. Each side of the path was practically covered with men and women in their finest dress, the air so thick with parfum that Annabeth felt overwhelmed by the fragrance from the moment their carriage came to a halt. The cherry blossoms were at their peak; great swaths of pink blooms that provided a perfect backdrop to the conversations being had at various points on the walk and the lawn, and they added their own gentle scent to the mix of perfumes and oils that lingered in the area. 

“Must you walk so dreadfully slow, cousin?” Annabeth asked as they made their way across the sloping green lawn. Jason’s eyes surveyed the crowd, looking as though he was searching for something, or perhaps someone. “Everyone will have retreated to their homes by the time we reach the walk.”

“Go on ahead, then,” Jason nodded, releasing her arm. “I will follow shortly.”

Piper stayed at Annabeth’s side for a moment, a few whispers exchanged before she turned and waited for Jason. Annabeth continued to float down toward the riverwalk, elegant blonde curls framing her face. “You are unwilling to promenade.”

“Whatever makes you say that, Miss McLean?” he asked, sliding his hands into his pants pockets as they walked.

“It is obvious, though I am unsure why,” she noted, her arms swaying at her sides as she followed Jason up the walk. “Unless you assume that someone else might make an appearance today,” Piper proposed softly, her voice low. “Perhaps someone that may ask Miss Chase how agreeable she found her flowers to be.”

“That is enough,” Jason said curtly. “Speak nothing more of this. You have given me your word that the secret lies only between us.”

“And that is still so, my lord,” Piper said, raising an eyebrow at Jason’s unexpected severity. “I have said nothing to her on the matter and I will not for as long as you deem it necessary.”

They walked in silence, side by side but a half-meter apart. It was not entirely appropriate for Piper to be attending with them at all, he knew, but he had seen how her eyes had brightened at Annabeth’s mention, and he simply could not deny her the outing. It was not her fault, he reasoned, that she had been sired by a titleless man. She should be allowed to enjoy life, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.

“If you are so sure the Duke intends to remain unmarried—”

“Pippa, we have been through this,” Jason interrupted with a frown. “He is a cad in as many ways as a man can be, and I will not allow him to string my cousin along.”

“If you would only allow me to finish my thoughts, Lord Grace,” she said, and he could not avoid feeling the weight of his title when she said it with such disdain. “I wonder why it is that you expect him to make a showing at an event such as this when you are certain his intentions are not to find a wife.”

Jason sighed, regretting that it was a reasonable question. “I do not think he would attend,” he answered after a while, “but if he did, I would like to be aware before Annabeth is spotted.”

“I see,” Piper nodded. “You have created a delusion for yourself.”

“I long to live in a world as black and white as yours, Phillipa, truly,” Jason scowled. “You seem to have assessed the situation so aptly in your brief time at Pallas— I wonder as to which University has bestowed upon you such profound education.”

Piper’s feet stilled on the path. When he looked back, her eyes were cold and distant. He sighed, turning to her and stepping back to her side. 

“I did not mean it as it sounded,” he soothed, his eyes scanning her face. “Forgive me.”

The tightness in her jaw did not relax as she continued to stare back at Jason. It was a long moment, too long, before she finally opened her mouth again. “You are burdening yourself with worry you should not have, and that is perfectly fine,” she said, her words pouring forth with a clipped staccato. “If you should like to continue losing sleep over a problem that only you seem capable of detecting, you are free to do so. But you will not take your angers out on me. I am no ward of yours, Lord Grace.” 

With that, she turned, retreating up the path. Jason was helpless to do anything but watch her go, hating himself with each step that increased the space between them. He was still watching her as she came to a stop beneath a cherry tree, gazing out over the river, and raised a handkerchief to her eyes. His heart ached with the want to pursue her but he knew it was not suitable. Then he felt the touch on his shoulder.

“Lord Grace,” a woman’s voice said as he pulled his eyes away from Piper at last. Lady Beckendorf beamed at him with a smile so bright and warm that he almost managed to produce one of his own. “It is lovely to see you and your ward out on this fine morning.”

“Lady Beckendorf,” Jason bowed before also acknowledging the man whose arm she clung to. “Lord Beckendorf. A pleasant spring we seem to be having, isn’t it?”

“Oh, you do not strike me as the type to discuss matters of temperature,” Lady Beckendorf chided and her husband chuckled to himself. They were a handsome couple, to be sure— it was hard to look anywhere else when they were nearby. “I am quite glad that we bumped into you today.”

“I am surprised to see you here, if I am to be completely honest, my lady,” Jason remarked, letting a laugh accompany his words. The Lord Beckendorf and his family were one of the oldest bloodlines in the region, a lineage so rich and noble that it was daunting to many to even glance in the direction of the man, but Jason felt entirely at ease in their presence. The Beckendorfs had that effect. 

“My wife enjoys knowing the goings on of the ton , Lord Grace,” Lord Beckendorf explained, patting the hand that rested on his arm affectionately as he glanced over and they shared a warm smile. “We are never too far from the heart of the Season.”

“I suppose that is one way to remain in the know,” he nodded. “What is your opinion of the current state of things then, Lady Beckendorf?”

“Oh, I fear it is much too soon to make such predictions,” she objected with a wave of her hand. After only a second, however, she leaned toward him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Though I have heard a rumor that Miss Tanaka was spotted on the square without a chaperone just last night. Perhaps it is true that she really was alone, but it is not a pleasant look either way, is it?”

“I should say not,” Jason shook his head. “I can only hope that my cousin does not find herself making such missteps, no matter how innocent or accidental.”

“Your cousin is quite lovely, Lord Grace,” Lady Beckendorf said thoughtfully as all three of them turned to observe where Annabeth was conversing happily with Lord Mason. “I have heard that she is quite the brilliant mind.”

“Anna is gifted indeed,” he affirmed proudly. “She is intelligent and talented and I could not be more honored to have her as my relation.”

“We like to invite debutantes and their escorts to call on our home on occasion,” Lord Beckendorf stated simply.  “I think we would enjoy your presence at dinner, Lord Grace. What say you, Silena?”

“Oh, what a wonderful idea!” Lady Beckendorf chimed, her brilliant smile somehow widening. She looked joyfully from her husband to Jason. “Say that you will come, Lord Grace. I would love nothing more than to entertain you and Miss Chase this evening.”

The suggestion surprised him but he recovered quickly. “I do not see how I could possibly decline such a warm invitation,” he replied. “I think that Anna will be quite excited at the notion as well.”

“That is simply wonderful news,” Lady Beckendorf said, her dark, almost-black hair glinting in the sunlight as she shook her head in excitement. “Charles, we must hasten our journey home— there is much to prepare.”

Lord Beckendorf only smiled, extending a hand toward Jason. “We will see you tonight then, my lord,” he said warmly as he shook Jason’s hand. “If you will excuse us, I must get my wife home before she combusts.”

Jason bowed to each of them again as the couple turned and hurried up the walk. He could still hear Lady Beckendorf’s excited chittering when Annabeth returned. 

“Have you made a friend, cousin?” she asked with a smile. 

“I think that we have made friends, Annabeth,” he laughed. “Come, we must return to Berkeley.”

“Already?” she frowned. “But we have only just arrived.”

“Tell me,” Jason smiled as he leaned forward, folding his hands behind his back. “Would you like to take a rest before your grand dinner at the Beckendorf Manor this evening?”

Annabeth’s expression pinched in confusion for a moment. “I know not what you speak of, Jason. We do not have plans for a dinner.”

“We do now,” he corrected, offering her his arm. “Now, if you should like to be able to rest before you are to be dressed for tonight, I must insist that we make our way home.”

“Tonight?” Annabeth repeated, still so plainly confused even as she accepted Jason’s arm. “Is that what I glimpsed transpiring?”

“It was,” he smiled. “The Lord and Lady are excited to get to know you, Annabeth. I’d say this is quite lucky indeed— and bodes well for your appearances so far this Season.”

Annabeth smiled softly, her eyes alight with excitement as they walked. When Jason looked ahead, he did not see Piper beneath the cherry tree any longer, but instead she waited on a bench near the gate, a solemn expression on her face. If Annabeth thought it odd, she said nothing; she was astute in that way. 

“I am proud of you,” Jason said quietly, earning a broad smile from his cousin. “I mean it, genuinely. I know that this posturing is not to your taste, but you are doing remarkably well. I am relieved to see that you do not find the festivities as burdensome as you had originally thought.”

“Thank you, Jason,” Annabeth replied sincerely. “It warms me to know that you might feel some relief. I am not the only one of us that had fears, I know.”

“In that, you are very correct,” he laughed. They, along with Piper, loaded into the carriage a few moments later and made their way back to Berkeley Place without delay. 

-

Beckendorf Manor // Perseus

“Lord Beckendorf, your guests have arrived,” the page said as he entered the drawing room. All eyes turned to the door as Charles rose to his feet. “Dinner will be served momentarily.”

“Thank you,” Charles nodded, extending a hand for his wife as the page hurried off to see to dinner. “My love, shall we receive our friends?”

Silena accepted the hand gratefully, a soft smile on her lips. Her attire for the evening, while simpler than it might normally be for an evening of entertaining, was nothing short of exquisite— then again, the Lady herself was never anything but startlingly beguiling. The mention of guests did not seem to be a surprise to her either. 

“Am I to understand that you have invited someone more important than me to your table?” Percy asked, raising a brow. “And here I thought I was the only one that you enjoyed entertaining.”

“Oh, hush now, Perseus,” Silena said, swatting the back of his head lightly as she walked past on her husband’s arm. “If I had told you we were asking other friends to join us as well, would you have accepted my invitation this evening? Say it is so and I will apologize.”

“Silena, you wound me,” Percy sighed, getting to his feet. “I am not so bad as you say.”

“No,” Charles grinned. He was a man of few words but each one was important. “You are worse.”

“This goading will not work. You will suffer my offense regardless,” he said as he followed behind the couple, making their way to the entryway in a cloud of comfortable, polite laughter. When they reached the door, Percy was quite surprised to see Jason Grace haunting the foyer.

“Lord Beckendorf,” he said cheerily, extending a hand to the man. And then his eyes moved past Silena altogether, locking onto Percy with a look of surprise. “Lady Beckendorf,” Jason continued, attempting to recollect himself though his tone had fallen flat. Finally, with a sour set to his lips, Jason extended a hand to Percy as well. “Your Grace.”

When Jason stepped aside, Percy saw her at last, looking every bit as radiant as she had two nights prior. Miss Chase wore a gown of fine silk in a shade of indigo so true he half-worried it might stain her pale skin. Her hair had not been drawn back into the same confining sort of style that he had seen her sporting at the ball, but fell in ringlets over her shoulders and had been pinned back at the temples to keep the curls out of her face. 

She set her stormy eyes on him and he felt the heat rising on his throat. Just as quickly, she looked away, greeting her hosts instead and once pleasantries had been exchanged, they all retreated to the dining room at last. Charles took the chair at one end and Jason claimed the other for himself. Percy noted with a tinge of annoyance that one side of the table, the side that Silena had settled into, had only been given one place setting. 

So it was a setup, then. Percy resisted the urge to scowl openly, understanding at last why Charles and Silena had not told him that they had invited Jason Grace and his ward to join them for dinner. There was nothing that Percy hated quite so much as he hated meddling, and Silena — God help her — loved little more than she loved to meddle.

It was a rather casual affair, all things considered. Jason spoke kindly and did not seem to be his usual antagonistic self, and that alone could be considered a miracle. Miss Chase said little but her comments were appreciated by all. When she spoke, they all listened, ears primed to receive her loquacious remarks.

“If I may be so bold,” she said after the main course had been taken away, “I find it so interesting that you maintain such intimate company, Lady Beckendorf. I would have thought that your guest lists would be sprawling.”

“Well,” Silena smiled sweetly, leaning forward in her seat slightly, “we gather not for image or to posture, Miss Chase. We enjoy one another's company. The Duke is practically a brother to my husband, and a confidante to me. We are family.”

She looked over finally, turning her head sharply to the left so that she might get a better look at him, and he was surprised that she appeared so displeased. Anna turned back toward their hostess. “I have never known much of family,” she said mournfully, “not before Jason came to Pallas, anyway.”

“I am glad to know that you and Lord Grace have each other,” Silena said simply. “It is a treacherous thing to walk the world alone; it is much more palatable with friends. I hope you will come to see us as your friends as well.”

Her cheeks flushed and Percy looked down at his plate again, determined not to give much thought to how the blush suited her. It took only moments for the conversation to move on to less depressing topics. Dessert was served (some chocolate concoction that Silena’s family had been known for) and coffee was brought about to the guests.

“I have also heard tell that you have taken a guest at Berkeley Place for the summer,” Charles said, taking a sip from his cup. His brow furrowed, clearly displeased by the temperature and he set it back onto the table to cool. “Is it true, Lord Grace?”

“It is,” Jason nodded. He did not look up, fingers twitching nervously as he reached for his spoon and picked at his dessert. “Our friend, Miss Phillipa McLean. She is staying through the Season to assist Miss Chase.”

“I do not recognize the name,” Charles said, tilting his head in thought. “It is not common.”

“You would not. She is not from Pallas, and,” Jason frowned again, the scowl lines he had worn since youth deepening in his forehead, “her father is not titled. But she is a dear friend to my cousin and has become a friend to me as well. We are enjoying her company.”

“You should be sure to bring her along next time,” Silena added.

He smiled softly at the invitation. “I will think on that offer, my lady.” 

Anna was silent at his side, her dessert untouched though she had begun to nurse the coffee before her. The conversation carried on without them and Percy could tell by the distant look in her eye that she had not followed it any more than he had. “You seem uncomfortable, Miss Chase,” Percy noted, his voice soft so as to not draw too much attention. “Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“How could I be enjoying this?” she replied, so quickly and with enough spite that he might have recoiled if there had been any volume at all behind the words. As it was, she had only just muttered her sentiment, but the point was not blurred by any means. “This is so transparently an encounter of your devising. I cannot believe you would ask such a favor of your friends.”

“You mean to say that I have arranged this meeting?” Percy smirked, choking down a laugh at the absurdity. “I can assure you, if I were attempting to court you, you would know.”

“Then what, pray tell, has brought me here this evening?” Anna asked, turning her head toward him finally. “Am I truly to believe that you had no hand in this invitation?”

“I do not care what you believe.” Percy pulled his cup to his lips and took a careful sip. “It seems to me that you have already formed an opinion about me regardless— what good will it do for me to duel with you over a matter you have plainly decided already?”

Anna frowned. “As I told you two nights past, when we danced mere steps from this hall,” she continued, eyes stormy as ever, “I will not dispute my cousin's opinion.”

“And what if your cousin is wrong?”

“He is not.”

Percy’s hands wrapped around the cup, letting the warmth flow into the soft skin of his palm. He managed to suppress the smile that he could feel growing. “And you are sure?”

It was plain that she did not find the exchange as humorous as he did. When he glanced up, he noticed Silena eyeing them, but she said nothing. Both he and Anna had kept their voices low, and whatever boring matter Jason and Charles were currently discussing had absorbed them so wholly that they had not even noticed the side conversation that was unfolding.

”I have heard enough,” Anna shook her head. “Your reputation precedes you—”

“Do you think I am the only one with a reputation, Miss Chase?” Percy questioned, unable to hold his tongue at that most scathing remark. “Surely you know what they say of you.”

When she smiled next, he remembered laying eyes on her that first night. Fight was so rare in their world. He had thought it then, and it echoed now. The simper on her lips was nothing if not daring, a challenge alight in her eyes. 

She tipped her face toward him slightly, her voice even more careful. “Your criticism means nothing to me, Your Grace,” Anna declared. “Not when I have heard what pleases you.”

Her sources were talkative, he knew only that much. And what a shame it was that no one ever bothered to sort out the truth before spreading the rumor. “You weigh my entire worth against the opinion of one man,” Percy mused. “Have you no care for the fact that I may have other friends?”

Anna scoffed. “Even Caesar had friends.”

“That hardly feels like a fair association,” Percy chuckled. “You scarcely know me.”

“What, then?” she snipped, her cheeks flushed. “What can you say that will change my mind?”

“To be sure, there is nothing I can say that will alter the mind of a woman,” he refuted. “That much I know full well.”

“So you have tried,” Anna wagered, a perfect brow rising. “To alter a woman’s mind, I mean.”

“Have not all men tried to sway women?” Percy laughed, a bit louder than he had intended. “I dare to speculate that even your dear cousin has some secrets that may fall under that umbrella.” 

“Your Grace, whatever are you laughing at?” Silena interrupted, unable to hold herself back any longer. Anna’s cheeks reddened immediately— embarrassment from being chastised, no doubt. She looked the type to be mindful of such things.

“I apologize, my lady,” he smiled, raising his cup. “Miss Chase was merely sharing a story I found humorous. I did not intend to disturb the conversation.”

“Well, I am pleased to see that you have gotten along with your neighbor,” she grinned in reply. “Miss Chase is lovely company, isn’t she?”

“She is certainly lovely,” Percy agreed. It would have been rude not to, of course. But he did not miss the way that Jason shifted in his seat at the remark. “And quick. Jason, I think she is sharper than you by double.”

“Well, that is not saying much, I am afraid,” Jason said, though the self-effacing joke did not quite land when accompanied by the severity of his eyes. “My cousin is the gem of our family, to be sure. I would never deign to compare myself.”

Anna looked as though she wished to vanish out of existence, like she would melt into the wallpaper that very instant if she were able. Silena, gratefully, seemed to sense it. 

“I do not wish to keep you too terribly late, Lord Grace,” she said, looking back up the table. “It is not a long ride back to Berkeley, I know, but Miss Chase will need her rest before tomorrow's fete. You will be in attendance, I hope.”

Charles’s eyes went between his wife and the blonde man at the other end of the table curiously but he made no attempt to share whatever thought was flitting through his mind.

“Of course, my lady,” Jason nodded. “Should we expect to see you?”

“Charles and I would not miss it,” she nodded. “I cannot speak for His Grace, though if there is frivolity to be had, I cannot imagine that he will be far.”

“You speak as if I am not here at all, Lady Beckendorf,” Percy remarked. “As it is, I have not presently made up my mind as to whether I will be making an appearance.”

“There will be other gatherings for you to haunt, I am sure,” Jason said as lightly as he could manage. “How long are you in Pallas, Your Grace?”

“I had hoped my business would be attended to by now,” Percy answered. “Unfortunately, the matter seems to be far more complicated than I was previously informed. I expect I shall be in town for a few more weeks at least.”

“You had not shared as much with me,” Silena balked, clearly offended by the brush-off. “You will be staying with us through the end of April, then?”

“If that is agreeable to you, my lady.”

“I shall have to speak to my husband on the matter,” she laughed, setting her hand on the table as Charles’s own hand moved to cover it instantly. “If he permits, I will have the guest quarters readied for a longer stay this very evening.”

“Your husband sounds like a fierce judge,” Percy noted, shooting a knowing smirk at Charles. “I can only hope I have earned his favor.”

Jason and Annabeth were looking at each other, a silent plea for help going up without a word. Percy felt guilty, even if only for a moment— he knew well what it was like to be on the fringes of a friendship. He had not meant to make her even more uncomfortable. 

“Miss Chase,” he said politely, “I enjoyed our conversation this evening, but I fear I must retire.”

“So soon, friend?” Charles asked, throwing his voice into the mix at last. “We have scarcely begun to catch up.”

“I am sure we will have every opportunity,” Percy nodded. “But I do not think that we should keep Lord Grace and Miss Chase from their home any longer.”

“He is quite right, Charles,” Silena said, shooting him a soft smile. “We should see our guests out so that Miss Chase can be allowed ample time to rest.”

Goodbyes were quick after that, with only the barest of sentiments exchanged as the blonde cousins departed. Percy was already on the stairs when he heard her. 

“Get back here, Perseus,” Silena called. “You will not escape me so easily— not in my own home.”

“My lady,” he sighed, hand on the railing as he paused and looked back at her. Her hands rested on her hips, delicate fingers settling against the blush pink fabric of her dress. “Surely your interrogations can wait until morning light.”

“They cannot,” she objected. Percy was too tired to fight with her, dropping his head in exasperation as he retreated down the stairs and came to a stop in front of her. “What do you have to say?”

“Me?” Percy balked, raising a hand to his chest in surprise. “I have nothing to defend. It was your plotting that landed us here this night, verily.”

“Plotting,” she repeated. “You make it sound as though I have devised some clever scheme. All I have done is extend an invitation to dinner. The Lord Grace was great company and his ward shines on her own. Is that so disagreeable?”

“You are nothing if not meddlesome, Silena,” Percy groaned. “I do not know how Charles tolerates it.”

“I have never had need to orchestrate such a thing for my husband,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “When he sees something he requires, he obtains it. He does not need my assistance.”

“And I do, is that your point?”

“Quite obviously, Your Grace,” Silena shook her head. “Dare you attempt to lie to me? It was so clear to me at the Season opener that you carry a torch for the young lady. I merely wanted to give you the opportunity to stoke the fire that already exists.”

Percy barked out a laugh. “You are usually astute in your observations, Silena, but in this,” he denied, “you are gravely mistaken.”

There was a long pause, a silence so thick that he could hear Charles setting his freshly refilled cup of coffee onto the desk inside his study. Silena looked him over with those vibrant, all-seeing eyes, starting at the top of his head and moving to his boots before they worked back up to his face. He hated when she did that.

“Answer one question for me, Perseus,” she requested simply after she had bored herself with staring and surveying. “Why is it that you will not allow yourself to seek out things that might bring you joy?”

Percy scoffed, turning away from her but she caught his arm. When he looked back, there was not an ounce of judgment in her eyes, only the longing to understand. Something that he saw there felt like kinsmenship, like she might do anything in her power to provide some form of comfort. Perhaps that was what made him soften.

“Is it such an audacious question?” Silena asked, her voice gentle as her hand fell away from his arm. “I only wonder as your friend.”

“There is nothing audacious about you, Silena,” he said in response. “Your only fault, as far as I am concerned, is your willingness to break your back for hopelessness. They will paint you alongside Saint Jude in the abbey so that you may both look over the lost causes.”

“I cannot believe what I am hearing,” Silena frowned. “Have you truly resigned yourself to such misery?”

“What I know is that I am doing no one any favors by providing a distraction this Season,” he explained. “There is no need for me to go through these motions when I have no intent of making honest women of any of them.”

The silence that followed his words was even longer and emptier than the one before, and when Silena finally opened her mouth, her voice felt like he was hearing it for the first time. “Will you ever forgive yourself? Surely you know it is not you who is to blame.” 

Percy looked at the floor, frowning. “I do not believe I can answer that.” Before she could press the matter further, Percy took a step toward the stairs. “I fear I must retire, Lady Beckendorf,” he said with a shallow bow. “We can spar over the past another time.”

Silena looked concerned but she allowed him to slip away, giving him a permissive nod as he turned toward the stairs. As he climbed, he heard the heels of her shoes as they made a path toward the study and by the time he reached the landing, Lady Beckendorf was out of sight. 

“You have made me promises before and I, like a fool,
believed them. I cannot be your fool again.”
― Siena Rosso, The Art of the Swoon

Berkeley Place // Lord Grace

When the carriage returned its occupants to Berkeley Place, it was near silent. Jason followed Annabeth up the front steps and into the foyer, unsure of why her mood seemed to be so dampened. The fete had been, by all accounts, a successful one. Word of the Beckendorfs’ interest in Annabeth had already begun to spread throughout the ton and the general feeling seemed to be positive. She was already being seen as the top of her peerage, and now she shined even more than she had in those days before. 

Memory of the delightful music swirled in his mind as he tried to recollect any moment out of the ordinary, and he could not find one. Annabeth had appeared to be having a grand time as she danced and flirted innocently— though, he remembered suddenly, he would need to warn her not to invest too much time into Lord Solace. The gossip around him certainly suggested that it might not be a wife that he was after, and Annabeth might be barking up the wrong tree. Such a reminder could wait, however. She was far too cross to be troubled with such at this hour. 

“Annabeth,” Jason said, just as she turned toward the stairs, “what has come over you?”

“Nothing at all, cousin,” she smiled, though it did not come close to meeting her eyes. “I am only tired. I trust that we will discuss the events of tonight’s foray ad nauseum in the morning.”

“If that is what you would like,” he frowned. Jason couldn’t help but feel that she was not being entirely genuine about her feelings and he could only hope that he had not made some invisible misstep and caused this reaction. Being at the top of Annabeth’s list of grievances was not a fate that Jason was want to bring upon himself. “I will send Mellie up with some tea.”

“That is quite alright,” Annabeth shook her head, delicate fingers already reaching to remove some of the pins that were straining to hold back her curls. “I do not require tea this evening. I believe that I will feel better after I have cleansed my face and enjoyed a good night's rest.”

Even with the finality of her statement, neither of them moved. It was as if they both felt that there was more to be said but neither was willing to bring it up. He had many thoughts that she needed to understand— not the least of which was that a proposal had already been made and that Lord Castellan would surely come calling for an answer at any time. It felt cruel to burden her with such information when her exhaustion was so obvious on her face. 

“I believe that the same goes for you, cousin,” she noted as her hand grazed the railing, feet beginning to make the ascent. “Rest well. I will see you for our morning communion.”

“Yes, goodnight,” he agreed, watching as she made her way to the landing and disappeared up the corridor. 

-

Berkeley Place // Lord Grace

A surprising message awaited them when they convened for breakfast. The note was brief and consisted of an invitation from Lady Beckendorf that requested Annabeth’s company on a journey to the modiste. Jason was glad to see that the development seemed to please her, and he was all too willing to grant his permission— once he had reasoned with himself that it could not be another ruse, of course.

Ever since they’d departed Beckendorf Manor two nights past, Jason had been exhausting his mind in attempts to reason why a woman so lovely as Lady Beckendorf would allow herself to be associated with the likes of Perseus Jackson. He considered the sentiment that she had shared over their dinner — how she claimed that she, along with Lord Beckendorf, saw the Duke as a part of their family — and wondered how it could be that Jackson had managed to retain such high regard when his reputation had been so deeply fractured. 

And though arriving at dinner to learn that the Duke had become a semi-permanent fixture at the Manor for the foreseeable future had been a rather unpleasant surprise, he only gained relief from knowing that it could not have been Lady Beckendorf’s idea to invite the man to dinner. Besides, he could not envision any reasonable excuse that Perseus might be able to forge that would justify or explain a need to accompany Lady Beckendorf and Annabeth on their shopping trip. Surely the outing would be an uneventful one, and Jason was more than happy to let Annabeth spend a bit of her father’s money. She had more than earned it.

When the Beckendorfs’ carriage pulled round to the house, Annabeth all but leapt down the stairs, her grin brighter than it had been in recent memory. “I will return before sundown, Jason,” she said, pausing to bid him farewell briefly. “Please do not allow Piper to mope terribly in my absence. Perhaps you can teach her chess— she has always wanted to learn.”

“Perhaps,” Jason nodded, returning her smile as best as he could. “Enjoy yourself, but be mindful of—”

“Oh, enough with your worries,” Annabeth groaned, swatting him away as she continued through the foyer. “I will not let your pessimism ruin my perfect afternoon.”

Even as he felt chastised, Jason could only chuckle in response as he opened the door for her. “Very well, Annabeth,” he said simply. As she passed through the threshold, he pressed a coin purse into her hand. “Have fun.”

She paused to register what gift he had bestowed upon her and he could see the moment that the recognition settled over her. It was such a small thing that he almost could not believe the reaction she gave, but Annabeth was nearly moved to tears by the gesture. Allowing her to spend money of her own free will was the least that he could do. It was not wholly proper to send a young woman into town with money of her own to burn a hole through her pockets, but for once, he was not bothered by the thought.

So, people may think him gauche. There were worse fates.

When the carriage had set into motion, Jason returned to the house. He was never so glad for a morning free from callers as he was on that particular Sunday. He could hardly stand to face Lord Castellan at present, knowing that he would be expecting an answer. Jason frowned at the reminder, wondering when would be the best time to inform Annabeth of her possible fate. 

“Lord Grace?”

Jason looked up, pleasantly surprised to see Piper standing near the end of the hall. “Good morning, Phillipa. You slept well, I hope?”

“Only for far too long, I am afraid,” she smiled. He thought that she looked more refreshed than ever before, her skin and eyes bright in the morning light, and if that was the result of a lengthy slumber, perhaps they should all be resting more frequently. “I hear that Annabeth has journeyed into town for the day.” 

There was something almost questioning in her tone, a lilt that made him think that she was testing the waters. “It is as you say,” Jason nodded as he came to a stop in front of her. “I have been given the task of entertaining you today. I hope that you will find it acceptable.”

“I am sure that we will find a way to spend our time,” Piper laughed. “I do wish to speak with you, however, and I do not know a time that would be more convenient than present. It is about Annabeth.”

“Should we seek someplace more comfortable, then?” he wondered, gesturing to the drawing room. “Mellie will not mind.”

“If you think it best,” Piper nodded. 

When they had settled onto the wine-red sofas, Mellie lingering near the back of the room, Piper shifted her skirts, turning her body to face Jason. “I must tell you that I have spoken to Annabeth just this morning and she did not have a warm reaction to the notion of accepting Lord Castellan’s proposal.”

Jason exhaled, frowning at the news. “I anticipated as much. I know little of the man, but he does not invoke a good feeling. He says he has ‘watched her from afar’,” he scowled. “I fear that the idea of his longing for my cousin only serves to give me indigestion.”

“So you will give him your regrets, then?” Piper asked, pressing her lips together nervously. 

“I do not know that I can outright refuse, Pippa,” he sighed. “What reason can I give for not accepting? He is noble in birth, he poses no immediate threat of poor health, he isn’t given to drinking or gambling. It isn’t acceptable for me to lean so heavily onto my cousin’s opinion on this matter.”

“Of course.” Piper’s eyes turned from Jason’s pensive face, focused on the windows. Her tone was flat and empty. “Why would Annabeth’s opinions and feelings be factored into the consideration?”

“Do not make me feel worse,” Jason muttered. His fists clenched in his lap, but released a moment later. “I had hoped that she would surprise me and have a more neutral response to the idea, it is true, but I must do what I can for her. And if the Lord Castellan—”

“What if there were another way?” 

Jason stared at Piper’s strong profile until she turned her face toward him again. “What do you mean, Pippa?”

“What if there were another for Annabeth to marry?” she mused. “A landowner, one that she considers a friend. Someone that can keep her happy as well as provided for.”

“You speak as if you know of such a man,” Jason noted, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Surely if my cousin had taken a shine to a suitable match I would have been made aware.”

“He is no longer in the ton , I am afraid. He departed not long after you arrived, if my memory does not fail me,” Piper explained. “The pair exchanged letters for some time; they were close friends in their youth.”

“Well, Pippa, do not keep me on tenterhooks,” Jason urged. “Who is this man of which you speak?”

Piper inhaled slowly, as though she were betraying a most protected secret. It made Jason more and more anxious by the second. What did she know, what truth had she gleaned in such an abbreviated period of time that Jason had not noticed in his three years as Annabeth’s guardian?

“His name is Connor Stoll—”

“Phillipa, do not taunt me—”

“Please hear me, Jason,” she pleaded, her hand reaching out as if she wanted to touch him, but after a quick glance toward the maid keeping vigil, she thought better of it. Piper withdrew her hand, letting it rest on top of her other in her lap. “She cares for him at least. He is a good friend and a good man from what I have heard of him. And he is a proprietor, is he not?”

“There is a difference,” Jason sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Surely you must understand that. Annabeth cannot marry a farmer. It will not suit.”

“You would rather see her unhappily wed to the likes of Lord Castellan,” Piper questioned, her tone confounded, “than happily cared for outside of the ton?”

“I would rather see her wed to a noble, as is her birthright,” he snapped, his volume rising slightly. “He is titleless, a laborer. The man might be a friend to her and I cannot prevent that association, but I will not allow my cousin to kneel below her station.”

Piper recoiled, her brow furrowing. Her entire body seemed to have frozen. Perhaps if Jason had noticed it sooner, he would have been able to keep his words from spilling forth.

“It is not our way,” he continued, his stress apparent in the tenacity behind his words. “Annabeth is a Lady— she has been raised a Lady, taught by all the best tutors and showered in the very best that her father’s fortune could provide. She would be throwing her life away by marrying a commoner.”

Piper swallowed, her eyes darkening. For the first time, he seemed to hear his own words. There was a tense silence while both waited for the other to respond. Finally, when she could apparently tolerate his presence no longer, she pushed up from the sofa with a disappointed expression.

“Pippa—”

“Do not use pet names with me, my lord,” Piper scolded. Jason mirrored the action, rising to his feet, but she held a hand out to dissuade him from following her. “Someone might think that you are kneeling below your station.”

“Do not be this way, I beg,” Jason said quietly. “You misunderstand my meaning.”

Piper turned back, lingering halfway between the sofa and the doorway. “I think I understand quite well, Lord Grace.” Her jaw clenched slightly as Jason took a step toward her and her eyes were severe enough to give him pause. “I fear I must tend to the orchids. I will leave you to your worriment.”

Every fiber of his being urged him forward but he could not move. The iciness of her stare froze him to the spot, watching helplessly as she disappeared into the hallway. At least a full minute passed while Jason’s eyes watched the door, hoping that she would return but not entertaining even an ounce of surprise when she did not. 

He was a fool, perhaps, for not holding his tongue in front of Piper— but he was not wrong. The two facts quarreled in his chest, battling to be the primary emotion. If he hadn’t been so caught off guard by her suggestion, perhaps he could have offered her a more measured reply, an answer that would not have so wholly offended her. As it was, he was left in an empty drawing room, wishing that the things he knew to be true were not so.

Annabeth was the last of her line, the only hope for the Chase name to retain any amount of esteem. And Jason — dutiful, cautious, stoic Jason — was the defacto patriarch of their remnant, taxed with the responsibility of ensuring that her marriage was seen to. He could not stand by and let a reasonable offer expire while she waited for letters from a farmer. It was not acceptable.

Jason swallowed. He understood what had to be done, even if he was not in any hurry to make the decision. When he next parted his lips to speak, his voice was tight. “Mellie?”

“Yes, my lord?” the girl asked, stepping forward. Her face was pinched into an expression of knowing sympathy, as if she understood the turmoil he was feeling at the present time.

Jason ran a hand over his mouth as he reached a decision. “Bring me a messenger.”

-

Beckendorf Manor // Perseus

The late morning air was bitterly chilled, uncommonly so for this point in the spring, but it was refreshing. Perseus gripped the reins, light in the saddle as he pushed his horse deeper into the wood. He relished the quiet solitude of morning rides, and with the hectic nature of the last several days, quiet solitude was precisely what was needed. 

By the time he returned to the house, it was mid-afternoon. With Silena having gone into town with her maid for the morning, the Manor was more peaceful than it had been in days. Percy would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been avoiding her ever since their conversation two nights prior, and he felt much more relaxed at the knowledge that he did not need to be on guard for at least a few hours. 

Enjoying his newfound freedom, Percy took to the gardens to enjoy the sunlight. Charles’s and Silena’s home had always been his preferred locale when venturing into the city was unavoidable. The land was rich and quiet, surrounded by low hills and guarded in the South by an expansive and well-stocked lake. This was the place that Percy could often be found, resting near the water and hoping to go unnoticed. 

The merriment was short-lived. It took almost no time for his respite to be spoiled, dark storm clouds rolling in angrily from the East. With a sigh, Percy collected himself and began the short trek back to the Manor. He had only just reached the courtyard when he heard the carriage approaching, so he lingered near the walk to assist the Lady Beckendorf with what was certain to be a sizable haul of goods from her journey to the modiste. 

He had already prepared a snide remark for her, but the quip died on his tongue the instant that he opened the carriage door and saw her face. “Silena,” he frowned, holding out a hand to assist her as she disembarked, “whatever is the matter?”

“Oh, it is just the most dreadful news, Percy,” Silena sighed dramatically. (He did not allow worry to shake him just yet, as he knew from experience that this reaction could just as easily be brought on by a snag in her stockings.) Her delicate hand settled into his as she accepted his help. The moment her feet were on the ground she turned her attention on him entirely. “Miss Chase is to be wed.”

Percy’s brow furrowed unexpectedly. The news was certainly not as dire as Silena had initially made it seem, but he was surprised at the way it seemed to turn his stomach regardless. “Well, is that not the desired outcome of one’s Season?” he asked, scoffing slightly to himself and hoping that she did not notice his pause. “I should think you would be celebrating.”

“For one, Perseus, you know that I have my own predilections as to whom should be courting Miss Chase,” she retorted, her eyes all but glaring. He looked away with an annoyed sigh. “And I am also of the mind that it is simply too early in the Season for any lady to be withdrawing herself from the set. But Lord Grace seems to have made up his mind.”

The clouds began to rumble overhead and Percy nodded toward the doors, extending an arm for her as a steward hurried to unload her packages from the carriage. Something pulled at his gut that was not unlike jealousy but he refused to give it even a hint of attention.

“And you are privy to this most sensitive information by way of rumor?” he prodded as they climbed the steps and crossed into the foyer. Still guiding her by the arm, Percy led the way into the sitting room and took their seats at the small table where Lady Beckendorf’s maid was already assembling a small tea service. 

“Oh, I do wish it were only rumor,” Silena bemoaned, sounding as though she were reporting on a death rather than an engagement. “When we had enjoyed our fill of shopping, our driver delivered Miss Chase and her shopping bags to Berkeley Place, of course. And, being the wonderfully kind young lady that she is,” she shot a knowing look at Percy, “she invited me in for tea.”

Percy glanced toward the service that the maid was currently attending, a silent question in his brow. 

“Well, obviously I did not stay,” she huffed. “I do not think I was intended to hear, but Lord Grace was waiting at the door when we entered the hall, poised with the information as if he had known that he could not contain his secrets another moment. And poor Miss Chase— I do not believe I have ever heard a sound like that in all my life.”

“What sort of sound?”

“I can describe it to you only as a wail of utter betrayal,” Silena shook her head. “Miss Chase had not been consulted at all, it seems. The arrangement was handled by the men, as these things so often are, and it would appear that her opinion has not been regarded in the slightest. It is a tragedy, though not at all uncommon. Still my heart aches for her terribly.”

There was an annoying itch creeping its way into his chest as he let the new information sink in. Surely he could not be so surprised that a woman of Anna Chase’s breeding and beauty would be among the first of the Season to enter an engagement, but the finality of the thing tasted bitter on his tongue for reasons unknown— or, at least, for reasons ignored.

“Surely you know what my question will be,” Percy mused. He made a valiant attempt to keep his tone appropriately disinterested as he continued to eye her. “Who is it that has proposed?”

“I am sure you do not know the man, Perseus,” she said with a wave of her hand, holding her cup out to her maid as she entered with the teapot. “He is certainly not known to me. I cannot fathom why you would be acquainted with him either.”

“Well, in the interest of dispelling curiosity,” Percy teased, “I should like to know his name regardless.”

“He is from a small town not far from here,” Silena sighed, stirring her sugar into her tea. “Lord Lukas Castellan, as I understand it.”

Percy’s hand froze just as he had begun to wrap his fingers around the handle of his teacup. “Surely you are mistaken, my lady,” he said carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You are certain of the name?”

“I would not forget such a thing, especially when such a short time has passed!” she protested. “The man’s name is Castellan, and the engagement is to be announced soon. I expect they will be married before month’s end.”

“It cannot be so,” Percy said, rising to his feet. 

“Percy, what are you doing?”

“I must speak to Lord Grace at once,” he said, already hurrying toward the hall. “Please excuse my rude departure, Lady Beckendorf.”

“Percy!” Silena called after him, clearly not appeased with his minimal response. But Percy was not dissuaded, his pace only quickening as he raced toward the stables. 

-

Berkeley Place // Perseus

The side of his hand hurt from pounding on the front door of Berkeley Place, a knocking that blended into the thundering crashes echoing overheard. Stinging rain hit his face and burned his eyes as he peered up at the drawn curtains of the windows of the upper rooms, knowing that he would have to be heard eventually. 

Finally, just as he was considering searching for an alternate entrance, the door opened. 

“My word,” a short maid with tightly pulled-back brown hair muttered, pulling the door open wide. “Please, come inside,” she urged. “I will have someone fetch you a blanket at once.”

“There is no time,” Percy said, hardly even pausing as he started up the hall. “I must speak to Lord Grace at once.”

“Sir, I apologize, but I must insist that you allow me to go and collect my lord at once,” the woman said. “Please, you may wait by the fire—”

“Jason!” Percy called out, ignoring the pleas of the maid. She looked terrified and he couldn’t blame her. He tried to calm his nerves enough to address her without frightening her further. “Lord Grace— where is he?”

“Perhaps if y-you can simply tell me your name, sir,” she stuttered nervously, “I will be able to fetch him for you.”

Percy cursed loudly and the maid blushed in response. “Yes, alright then, but make haste,” he snapped. “Please inform the lord that the Duke of Argos wishes to have an audience with him.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mellie,” a deep, careful voice said. Percy lifted his eyes, spotting Jason at the end of the hall with a stern expression on his face. The usually bright afternoon sky had been so dimmed by the storm overhead that the hallway was nearly entirely cast in shadows. “I have no interest in entertaining the ramblings of a madman.”

“You know not what you have done, Jason,” Percy said, taking a step toward Jason. “You must hear what I have to say— now, while there is still time to undo this thing that you have set into motion.”

“I know that you wish to disrupt the course that has been set but it is too late,” Jason said. “I am preparing Anna’s dowry at first light. It is finished.”

“You cannot do this— you do not know what he is like,” he pleaded. “You will be destroying her, and yourself by association. Do you truly hate me so much that you would lead your own kin to the gallows rather than accept my help?”

“I do not require your help, Jackson,” Jason hissed, his fists knotting at his sides. He jabbed a finger toward Percy, stepping forward. “You will not interfere with this union. I know what you plan for her— I will not allow it.”

“I have no plan for the girl,” Percy refuted. “I only hope to prevent her guardian from making a dire mistake. Lukas Castellan is not what he claims; surely you will hear the truth.”

Jason laughed bitterly. “And surely you can see the irony of this,” he scoffed. “That you, a man whom has never acquainted himself with honesty, is begging for the chance to dispute a claim by a noble man. Save your breath, Jackson.”

Percy exhaled, his brow creased in exasperation. He dropped his hands to his sides, palms out and open. “Jason, my old friend,” he said calmly, willing every bit of desperation that he felt to be heard in his voice, “I beg only for you to hear me.”

There was a brief moment where Percy allowed himself to believe that he had done it. For one second, Jason’s face appeared to soften and Percy thought that he had convinced him to listen. And then, almost as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone again. 

“I have no interest in your words, Your Grace,” Jason shook his head. “I will not allow you to spoil the remainder of my afternoon. We must depart for the di Angelos’ shortly and there is still much left to do. Mellie?” he said snidely, already turning back toward the doorway that he had appeared in moments before. “See the Duke out.”

The door slammed closed behind Jason and a weight settled onto Percy’s shoulders in the silence that followed his sudden departure. He had failed. Miss Chase would be wed, as Silena had claimed, and she would be ruined for it. The foyer was so deathly still that he could hear the droplets from his coat pattering against the marble floor, realizing for the first time that a puddle had begun to form at his feet. 

“Miss—  Mellie, was it?” he asked as he turned back toward the frightened young woman. “I hope you will forgive my intrusion. I do not make a habit of bringing the rain indoors with me.”

“It is quite alright, Your Grace,” she said as she bowed her head. “I will be sure it is addressed.”

Percy nodded, clearing his throat as he began to step back toward the door. As he passed the door to the drawing room, a hand gripped his wrist. He looked up into the bright, cognac-coloured eyes of a woman that he did not recognize. 

“Forgive me for being so forward, Your Grace,” she said quietly, glancing up the corridor with a wild glint in her eyes. “I… I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“And who might you be?” he asked, trying to be gentle as he pulled his wrist free from her touch. “You do not look like a maid.”

“I am a friend to Annabeth,” the girl explained. 

Annabeth. So that was what Miss Chase was called in private. Percy felt the pull of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The name was sweet and it suited her— far more fitting than the tight-laced Anna by which she was so often called. He wondered why he had never heard it before. He wanted to hear it again.

The girl must have mistaken his pause for disapproval because her cheeks flushed as she hurried to correct herself. “Miss Chase, I mean,” she stammered. “My name is Phillipa.”

The name registered with his consciousness only vaguely but it was enough to place her. He recalled the name as being the guest that Jason had spoken of when he and Anna had visited Beckendorf Manor just a few nights prior. He was not sure why she felt so emboldened that she would interject herself in such a way, but her eyes told him plainly that she meant no harm.

“McLean,” Percy responded, pulling the surname from his memory. “Yes, Miss Chase spoke of you at dinner night before last. What is it that you require, Miss?”

“I have heard what you’ve just said to Lord Grace,” Phillipa continued, her voice low. Her eyes continued to dart nervously between Percy’s face and the door that Jason had disappeared through a moment before. “I wish to learn what you know of this Lord Castellan.”

“For what purpose?” he pried, lifting his chin in uncertainty. “Surely you do not wish to burden Miss Chase with the inescapable news.”

“If you will but share what you know with me, Your Grace, I believe that I might be able to change Jason’s mind.” She said it with just enough certainty to be convincing, though her voice trembled slightly. “Seeing Annabeth unhappy is bad enough— I would rather die than know that she and Jason have been inveigled.”

Phillipa’s eyes were deep with feeling and honesty, the look of one that is more family than friend. It took no convincing at all for Percy to believe that her intentions were pure. Still, he worried that she would have any power at all to help.

“Please, Your Grace,” she said again. “Allow me to try and do what you were unable to. She is kind and sincere and she deserves a match born out of mutual affection, not cajoling.” Phillipa’s hands reached forward again, boldly taking his hand into her own. “I will accept the blame and the consequence; all I ask is that you give me the tools that will help me to protect her. If there is something that you know, you must tell me.”

There was something in her touch and her urgency that moved him. He knew nothing of this woman except that both Jason and Miss Chase considered her a friend, but perhaps that was all he needed to know. Her love for Anna — Annabeth — was so apparent that he felt he could not deny Phillipa anything that she asked in her honor.

“If you believe that it will help,” Percy nodded, “I will tell you all that I know. But it cannot be here— I will not have you punished should Jason become angered that I have not departed.”

Phillipa nodded, though her lips turned into a frown. “Where then, Your Grace?” 

Percy mulled over the thought. Sighly defeatedly, he pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. “It is half past five now, Miss McLean. The ball will begin promptly at seven o’clock— do you think you would be able to slip away unnoticed at that time?”

“I do not see any reason that I would not be able to do so,” Phillipa confirmed. “Miss Chase is nearly ready; I only came down to alert the chauffeur that we would be ready to depart soon.”

“How is she?” he asked before he could stop himself. Silena’s recollection of the afternoon had not left his mind since she’d spoken it into the air. It troubled him to think that she might be right.

“She is distraught,” the girl frowned, her sad eyes losing some of their spark. “I fear it has been quite the undertaking to ready her appearance, to say nothing of the work it will yet take to attempt to ease her mind. Perhaps the notion of dancing will lift her spirits a touch.”

“Yes, she is a wonderful dancer,” he noted with a tinge of sadness. “I am sorry to hear that she has taken the news so poorly, though I can certainly understand. Unfortunately, I feel she might be even more validated in her concerns than it appears on the surface.” 

“That is why our work is so important. I will take care to depart as soon as I can,” Phillipa said quietly. “Shall I ask for you upon my arrival?”

“Yes,” Percy nodded, taking a step backward. He had already lingered for far too long. “I will make sure that our maids know to expect your arrival. Travel safely, Miss McLean.”

“You as well, Your Grace,” she nodded, beginning to make her way back up the hall and to the stairs. Percy hurried toward the front door and, after another string of apologies to Mellie, disappeared into the stormy evening.

"And if you think tough men are dangerous,
wait until you see what weak men are capable of.”
― Jordan B. Peterson

Westover Hall // Lord Grace

No matter how many parties were thrown in a given Season, none was ever quite so spectacular as the grand ball hosted by the di Angelos of Westover Hall. The viscount was one of the wealthiest men in the ton, perhaps even the region, and his estate was entirely fitting for a man of his caliber. The family was small but prominent, with the viscountess playing an important role as a well-known philanthropist in the community. 

Miss di Angelo had taken her first steps into society that Season as well, though she did not seem to be off to a successful start by anyone’s standards. Her will was strong and she seemed determined to undermine her mother’s attempts at introducing her to suitors— a trial with which Jason was all too familiar. Her brother, Lord Nico di Angelo, was (as far as anyone had been able to gather) a recluse. But with the focus so purposefully directed at Miss di Angelo for the time being, the family seemed content with the arrangement and the young lord was left to his own matters.

Jason had attended a gathering at Westover Hall only once prior to that evening, and it had not been for an event so grand as this. That night, no expense had been spared. Every surface seemed to have been decorated with gold-plating and jewel-encrusted trimmings. Not an inch of the room had gone unnoticed, and the entire ballroom seemed to glitter in the candlelight. 

Even Annabeth, who had been adamantly ignoring him all afternoon, seemed to brighten at the sight. Her grey eyes widened, reflecting the shimmering room beautifully as she took it all in. He was grateful again for Lady Beckendorf’s invitation, as her new dress (a light cream color with golden embroidery that was catching the light beautifully as she walked) was in perfect complement to the di Angelos’ décor. Her wonder faded once she realized he was watching her expression, and Jason felt another pang of guilt. 

They had hardly entered the room when she vanished from his side, hurrying to secure a dance card. He could not blame her urgency— perhaps she had gotten it into her head that she would be able to secure another proposal and escape the arrangement made with Lord Castellan. And perhaps, he thought to himself, it would be better that way. 

One thing was certain, at least: Annabeth’s interest in the ritual had surged. She was perfectly demure as she wandered the room, filling her card and always staying just out of Jason’s reach. He was content to allow her to mingle. It was the least that he could do after the turmoil he had put her through that very afternoon. 

The crying did not leave his memory. He had gone so far as to break into Frederick Chase’s liquor cabinet, where spirits that had been preserved for a decade were waiting to help dull his senses, and still he could not forget the sounds of her heart breaking in his hands. Regret had seized him almost immediately, but it was finished now. He would have to live with himself, one way or another, and he only hoped that the plan did not turn out disastrous. 

When he considered this, he thought once more of the visit from his old companion and the severity of his gaze as he’d stood dripping in the foyer. In the days that Jason had considered him a friend, Perseus had not been the type to make such claims without cause, a fact that Jason had not been able to stop considering from the moment that he had turned him away. It gnawed angrily at his chest, making him wish that he had been able to put his stubborn pride aside and hear the man out. But the moment had passed, and whatever Perseus claimed to know had been washed away in the afternoon storms.

“Lord Grace?” 

Jason turned, startled by the sudden appearance of a servant at his side. “Yes?”

“I am sorry to be interrupting your evening,” the man said softly, “but there is a woman requesting you. She is not on the attendee list but she says that she is a guest in your house for the summer. A Miss Phillipa Mc—”

“Where is she?” 

“Oh— of course,” the servant stammered, clearly surprised by Jason’s startling and immediate reaction to hearing Piper’s name. “Please, follow me and I will take you to her.” 

Jason was already moving toward the doorway as the reply met his ears, the servant half-jogging to stay ahead of him. His heart felt like it was in a vice. Piper would not have come to Westover Hall without reason, and any reason that would have led her to seek him out after the day they’d had could not be a good one. It took too long to navigate the crowds and his annoyance and anticipation grew with each step.

“Pippa,” he breathed as the servant opened a door leading to a veranda. He rushed forward, longing to reach for her but catching himself at the last moment. “I— I am sorry.”

“That is not why I have come,” she shook her head, her jaw clenching at his apology, “and I fear that you will only be angrier when you hear my true reason, but I cannot let you do this.”

“What are you speaking of?” he asked, his brow creasing in confusion. “What has brought you all this way?”

“You cannot allow Lord Castellan to continue courting Annabeth,” Piper said with finality. Her eyes and tone combined to make the words sound like doctrine, like there was no way to go against them without facing dire consequence. “This thing you have set into motion, it must be stopped at once.”

Jason sighed. “You did not come here tonight to lecture me about Annabeth’s betrothal, surely.”

“I heard what the Duke said to you this afternoon— or, rather, what he tried to say,” she corrected, “and what you were too thick-headed to hear.” He felt himself bristling at the words even as he tried to maintain his composure. Piper, however, was undeterred. “You may save your wrath for now, my lord, as I do not have time for it. This is a matter that must be addressed posthaste.”

“I do not know what Jackson has told you—”

“It is my turn to speak, Jason,” Piper said, and the fire in her eyes was enough to still his tongue. He swallowed, then nodded once. “How did you not know that the Castellans are frauds? Did you research the man at all before you sold our Annabeth to ease your own burden?”

“What?” he sneered. “They aren’t—”

“They are!” she interrupted, her voice rising half an octave in its insistence and urgency. “The Duke has told me that Lord Castellan is completely bankrupt. He is after Annabeth’s dowry and her inheritance— both of which you have so generously set out before him on a silver platter in your rush to solve a problem of your own devising.”

Jason bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep his expression neutral but he felt the heat rising on his neck anyway. All around them, partygoers enjoyed the festivities; Castellan may well be inside for all he knew. “And how does His Grace have such information?”

“The family owes him money,” Piper explained. “The debt is one of the reasons he has come to Pallas in the first place— apparently Lukas has run up quite a balance on the betting books that Jackson’s late-stepfather was overseeing in secret. Since his arrival, he has been trying to reclaim that which he is owed and has learned much, including that the entire family is destitute.”

“It cannot be,” Jason said, his hands shaking with the understanding that he had made a grave mistake. “Perhaps Jackson is spreading rumors to hurt Annabeth’s chances.”

“Let your grievance with the man die, Jason!” she pleaded. “I do not know what has caused you so much distrust but surely you have to see that he is trying to save her from ruin. Lord Castellan is lying to you and you are giving him everything he wants. I don’t care about the money— think about your cousin!”

Annabeth. She was inside, somewhere, and there was a good chance that Castellan was as well. He wrestled briefly with his thoughts, pulled in one way by his memories of Jackson’s character and in the other by his remorse at forcing Annabeth into such an undesirable match. As much as he distrusted Jackson’s opinion on matters of respectability, even Jason had to admit that he would be a fool not to pursue the claims. He was searching for reasons to dissolve the arrangement that he had so hastily made in his blinding pain, and if this rumor had even an ounce of truth to it, it would be enough to free Annabeth from her fate.

Finally arriving at a decision, Jason reached out and took Piper’s hand gently. His blue eyes searched hers for any glint of forgiveness, even though he knew well that he did not deserve it. Something in her face softened at his touch and he prayed that there might still be some chance that he could absolve his sins. But not now, not tonight, he had to remind himself. There were pressing matters that needed to be addressed before he would be in a position worthy of seeking her mercy. 

Not to mention Annabeth’s.

“I will set it all right,” he said after another moment, squeezing her hand once before he dropped it. Piper said nothing, only straightened her back and swallowed as she looked away. He wanted desperately to say more but there were no words on his tongue. Jason turned and hurried back inside, searching frantically for any sign of Annabeth’s golden gown among the tightly-packed crowd of attendees. He had to find her quickly— while there was still time to unravel this mistake.

-

Westover Hall // Miss Chase

Annabeth had always liked Miss Bianca di Angelo. She was a few years or so younger, but she had always kept up with the older girls of the ton. They had attended the same finishing school in London several summers prior, and had become close almost immediately. Bianca was vibrantly witty and well-spoken. She was an independent mind, something that was so rare to find among young women their age, and it drew Annabeth to her instantaneously. 

The pair had always enjoyed one another’s company. Annabeth often spent a week or more with Bianca in the winter months when the social season was but a distant memory and the ballroom at Westover Hall stood empty and silent. When they were much younger, they had danced barefoot across the wide open floor, thinking about the parties that they would someday be invited to attend.

Now that they were older, those parties held much less magic. 

It was slow, tedious work, but Annabeth eventually made her way to the floor, enjoying the first dance of the evening with a rather shy, somewhat clumsy Lieutenant Zhang as her partner. He was apologetic when the music came to a stop, but the regards were unneeded. She’d enjoyed herself and found him to be much more interesting of a conversation partner than she ever would have guessed.

Her next dance was with Lord William Solace: a slender, handsome man with a blinding smile and hair that was at least as golden as her own. He had bright eyes that reflected the candlelight and the glimmering room and his steps were as graceful and agile as any partner she had ever had. The music was upbeat and he knew the song and composer from memory, a small fact that both amused and impressed her. Lord Solace told her a bit of history about the piece as they danced and she enjoyed the spark in his eye— it was always so lovely, after all, to see someone speaking on something that they enjoyed.

As the second dance came to its end, Annabeth was desperate for a bit of air. The di Angelos’ ball was renowned as being one of the most important of the Season and anyone worth knowing was in attendance— which meant that the room was so overcrowded that it was stifling hot, and loud with conversation. She collected a glass of lemonade before carefully making her way toward the back terrace that overlooked the gardens.

The moment that she crossed over the threshold, she felt relief. The cool night air settled onto her skin, soothing the warmth that was creeping up her neck. Now that she had removed herself from the main room, she was acutely aware of how dewy her face and neck had become, and the gentle wind helped to rid her of the perspiration quickly. The lemonade was ice cold and delicious, with a hint of some other flavor in addition to the citrus— pomegranate, perhaps. 

“Miss Chase,” a voice called out. “I am so pleased to see you in such good spirits.” 

Annabeth’s eyes flitted closed in recognition, her blood turning as cold as the drink in her hand. Footsteps moved closer and she knew that she could not ignore him for much longer. Though her hand trembled slightly, knocking ice against the sides of the glass, she maintained a mostly even expression as she turned to face him.

“Lord Castellan,” she said sweetly, as sweetly as she could manage. Her heart raced, a nervousness that she could not explain overwhelming her senses as she stood before him.

“I was not sure if you would be in attendance tonight, but I am glad that you are,” he said, his words practiced and measured, as though he had thought about this exchange a dozen times. It was a shame that she found him so detestable because he was, in truth, rather attractive. Lord Castellan was charismatic, with a strong jaw and eyes so blue that it should have been impossible. If it were not for the feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach, she might have been able to convince herself that Jason’s arrangement was not such a horrifying prospect.

“It is a party, is it not?” Annabeth asked, trying to keep her tone appropriately interested though she wanted nothing so much as she wanted for this conversation to be over. The wind seemed to pick up suddenly and, to her dismay, the only other party on the terrace began to retreat indoors. “Perhaps we should—”

“I think it’s rather nice out here, don’t you?” he interrupted, as if he had sensed her escape attempt. “There is nothing quite so refreshing and invigorating as a nighttime chill. We could take a walk through the gardens if you would like.”

Annabeth eyed the arm that he held out for her but made no indication of accepting it. “I do not think that it would be appropriate, my lord,” she remarked, allowing more than a tinge of judgment in her words. “We should not even be on this terrace alone; it is improper.”

“What care do you have for what is proper?” Lord Castellan laughed, his voice warm and full. He was so relaxed that it was almost contagious, and if she had not been so on-edge, she might very well have fallen into the trap. “It will not matter soon, regardless.”

Annabeth swallowed, looking down into her glass. She did not wish to be reminded of the bitter fact, as hopeless as it was to wish it away. “I suppose, but for now—”

“For now, it is just you and I,” he interrupted for the second time, and Annabeth felt her stomach tilt uncomfortably. He took a step toward her and she kept the distance, stumbling backward as he advanced. “Where are you off to, Miss Chase?” A lewd look crossed over his features, settling at his lips as they pulled into a salacious smirk. “Shall I be prepared to have to chase you like this anytime I wish to have you to myself?”

“This is inappropriate,” Annabeth said clearly, hoping that her voice sounded more intimidating than it felt. “You should leave me.”

“I do not believe you understand how these things work, my dear,” he shook his head. “Your cousin — your guardian — has accepted my offer. Once I have received the agreed upon sum, there will be nothing left to do but sign the license. We are as good as married, Anna.”

Her chest was tight with the urge to run but she knew that she could never outpace him, certainly not in a gown, and it would only serve to anger him further. Her eyes darted back toward the doors, to the ballroom that she’d found so oppressive just moments before and would give anything now to feel safe within its brightly lit, crowded confines.

In her moment of hesitation, he moved. Castellan advanced toward her, closing the distance between them. In a rush of instinct and adrenaline, Annabeth threw the contents of her glass into his face, causing an angry hiss of pain when the citrus met his eyes. She tried to take advantage of the momentary distraction to push past him, but she simply wasn’t quick enough. Castellan reached out, his hand closely tightly around her wrist.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he warned, tugging her sharply and sending a shooting pain through her shoulder as her arm twisted at an unnatural angle. The empty glass slipped from her fingers, shattering at her feet. She couldn’t help the frightened whimper that escaped her lips at the show of aggression, her eyes squeezed shut from both shock and pain.

Then the pressure on her wrist vanished. Annabeth staggered backward from the momentum of the sudden release of the hold she’d been fighting against, her shoulders bumping roughly against the brick wall. Wincing, she opened her eyes, not quite believing what she was seeing. 

Castellan had released her from his grasp because he needed both hands to tug at the thumbs currently pressing into his windpipe. The Duke of Argos slowly backed Lord Castellan against the stone column that supported the terrace roof, his hands seeming to somehow tighten even further once he had the man pinned. 

Annabeth rubbed at her wrist as she continued to stare. She could see Jackson’s lips moving, his eyes dark and narrowed and he spoke to Castellan in a voice so low and dangerous that she couldn’t make out the words even at her short distance. Her own breaths were shaky and shallow as she fought back the maelstrom of panic and shock that was still coursing through her, unable to pull her eyes away from the one-sided exchange. 

Castellan’s hands grasped at Jackson’s, trying in vain to pull himself free of the vice-like grip that the Duke still had on his throat as he continued to make grotesque sounds in his effort to breathe. Without warning, Jackson released him and Castellan inhaled with a loud, fragmented gasp. His focus shifted in an instant, hurrying over to where Annabeth was still frozen in place.

“Annabeth,” he said gently, his eyes searching her face, “are you alright? Are you hurt?”

A brief pang of recognition accompanied his words and she found herself curious as to how he had come to learn the name that only her family used. Before she could either respond or inquire, another voice cut through the night air. 

“What in God’s name is this?” Jason demanded, crossing the distance from the terrace door to her side in two strides. His eyes glanced to where she was cradling her already bruising wrist for only a moment before he turned his anger to the Duke. “What have you done?”

Annabeth stepped forward. “Jason—”

“You are mistaken,” Jackson protested, taking a step back. “I have only—”

“This animal attacked me,” Castellan managed to croak, his voice barely audible in all its hoarseness. “I discovered him trying to take advantage of Miss Chase and when I attempted to defend her honor—”

“He is lying!” Annabeth pleaded. “Jason, please, you must listen to me. Perseus has done nothing wrong.” Her cheeks flushed, silently wishing that she could retract her last statement, correct her informal use of the Duke’s first name and avoid the impropriety of the ordeal, but thankfully no one seemed to notice, much less care. “It was Lord Castellan that accosted me. I cannot bear to think of where it might have led if His Grace had not overheard and come to my aid.”

Jason looked from the hacking Lord Castellan, to the shattered glass on the stone floor, to the carefully composed face of Jackson— whose eyes were still fixed to Annabeth with concern. He opened his mouth to speak but a dozen other voices overpowered it. Their exchange had attracted attention. She turned to see, to her abject horror, a steady stream of party guests filtering onto the terrace to see what had caused such commotion, each one craning their necks and muttering theories and assumptions. 

Helpless, Annabeth looked to Jason for direction. For once, even he did not seem to know the answer. The proper thing to do was unclear. Would it be made better or worse to set the record straight then and there? Their eyes met, each one pleading with the other and neither able to speak. 

“These people are deranged,” Castellan said with as much volume as he could manage. “What they say of the Duke of Argos is true,” he coughed. “I was only trying to save Miss Chase from the hands of this monster.”

A murmur shot through the crowd in an instant and it was finished. Jason swallowed, his jaw tightening. He had delayed too long and allowed Lord Castellan to have the first word. Whatever was said now might as well be libel, hearsay. There was, of course, the added complication of the Duke’s sordid reputation to consider as well— he would already have enough votes against him with only rumors as evidence. Tonight would not help his case. 

Annabeth kept her words to herself, too frightened to misstep and ruin the night even more than she already had. What felt like one hundred eyes were trained to Jason as he looked at Jackson but the Duke was already stepping forward.

“I have nothing to confess and I refuse to engage in a debate here tonight,” he said definitively. He jabbed a finger in Lord Castellan’s direction. “See for yourself that this man deserved my wrath. Truth will come to light,” Jackson said, looking to Annabeth with remorseful eyes, “it always does.” And then he turned, storming down the stone steps that led to the garden and disappeared into the night.

There was a shocked silence following the dramatic departure of the Duke. No one dared to speak, parting politely to make a path for the viscount and his wife to step through the crowd. “What do you have to say for your ward, Lord Grace?” the viscount asked, his deep voice carrying over the group as a servant placed a glass of water into Castellan’s hands.

Jason glared at Lord Castellan and the spot where he was currently standing, making quite a scene in his coughing and wheezing in a desperate attempt to garner sympathy. He turned to Annabeth, as if he hoped that seeing the state of her would steel his nerves in some way. When he turned back toward Lord di Angelo, his back was straighter and his confidence was returning. 

“What His Grace says is true,” he said affirmatively, causing a wave of quiet gasps to filter through the crowd. “It is Lord Castellan that is to blame for this scene. The Duke was only acting in my cousin’s defense. Lord di Angelo, Lady di Angelo,” Jason said, nodding to each of them in turn, “I apologize that this altercation has caused such a disturbance. Miss Chase and I will retire to our home at once.”

“No,” Lady di Angelo protested, surprising everyone, especially her husband. She patted his arm once before she stepped forward. In a few short steps, she reached Annabeth’s side, pulling one of her hands into her own. “If it is true what you claim, then there is justice to be had this night.”

“I seek no recompense, my lady,” Annabeth said sincerely, her cheeks burning red at the fuss and attention and prying eyes that were glued to her every move. “I only wish to put this night out of my memory and pray that the actions of one man will not be held against me.”

Lord Castellan choked back a scoff. “Surely you do not believe what this girl claims!” he said with all of his remaining voice. “The Duke is a philanderer, a wastrel! Are you really so blind that you will believe his word over mine?”

“You speak of wastrels as though you yourself are not guilty,” Jason snapped. Annabeth had never seen him so angry, his eyes cold and severe. Whatever animosity brewed between him and the Duke seemed to be forgotten for the moment, his wrath directed solely at Lord Castellan. “Yes,” he nodded when Castellan gaped in shock at the accusation, “I know about the debt you owe, Lord Castellan. I know more than enough about you.”

“We had an arrangement,” the man hissed. “I am to marry Miss Chase.”

Annabeth felt her lip beginning to tremble, but Lady di Angelo squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Show us the license, then,” she said clearly. She spoke with a finality that Annabeth could only dream of possessing— but then again, when you were married to the richest man in town, the confidence probably came easy.

“What?” Lord Castellan murmured, rubbing his throat.

“The license, my lord,” she repeated. “If it is as you say and the dowry has been exchanged—”

“It hasn’t,” Jason corrected. “And it won’t be. Lord Castellan, you should consider our arrangement dissolved. Your behavior here tonight has shown you are not worthy of Anna’s hand— or any of the ladies in attendance, for that matter.”

Annabeth could do nothing but stare at the floor. Her face was burning from the attention and the embarrassment. She had never wanted anything in her life as badly as she wanted to turn the clock back only twenty minutes or so— to have never set foot on this terrace in the first place. 

“This is preposterous!” Castellan spat. “We had a deal.”

“Lord Castellan,” the viscount said carefully, a warning edge to his voice, “you would do well to see yourself out, I believe. It seems you have trouble with your creditors to attend to— leave quietly now, with whatever remains of your dignity, and we will consider this matter resolved.”

With his jaw clenched tight, his throat already beginning to grow discolored around his damaged windpipe, Castellan stared angrily at Jason. Annabeth worried for a moment that he might lash out again, but whatever gods were watching over their evening had decided to grant them one small mercy. Without another word, Lord Castellan turned and disappeared down the steps, just as the Duke had done a few minutes before.

“Are you well, my dear?” Lady di Angelo asked as Miss di Angelo pushed her way through the chittering crowd. She looked so much like her mother, it was absolutely uncanny to see them side by side.

“I believe so,” Annabeth nodded. “I fear my wrist will be sore for a time, but I think I should survive.”

“He hurt you?” Bianca balked, her eyes widening. “Mother, we cannot let him get away—”

“Your father will handle it, Bianca,” Lady di Angelo said, glancing over her shoulder to where the viscount was speaking to Jason quietly. “I trust that he and Lord Grace will discuss the matter and do what needs to be done.”

Annabeth wanted to be angry about that — about letting men fight her battles — but she did not currently possess the strength to be impertinent. “It is alright,” she assured Bianca. “I am only relieved that his true nature was discovered now, before our betrothal had been made official.”

“It is appalling to think that such a thing could be possible,” Bianca said softly, her eyes still deep with worry. “I feel as if we have all been lied to. Who knows what the other men are capable of?”

Lady di Angelo turned her attention to her daughter, cupping the girl’s cheek with her satin-gloved hand. “You should not worry yourself with things like that, mi amore,” she said gently, her voice warm and velvety in her reassurance. “Trust that we will vet for you— you will not be placed in such a position.”

Annabeth felt the heat returning to her face once more, but this time it was in defense of Jason. She wanted to speak out, stand up for him and explain that she understood the precarious place he was in as the guardian of one of the eldest debutantes of the peerage. She wanted to tell them that they didn’t see the turmoil he put himself through as he worried that he was failing her.

But she kept her lips pressed into a tight line, instead. Because what Lady di Angelo had implied was true, wasn’t it? They had been put into this position tonight because Jason had acted rashly and had not done enough asking around before he agreed to Castellan’s proposal. She had nearly had her entire future ruined, all because of his shortsightedness. 

And though she loved him more than anyone else in her life — though she knew, even as she stood in that spot that night with fires of fury growing in her belly, that she would forgive him with time — she realized how angry she was with Jason for the first time. This all could have been avoided if he had just listened when she’d begged for him not to go through with the arrangement, when she’d cried right there in front of Lady Beckendorf on the front steps of Berkeley Place. 

The crowd of gawkers had begun to filter back inside, apparently bored with the scene now that the instigators had left the premises. Annabeth kept her expression as neutral as she could while she waited for Jason, listening to Lady di Angelo continuing to sooth Bianca’s fears until they too returned indoors. 

At last, Lord di Angelo turned his attention to Annabeth. “Miss Chase,” he said with a sympathetic frown, “I am devastated that this thing has occurred, tonight of all nights. I hope you will stay and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she replied with a polite nod, “but I must admit that my appetite for dancing is quite diminished. I think that I will ask my cousin to see me home.”

“Of course, my dear,” he agreed. The viscount glanced at Jason, then back at Annabeth. “I would warn you both that there will be much gossip about what happened here tonight. You should pay it no mind. It will die on its own, and if it does not, Lady di Angelo and I will see to it that it is dealt with.”

Annabeth did not have the slightest idea what that meant. She had no understanding of what power Lord di Angelo had over the rumors of the ton, but he seemed exceptionally confident that he could put a stop to them if needed. And so, Annabeth only smiled as Jason offered him his hand, appreciative of the di Angelos' generosity. 

They made their way back to the front of Westover Hall to wait for their carriage driver to return, and Jason had still not said a word. As the driver pulled to the end of the walk, Annabeth realized that their carriage was not empty.

“Who—”

“Phillipa,” Jason answered before she could even voice her question. “We both owe her a great deal, I fear. She is the one that told me of Castellan’s debts— without that keen bit of weaponized information in my arsenal, I am not sure that he would have been so quick to accept defeat.”

“Why is she here?” Annabeth asked as they continued walking, craning her neck to look at Jason questioningly.

“She came to warn me,” he said flatly, his jaw tight and eyes straight forward. Annabeth said nothing, letting her eyes fall to the ground as they neared the end of the walk. Finally, he sighed. “I have been a fool, Annabeth.”

“Yes,” she nodded as the carriage door opened for them, “you have.” 

Jason swallowed. She knew that accepting failure or shortcoming was not easy for him, and she acknowledged the brief flash of guilt that she felt at causing him discomfort. The anger that she’d been fighting back was winning out, however, and Annabeth found herself ignoring the guilt and climbing into the carriage with her chin high. 

Piper took Annabeth’s hands wordlessly as soon as she settled onto the seat beside her, and Annabeth let her head rest on her friend’s shoulder. “We have had a simply unbearable evening, Piper,” she sighed as Piper reached to run a hand over Annabeth’s hair. 

“What happened?” she asked, but Annabeth could tell that the question had not been directed at her. That suited her just fine— she was in no mood to relive the events.

Jason exhaled slowly, giving Annabeth an apologetic look from his seat on the opposite side of the carriage. He gave an abbreviated version of the story, including the crowd that had overheard the falling out, and the sudden departure of both the Duke and Lord Castellan. When he’d finished, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“Who will you have her married off to now?” Piper asked accusingly, her tone far more harsh that Annabeth was used to hearing it. She suddenly felt like an onlooker in a conversation that was not meant for her. “I am certain you have already lined up a fitting candidate.”

“Now is not the time for such discussion, Phillipa,” Jason answered coldly. “The matter holds no bearing on tonight— I see no reason to disturb Annabeth further.”

“But you do not deny it,” Annabeth noted, lifting her head and sitting up straighter. “You have already begun thinking on this.”

“I would not be a good guardian if I were not thinking ahead, Annabeth,” he sighed, pinching his nose again. “Please— we do not need to discuss this tonight.”

Annabeth’s throat felt tight and sore, like the effort that she’d been making to fight back her indignant tears was becoming too much. Looking at Jason was impossible suddenly, and the anguish in his expression nearly made her feel sick. She looked to Piper instead. “How did you know?”

“Pardon?”

“About the debt,” Annabeth clarified. “How did you learn of Castellan’s debt?”

Piper’s eyes shot toward Jason again, as sharp and dark as ever. “You did not tell her.”

“I have not had the opportunity,” he said with exasperation. “You think me a villain but you do not know what tonight has been like. There was no time for a full explanation.”

“Surely you could have spared—” Piper began but stopped, pursing her lips momentarily before she looked back at Annabeth. “The Duke of Argos paid a visit to the house this afternoon, while you were upstairs getting ready for the ball.”

Annabeth felt her brow furrow sharply. That was perhaps the last thing she’d been expecting Piper to say. “Jackson? Why?”

“Lady Beckendorf returned to her home in a state of despair after she witnessed your reaction to the news that Jason delivered,” she explained, her inflection making it quite plain that she had not forgiven Jason’s shortsightedness either. “When she told the Duke of your imminent engagement, he came straight over in the midst of the storm to try and talk some sense into your bull-headed cousin.”

“Jason,” Annabeth shook her head, “you told me that Piper was the one that told you about the debts.”

“I was,” Piper interrupted before Jason could defend himself. “Because Jason would not hear the man out. Luckily, I overheard the exchange and sought the truth myself. I came here tonight straight from Beckendorf Manor, accompanied by the Duke who asked me to come and try to make Jason see reason.”

Annabeth stared at Jason, resentment growing stronger with each pitch of the carriage on the pavers. “So if Piper had not heard Jackson’s warnings and gone to speak with him herself,” she said, her tone flat, “you would have… you were simply going to stand by and allow it to happen.”

“Annabeth, it is not nearly so simple,” he shook his head. “I am sorry that I acted so foolishly— I was not in my right mind at the time, and you would have been an innocent victim of my poor choices, and for that, I will forever be remorseful. But you must try to understand.”

“I am listening.”

“I want only what is best for you, and at the time, I did not have any reason to think that Castellan was a bad match,” Jason explained. “I am sorry that I did not look into him more— if I had only done a tiny bit of digging, this entire situation could have been avoided. You deserve companionship, Annabeth,” he said, frowning slightly. “I will do what I can to see to it that you find it.”

“And what if I am not agreeable?” Annabeth asked. “If I do not approve of the men you suggest, how long will your patience last, Jason?”

“As much as I am sure that it will disappoint both of you to hear it, I will not apologize for helping you make acquaintance with responsible, worthy men,” Jason said, “but I will do my best to pay more attention to your opinions, as it is ultimately the most important factor. I… I am sorry that I have not done so before.”

Annabeth maintained his gaze for another moment before she turned away, letting her attention focus on the dark landscape outside the carriage windows. No one said another word, the quiet sound of the wooden wheels rolling over cobblestones providing a steady background noise to their otherwise silent ride. 

The effects of that night would ripple through the rest of the Season. Even though the worst had passed (at least, Annabeth sincerely hoped that it had), there would be fallout. First, it would be those rumors that Lord di Angelo had warned her about, and they would not be kind. And of course, she would have to have it out with Jason eventually. They could not go on like this in perpetuity— especially not when he’d made it clear that he was already beginning to think of suitors that were acceptable. 

Probably that thought should have frightened her more than it did. Perhaps it was that she was so entirely overwhelmed by the events of the evening, but Annabeth felt resigned to accepting Jason’s notion. If he wanted to continue with the Season as if nothing had transpired, she would play along. The rules of the game, however, were going to change.

Jason had agreed that her opinion should be a deciding factor moving forward, and she intended to make sure that he did not soon forget it. The next assembly was not for a few days yet, and with any luck, the excitement of what had happened on the terrace of Westover Hall would be calmed by then and she would be able to enjoy herself without too much of a stir.

And maybe, she thought as she stared down at her hands where they rested in her lap, she would see him there. The memory of how the Duke had rushed to her aid brought a fire to her cheeks that made her thankful for the dark carriage. In the moment, she believed that the rush of adrenaline combined with the fear that she’d felt being replaced with relief at the arrival of help had been to blame for the strange feeling that had begun to swell in her chest, but now… Now — as she thought of the way he had said her name so carefully, checking in on her well-being with a sincerity so genuine that she couldn’t possibly have missed it, and ultimately providing the final nail in the coffin of Castellan’s façade — she realized that the feeling was something different altogether. 

When the carriage arrived at Berkeley Place at last, the occupants disembarked in the same silence that they had shared since leaving Westover Hall. Quiet, obligatory remarks were exchanged before Jason, Piper, and Annabeth set off to their own rooms. Annabeth had only just changed into a nightdress when she heard a soft knock on the door.

At first she thought she was hearing things, but the knock came again, just as soft as the first. She crossed the room, pulling the door open slowly. “Mellie?”

“I am so sorry to disturb you, Miss Chase,” Mellie said, her voice barely a whisper. She glanced over her shoulder, back up the hallway toward the master suite where Jason was surely still awake, probably pacing a trail into the hardwood floors. When Mellie looked back, she held out a small piece of folded paper. “A man left this for you, not long before you arrived. I apologize that it is so late, but he asked that I not deliver it until Lord Grace had retired.”

Annabeth’s stomach pitched at the thought of having to entertain even one more bit of correspondence from Lord Castellan, but she reached out to take the note anyway. “Thank you, Mellie. Your discretion is appreciated.”

“Of course, miss,” she nodded, offering Annabeth a soft smile. “I will leave you to rest, now.”

After bidding Mellie a good night, she closed the door and walked across the room to perch on the side of her mattress, tilting the note in the candlelight. She unfolded it cautiously, nervousness slowing her fingers, and her eyes widened in surprise. 

Annabeth,
I cannot begin to apologize for what transpired this night. I can only hope that you will not hold my outburst against me, and I covet the opportunity to ask your forgiveness in person. If we should see each other again, I pray you will do me the honor of saving a dance for me. It is all that I will ever ask of you.
Until then,
Perseus

“There is an ocean of silence between us…
and I am drowning in it.”
― Ranata Suzuki

The Ceres Conservatory // Miss Chase

Word traveled fast in Pallas, and not a word faster than that of the exciting exchange that had been witnessed on the terrace of Westover Hall. One would be hard-pressed to find a singular soul that had not heard tell of the altercation, and the buzz was abounding for several days. The rumors had finally begun to calm when news broke of Lord Castellan’s sudden and unannounced departure from Pallas, with little to suggest that he would ever return. It brought about a new wave of murmuring for a time, but Annabeth (and Jason, for that matter) was relieved to find that her dissolved engagement had become gossip of the past. 

Nearly two full weeks passed before Annabeth decided she was ready to accept another invitation. She had been more than content to allow several gatherings to pass without her while she let the dust settle, but she could tell that Jason was growing antsy. He had been patient with her since they’d returned from Westover Hall, and the animosity between them had mostly faded— a change that they both welcomed. 

Still, she knew that they were losing precious time if she had any hopes of making her own decision in the matter. May was now well upon them and the Season was heating up. Their time was growing shorter with each passing day, slowly closing the window that Annabeth had made for herself. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and it did not go down easily, but she knew that being a recluse would do her no good. Though she was rather hesitant, she acknowledged that the smartest move now would be to put herself together and return to society.

And so, when the Ceres Conservatory Gala invitation was delivered to Berkeley Place, Annabeth had informed Jason that she would be attending. It seemed to surprise him, and that did bring her some comfort, at least. If he was truly surprised that she was ready to get back to the routine of the Season, then it had to mean that he had been anticipating allowing her more time to process her feelings. He had promised her that he would pay more heed to her opinions, but she had not been so sure that he would remember it— so, she thought to herself, it was nice to know that he did.

Phillipa’s keen eye was to thank for the stunning gown she wore that evening— a flowing gown constructed of soft, wine red silk that she felt complimented her eyes. She was comfortable, for once, and even Jason seemed to be more relaxed as they rode silently to the Conservatory. His shoulders seemed softer, his brow unfurrowed for the first time in recent memory. It was nice to see, and she hoped that the gentleness would linger. 

Annabeth had yet to piece together what had transpired between Jason and Piper, but it was obvious that neither of them had any intentions of clearing the air any time soon. She had heard only the barest of details from Piper (namely that she and Jason had had a disagreement) and not a word from Jason, and so her mind was left wanting for answers that were not coming. In the meantime, they had filled their respective time in efforts of avoiding one another— a task at which they both seemed to excel.  

“I hope that you will enjoy yourself tonight, Jason,” Annabeth said as the carriage began to make its way up the gravel drive. Tall gas lamp-posts lined the laneway, flickering entrancingly in the early evening light as they pointed the way toward the event hall. “You are permitted to dance yourself, you know.”

“I am well aware of the provisos, Annabeth,” Jason replied, laughing quietly. It was a nice sound to hear after so many stress-filled days. “I have other matters to see to before I will feel satisfied with pursuing my own interests, I am afraid.”

“I think that it is only fair that if I am to be married by the end of the summer, you should also see to it that you are keeping a marriage-minded eye on the peerage,” she shrugged, feigning indifference as she glanced back out at the drive. “You have not entertained so much as one dance with a prospect since the start of the Season.”

“When my ward is in safe hands,” he said, matching her playfully disinterested tone, “perhaps I will have time to consider a wife of my own.”

Annabeth turned her head toward Jason, a bit taken aback by his response. “You do not hinge your potential for happiness on my success, to be sure?” 

“Of course I do, Annabeth,” Jason answered, seemingly surprised by her reaction. “When the Season has ended and you have — hopefully — found yourself happily settled with a good match, then perhaps I will be able to entertain the idea of marriage. Until then, I have other things that beg for my attention.”

“I cannot believe what I am hearing,” Annabeth remarked, a smile spreading over her ruby-painted lips. “What man of your station and age is not in want of a wife?”

“It is not that I do not wish to marry, but I would feel that I have failed you if I put my selfish desires before your wellbeing,” he corrected her. “And you would do well to be mindful of the fact that a man interested in you may not necessarily be interested in marriage. Be careful that you do not forget that.” 

Jason’s words confused her. She understood well enough what he was implying, but there seemed to be something to them, something else resting just below the surface. “I am afraid that I do not understand,” she lied, knowing that merely asking him to clarify his meaning would not earn her the answer she sought— but perhaps she could trick him into divulging more information.

“Many men that attend these events — some even going so far as to call on ladies and enter courtships — are not interested in a binding betrothal at present. Some are merely looking to improve their own reputations by association, so that they might have better prospects in the future,” Jason explained, and Annabeth was grateful for the expansion on the statement, but she felt that there was still something more to his warning. “And some of them, I’m afraid, do not wish for marriage at all. I believe you know a few of those yourself.”

At that, Annabeth’s brow raised. “Is that so?”

“To be sure. Your friend, the Duke of Argos, for one,” Jason answered, making an obvious effort at keeping his tone and expression appropriately neutral. “It would be a stupefying revelation. I say verily that it would be less surprising to find that that old horse of his had sprouted wings than to learn that Jackson had decided to give up his bachelorhood.”

“I did not know,” Annabeth replied, her mind turning over the new information about the Duke. 

“It is not your responsibility to know such things,” Jason reminded her. “It is mine— and that is why what has happened is my fault. If I had known about Castellan—”

“Please, Jason, speak no more of that man,” Annabeth pleaded. “I do not wish to see my supper a second time.”

“Fine, fine,” he laughed. “But I am serious, cousin. I will do better in the future; I hope you believe that. It is why I warn you about the Duke.”

“I understand,” she nodded, ignoring the last bit of his statement. Jason’s bias had already hurt her enough. She believed that he believed his opinion to be correct, but she could not put her faith behind it fully— not without seeing for herself. In recent days, Annabeth had become quite certain about one thing: she wanted to know more about Perseus.

In the times since they had last spoken, she had thought of little else. Each night before she doused her lamps, she reread the hastily scrawled note that he had delivered secretly to Berkeley Place on the night of the di Angelos’ ball, studying each syllable and wondering if she had been alone in that feeling of unfamiliar nervousness that had overcome her senses that evening. She longed for the freedom and nerve to seek him out on her own, just as Piper had done, and hear the words from his own lips. He had nothing to apologize for, and she wanted nothing as much as she wanted him to know that. 

The carriage finally reached the front of the line, coming to a stop at the end of a long walkway that led up to the entry. Jason exited first, turning back to assist Annabeth as she climbed out carefully. They walked arm-in-arm up the walk toward the towering glass and steel structure nestled into the sprawling gardens. 

“What a remarkable building,” Annabeth said, a bit in awe of the Conservatory. “It is much more beautiful than I expected.”

“Wait until you see how the Gardiners have prepared the interior,” Jason said with a knowing smile. “You will hardly believe you are in an overgrown greenhouse.” At that, they shared a joyous laugh, and it felt reassuring to know that even after the chaos of the recent weeks, they were walking into the lion’s den together. 

Jason had not exaggerated. The main hall of the Conservatory was decorated so beautifully that it seemed a shame not to simply admire it all night. Blossoming greenery had been strung from every column and support, arching vines and boughs of laurels filling every opening. The light was soft and warm, twinkling above like stars in the wide, open atrium. Perhaps the centerpiece of the space was the brilliantly blue marble that had been inlaid in the stonework floor, giving the illusion of a river that snaked through the ballroom. Its inclusions glistened in the candlelight, reflecting light just as one would expect water to do. It was a remarkable illusion. 

Once she had collected a dance card and assured Jason that she would not incite anymore brawls, Annabeth wandered into the crowd. Even as she promised herself that she was not looking for anyone in particular, she knew that it was in vain. Her eyes scanned each face, looking away with disappointment when she did not find what she was looking for. 

And then, just when she had given up, she spotted him.

He stood alone near the musicians, his eyes already fixed to her when she noticed him at last. There was only a moment of hesitation in her steps, a brief flash of warmth in her cheeks at the prolonged eye-contact, but she made her way toward him anyway. 

“Miss Chase,” he smiled warmly, green eyes sparkling in the shimmering light, “I am so relieved to see you. You look—” Perseus paused, her eyes scanning her face, searching for the right word before he settled on something that he deemed appropriate, “quite lovely.”

“You appear well yourself, Your Grace,” she noted, extending a hand to him. He promptly took the offering gently, bringing her glove to his lips. His compliment still warmed her face as she withdrew her hand. “I had hoped that I might speak candidly with you, if that is not so audacious of me.”

“It may be audacious,” Jackson smiled, “but I believe that I would allow it. Should we take a turn about the room?” He held out an arm for her and she hesitated only briefly before she accepted, looping her own through his, her hand resting on the thick fabric of his coat as they walked. “What did you wish to ask of me, Miss Chase?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head, feeling a warmth that started at the tops of her ears beginning to burn its way onto her cheeks. “I only wanted to inform you that I received the correspondence you left with my maid, and I hoped that you would let me dissuade you from apologizing any further.”

He was silent at that, and she looked over to see his face was contorted into a puzzled expression. “You do not accept my regrets.”

“Only because your remorse is wholly unnecessary,” Annabeth corrected. “I would not have had you act any differently. If I may be so bold, I would not have been saddened to see him injured further.”

Another beat of silence passed between them, long enough that Annabeth feared she had been too loose-lipped with her comments. She risked another glance to the side, surprised to see that Jackson’s expression had melted into one of fond amusement. “You are a most intriguing young woman,” the Duke said at last. “I am sorry that I have not known as much before now.”

“If you continue to apologize to me, Your Grace, I will simply have to bid you a farewell,” she teased. “I will be forced to think that you do not enjoy my company, if you are always so sorry when in my presence.”

“I can assure you, Miss Chase,” Jackson said, tilting his head to look at her at last, “that could not be further from the truth.”

She found herself, regrettably, unable to maintain his gaze. Her eyes shifted to the floor as she fought to keep the smile that she could feel growing from taking over her face entirely. That foreign feeling returned, a warm and exciting fluttering that stretched through her entire chest. For a moment, she wondered if this was what Piper spoke of when she’d inquired about her interest in Connor Stoll. Annabeth knew that the fondness she felt for Jackson was unlike any she had ever before known, but… could it truly be the first blooms of love? 

Surely not, she thought to herself, for she scarcely even knew the man. More than likely, she had simply been so impressed by his show of protection that she felt otherwise indebted to him. And even if she thought it unfair and inaccurate, she would be foolish not to consider his reputation. It was true that she did not believe the rumors she’d heard of the man — that his temper was too sharp to be trusted, or that he was some other sort of heinous devil when the spotlight was off — but the public opinion was not a good one. If she were associated with him, there was a very real chance that he would hurt her prospects. 

Which, of course, forced her to remember that there was also Jason’s warning to consider. If there were even an ounce of truth to his thought, if Jackson truly did not wish to be married, then she would only be wasting her time by entertaining him further. 

“How is your card this evening?” the Duke asked after several moments of silence had elapsed. If he noticed her concern, he did not seem to let it bother him. “Have you saved a line for me?”

“I have,” she nodded, bringing her smile back in an effort to disguise the tangent that her train of thought had been exploring in the moments before. “I felt it would be rude to deny you such a small favor after all you have done for me.”

“I am honored, to be sure,” he laughed as they slowed to a stop and Annabeth held out her wrist. Jackson took the card carefully, penciling his name onto the bottom line. “I will leave you to your mingling now, Miss Chase. Please, give my regards to Lord Grace.”

“You could speak to him yourself, you know,” Annabeth proposed, letting her wrist fall back to her side as they stepped apart from each other. “Jason is not nearly as ornery as he acts.”

Jackson smiled. “I will have to take your word, I am afraid. I do not wish to disturb yet another gala.”

“You men are too stubborn,” she sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation, “and yet have the nerve to say that women are the more fickle of the sexes.”

The Duke laughed, a pleasant sound that instantly made her think of warm summer nights and walks by the river. “You have a boldness and a candor to you that I admire,” he said, voice fond and sweet. “I hope that I can someday view the world as plainly as you do.” And then, he brought her hand to his lips again, letting them linger a moment longer than was probably proper. “Enjoy the remainder of the affair, Miss Chase. I will find you before our number.”

With a shallow bow, he turned and disappeared into the throng of attendees. 

-

The Ceres Conservatory // Lord Grace

Despite his warnings, Annabeth had seemingly made a direct line to the Duke of Argos. Jason watched from a safe distance, unwilling to insert himself in the conversation even though the notion did make him nervous. She had gone straight to him, as if their exchange in the carriage just minutes before had never happened. 

There was a part of him that understood the draw to a thing you could not have, of course, since Jason too nursed that gnawing longing for that which would not be fit. He had not given himself much time to dwell on the loss of Phillipa as his confidante, or on the distance that seemed to swell between them, growing wider with each passing day. He could not bear the thought of it, preferring to pretend that their closeness had been merely a figment of his imagination in the first place rather than to accept that his pride had wounded them both. 

He kept his vigil from the side of the room as he conversed with Lieutenant Fai Zhang quietly, allowing himself an occasional glance in Annabeth’s direction as they spoke. Lieutenant Zhang spoke of his recent travels with such fondness that it made Jason almost wish to return to the days of his own tour. They shared tales of their respective journeys, bonding over a shared experience of their separate time spent in the Roman countryside. The conversation had quickly become so engrossing that Annabeth’s appearance at his side nearly startled him. 

“Anna,” Jason greeted her, offering an arm as he gestured to Lieutenant Zhang, “you remember Lieutenant Zhang, to be sure.”

“Of course I do,” Annabeth smiled sweetly. “We danced together at the di Angelos’ ball.”

“I should say that Miss Chase danced,” Lieutenant Zhang said shyly, a rose blush filling his soft features. “I floundered at best.”

“Do not speak of such,” she laughed, a charming, twinkling sort of sound. “You are a fine dancer, Lieutenant Zhang. I would not have traded our time for anything.”

Annabeth and Lieutenant Zhang continued in their polite conversation, and Jason observed the exchange with interest. They had much in common, he thought to himself, though he had never really considered it before. Fai was an old friend, a well respected member of the ton and a kind, thoughtful man. He was well-read and sharp, bright enough to keep up with Annabeth’s wit, even if their wheelhouses were different— while they both harbored a love of history, Fai was learned in the facts of war and diplomacy, while Annabeth’s interest was far more isolated to the societies and architecture of a given time. She inquired about his travels, asking about the sights that he had seen and what he had thought. And Fai responded in kind, offering to tell her all about his tour should she ever like to hear it— to Jason’s surprise, that idea did not seem at all unappealing for her. 

Finally, when Jason had nearly given up on hoping, Fai asked Annabeth for a dance. When they made their way to the floor a short while later, Jason watched fondly. It would be a good match, he thought to himself, and he would have to think on the right way to suggest as much to Annabeth without her feeling he was pushing them together. He was pondering this thought when someone came up behind him.

“Jason.”

Jason turned toward the voice, looking away from the dancefloor to find the Duke of Argos at his side. “Jackson.”

“I wanted to apologize for the role I played in the scandal,” he said, surprising Jason with his sincerity. “I did not intend for Anna to come into rumor; I only wanted to make sure that Castellan’s true nature was revealed before it was too late.”

Jason swallowed. He did not enjoy eating crow, especially not when it was prepared by someone he did not much care for. But Jackson had shown uncharacteristic responsibility and honor in presenting himself with such remorse, and even Jason would have found it difficult to stay angered in the witness of his apology. 

“Your remorse is appreciated, Your Grace, but I cannot say it is merited,” Jason conceded, not at all happy to be admitting such a thing. “I… I believe I should be thanking you. Anna was quite shaken and I shudder to think what could have happened if you had not intervened.”

Jackson straightened, a flash of disbelief in his features that Jason recognized at once. He had not been expecting a commendation, and Jason could not truly blame him for that. “I only did what was right,” he said simply. “I would have done the same for any other woman here.”

“I believe you,” Jason nodded, admittedly a bit shocked to realize that he did in fact mean it. “I was not diligent enough in my vetting of Lord Castellan, but I am relieved to know that he is gone from Pallas for good. I hope that you were able to secure your debt before he fled.”

Jackson seemed to be amused by that, exhaling a laugh with a mirthful smirk pulling at the corner of this mouth. “Trust that I could not care less for the money. I am at peace with knowing that he is far from Berkeley Place— that is enough. I can say with certainty that I do not think we should ever need to worry about him again.”

At that, Jason’s brow furrowed slightly. “You speak as if you had a hand in his departure,” he mused. “You sent him away?”

“With quite a sum to line his pockets,” Jackson nodded. “It is easy to handle men who crave nothing but material goods. You’ll find that it is more difficult to rid yourself of someone that is in want of something greater.” There was a sort of challenge in his words that Jason did not appreciate. Jackson’s eyes shifted back out toward the dancefloor— to Annabeth, who was captivating the attention of all of those in audience, as she always did when she danced. 

“How much longer do you expect to be in Pallas, Your Grace?” Jason asked. “I would have thought your business would be done by now, especially now that you have written off the loss of Castellan’s debt.”

“I am enjoying the Season, Lord Grace,” Jackson smirked, glancing over at him. “Why on earth would I leave now when things are just beginning to become interesting?”

“Perhaps because you have no honest intentions,” he replied, letting the implication speak for itself. 

The Duke smiled, exhaling a laugh. “That is one school of thought, I suppose.” He looked back out toward the floor as the song came to a close. “Well, I should take my leave now— I would like to be well rested before my dance with your cousin.”

“Naturally,” Jason nodded, his tone flat. He had not realized that Jackson had added his name to Annabeth’s card, though he probably should have expected as much. “Enjoy your evening, Jackson.”

Jackson gave him a knowing smirk before he turned away. “And you as well, my friend.”

By the time Annabeth returned to his side, he had managed to dispel most of his annoyance. “You seem to be enjoying yourself tonight. I am glad to see it.”

“I am,” she agreed. “Though I think I would be much more at ease if I knew that you were equally as entertained.”

“I tell you once more, Annabeth—”

“Oh, come out with it, Jason, I beg,” Annabeth pleaded, her grey eyes wide and earnest. “Will you not tell me what has come between you and Phillipa so that we might move past it? Things have not been the same since before the incident at Westover Hall and I cannot stand the tension any longer.”

“It is not for you to worry over,” he said plainly, frowning despite his efforts to refrain. Jason sighed, shaking his head. “It is a hard reality for us to accept, but I know that I am right. We will all be better off this way— Phillipa especially.”

Annabeth studied him, her lips pursed in disapproval. “It is more than possible to be right and foolish, Jason,” she said, her wisdom carrying truth straight through to his heart. It burned in his chest, screaming to be acknowledged. “You should remember that.”

Jason eyed her for a moment. “You are too bright for your own good.”

Annabeth smiled, her worries all seeming to fade for one blissful moment. “You should remember that, too.”

-

The Ceres Conservatory // Perseus

Percy could not take his eyes off of her. She was as beautiful tonight as she had ever been— perhaps even more breathtaking than before, if it were at all possible. Maybe it was that he had never seen her being so much herself, or that he had not had the privilege of seeing her captivating countenance or mystifying movement for a full fortnight, but whatever the reason, she held his focus even more than usual.

He watched her dance (he loved to watch her dance) and move about the room, charming hearts each time she paused. The men she allowed to escort her to the dancefloor were blessed by her partnership, shining all the brighter because of her intrinsic glow. There was a beauty in the way she could radiate such warmth— in the most dazzling, meticulously dedicated room in England, it was Anna Elizabeth Chase that stood out. 

The mezzanine that wrapped around the main atrium was mostly abandoned and provided a nice, private respite for Percy to linger. He preferred it this way: keeping to the outskirts of the festivities and avoiding the central throng, waiting only for his number to be pulled. From this vantage point, he could see the entire party below. Couples laughed and talked and enjoyed their drinks, taking in their scenery and company.

And Annabeth danced. She floated across the floor, across the marble river that divided the room and every step looked more entrancing than the one before. He kept track of her partners in the back of his mind, silently sizing up his competition, though he would not be quick to admit his motive, even to himself. He did not falter in his carefully distant observation until he saw her take the floor with Lieutenant Fai Zhang for the second time. 

The pair made a handsome couple, he admitted, but something about it was simply not right. She looked happy enough, but it was nothing like the beauty that he saw in her face when they exchanged their short remarks and witty banter. He knew that her mind needed a rival, a match that would let her be as sharp as she wanted without fear of being seen as improper. Annabeth was not nearly as much like her cousin as Percy had assumed upon their first meeting; no, she was something entirely new. 

“You are staring, brother,” Charles said, settling onto the banister beside him, elbows resting on the railing as they both looked out onto the party. “I cannot say that I blame you— she is quite beautiful.”

“I was merely keeping an eye on the happenings, Charles,” Percy refuted. “These things so rarely end quietly, you know.”

“Oh, I am well aware,” he laughed. Charles seemed to be watching Annabeth as well, and even Percy could not bring himself to lie a second time. The men were silent for a while, but the question waited patiently to be asked. “Silena tells me that Lieutenant Zhang is rather taken with her.”

“Is that so?” Percy asked, willing his voice not to betray him. The sinking feeling in his chest was unfamiliar and uncomfortable and he prayed that it did not linger. “He is an accomplished man; I suppose that it would be a reasonable match.”

“Percy,” Charles said flatly. “Do not be this way. You know that we know.”

“I am sure I do not know what you mean.”

“Shall I go and find my wife? She will jog your memory, I am sure,” he laughed. “We know you care for her— how could we not? But it would not be right for me to not say something.” He turned, leaning back against the railing now so that he could see Percy’s face. “I do not wish to overstep, but I feel I must ask what you intend to do about your affections.”

“Affections?” he scoffed. “Charles, we have shared a few dances; that is hardly—”

“I do not say any of this to hurt you, brother — you should know that well — but it must be said,” Charles interrupted before Percy could continue feigning ignorance. “The girl is maturing; her time in the peerage is coming to an end. If you do not have marriage in mind, the kind thing to do would be to remove yourself from the equation.”

“And if I do?”

Charles was silent for a moment. “Do you?”

The question was not an easy one. Marriage, in his mind, had always felt like a chore. It was altogether unnecessary for him to be able to lead a life that he enjoyed, and he could see no reason to halt his freedom by settling down. First it would be a wife, and then children, surely. And what did he know about being a father? What examples of marriage had he had to look to? The suggestion that he should have to marry had always seemed droll at best.

Percy watched her move across the blue marble river below, a smile so bright it was blinding even at this distance. For once, the prospect did not seem so damning.

“I do not know,” he answered honestly. 

Charles sighed, his head dropping. “I feared as much.”

“What is your advice, Charles?” Percy asked, turning his head toward his friend for the first time. “What would Silena say?”

“I believe those are two separate things, Percy. My Silena would say that you are a fool,” Charles answered without hesitation. “She would tell you to stop sitting on your hands and do what you have been aching to do since you first set eyes on Miss Chase.”

Percy winced at the bluntness, but he could not deny that it was likely true. “And you?”

“I would not disagree with her,” he answered. “But I also have the benefit of having known you for most of your life— and I would be remiss if I did not speak candidly with you now. If this is what you want, then go after it. But if you are truly so unsure, the proper thing to do for Miss Chase is to take your leave. Allow Lieutenant Zhang to court her so that she might be able to secure a worthy proposal before the Season’s end.”

Percy bit the inside of his cheek. It was a frightening thought, and that alone was surprising. Never before had he felt like he had something worth losing, but now he thought that he could be close. As she spun on the floor below, he thought of her eyes and her melodic voice, the way she spoke her mind without care for who might hear. Her intellect and wit and a smile that could be felt from across the ton.  

“I hear you, brother.”

“Good,” Charles said, straightening. He clapped a hand onto Percy’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze before he released. “I cannot make the decision for you. You will do what is right— I know that much.” Charles’s voice faded as he stepped away, and by the time the dance had come to an end and Percy pushed away from the mezzanine railing, he was gone.

-

“Miss Chase,” he said, bowing in the direction of the woman just before him, “the last number will begin shortly. Might I escort you to the floor?”

“You may,” she smiled, accepting the arm that he held out for her to take. “I am surprised at how well you have hidden yourself this evening, Your Grace. I have scarcely caught so much as a glimpse of you all night.”

“Am I to take that to suggest you have been looking for me?” he asked, trying to guard the hopefulness in his voice. 

“On the contrary,” Annabeth answered simply. “I was merely keeping an eye on you lest you decide that there are other men whose necks you would like to wring. I thought perhaps I saw you speaking to Jason earlier.”

“You have a keen eye,” he nodded. “Does that surprise you?”

“I must admit that it does,” she agreed. “I do not claim to understand that which can drive men apart, but I know that there has been some sort of ravine carved between the two of you. The notion that you might possess the ability to have a conversation without raising your voices is impressive.”

“You think so little of me?”

“I have little else to go off of, Your Grace,” she smiled as they got into position on the floor. “Nearly every time I have the privilege of seeing the two of you together, you have been a breath away from declaring fisticuffs.”

He had to laugh at that. “Well, trust that it was a calm exchange,” Percy assured her. “I have nothing but respect for your cousin, despite what he thinks.”

“Is that so?” Annabeth asked, raising a brow. It was clear that she’d found his answer genuinely surprising. “Will you tell me the source of this bitterness, then?”

“I am afraid that this is neither the time, nor the place,” he answered, giving her a sympathetic smile. His throat felt a bit tighter suddenly, and he knew what had to be done. “It will not matter for much longer anyway, I fear.”

The music came to life, filling the room at an even louder volume than it had earlier in the night as the players poured their all into the final song. Annabeth’s brow was furrowed, a question poised on the end of her tongue, but she did not dare ask it yet. He knew that the moment they were in close proximity again, she would inquire and he knew that he would tell her. 

And so, with the knowledge that the end was drawing near, Percy focused his attention on committing her to memory. He watched her reverently, carefully observing the stormy eyes that followed his every move and the smooth, deliberate steps that she made across the floor. This was a moment he would have frozen if he had the power to do so. He would bottle it, fill his mind with it whenever he could. 

They danced. They danced and they stared, and he knew before the song ever came to an end that she had assumed his meaning. Her eyes grew darker, her face hardening into something he did not recognize as the song drew nearer to its end. And when the last strains faded into nothing, she stood only centimeters in front of him, her lips already pulling into a frown.

“You are leaving Pallas, aren’t you?” she asked before he could even consider how to begin. After a moment, he nodded. “Why?”

“It is past time for me to return home, Annabeth,” he said gently. “My business in Pallas is handled. I cannot pretend to be needed here any longer. I will not continue to stand in your way.”

“‘In my way?’ ” Annabeth repeated, and he hated the way the words sounded on her tongue. “How—”

“Please,” Percy interrupted. “I do not want this to be more difficult. I am leaving Pallas before week’s end. I do not wish to be a distraction to you.”

“So it is true, then,” she said, her voice sounding tight in her throat. “You are just as hard of heart as they say.” 

Percy swallowed. The accusation was not at all unfair or unwarranted, but it cut him to his core to hear it from her lips. “I suppose so.”

They stayed like that for a long time, letting the party noise fade as their eyes bore into each other, each pleading with the other to be the first to blink. “I guess that I should thank you, then— for being so chivalrous.”

“Do not be this way,” he said, his voice soft. “Let us leave here in good standing, I beg.”

“Why?” she said, recoiling at the suggestion. “So that you can feel good about yourself?”

He could see the anger in her eyes, and part of him understood that he had earned it. He wished that he could find the words that could make her see that he could never be what she needed him to be. It was so apparent that a part of her had begun to hope for it, and he was dashing those hopes with each word. She was so desperate to understand and if he were a better man, perhaps he would have been able to explain. 

No— if he were a better man, he would have been able to stay.  

Percy straightened. He looked toward the flash of movement in his peripheral: Jason. At the recognition that his time with her was nearly over, he glanced back at her for the last time. “I am sorry that I misled you, Miss Chase,” he said, trying and failing to keep his voice remotely even. “You may not be able to forgive me, but you will soon forget, I am sure.”

Her jaw was tight with words she could not say. When she found her voice again, he wished that she hadn’t. “You are a coward, Perseus Jackson.”

The footsteps drew closer as Percy looked on, helpless to defend himself against her words when she was so accurate in her summation. At last, Jason came to a stop at her side and she took his arm wordlessly, shifting her gaze to the floor. “Is everything alright here?” Jason asked, eyeing Percy suspiciously. 

“Perfectly fine, Jason,” Annabeth answered, sounding not-very-fine. “might we retire now? I am exhausted.”

Jason gave Percy one last strange look before he shifted his eyes to his cousin. “Yes, of course. Jackson, I’ll be seeing you—”

“I am leaving Pallas,” he shook his head. “Sunday.” 

“Ah,” Jason nodded. He glanced at Annabeth and then back to Percy, seeming to piece together her disheartened state. “Well, I hope that you have a safe journey, then.”

“Jason, please,” Annabeth answered, not lifting her eyes from the floor. “Let us go.”

Percy gave him a dismissive nod as he took a step back. “Until next time, then.” 

Jason eyed him with another peculiar look before he steered Annabeth toward the doors at the back of the conservatory. He watched the loose, golden curls bounce with each step that carried her away from him, wishing he were half as brave as he pretended to be. 

They disappeared from view, and the fire in his heart flickered out. 

“He didn’t know what it was like, wanting something you could never have;
how impossible it was to un-want it once you’d let the feeling in.”
― Katharine McGee

Berkeley Place // Miss Chase

Annabeth had always quite liked the ceiling of her bedroom. When she was still very young, her mother had torn through each room of Berkeley Place, one at a time, and tweaked and torn and painted until each and every inch of the home met her ever-evolving tastes. At the time, Annabeth hadn’t thought much of it. It wasn’t unlike her mother to grow tired and bored of her surroundings, and the home saw more than one wave of remodeling before Annabeth had even turned twelve. 

But the ceiling was one thing that she had fought tooth and nail to prevent her mother from changing. She’d always loved the painted mural, the delicate brush strokes that decorated the field of cool grey-blue with clouds and birds, detailed branches added around the border to give the illusion that one was resting beneath the shade of olive trees. Her mother thought it dated and out of fashion, maybe even gauche— but Annabeth loved it. 

Many afternoons were spent lying on her bed, staring up at the ‘sky’ and longing for something, anything different. Contrary to the common belief held around Berkeley Place, Annabeth didn’t make a habit of disobeying her father’s or mother’s rules— even the ones that she found to be completely asinine. It was far more trouble than it was ever worth and she simply had no desire to argue with them any more than she already did. She’d found it easier to simply go along with the flow of things, inciting her little rebellions in the shadows when she could do so undetected. 

From early adolescence, Annabeth understood what was expected of her and what her life would look like. It was not until the death of her youngest brother that she realized how severe life could truly be. It was a lesson that would be taught to her again and again and again until she hated the earth that her feet walked on with such a passion that she could only dream of escape. 

She longed for freedom, for the opportunity to make her own decisions and to carve out a corner of this world that could be her own. She wanted to be more than a wife; more than a decorative fixture in a house that belonged to a man, raising children that would perhaps share her golden hair or storm-grey eyes, but would be no more hers than anything else had ever been. 

Their world was not built for hearts like hers.

So she tried, many times, to escape the ritual. She never made it very far. And each time — after she’d been dragged by the elbow and swatted up the stairs — she found herself here again, staring up at a painted sky and longing for something different. 

The act itself was nothing new, and that was why Annabeth could not understand why this time felt so different. As she laid beside Piper on the bed, both of them silent as they observed the image above them, she could not ignore the widening pit in her stomach, an ache that screamed to be acknowledged. 

Piper, it seemed, was not much better off. “It is cruel,” she said at last, causing Annabeth to turn her head toward her friend. “Do you agree?”

“I should like to ask what cruelty you speak of before I decide.”

At that, Piper’s lips pursed slightly. She seemed to be thinking very carefully about her words, considering what sort of reaction she could expect and hoping that she managed to arrange them in the correct way. “That reputation can mean so much to them,” she said softly, her eyes still trained to the fresco boughs above them. “And that we can mean so little.”

It was the first time any of them had so much as hinted at the truth that had been so obvious to Annabeth from the moment that Piper arrived in Pallas. Confirmation that there was something blooming between her friend and her cousin was not at all surprising— but it was surprising that Piper had offered the truth without so much as a word in the way of provocation.

“Do you want for me to give my opinion,” Annabeth mused, shifting her eyes back up toward the ceiling, “or do you merely wish for me to commiserate?”

“I have never before shied from your criticisms, Anna Elizabeth,” Piper sighed, a slight laugh beneath her carefully guarded words, “I do not see why I should start now.”

Annabeth’s eyes traced the outline of the clouds painted above her, the edges where the light seemed to break through just a bit more and created an illusion of a glowing border. “Jason is a hard man to understand if you do not share our upbringing. He is cold at times, forcing himself to be distant when all that he really wants is to run headlong toward his desires,” Annabeth explained. “He is better than me in that way— Jason knows what he is supposed to do and he does it, even though he wants different. I sometimes wish that I could be so resolved to my fate.”

“But why?” Piper asked, turning onto her side. Even without looking, Annabeth could feel her stare, her urgent need for understanding. “He does not have to be so severe.”

“I wish that I knew,” Annabeth answered simply. “Jason has the privilege of being a man. If I had such a power, I surely would not squander my happiness when I possessed the ability to take what I wanted.”

Piper was quiet for a while, long enough that Annabeth turned onto her side as well. They lay face to face, neither one speaking but having an entire conversation in the space between their words. Finally, Piper reached forward, resting a hand on Annabeth’s arm. “May I be so bold as to ask you what it is you want, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said that you would go after what you wanted if you were a man,” Piper mused. “I wonder if you are speaking of something in particular.” There was a brief pause before she added, “Or perhaps someone in particular.”

She would have to lie if she wished to deny the accusation, and she could assume that even Piper recognized as much. There was little else on Annabeth’s mind that morning. Despite the bright day outside, it was gloomy within; all because of one man. Annabeth had hardly been able to think of anything else since they returned from the Conservatory the previous evening. He was the last thought on her mind when she finally fell into restless sleep, the first thing that she recalled upon waking, and the subject of her haunted dreams in the meantime. 

It was confounding. She could not understand why he had become so deeply ingrained in her mind and memory, or why she cared so much that he would be going away. The idea of explaining this to Piper was terrifying— not because she felt that her friend could not understand, but rather because she knew that she would. Before, it had been merely a theory, but in recent days, the truth had made itself known: this longing feeling in her gut, this ache that felt like hunger for something she could not satisfy, this was that which Piper had warned her of. 

It was not love, perhaps. Annabeth was not so foolish as to think that she could have fallen in love with the Duke— not in such a short time, certainly not in such hostile circumstances. But the beginning strains were there, just as she’d suspected, and the roots were growing deeper and deeper beneath the surface. She hadn’t noticed at first, but the vines of his influence had already begun to claim her— if she did not stop them from taking root soon, she would be covered entirely.

“I do not understand why he has gone,” she said quietly after a moment. “I thought… I was beginning to believe that perhaps this curse of womanhood was not so horrible, not if I were able to find a companion that I enjoyed and who enjoyed me.”

“You fear that you have made false assumptions?”

Annabeth shook her head against the pillow. “I know that I have not misread anything,” she answered, her words certain. “That is the worst fact of them all. I do not know how he can leave when he sees the same things that I see.”

Piper’s eyes were soft, understanding. “You are certain?”

“I suppose I cannot be certain; he has not told me in so many words,” she said after a moment of consideration. “But I believe it to be true. I can think of no other reason that he would say the things that he has said. He spoke of leaving Pallas so that he would not ‘be in my way’, and what else could that mean, Phillipa? Surely it—”

“Perhaps it is fact that he was drawn to you, but if the Duke truly does not wish to marry, Annabeth,” Piper said carefully, interrupting Annabeth’s train of thought with her gentle reminder, “would it not make sense that he would take his leave so as not to distract you from serious suitors? Perhaps he was only trying to be merciful.”

Annabeth sighed, sitting up. “If it is so, he is cruel for awakening a feeling he did not intend to see through. There is no way to soften that truth.”

Piper looked back up to the ceiling again. “I know what you mean.”

“These men have scarcely one sound thought between the lot, and we are considered to be the frail of mind,” Annabeth huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I am still meant to find one that is suitable for marriage— a hopeless chore.”

“Perhaps not,” Piper said thoughtfully, following Annabeth’s motion and sitting up as well. “Tell me, did you truly not find any suitors agreeable?”

“You know that I would have told you if I had.”

“And what of Lieutenant Zhang?”

Annabeth sighed. In truth, she had considered it. He was a good man, kind and honorable. He came from a strong family with a rich ancestry and a firmly established reputation in the ton. Lieutenant Zhang was well respected and that honor came from the simple fact that he had always been a pillar of the community and a friend to all. She imagined that she would be hard-pressed to find anyone that would dare speak a word against him, and that was more than she could say for… well, most men. 

He was smart, too. Intelligent and learned in many of the same areas that interested her. On those occasions they had been given an opportunity to converse, she never found their exchanges to be burdensome or exasperating, but often surprised herself to find that she rather enjoyed herself in his presence. Lieutenant Zhang was a very even-tempered man, who was, by all accounts, dependable and trustworthy. He would make a perfect husband— even Annabeth could not deny that. 

“I would not refuse a courtship, I think,” she said at last, watching as Piper’s eyes widened in surprise. “I do not mean to say that I would leap with joy at the notion, but I suppose that there are far worse options. At least I would know that Jason would be agreeable to such a union.”

“How romantic,” Piper deadpanned, not sparing her friend an ounce of her sarcasm. 

“It is not about romance,” Annabeth reminded her, “it is about security.”

“Can it not be both? Should it not be both?”

“Perhaps. But that does not change the fact that it is not.”

Piper frowned. “I do not wish to see you so disheartened.”

“Nor I you,” Annabeth smiled softly, taking Piper’s hand. “Now that I have been candid with you, will you finally tell me what transpired to drive such separation between you and Jason?”

“It is much like you say, I think,” she began. “He is foolish.”

“As we both have known for some time now,” Annabeth laughed. “Come now, tell the truth. What has happened?”

Piper recalled the conversation that afternoon in the drawing room, her eyes deep with sadness throughout the entirety of her retelling. She explained how she had mentioned Connor Stoll to Jason as a possible suitor, an alternative to Lord Castellan, and how Jason had turned so cold so quickly. Annabeth wanted to believe that perhaps Piper had simply misinterpreted the situation, but she knew better. She knew Jason well enough to know that what Piper said was exactly how it had been. Jason — stubborn, responsible, fallibly human Jason — had shot himself in the foot, it seemed.

“I fear there is one last thing that you should know,” Piper said cautiously. “I hesitate to tell you at all now that the matter has passed, but I cannot let you believe the worst of Jason without at least understanding what led him to such extremes.”

“You have me worried, Piper,” Annabeth murmured. “What has he done?”

“Our conversation regarding Connor Stoll took place on the morning that you were in town with Lady Beckendorf,” she said slowly. “I… I fear that it was his frustrations with our unfortunate circumstances that pushed him into making such a rash decision about Lord Castellan’s proposal. I believe that if we had not had our row, he may have realized the truth about Castellan and prevented it from going further.”

“Surely you are not blaming yourself for what Jason has done,” Annabeth said hesitantly. “If he had it in his mind to speak so plainly with you, he should have known—”

“It was I that started it; I should have known better than to even suggest it,” Piper frowned. “If I had but held my tongue—”

“Piper, I will not allow you to be ashamed of yourself for trying to help me,” she shook her head. “Jason might have been blinded by his anger and perhaps it is true that he would have done things differently if he had not been so wounded, but you are not to blame for that. You did nothing wrong.”

Piper looked down, shaking her head slowly. “I lied to you, too.”

Annabeth frowned. “What?”

“The Duke sent flowers to you the morning after the Beckendorf ball,” Piper replied. “Jason was furious about it— he had Mellie take them away and he asked me not to tell you.”

“It matters not, now,” she said, trying to push the thought from her mind. “The Duke is gone, Castellan has left Pallas, and you, Jason, and I are all in the exact same place that we were when the Season began.”

“I am nearly longing for home, if you can believe it,” Piper sighed, falling back against the mattress again. “I never thought I would say the words but, to be sure, the countryside sounds far more appealing at present.”

Annabeth managed to laugh despite the heavy thoughts that were weighing on her. “I should have taken you up on your offer to run away.”

“It is not too late,” Piper reminded her, a real smile coming to her lips at last. “We have plenty of time to create a scandal of our own.”

“Are you offering me your hand, Miss McLean?” Annabeth teased, plopping down beside her friend. “And here I thought that it was my cousin whose heart you were after.”

“What can I say?” she grinned, sighing dreamily. “I have always preferred blondes.” With that, laughter filled the bedroom for the first time in what felt like years, and the gloomy mood melted away into a sunny afternoon. 

-

Berkeley Place // Miss Chase

It was late-May and summer had finally arrived in Pallas. The mornings were brighter, the afternoons longer, and the nights warmer, and everywhere she looked, Annabeth was surrounded by the reminder that time was running out. 

Piper sat beside her on the chaise, their voices low and soft as they chatted about the day’s events: a number of callers were sure to be received any moment now, followed by a grand reception thrown in honor of Miss Tanaka’s engagement to some unlucky man or other. While neither of the girls cared for Miss Tanaka, Annabeth was very much looking forward to the party and the company. 

Jason entered, his eyes lingering on Piper for a moment too long before he turned his attention to Annabeth. “You look lovely, Annabeth.”

“Thank you, cousin,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What have I done to earn such flattery?”

“Not a thing,” he shook his head, amused. “Simply an observation. Miss McLean, you are also looking quite well.” Piper smiled politely in acknowledgement of the compliment, but her eyes were fixed to the floor. Jason cleared his throat and Annabeth decided to ignore the redness spreading over his ears. “I believe you will have a pleasant morning, Annabeth. Are you prepared to receive your guests?”

She exhaled, steeling herself. “Well, I do not suppose that I will be any more ready five minutes from now.”

“How optimistic,” Jason smirked. “I will inform Mellie that you are ready for your tea.”

“Thank you,” Annabeth called after him as he turned and exited the drawing room. She looked back at Piper. “You can stay if you’d like. You might enjoy yourself.”

“Oh, I doubt it,” she chuckled as she rose to her feet. She took Annabeth’s chin gently in her hand. “I will leave the charm to you, pet.” With a soft pat on the cheek, she gave her one last smile before she also disappeared out into the hallway. 

The sun-drenched drawing room was perfumed heavily by an assortment of flowers from recent callers and Annabeth could think only of what Piper had told her the day before: how the Duke had sent an arrangement for her, and how she could not stop imagining what they might have looked like if she’d had the chance to see them. 

By the time Mellie returned, she’d become so lost in her thoughts that the sound of the tray of tea and scones being set onto the low table between the sofas startled her. “I’m sorry, miss,” Mellie apologized. “I did not mean to be so noisy.”

“You are quite alright, Mellie,” Annabeth assured her, “I was merely distracted.”

“Would you like me to have Lord Grace bring in your visitor?” she asked, folding her hands politely behind her back. “I believe that they are waiting in the corridor.”

“Yes,” Annabeth nodded, leaning forward to pour herself a cup of tea. She noticed the flash of concern on Mellie’s face, as if she worried that Annabeth had expected her to pour the cup for her, but it passed quickly as she added a sugar cube and gave her spoon a quick swirl. “Whenever Jason is ready, you can escort them in.”

As Mellie nodded and turned back toward the door, Annabeth shifted further back in her seat, crossing her legs at the ankle and taking a sip of her tea. A moment later, Jason returned, accompanied by Lieutenant Zhang. 

“Miss Chase,” he said softly, with the warm smile that she had come to expect from him. He stepped forward, bowing before he settled into the spot beside her on the sofa. “It is so nice to see you today.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Annabeth noticed Jason selecting a book from the shelf that ran along the back wall of the long room and taking a seat in the chair that he’d claimed as his own. He looked appropriately disinterested, an attempt to give them any sort of privacy that he could, she imagined. 

“I am glad to see you as well, my lord,” Annabeth answered, turning her eyes back to Lieutenant Zhang. “I hope that you will humor me if I ask for just one more tale of your tour.”

He laughed, a wide, genuine smile coming across his face as he nodded. Lieutenant Zhang was all too happy to share more memories from his travels. He spent an hour or so telling her about his time in Italy and Greece. Annabeth asked questions that he gladly answered, entertaining her with stories of the places that he had visited and the people he encountered, even regaling her with a few of the local folk stories that he could recall.

They talked for so long Annabeth felt her voice beginning to fade, her spirits light and relaxed in his presence. It was strange to think that the man in front of her was a soldier at the heart of it all— a fighter and a leader, skilled in the art of war. Sitting before him now, she could hardly imagine anything but warmth and comfort emanating from him, but she’d heard tales of men that had fought by his side; she knew that natures could be deceptive.

When the time finally came for him to leave, Annabeth was almost sad to see him go. They rose from the sofa and she offered her hand which he took without hesitation. “I hope that I will see you tonight,” Lieutenant Zhang said, bringing her gloved hand to his lips. 

“To be sure,” she nodded. “I will save a dance for you, my lord.”

“I could ask for no greater honor, Miss Chase,” he smiled as he straightened, standing a full six of seven inches taller than she. “I should go and bid farewell to your cousin, but I will not keep you from your rest.”

Annabeth smiled as she took a step backward. “I will see you tonight, then.”

“Tonight,” he nodded in return as the distance between them grew. She stepped backwards again, their eyes still locked in a fond gaze before she finally turned and wandered into the corridor. 

-

She was seated at her dressing table, pulling the brush through her long, blonde hair when Jason appeared in the doorway. The telltale sound of the front door closing behind their departing guest had met her ears only a few minutes before, and she had been expecting him. Annabeth met his eyes in the mirror, acknowledging him without turning to face him.

“You did not invite any other callers inside,” she accused. His motives were plain, and despite the fact that she had enjoyed her lengthy conversation with Lieutenant Zhang, she did not fail to notice Jason’s hand in the matter. “You asked only Lieutenant Zhang to visit today, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he nodded, swallowing. She was glad for that— at least he had not lied. “Annabeth, I do not say this to discourage you or to come across too urgently, but I feel that you should entertain the idea. It is a good match.”

She sighed, shifting her eyes back to her own reflection. “You do not rest.”

“How can I rest knowing what I do?” Jason asked, holding his hands before him. “I worry for you, Annabeth. I want only for you to be looked after— to be safe and well cared for. I know what you are after, and I know what you are hoping for,” he said softly, letting his eyes convey his genuine concern as he took a few steps into the room, “but I also know that you will not find it in the places you search.”

“And what, pray tell, do you suppose it is that I am in search of, Jason?” Annabeth countered, her words flat and clipped. “What do you think I am hoping for?”

“Well… love, of course. Which is wholly noble and admirable and I—” he floundered slightly, searching for the right thing to say, “I want that for you. But, Annabeth… you will not attain it with the Duke.”

She exhaled in a huff, setting the brush onto the top of the dressing table as she turned around to face Jason. “But you presume that I will find it with Lieutenant Zhang?”

“Annabeth, please—”

“I understand my role, Jason,” Annabeth shook her head. “I have told you that I am resolved to fulfill my responsibility to our family; allow me to fulfill it my own way.”

Jason gave her a pained expression. “I am sorry, Annabeth,” he shook his head. “I hate that you must suffer the consequences of this; if I could change it for you, I would.”

She held his stare for a long time, calming her breaths and willing her heart to stop its racing. Finally, she turned back to the mirror, lifting the brush again. It was silent for several minutes as Jason continued to linger in the doorway, unspoken apologies on his lips as Annabeth fought the urge to meet his eyes again. 

“The Lieutenant is a good man. If he were to ask for my hand,” she said finally, her voice hoarse and slow with the effort that it took to voice the words, “I do not think I would be entirely unagreeable.” Her words earned the reaction that she’d been expecting: Jason straightened, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. “You are right. It is a good match.”

“Annabeth,” Jason shook his head again, “you are certain?”

“I can only say what I feel,” she said carefully. “And I feel that I am tired of this ritual and of the games and the lies— I want to be finished. And there are men far worse than Lieutenant Zhang.”

Jason stepped toward her, placing a hand on her shoulder gently and waited until she had turned to face him. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes for the first time and she felt more confident than ever about her decision. This Season was killing them both— whatever it took to move forward, surely it would be worth it. 

So maybe love would elude her. What did she know of love, anyway? Her only taste had been bitter and short-lived, and its spectral wounds ached even now. She could live a life without love if it meant a life without this pain of longing. She found Lieutenant Zhang well likable and perhaps she could even come to love him in time— and if she did not, at least she would have a pleasant companion. 

“I defer to your decision on the matter,” Jason said earnestly, “but I would be foolish not to tell you that I think that you are making the right choice. Fai will be a good husband and a caring father. You will want for nothing.”

The definite tone to Jason’s words told her all that she needed to know: the betrothal was as good as set. She imagined that the matter had already been discussed, likely that morning, likely in the drawing room beneath them. Her confirmation of her interest had been the only missing piece, and she had surrendered it so easily. 

“Fine,” Annabeth said, rising to her feet and stepping past Jason. “But there is something that I must ask of you as well.”

“Anything,” he nodded. 

She continued toward her wardrobe, only stopping to turn when she’d created a wide berth between them. “You must make things right with Phillipa.”

Jason sighed as he looked up to the ceiling and when he spoke again, his voice was low and exasperated. “You do not know—”

“I do know, Jason,” Annabeth pleaded. “I have known for some time now, and I am positively sick knowing that you have let your pride come between the two of you. If you — with all of your God-given freedom and agency — cannot be happy, how am I ever meant to find even a moment of contentment?”

Their stalemate lingered, neither speaking another word as their stares locked in impasse. Finally, Jason shook his head and turned toward the door. “I will send for Mellie to assist your preparations. We will depart in two hours.”

-

Berkeley Place // Lord Grace

It was eerily quiet that afternoon. Usually, when there was an affair to attend, the upper rooms of the house were alive with noise and a flurry of movement as Annabeth was readied for the festivities. He was certain that the same actions were at work on that day, but Annabeth’s defeated attitude seemed to be infectious. Jason could not find it in himself to be upset with her. He wasn’t sure that he’d have a sound reason to be angered even if he desired to be. Annabeth had done what was asked of her, and she’d done it with a reasonable amount of grace.

So why did the situation feel so bleak?

When he had prepared himself for the reception, Jason exited his quarters. His breath caught in his throat the moment the chamber door opened. She was frozen on the top stair, hand glued to the banister as she stared back with her wide, hopeful eyes. 

“Miss McLean.” His voice seemed to wake her from her stupor, gasping quietly as she regained her composure and continued to hurry swiftly down the stairs. Annabeth’s well-intended request haunted him. It was all he wanted to do, really— to make things right. But he hadn’t the slightest notion of how. 

“Philippa, wait,” Jason called after her, already hurrying toward the landing. He reached the top of the stairs just as she reached the bottom and continued down the corridor, but he was faster and caught up to her easily. Jason reached a hand forward, catching her arm gently. “Please.”

“I have to inform the chauffeur that Miss Chase is almost ready to depart, my lord,” she said, her voice thin. She continued to stare down the hallway, refusing to meet his eye. “Please, Lord Grace,” Philippa continued, pulling her arm free. 

“Piper,” Jason said quietly, insistent though he did not attempt to restrain her further. Slowly, she turned her face to him, swallowing back her emotions. Her eyes were cold, and he longed to repent for the role that he had played in inflicting the hurt that she felt. “Is this truly how you wish for things to be?”

“It is the way that they must be,” she answered without hesitation. “You have said as much yourself. Quite plainly, in fact.”

“You must know that this was not what I meant—”

“Perhaps,” Philippa said, her jaw tight, “but it is what you’ve said. And you are a man of your word, are you not?” Jason stood dumbstruck as she continued to glare at him. He was defenseless. Whatever she had to say, he would deserve it and more. “I must alert the chauffeur,” she repeated, the light in her eyes seeming to dim as she turned away, skirt rusting as she began to retreat up the corridor. 

“Jason?” Annabeth called, drawing his attention as she descended the staircase behind him. “Is everything alright?”

He frowned. When he looked back up the corridor, Piper was nowhere to be seen. Jason exhaled a heavy sigh, his shoulders falling. Annabeth appeared at his side, looking beautiful if not a bit melancholic. He could not burden her with his own worries, not tonight.

“Just fine, Annabeth,” he assured her. Jason brought a carefully composed smile to his face. “Philippa has gone to alert our driver. Are you prepared to depart?” 

Her eyes made it clear that she did not believe his façade but she did not push it. “Of course, cousin.”

Jason offered her his arm and led her toward the front of the house in silence, wondering how he had brought them to this point. Risking a glance to his side, his heart fell upon seeing the saddened expression on his cousin’s regal features, knowing that he was responsible for it.

Every choice he’d made since April had been costly, and even though he had made each one with good intentions, it had all come to nothing but failure after failure. They were floundering, he and Annabeth both, and it was entirely his own fault.

-

Domus de Venus // Miss Chase

She parted from Jason the moment that the carriage came to a stop, unable to bear the way he stared at her for a moment longer. Somewhere in her mind, she understood what he must feel, but she could not bring herself to feel that it was a reasonable reaction. He was a man— a titled man of great wealth and respect, and he had the freedom to do whatever he wanted with that power, and Jason had chosen to use his birthright to wallow in self-inflicted purgatory. 

It made Annabeth sick to witness it. 

The reception was a good distraction. The guest list was smaller than most of the other fetes of the Season with, at most, half the number of guests as had been in attendance at the Conservatory. The intimacy of the smaller crowd might have been daunting for many, but for Annabeth it felt comforting. She enjoyed that she did not see a single unfamiliar face, did not have to labor through any more introductions. 

It was a small gathering but that did not make it any less exciting. She had, as promised, given her first dance to Lieutenant Zhang who eyed her nervously— confirmation of what she’d already assumed. When the dance came to an end, she knew with certainty that the conversation had been had and Jason had likely already given his approval. It was only a matter of the timing, now. 

Probably that thought should have made her nervous, but for once it didn’t. Instead, she felt a sort of calm resolution spreading through her bones as she stood on the edge of the room and watched the next dance begin. Soon, it would be over: she would finally do what she’d been putting off for so many years and she would begin to make peace with her new walk. 

Perhaps it would be strange for a time, but she would grow to make it her own in time. The life that they would build could be a good one, if she could just let it be that simple.

At least an hour had passed when she noticed him searching the room and the panic began to swell in her throat. Annabeth stepped backwards into the crowd, hoping to blend in enough that she would not be spotted as she tried to carefully make her way toward the doors. When she emerged on the terrace, she was relieved to see that she hadn’t been followed. He would find her eventually (or Jason, if Lieutenant Zhang was unsuccessful in his search), but for now she was alone. 

The stars above were bright in the clear summer sky, constellations very nearly drawing themselves as she fixed her eyes to the heavens. It was quiet there on the landing with only the muffled sound of music from inside filtering through the walls. Annabeth wandered further down the side of the house, following the wrap-around porch around a corner and her feet came to a stop.

A figure, shrouded in shadow, leaned against the wall. The air smelled richly of tobacco and for a moment, she thought perhaps she had merely interrupted someone’s evening smoke, but when he stepped toward her, her breath hitched in her throat.

“You.”

“Miss Chase.”

Her heart pounded hard against the walls of her chest, so much so that she felt her body shudder against every pang. “What are you doing here?” He swallowed, his brow furrowing. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. Another moment passed before he cursed, barely audible as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. “What are you doing here?” Annabeth repeated, more insistent now. “Answer me.”

The Duke of Argos stepped forward, his eyes intense even in the faint light that made its way through the tall windows on the front of the hall. He took her shoulders gently, fingers pressing into the soft skin as he shook his head. 

“Don’t marry him.”

“Tasting what could have been — what should have been — didn't make it easier.”
― Kele Moon, Beyond Eden

Dumos de Venus // Lord Grace

Contrary to his usual behavior and mood at joyous gatherings, Jason found himself to be more withdrawn than usual. His mind was far away from the Tanakas’ hall, thinking of little other than the woman he had wronged that simply would not leave his thoughts. When he least expected, she returned and upended his routine. 

Phillipa McLean was many things, as he knew quite well, but perhaps more than that, she had become the thing he thought to be the pinnacle of his desires. When he puzzled over this truth, he could not truly identify a moment in which his care for her had become something so much deeper than that of a friend. He did not know why he felt himself so inescapably captivated by her charm, only that the letters had begun to increase in both length and frequency in the weeks prior to her arrival in Pallas. 

He had asked her to come to town to attend to Annabeth and while that had been true, it had not been the whole truth. Jason desired to spend a summer with her, to begin to know the woman whose written words had cast such a spell on his heart and learn what it was about her that was so magical. Instead, due to his own stupidity and thoughtlessness, he had done no such thing. Here the summer was nearly half-through and they were further apart than ever. And yet, the fondness that he held for her had not diminished in the slightest. 

The absurdity of the thing was the acknowledgement that these things could coexist. How could he know so plainly that he had done them both a disservice by allowing a spark to linger, and also wish to add fuel to the flames? 

He watched Annabeth move gracefully across the floor with her dance partner as he considered her words from earlier that day. ‘If you — with all of your God-given freedom and agency — cannot be happy, how am I ever meant to find even a moment of contentment?’ The words echoed round and round in his mind, reminding him of his pride and how he had let it sever the bond that he had begun to hold so dear.

Maybe Annabeth was right. Maybe he had been a fool to push Piper away. There might be some chafing at the knowledge that she came from a titleless family, but it was not as though his good name could not afford the scandal. Weaker men than he had gotten away with far worse. Perhaps he might still be able to—

“Lord Grace?”

The voice broke Jason from his daze. He turned to face its owner, not surprised at all to find a nervous-looking Fai Zhang moving through the crowd politely, his red coat standing out amongst the sea of muted silks and dark suits. He came to a stop just in front of Jason, bowing politely.

“Ah, Lieutenant Zhang,” Jason remarked. “Just the man that I was hoping to see.” 

“I was hoping to have a word with Miss Chase, though I seem to have lost her.” The men both looked back out over the dancefloor and Jason was surprised to see that Annabeth was no longer in his line of sight. She must have slipped away while he was lost in thought.

“I am sure that she is not far, my lord,” Jason assured him. “I believe that Anna was looking forward to speaking with you this evening as well.”

Fai turned out toward the crowd again, folding his hands behind his back as he observed the room. He seemed nervous, even to Jason. “You must know my intentions, then.”

“I had deduced as much,” he agreed, “though it is good to hear that I am not mistaken in my assumptions. Am I to also assume that this is the matter you wish to discuss?” Lieutenant Zhang nodded. “Then I am happy for you, my friend. Anna will make a fine mistress for your household.”

“Let us not get too far ahead of ourselves,” Lieutenant Zhang laughed nervously. “I must offer her my proposal first and hope that she accepts.”

Jason noticed that the Lieutenant's cheeks were slightly flushed, probably from anxiety. He looked a bit more nervous than Jason would have expected— but then again, Jason didn’t exactly have any experience to speak on. Surely the prospect of asking a woman for her hand was daunting, even in the best of circumstances, but Lieutenant Zhang seemed uneasy for other reasons as well. 

For a moment, Jason found himself wondering if he truly wished to marry Annabeth at all, or if he was merely seeking to fulfill his own responsibilities. And with a final wave of realization, he remembered that it did not matter one way or the other. The room was filled with people that were all hoping to find suitable matches so that they may begin to build the next part of their lives and move on from the frivolity and absurdity of the Season— why would Fai Zhang be spared from that curse?

“Well, I believe that we will have to find her, then,” Jason said as he forced a smile and gestured toward the dance floor. “Let us see if we can track Miss Chase down, shall we?”

-

Dumos de Venus // Perseus

Annabeth stared back in disbelief, and he himself wondered if he had imagined it. Had he really just said such a thing? ‘Don’t marry him.’ What right did he have to make such a declaration? For a moment, Percy thought that perhaps he had only imagined it, that her vacant gaze was only a reaction to his stunned silence. And then, she finally found her voice. 

“What did you say?” 

Her surprise was obvious and completely justified. He had no say in any of this. If she should wish to walk back through those doors and right into the arms of Lieutenant Zhang, Percy would not have a single valid reason to stand in her way. Still, the fingers that pressed gently into her shoulders were shaky with a fervent need to put an end to what he had predicted. 

“You—” he stammered, cursing in frustration and not caring if it was improper. “Don’t marry him, Annabeth.”

“Yes, well, you’ve said that already, haven’t you?” she asked, taking a step back and crossing her arms. His arms fell away with no resistance and he made no attempt to recover the new distance that she had placed between them, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Percy swallowed, taking in the way that the lamplight that filtered from the long windows on the front of the Dumos de Venus cast dancing shadows over her startlingly beautiful features. “Annabeth, I am asking you to hear me—”

“And I am telling you that I am listening,” she snapped, clearly growing agitated with his inability to voice his thoughts. “I have asked you twice now what you are doing here and you have yet to offer me any kind of a reply.” 

“I have seen you with the Lieutenant— more than that, I have seen how Jason looks at the two of you together,” he said hastily. “Fai is looking for you now, is he not?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Perhaps he is. What does that matter?”

“Surely you know what he means to ask,” Percy tilted his head. He eyed her carefully, watching as the twinge of nervousness crossed her face. Finally she nodded, lifting her chin. “And you are agreeable?”

“What is this newfound concern for my preference, Your Grace?” Annabeth asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. “It was not with you when we last spoke. To be sure, I would wager that you had no care at all for what I find to be agreeable.”

“I am sorry—”

“I do not beg your apologies. I desire only to know what you have against Lieutenant Zhang that would lead you into such extremes.” Annabeth lifted her chin again, defiantly beautiful. He thought, as he looked upon her, that she might have been carved by the hands of some god that had created her for the sole purpose of tormenting him. “He is a good man, which is more than many can say. He is kind and gentle, and most attentive in his time with me.”

“He is,” Percy agreed. “I know this much and more.” 

She was not swayed by his hesitation, her eyes severe as she continued. “He does not run at the sight of responsibility or duty. Lieutenant Zhang is a good man, and he would make a fine husband, would he not?”

“He would.”

“Then why are you here? Why are you here on this terrace tonight, when you have already vowed to withdraw yourself?” There was a long silence, the fervor building in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. But she was impatient. “Answer me, Perseus.”

Hearing his name on her lips was magic. It struck through him like lightning, urging him forward. “You wish to know what qualm I take with Lieutenant Zhang— fine, I will tell you,” Percy said, fingers itching to reach out and hold her. She was so close, it would be so simple. “I loathe him as I would loathe any man that captures your attention. I detest that he is a good and honest and noble man; the exact type of man that you ought to marry. Fai is all that you say and more. He would be an ideal match for you, and for that, I despise him with my entire being.”

Annabeth stared at him for a moment, her lips parting in quiet surprise. “So why then?” she asked, and he could tell by the look in her eyes that she had already deduced the answer. 

“Because he is more suited for you than I will ever be,” Percy said simply, his voice softening with the tender honesty that poured forth unfettered. He allowed himself the briefest of glances to her soft lips before he pulled his eyes back to hers. “He is a reputable man, the kind that even your finicky cousin would approve of and I—”

Her eyes were wide and dark with irises that were almost completely lost to black pupil. “Say it, Perseus,” she said quietly. Her voice was gentle, as if she thought the words might shatter on her tongue. “Say it now, or I shall walk away and we will part as if this never transpired.”

“I will never be what you deserve,” he answered. “That does not change that I wish it were so.”

The shock was evident on her face, even though he had only said what he knew they both already understood. It was true, to a fault even, that she was better than he could ever deign to be and that there was no amount of repentance that could earn her favor. 

“Have you any care at all for what I desire, then?” she asked after a brief silence. “Now that you have made your opinion known.”

“Of course I do,” Percy frowned. “Whatever pleases you, that is the path I will choose.”

“And what if the path that I choose leads you away from Pallas?” Annabeth implored, her eyes searching. Her arms uncrossed and dropped to her sides. “Can you really find it so hard to believe that I would be happy with the Lieutenant?”

“I do not find that unbelievable at all, Miss Chase,” he refuted. “Lieutenant Zhang is a perfectly worthy competitor for your affections.”

A sharp breath slipped from her perfect lips as she looked away. “Do you despise the man or not? I cannot keep up with your changing sails, Your Grace,” she spat. “You hate him in one moment, you admire him the next. Am I meant to spend this entire evening untangling your contempt or have you simply come to inform me of that which I am already well acquainted?”

“Do not misunderstand me,” Percy said carefully. His voice was low, his eyes dark. “Fai will be as doting and caring as you say, and you will live a very peaceful and contented life. But that is all that it will ever be. Simple. Insipid.”

“Insipid,” she repeated, looking a bit like she’d just taken a sip of too-hot tea. “And I am meant to take that to mean that a life at your side would not be, is that it?”

“Annabeth—” Percy’s words died before they were formed. Whatever excuses he had prepared flew from his memory as he studied her. “It is true that I came here tonight with a most unfair request, and for that I am sorry. Whatever you decide, let it be so.” He frowned, knowing innately that there was a very real possibility that this half-lit, clandestine image could be the last he ever saw of her. “Forgive me.”

Percy exhaled, defeated as he stepped past her and began to make his way toward the steps that would carry him up the path from Dumos de Venus, toward the place where his horse stood hitched to the ash tree at the edge of the property, and away from this place and this woman once and for all. 

Delicate fingers closed around his wrist. 

“Perseus, wait—”

When he looked back, the fear in her eyes mirrored the pang of grief that echoed through him so fully that he knew instantaneously that he would never be able to forget it. It was without thought that he moved toward her then, gathering her into his arms in a rush of overwhelming, blinding frenzy. To his surprise and delight, she responded in kind, her arms winding over his shoulders and drawing him nearer until finally, their lips met. 

It was slow, despite the fervor of it all. Kissing Annabeth was nothing like the lust-driven encounters of his youth— it was unlike any euphoria he had ever experienced. He could have held her there until the world fell to ashes; let the whole of society crumble around them and all that would matter was that she had been there on that terrace with him, that this moment had been real.

One of his hands pressed into the small of her back, the other cradling the back of her neck with a firm but gentle hold. He could think of nothing but her and the way that she had so completely overwhelmed each and every one of his senses: his mind's eye was completely blinded, lost to the taste and smell of her, the feel of soft skin he had been longing to know since their first meeting, the sounds of her own contented sighs. 

He let himself melt into her, drinking in the way that she seemed to fit so perfectly in his embrace. And she returned the warmth, her lips soft as they moved against his with a fluidity that surprised him. The hand that he’d been using to grip the back of her neck slid forward to cup the side of her face, holding her to him and—

“Jackson!”

Percy’s blood went cold with the realization of what he had done, pulling away from her in a flash and seeing his own worry reflected in her darkened stare. His attention was pulled away from her by the feeling of the firm grip on his shoulders as Jason shoved him away from Annabeth with a ferocity that Percy believed the lord had all but forsaken. 

The scene seemed to move in slow motion, but he still did nothing to block the punch that Jason landed square on his jaw, knowing fully well that he deserved at least as much. Percy staggered backwards, bringing a hand to the side of his face as he recovered. He was vaguely aware of Annabeth pleading with Jason to stop and, when no additional throws came his way, he gathered that her fight had been successful.

“What have you to say for yourself, Jackson?” Jason demanded, his fists still clenched tightly at his sides. Annabeth’s face was beet red, her eyes fixed to the floor, and for the first time, Percy realized that Jason had not been alone. 

“I—” Percy began, looking from Jason to Lieutenant Zhang and finally back to Annabeth. “I can make no excuses for my behavior.”

Jason reared his head at Annabeth. “And you, Anna? What were you thinking?” Annabeth could not speak, seemingly frozen in some mixture of shock and embarrassment. He sneered in Percy’s direction one last time before he turned to Fai. “My lord, I—”

“It is done, Lord Grace,” Fai shook his head. “Your ward has made her choice.”

At that, Annabeth found her voice. “What?” she gasped, taking a step forward with such urgency that she nearly tripped over her long skirt. “I have made no decisions, my lord. Please, you must allow me to explain myself.”

Percy watched her hurrying to cover their mistake, heard the fear in her voice at the thought that Fai had rejected her, and he knew how foolish he had been. Her rejection lodged in between his ribs like a blade, stinging straight through his chest. Perhaps there was some part of her that longed for him as he longed for her, but she would never be able to see past her cousin’s prejudices. Annabeth would marry the man that was suitable.

He should speak. He knew well enough to recognize as much but his tongue felt too large and too heavy and every word that he had ever known seemed to leave. The desperation in her eyes was so plain— how could he have ever thought that she would change her mind? It was clear that she still wished to marry the Lieutenant, that their stolen moment in the shadows had been just that: a moment, fleeting and forgettable. 

Forgettable to her, at least.

They all three waited to hear what the Lieutenant would say. He had in his hands an opportunity that weaker men would have tripped over themselves to possess: the chance to ruin a noble man and his ward and bring a once-proud name to its bitter end. If he decided to do so, it would take only a word for Annabeth to be ruined. 

But Fai was, as had been a recurring topic of conversation that evening, a better man than most. Though it should not have, it surprised Percy when the Lieutenant merely smiled softly.

“Miss Chase, your company has been most divine,” he said, his words measured carefully in a failed attempt to conceal the pain and disappointment in his voice, “but I cannot continue in this courtship. I will not interfere with a matter of the heart.” 

Annabeth balked. “A matter of the heart—”

“Fai, my friend,” Jason said, shaking his head, “surely you do not mean this. You must demand satisfaction— the Duke cannot be allowed to cavort this way uninhibited.”

“There is no satisfaction to be had, my lord. We had only a gentlemen's agreement, one that I will consider absolved,” he explained, and Jason seemed to grow redder by the second.

“Then I will demand it myself,” Jason objected. 

“A duel? Jason, no— I have worn mourning black too many days of my life,” Annabeth pleaded, tugging on Jason’s arm though his eyes remained trained on Percy. “Please, I beg of you— do not force me to wear it in your honor as well.”

At that, Jason glanced to his side finally. His demeanor softened only the smallest amount as he looked at her. She had that effect on people. 

“I know you must think me foolish, Lord Grace,” Fai offered, “but I assure you, this matter can and shall remain between us. I see no reason why anyone should know what happened here tonight.”

Jason was speechless. Annabeth looked to be a moment away from fainting. Percy wanted to speak but it was a useless endeavor. Lieutenant Zhang’s incomprehensible understanding had shocked them all. Could he really be so tolerant of the cavalier behavior of his would-be betrothed?

“I have no interest in stirring the matter any further. Whatever is decided between you,” the Lieutenant said as he bowed in Jason’s direction and then, inexplicably, in Percy’s, “I hope that it is for the best.”

The silence that lingered when Lieutenant Zhang retreated was palpable. Percy met Jason’s glare with a well-earned sense of shame. In the quiet, a thousand things were said, and Percy knew that he deserved each one. Jason had it in his head that Percy was some sort of detestable rake, a scoundrel that could not be trusted with his cousin, and his behavior here tonight had only proven as much. Even if he had hoped to explain, he knew that there were no words that would heal the fracture that he had caused. 

“Jackson,” Jason sneered at last. He was practically vibrating with anger, rippling off of him in waves so dense that they were nearly visible. “You understand what this means, I hope.” 

Annabeth’s eyes were wide as she shook her head. “Jason, please— you can’t do this!”

“Well, you seemed to have no quarrels with the Duke only moments ago, Anna,” he scoffed. “And now that His Grace has ruined not one but two of your arrangements, I can only deem it just that—”

“And what if I refuse?” Percy interjected. His throat was tight and dry with effort, but he could stomach it. What he could not abide, however, was the obvious fear and pain in Annabeth’s face. This was not what she wanted, that much he knew, and he would not be the reason that her future was stolen from her. In their world, women's’ choices and opinions were few; she should be granted this one, at the least. He took another deep breath as he forced his resolve to strengthen. “What if I will not agree?

Jason’s scowl somehow deepened, his face growing even more red. “You— you would ruin her? After all that you have done?”

“She will not be ruined— not if Fai is a man of his word, and I am inclined to believe that he is. I, however, will not be a pawn in your game, Lord Grace,” he said, as evenly as he could manage. “It is quite plainly not what Miss Chase desires. She is a bright, charismatic young woman; let her decide for herself.”

“She cannot,” Jason said, frowning at the very notion. “I value my cousin’s opinion on many topics, but there comes a time when the line must be drawn. I have been too lenient with her and look where it has brought us.”

“You deny Annabeth her right to agency, Jason!” Percy exclaimed. “You have not cared for her opinion once since the start of the Season; I will not play into your hand and join you in that endeavor. I cannot curse your ward to a lifetime at my side,” he said, finally looking over at Annabeth. “Not when she so clearly despises me so.”

“Your Grace,” Annabeth said softly, “I do not mean to offend—”

“And you have not, Miss Chase. You have merely made your opinion of me known, such is your right,” Percy shook his head. He watched her for another moment before he turned his attention back to Jason. “Whatever she decides, I accept. And should she decide that my name is too large a burden for her to shoulder, I will take whatever blame you deem suitable.”

“You are despicable,” Jason frowned. “I knew you were a rake but I thought that even you would not stoop so low as to involve Annabeth in our quarrel.”

Percy stared in disbelief. “Our quarrel is a figment of your imagination,” he corrected. “It is a matter you have devised from delusion to make yourself feel better about the things that you have done.”

“Bite your tongue, Jackson.”

It was likely that it would have been better for all of them if Percy had listened to the warning, but he could not. “You wish to remove your newfound self from the man that I once called my friend and that is fine,” Percy insisted, “but you cannot stand idly by and paint me to be a villain simply because I am a reminder of our shared recklessness.”

“Is that true, Jason?” Annabeth asked, looking at her cousin with disappointment in her brow. “Is that really the only reason?”

Jason’s ears were turning a vibrant shade of red that was visible even in the faint light. “You do not know what he was like, Annabeth.”

“I know enough of men to know that if you were his companion, you are as guilty as he. If you have forgiven yourself, then why not him?”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Jason explained. “I— We were boys, then; young and foolish. But we are men now and should have moved on from such things. I have.”

The implication was plain: Jason had grown up and matured and Percy had not. At least, this was the truth that Jason had decided to believe. He’d known that so much of Jason’s prejudice against him stemmed from his past sins but he hadn’t realized that it was a result of believing that he was the only one that had changed.

At his side, Annabeth looked like she might faint at any moment. The sight alone was enough to make his decision for him. Percy was not willing to force her to endure another of their fights, not when there was little left to be said.

Feeling the weight of her stare, he turned his eyes to Jason. “Whatever Miss Chase decides, I will comply,” he said, avoiding offering a direct rebuttal to his complicated accusation. “I am well versed in the tortures of longing for what cannot be— if she will not accept my proposal—”

Annabeth froze. “Proposal?”

“—then I will depart from Pallas tonight.”

A long silence lingered. Finally, Jason (who seemed to have resigned himself to the fact that a fight would not be useful) sighed. “What do you wish to do, Annabeth?”

Grey eyes turned to Percy, terrified and desperate. They shared a long stare before she looked back at her cousin. “I… I do not know.”

Jason frowned. “What do you mean, you do not know’?”

“Is that truly so difficult for you to believe, Jason?” she asked, shaking her head. “How am I meant to know what it is that I want? I have never had a need to know— I have never been asked.”

The knowledge that what she was saying was true settled heavily over him. It was so obvious that she did not know how to make this decision. He suspected that she did care for him, at least somewhat, but it was buried deep beneath twenty years of rigid upbringing and rearing and even he knew that he could not hope to break through that in an evening. 

Perhaps he was right and Annabeth’s heart did beat for him.

Perhaps it was not enough. 

“Jason, do not make this more difficult for her,” Percy said, defeated once more. “I am undeserving, as you yourself have said many times. I cannot— I will not sentence her to being miserable at my side.”

“And what of her reputation?” Jason asked. At his side, Annabeth’s face was an unreadable mix of fear, shock, and desperation. “You would leave her here to suffer gossip while you run?”

“Her reputation will not suffer. Fai Zhang will keep his word.”

“And will you?”

Percy looked at Annabeth. She was pale, her eyes glued to the floor. He wanted to break open her mind and discover what she wanted, but he knew that it was useless— even if she herself knew, he was not entitled to knowing. 

“Of course I will,” he said finally. “I will leave tonight.”

“Very well,” Jason sighed. “You understand that if you ever return—”

“Now is not a time for empty threats, Jason,” Percy shook his head. “Let us leave the dramatics to the theater players. Tonight, it will be enough to part in quiet understanding.”

Jason eyed Percy for a long moment before he looked back at his cousin. “Annabeth, I ask once more: is this what you desire?”

She made no effort to so much as acknowledge his question, her jaw tight as she wrapped her arms defensively around herself. Percy had heard enough, though.

The fear in her voice when Fai had revoked his intention, the judgment in her eyes at Jason’s suggestion that she would be wed to Percy, the fear and pain and anguish in her demeanor in every moment since. If any part of her wanted to accept his proposal, it was outweighed by her hesitations. She did not wish to hurt him— surely that resistance was what held her tongue now. 

“Jason, my friend, I hope that you know that—”

“It is done, Jackson,” Jason shook his head. “As you’ve said, there is no need for empty promises.”

Percy nodded in understanding but he had one final request that would not let him rest. “May I have a moment with Miss Chase?”

“No.”

Annabeth looked up finally. “Jason, please.”

“I’m sorry, Annabeth,” he said, shaking his head. “It is better this way.”

“I will take my leave, then,” Percy said quietly. He gave Annabeth a small, apologetic smile. “I am truly sorry, Miss Chase.”

Percy turned, walking down the front steps and disappeared into the dark.

-

Dumos de Venus // Lord Grace

The mood of the party had been soured. Jason and Annabeth did not even attempt to rejoin the attendees, departing from Dumos de Venus directly from the terrace instead. (If it had been anyone other than the Tanakas, Jason would have returned at least long enough to give their thanks to their hosts, but as it were, he was more than satisfied to simply slip away unnoticed.)

When they had settled into their carriage to begin their journey home, Lord Grace studied his ward carefully. Her eyes were glued to her lap, her lips drawn into a frown that still seemed to tremble slightly. In his wildest dreams, he could not begin to understand what she must be feeling.

“Is it true?” Jason asked after the carriage had turned out of the drive. Annabeth looked over, a silent question on her lips. “What Jackson said on the terrace— have I been cruel to you?”

She averted her gaze again, which very nearly served as answer enough. “I am not sure that I would use the word ‘cruel’, ” she answered quietly after a moment. “But you have not made my feelings simple.”

“And what are your feelings?”

“Do you truly care?”

“Of course I do,” he said softly, “and I am sorry that I have behaved in a way that suggests otherwise. I have been too concerned with appearances and not concerned enough with you. Tell me, please, what it is that vexes you.”

“I would think that you would have gathered by now,” she answered. 

“Jackson,” he guessed. She did not offer any word in reply, only shifted her eyes to her lap once more. “Annabeth, if you truly wish to be with the Duke, why did you not accept his proposal tonight?” Jason asked at last, unable to hold the question back any longer. Before he heard her answer he already knew what she must be thinking. 

For a moment, he tried to think of what he would have said if she had expressed a definitive desire to marry Jackson. He couldn’t imagine that he would have reacted well, and perhaps she had assumed as much. In that instant, he felt the shame settle into his bones at the realization that he may have come between Annabeth and happiness and tried to entertain hope that her answer would prove his fears unnecessary— but he knew better.

“I cannot trust my own heart,” Annabeth replied and Jason felt his frown deepen. “As you have told me time and time again, our reputation is far more important than silly ideas of love. I had hoped that I might attain both love and security, but I see now that that was a child’s dream.”

He felt his chest tightening with every word. A bitter truth took root suddenly: she hadn’t been ignoring him at all. In all of those moments when he thought that surely Annabeth was not heeding his advice, she had been listening attentively and had filed his words away. She had taken the advice to heart, sowed and watered it carefully— and now the sprouts were breaking through. 

Annabeth had been observing and learning all Season, piecing together her own code of honor from the fragments that he tossed in her direction. Sometime in the past months, the child he had known when he’d first arrived in Pallas had become a woman capable of great understanding and wisdom. Annabeth was proving him wrong with every breath.

It pained him to accept that he had brought them here. He watched her as she fought with herself. The anguish was so plain in her features, reminding him of the same dejection he had seen on Piper’s face when they’d last conversed. The thought of Piper stirred him even further, igniting a shame so fiery that he had to clear his throat to keep his expression neutral. 

Not only had he put unwanted distance between himself and a dear friend, he had deeply hurt her. And he knew that his reasoning was flimsy at best. The truth was plain and clear and obvious to anyone that had spent any time at all in or around Berkeley House at the start of the summer. No, there were no two ways about it: Jason was unalterably in love with Phillipa.

The prejudices that had caused him to falsely judge Jackson were the same biases that had pushed Piper away. Now, he and Annabeth both would suffer for his idiocy.

“I am sure that he would disappoint me eventually,” she replied finally. “Why not be disappointed by someone that will elevate our family name, not bring it to its knees?”

“Annabeth—”

“I have made my decision, Jason,” she said with a thin finality, turning her eyes toward the small window of the carriage. The light was virtually nonexistent, only enough to make out her frown and the faint glistening of the tears that rimmed her eyes. “I cannot marry him. I would think you would be pleased.” 

For that, he had no reply. In the silence of the carriage, Jason flexed his hand — his knuckles already aching from the blow he’d delivered — and he relished in the pain of it, knowing he deserved far worse.

-

When they at last arrived at Berkeley Place, they disembarked in silence. Annabeth’s cheeks were still reddened and damp and he tried not to stare. He wanted to tell her that he’d been stupid and foolish. In fact, as much as it shocked him to recognize it, there was a strong urge in his gut to take a horse that very instant and find Jackson himself. He could lead him back to Berkeley Place and beg for Annabeth’s forgiveness, knowing that he did not deserve it. Perhaps he could fix their course if he were just able to swallow his pride.

He was thinking on this when she called out. “Jason?”

He turned to see her standing in her open doorway, her eyes soft and tired. She looked so much like her mother then, with the exhaustion in her brow and concerned frown on her lips. His aunt, the late Lady Chase, had often worn a similar expression. It was eerie and distasteful to see the hopeless look on his cousin’s features. Annabeth was light and joy and all that was good about their family. And he was single-handedly responsible for the broken glower that she now wore.

“There is still time to set things right. Phillipa will listen if you will only speak.”

The knife in his chest twisted at her words. She stood there, aching in her own right and still seeking to guide him in his own storm. Jason tried to give her a reassuring look that he was sure did not appropriately convey his emotions. “Thank you, Annabeth.”

She nodded once before she disappeared into her bedroom and he turned back toward his own door. He crossed immediately to the dressing table that was so often ignored, collapsing onto the bench with a shaky breath. The reflection in the mirror seemed to laugh at him and he struggled to meet his own eye.

The man that stared back at him from within the looking glass was little more than a monster. He was selfish and prideful and did not concern himself with the wants of those he cared for. He spoke without thinking and acted without caution. The inverse image was someone wholly unrecognizable— so why did he mimic his movements? Why did he do just as Jason did?

He stared into the empty eyes of the man that sat across from him until he could bear it no longer. Jason readied himself for bed and prayed that he would find the courage to do what felt impossible when the sun returned. 

“It always shocked me when I realized that I wasn’t the only person in the world who thought and felt such strange and awful things.”
― John Green, Looking for Alaska

Beckendorf Manor // Perseus

After latching the heavy wooden door to the stall, Percy reached through the slats and patted his horse on the muzzle affectionately. He checked the latch once more before turning to make his way out of the stable. The night was deathly still without even the hint of a breeze, and the warm night air felt stifling. He tugged at his cravat as he walked, and the moment that it was loosened, he began unfastening the links that bound the cuffs of his shirt. Everything felt close and tight and suffocating, but maybe that was simply the effect that Pallas had on him these days. 

Entering through the garden and walking swiftly up the long corridor, Percy was unsurprised to find Silena and Charles sitting together in the drawing room. The windows were opened, despite the still air, and the room was filled with the scent of the freshly-opened peonies that bloomed just outside. Silena was focused intently on the needlework in her lap while Charles studied a ledger at her side, but both looked up when Percy entered. With a sigh, he shed his overcoat and dropped onto the sofa opposite the couple. 

“I did not expect to see you returned so early,” Silena said after it had become obvious that neither man was going to break the expectant silence. Even the candlelight could not hide his shame, apparently: she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “What happened to your face?”

Charles looked closer as well. “Have you gotten yourself into another altercation, brother? If you wish to spar so desperately, perhaps you should reconsider my offer to have you in our boxing club.”

“You would not approve, I assure you.”

“Well, now you must tell us,” Silena said, tucking her needle into the fabric of her embroidery and setting the hoop aside.

Gut instinct told him to withhold the truth, but Percy knew better than to mind it. It would have been easy enough to excuse himself, disappearing into the guest suite and avoiding the interrogation. If he had truly wished to keep the events to himself, he would not have entered the room at all. 

“I fear I have made quite a mess of things,” he said looking down, “and made a fool of myself in the process.”

“Percy, is everything alright?” Charles asked. “If you find yourself in some sort of trouble, we can help.”

“It is not trouble— not in the way that you think, at least.” Percy shook his head. He sighed and slumped back against the sofa. Finally, he forced himself to meet Silena’s eyes. “I owe you an apology, Silena; you were, as usual, correct.”

To his surprise, this complimentary confession did little to soften the concerned expression on his friends’ faces. “What do you speak of?” Silena asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Miss Chase.”

Charles lifted his head with an inhale of recognition, but Silena simply frowned. “I had heard in town that the Lieutenant was planning to ask for her hand. Has she accepted?”

“No.”

“No?”

“That is why I went there tonight: to stop her.”

Charles and Silena exchanged a mournful look. “I take it that you were successful in stopping the engagement,” Charles said as he looked forward again, folding his hands over the folio in his lap. Percy nodded. “So why, then, are you returning to us bruised and defeated?”

“I—” Percy stammered, his hands fidgeting nervously. He never could stay still for very long. “I’ve kissed her.” Silena’s eyes widened but there was no judgment intermingled with the surprise. “We were discovered.”

“Oh my,” she said quietly. “By whom?” 

“Her cousin.”

“Lord Grace?” Silena gasped, her eyes widening further. 

“Jason hit you?” Charles asked, sounding almost impressed. “And decently well, at that.”

“It was deserved,” Percy said. “Lieutenant Zhang was with him.” 

Percy told them about Fai Zhang’s surprising acceptance and forgiveness, about his oath to keep the matter private and not further marr either Annabeth’s or Percy’s already delicate reputations. He told them about Jason’s fury and Annabeth’s confusion and heartache. He told them about the humid, silent ride back to the Manor following her rejection. 

And then, for a while, they sat in silence. 

Finally, Percy cleared his throat. “I am leaving Pallas at first light.”

“You cannot,” Silena said, her voice urgent. “Not now; not when you have come so close to securing your happiness.”

“My wife is correct,” Charles agreed, shaking his head. “I feel we would be lying to each other if we did not acknowledge the truth: your business in Pallas has long since ended. You should have left some time ago, but something kept you here. I do not think I would be wrong in assuming that Miss Chase was the reason.”

“What does it matter now, Charles?” Percy asked, exasperated. “She has made her opinion of me quite plain. She cannot see through whatever prejudices Jason still holds against me, and I cannot fault her for not wishing for correction in her misconceptions.”

“Then you must tell her for yourself,” Silena insisted. “You should tell her what happened; let her hear it from your lips.” 

“It will not change the facts.”

“Perhaps not,” Charles mused, shrugging his shoulders. “What has happened in the past cannot be undone, but if she only knew the history—”

“I cannot burden Miss Chase with my miseries,” Percy scowled. “Excuses. That’s all that the past can serve to be: an excuse. She will be better off with me gone.”

Silena rose to her feet and walked carefully around the coffee table, settling into the empty spot on the sofa beside Percy. She reached a hand forward, golden brown skin soft against his as she took his hand into her own with an encouraging, compassionate squeeze. “Percy,” Silena said quietly. “You are not your father. Nor are you at all like your step-father. You cannot continue to hold their sins above your own head.”

His jaw clenched but he did not object. 

“You have been free from the burden of their shadow for some time,” she reminded him. “Do not let their faults define you. You have much life left to live and it would break my heart to see you refuse to seize happiness because you do not feel worthy of it.”

Percy glared at the coffee table, not knowing where else to look. He could not face Silena and see the sympathy resting in her countenance; could not bear to look up and see the pity in Charles’s eyes. He swallowed, his mind feeling a thousand miles away. “I could have saved her.”

“No, you couldn’t, mate,” Charles objected. “You know that.”

“I just stood there.”

“You were only a child.”

“And what have I done since?” Percy inquired, looking up at last. “What good have I brought to the world in my added days? My mother was a saint and I am—” his voice tapered off. He tugged his hand free from Silena’s. “She would despise what I have become.”

“You know that is not true,” Silena insisted. She seemed to be searching for the right thing to say. “You lost your way,” she said finally, “but you found it once more. Salacia would be beside herself with pride.” 

“You did not know her.”

“Well, I did,” Charles interrupted. “I may have only been a boy, but I remember her well, Percy— Salacia adored you. You were the light of her life. There was nothing that you could do that would cause you to lose her favor. Your mother would be furious with you for only one thing: your refusal to forgive yourself and move on.”

His muscles felt like they had been replaced with lead, his chest tight and aching. Percy did not speak of his mother often for this very reason. He could not stand to think of how he could feel her disappointment wafting from the afterlife, or how he had failed their family so spectacularly at such a young age. 

“I am afraid that we cannot know what it is that your mother would say to you now,” Charles continued, “but I cannot believe that she would be at peace if she knew that you were so intent on tormenting yourself.”

Percy frowned, his jaw sore from either being clenched too tightly for too long or from Jason Grace’s fist (or, most likely, some mixture of both). He tried to hear Charles’s reassurances and accept them, though it was not without great effort. They seemed to understand that Percy was deep in his thoughts — rifling through memories and trying to make sense of what had been said to him this evening — and sat patiently in the silence. 

Some time had passed before anyone spoke again. Finally, Percy looked up, turning to meet Silena’s soft, understanding eyes. “What can I do?”

-

Berkeley Place // Miss Chase

When the sound of the tapping on her door reached her ears, Annabeth was nervous to cross the room and answer it. She worried that she would open the door to find Mellie there again, perhaps with another conflicting note in her hands, and Annabeth was not sure that she had the strength to face it. But she managed to drag her feet across the hardwood anyway, twisting the crystal doorknob slowly.

To her relief, it was only Piper. She stepped back, allowing Piper to enter and closed the door behind her again. Wordlessly, Piper propped herself up against the headboard, shifting a pillow to her lap, and Annabeth laid down. She let the soothing touch of Piper’s fingers combing through her curls relax her as she stared at the moon sinking lower in the sky outside her window. 

At least a quarter-hour must have passed in that way before Piper finally risked breaking the silence. “Do you wish to tell me what happened?” she asked, her voice soft as her fingers continued to pull gently through Annabeth’s curls. “Mellie only told me that you were upset.”

“I’ve ruined everything,” Annabeth said simply. “It was right in front of me and I could not make myself reach out and take it.”

“What was in front of you?” Piper wondered, confusion plain in her voice. 

Annabeth sighed. “Everything.” It felt melodramatic but that did not make it at all untrue. She pushed up from the mattress, sitting in front of Piper and running the edge of the top sheet between her fingers absentmindedly. “The Duke kissed me.”

“At the reception?” Piper asked, her doe eyes wide. 

“On the terrace,” she explained. “Jason and Lieutenant Zhang found us.”

A hand went to Piper’s mouth in surprise but her eyes still glistened with excitement. “What happened?”

Annabeth buried her face in her hands. “Jason struck him.”

“Jason?” Piper gawked. “Surely not—”

“He did,” Annabeth assured her, lowering her hands. “It didn’t escalate thankfully. And Lieutenant Zhang— he was so strange in his reaction. I think that he was not any more infatuated with the idea of our being married than I was. He seemed almost relieved to have a reason to back out.” 

“If that is true, then why would he have courted you in the first place?”

“Why do any of us submit to this ritual?” Annabeth countered. “Duty, responsibility to his family. If not that, then as a favor to Jason, perhaps. But he seems to have no interest in bringing the scandal public, so at least the only judgment that I will be forced to endure will be from my cousin.”

“How has Jason responded?”

“Poorly. Though I cannot begin to unravel his mind these days.” Annabeth shook her head, looking back out toward the windows. “I used to think that we were one in the same. We have always been so very much alike in our desires and our goals, but this Season has driven a wedge between us.”

She could feel Piper watching her carefully. “You miss the closeness.”

“Of course I do,” Annabeth nodded as she looked back at her friend. “He is the only family that I have left, one of my few friends. Without the assurance that I can safely confide in him, I must admit that I feel rather unmoored.”

“How were things left this evening?” Piper asked. “Was he still so angered upon your return?”

She thought about it for a moment, trying to decide what to make of her last glimpses of Jason. He had seemed different, but had he calmed? “I am not sure, Piper,” Annabeth sighed at last. “He seemed to be disturbed by the truth I have burdened him with.”

“And what truth is that?”

“That I have acted against my heart,” she said easily. “That the Duke as good as proposed this very night, and I rejected him only because I could not bring myself to go against Jason.”

“He proposed to you?” Piper gasped. “Annabeth—”

“Not in so many words, but the implication was clear.” 

“Well, I am sure that the Queen would be beside herself to know that you’ve found yourself teetering on not one but three engagements this Season.” Piper said after a beat of silence, and Annabeth could only think that it was in an attempt to lighten the mood. “She would be positively chafed by the knowledge that she had judged you so incorrectly.”

“I am not so sure that she was wrong,” Annabeth frowned. “I cannot imagine that there will be another opportunity for me this Season. I fear I have made myself known as something of a waste of precious time.”

“Bite your tongue,” Piper scolded. “I won’t have another word of this self-pity; it is not like you to be so pessimistic.” 

“What is there to be optimistic about, Piper?” she asked, holding out her hands. “The Duke is gone— he is preparing to depart from Pallas as we speak. And I will remain here; my cousin’s unwed burden. I warned you at the start of the summer that I feared he would grow to despise me and that prophecy seems to have, regrettably, come to pass.”

“Jason does not see you as a burden,” Piper assured her. “I know that it must seem that way, but you know as well as I how unskilled Jason is at letting his true feelings be known. If I had to wager a guess, I would say that he is punishing himself for making you feel like you could not go with Jackson.”

“I cannot see a reality in which that is true.” Annabeth sighed heavily. “It is no matter. I plan to ask Jason to allow me to retire from the remainder of the Season. He will be angry, to be sure, but at least we can put this behind us.”

Clack.

“What was that?” Piper asked, looking around the room.

“It was probably one of the servants in the hall,” Annabeth shrugged, looking down at her hand. “Our cook keeps strange hours.”

Clack.

“There it is again!” Piper crawled to the edge of the bed and got to her feet excitedly. “It came from the window.”

“It is probably a bird or some other animal—”

Piper gasped when she reached the windowsill. “Annabeth, come and look.”

Annabeth, bewildered, got to her feet nervously. She hurried to Piper’s side. On the walk in front of the house, a handful of pebbles in his left hand, stood the Duke of Argos. 

-

“What are you doing here?” Annabeth whispered harshly as she wrapped the shawl more tightly over her shoulders. 

The entry was silent but for her soft voice, hardly any light except for the candle she carried. His jaw was already beginning to show the discoloration of the hit he’d received a few hours before but looked otherwise normal. “I had to see you.”

“I thought that you were leaving Pallas.”

“I could not leave without knowing that your decision had been informed,” Perseus explained, shaking his head. “I wish for you to know the truth. If you still wish for me to leave, then I will go.”

The hallway felt too small suddenly. She took a small step backward, glancing around as if she expected Jason to appear at any moment. “I—”

“Annabeth,” he interrupted, reaching forward and taking her hand lightly into his. His eyes were urgent and pleading, his touch setting fire to her skin even at the brief, innocent contact. “Please.”

“It is not that I do not want to hear you,” she said at last, “but what if we are discovered? You should not be here at all, and we should certainly not be sneaking around in the dark.”

“What is the worst that can happen, Miss Chase?” Percy asked, his thumb tracing lightly over the back of her hand. “We have survived scandals worse than this.”

He had a point in that. Piper already knew that Annabeth had let him inside the house, and Mellie wouldn’t be looking for her until morning. It wasn’t likely that anyone would ever have to know that Perseus had been there at all. And even if they were found out, Jason would be perhaps furious, but that would be the extent of the damage.

“Alright,” Annabeth nodded, her hand (regrettably) slipping away as she turned. “Come— I will show you to the library.”

Perseus seemed to exhale with relief as he followed her up the hall, both of them careful to keep as silent as possible. When they reached the room, Annabeth used the candle in her hand to light a pair of oil lamps that sat on either end of the chaise as Perseus closed the door carefully. Seeing as all sense of what was proper had been thrown to the wind, Annabeth hardly even blinked at the action. She placed her candle on the mantle and settled onto the chaise, and Perseus joined her a moment later. 

“I scarcely know how to begin,” he said carefully. “I want you to know who I was when Jason knew me— but I suppose in order to do that, I have to go back to when I was just a boy myself.”

Annabeth took a deep breath as she readied herself to hear whatever it was that was so invaluable that he had decided she simply could not go on not knowing. He fidgeted with his hands in his lap just the way that she often did when she was anxious and she was surprised to realize that she found his nervousness to be somewhat endearing. 

“Your cousin despises me because I am a reminder of his own reckless youth,” Perseus said after another moment of thought. “And perhaps there is some validity to his feeling— God knows I have done enough to deserve it. But he does not understand the whole of the matter.”

“Surely you must see how your riddle only serves to confound me further, Your Grace.”

“Please,” he breathed, shaking his head intently, “I beg that you would call me Percy. Perseus if you must, but I cannot hear Your Grace any longer. Not from you.”

Annabeth nodded in understanding. “Percy, then.” The corner of his mouth very nearly quirked into a smile at that and she felt the blush on her cheeks in response. A moment later, it slipped away and his somber expression returned.

“When I was perhaps five, my father left on an expedition. It was not unusual for him to be gone for weeks at a time but this was different. A full month came and went without any word,” he explained. “And then another, and it was clear that something had gone horribly wrong. None of the crew were ever seen again. My mother was distraught— my father was not a perfect man, but he took care of us. Admitting that he was gone was earthshaking: my mother came from nothing and there was nowhere for us to go. I was not yet old enough to take any control and there was no one to serve as an advisor. But there was a clause in the accords my father left behind that would allow my mother to retain control of the estate… if she remarried.” 

Annabeth felt her shoulders droop. Marriage— it was always marriage, wasn’t it? What else was a woman good for? And obviously one could not possibly be capable of managing a household without a man at her side. The reminder, nestled neatly in the midst of Percy’s memories, jabbed at her crudely. 

“The complication was that by the time the executor informed us of this clause, the time frame had nearly ended. And my mother,” Percy sighed, “she faced an impossible choice. She could take me away and forfeit all claim that I would have on my father’s dukedom, or she could marry quickly and attempt to protect my birthright. She, regrettably, chose the latter option.”

“Regrettably?” Annabeth asked, somewhat surprised. She could think of little that a man with a Duke’s claim could have to regret. “She protected your inheritance, did she not? Surely you do not think that was a mistake.”

The silence of the library felt heavier as Percy wrestled with an answer to her inquiry. “The man that she married was a waste. My stepfather, Gabriel, brought nothing but misery to our lives. He was a gambler and a drunkard from the moment that they were wed. I am sure that he struck my mother more than once, though she never said as much. Her entire demeanor changed after he arrived, though, and I have never forgiven him for that. It was a miserable childhood from then on. I had friends — Lord Beckendorf to name but one — but even they could provide little distraction. 

“We took a voyage when I was twelve,” he continued. “It was something my mother and I had done every year around the time of my birthday, something that we had done with my father before his passing. It was never a lengthy journey— usually a short trip up the coast to Dover, or perhaps Margate if the weather was amiable. And that year, Gabriel had insisted on joining us. I remember thinking that it was strange but my mother seemed accepting of the notion so I put my concern away. I was twelve— his insistence did not seem important at the time.”

Percy stared straight ahead, a distant, glassy haze in his eyes as if he were looking straight into the past to recount each and every detail. His jaw clenched for a moment before he looked down at the floor. 

“I heard something in the night, a ruckus of some sort, and snuck out of my bunk to investigate. I… I was nearing the deck when I heard my mother’s voice. She was pleading with someone,” Percy said, his eyes going glassy again. “She kept saying, ‘Don’t do this; you can’t do this’ . I remember peering out from below deck just in time to see her tumbling over the railing.”

Annabeth gasped. She couldn’t help it. She had assumed from his cool demeanor that the story would surely be dark, but never would she have imagined something so gruesome. 

“I just stood there,” Percy said, “frozen. I could not move, I could not speak. I told my voice to cry out but nothing happened. The next thing that I remember was arriving in port in Guernsey the following morning. Gabriel claimed that my mother had risen in the night and never returned to their cabin. I do not know why I could not bring myself to challenge him— perhaps it was grief or fear or misunderstanding. Whatever it was, it ended with Gabriel and I returning home alone.

“He sent me away to a school across the sea immediately. I lived there year-round until I was of-age and all the while, Gabriel filandered and gambled and did whatever he desired. I can only think that he wanted my mother out of the way so that he could do as he pleased with my family’s money,” Percy sighed. “He spent his days constructing tales of my wrongdoings, reporting that I was in some ill state or other and that was why I had not returned from school. Some of the rumors were broad enough that they reached me even in Denmark, but I was helpless to do anything but stand by and let my name and my family’s reputation be ruined.”

Annabeth thought about the rumors that she had heard of the Duke in the short while that she had known him. It made sense that the sins of the father (or in this case, stepfather) would be inherited by the son when they were so severe. For a moment, she kicked herself for not asking Jason to be more forthright regarding his prejudices— perhaps if she had only known why he despised Percy she could have unraveled the truth on her own.

“By the time I returned home at eighteen, Gabriel was showing signs of the life he had lived. I was older and stronger and he had done little other than age and begin to rot. I think that my mere presence was a threat. I could see how he looked at me and I noticed how he seemed to watch me from time to time. I was old enough to take the title if I wanted it; Gabriel knew that. That was when I began to understand that if I did not do something, I would end up like my mother. 

“So, Annabeth,” he said carefully, tilting his head in her direction, “I have to say that it was indeed quite regrettable that my mother joined herself to such a man. The clause was a foolish formality and my mother was foolish for bending to it. ”

“I… I am sorry, Percy.” Annabeth hesitated, unsure of how to continue. “I had no idea.”

“How could you?” he asked, scoffing though the annoyance did not seem to be directed at her. “I am sure Jason would not have cared to burden you with the truth.”

“Jason knows all of this?”

Percy sighed. “I suppose this is where the story becomes complicated.”

Annabeth straightened slightly in an attempt to ready herself for whatever revelation was due to be bestowed upon her.

“I enrolled in University out of necessity more than anything else. I was not ready to take on the responsibility of controlling a province and I hoped that Gabriel’s health would take care of the obstacle in my absence,” Percy explained. “But I, unfortunately, was foolish and young— I thought that if Gabriel had already tarnished my reputation so severely, there was no point in attempting to protect it. This was when I first met Jason.” 

Percy looked over at her, and she felt the fear in his gaze— it was almost as if he were afraid that she would not be willing to hear him out. In a flash of bravery, she reached a hand forward to rest on his forearm in a gesture of reassurance. The effect was instantaneous: a shimmer of gratitude in his eyes as he rested his hand over hers.

“What he says of me is true,” Percy said carefully, and it was obvious that he did not enjoy admitting it. “Or, it was, at least. I was not a respectable man in my school years: I gave myself to drink and was consumed with an insatiable anger. I had no concern for the women I ruined, and the thought haunts me still. This… this was the person that your cousin knew. This is the person that he believes me to be, even now.”

Annabeth looked down at their hands, his olive skin resting against her pale fingers with a tenderness she had never known. Perhaps she was naive for believing him, but at her core she knew that this was not the touch of a man with malice in his heart. Without reason or cause, she trusted him. 

“When did you part?” she asked. “Surely it was sudden if Jason has not kept up with you since.”

“I fear you are correct,” he nodded. “I spoke before of my stepfather— of the fear in his eyes when he looked at me. You know what acts of incomprehensible violence weak men are capable of, to be sure?”

Annabeth’s mind flashed back to that night on the di Angelos’ terrace and the way that Lord Castellan had descended upon her so quickly following her rejection. Her wrist seemed to ache at the mere memory. She met Percy’s eye knowingly and nodded slowly. 

“Gabriel wasted no time, Annabeth,” Percy said, shaking his head slightly, almost as if he could not believe it even now. “Near the end of our respective jaunts about the continent, Jason and I crossed paths, and he agreed to accompany me home for a short visit so that we might catch up. But we had only been settled for a matter of hours when Gabriel descended upon me. What he had not counted on was how we had both changed— while he was festering and stewing in his misery, I had become a man. I was ready to take my title and my claim, and I was not willing to back down.”

The thought struck Annabeth suddenly, like lightning. She hadn’t noticed before, but she realized then that Percy had only been speaking of his stepfather in a past tense. Gabriel was. Without meaning to, she held her breath.

“He challenged me, naturally,” he breathed, voice hollow. It was as if it pained him to tell her this, and she ached to comfort him even in her stunned paralysis. “And we fought. Verbally first — which was nothing new — but it became physical quickly. I had given up fighting long ago, but I could not stand there and take his assault. I returned the onslaught with only one blow. It was a solid hit, and would certainly have broken his jaw, but he—” Percy’s brow furrowed as if he could not believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth. “He lost his footing. Gabriel fell backwards, tumbling headfirst down the staircase. He did not move again.”

Annabeth’s mouth was dry. She could feel the gentle tremble of Percy’s hand as it still rested over hers. His jaw was tight. If he was putting on some sort of mask in an attempt to feign his distress, it was remarkable— but she knew better. He was barely holding back his shame and regret. 

“Jason came running at the sound of the altercation. He entered the hall to find my stepfather’s broken, lifeless body at the foot of the stairs,” Percy said, staring at the floor, “and me, red-faced and panting, with bruising knuckles and no excuse to offer.”

The explanation was somehow more than enough to explain every question that she had, while also leaving her completely wistless. “Surely he allowed you to explain?” Annabeth asked, already knowing the answer.

Percy simply shook his head. “Jason, I think, was frightened. He had his own future to be concerned with. He had just been informed of your brother’s passing, though I did not know anything of your family at the time, and he knew that he would be taking on a ward.” At that, he seemed to allow himself a bit of a laugh in the form of a short exhale through his nostrils. “It is funny how the world plays her tricks.”

“He never spoke a word of this to me,” Annabeth said, trying to sort through her memory and pinpoint the day that Jason had arrived in Pallas to take over the management of the household. She wondered if there had been signs of his state of panic then, if she would have noticed them if she had known then what she knew now. “Jason did not so much as make mention of you until that first night that we met at the Beckendorfs’.”

“I can believe it. While I was struck mute, frozen on the landing, he lashed out in his own anger with reminders of all my shortcomings. Jason did not believe that I was capable of change, and I think that, perhaps, I believed him. I did not try to prevent his leaving. I thought for sure that he would report my crime to the courts and I waited for my justice. None came.” Percy slowly looked at her again. “It does not bring me any pleasure to admit this, but I spent several weeks in the bottle. I have no recollection of the time that followed Gabriel’s death. By the time I finally pulled myself up from my pathetic state and woken from my stupor, the matter had been dealt with and I’d taken my title.”

“And Jason came back to Pallas thinking you a drunken murderer,” Annabeth said cautiously, hating the way he winced at her statement, no matter what truth it held. “He thought you had not only refused to turn from the ways of your youth, but that you had actually become even more corrupted.”

“And that is why I cannot blame him for judging me so harshly.”

Thinking back on that night had Annabeth wrestling with another realization. She recalled perfectly Jason acting as if he had simply heard of the death of Gabriel through common hearsay, but now Percy was telling her that he had been present in the immediate aftermath. Her brow furrowed before she looked up again.

"But I do not understand," she shook her head. "On that night we first met, Jason spoke as though he had only just learned of your stepfather's passing."

"I assume he was attempting to protect us both— at least, that is what I have reasoned for myself." Percy sighed. "If Jason were to imply anything else, it would place him at the scene, meaning that he would have evaded interrogation as a witness to the altercation. Perhaps it was a bit theatric to go to such lengths with only yourself as an audience, but—"

"Jason is nothing if not theatrical," Annabeth agreed. "I suppose that makes sense."

There was another lingering silence as Percy stared down at the floorboards, no doubt wrestling with the weight of the memories he had so graciously unearthed on her behalf. It felt selfish to expect even more from him, but she could not think of a time better suited to that dissolution of confusion.

“My cousin says that you do not wish to marry,” she said finally, voicing the thought before she could bite it back. The fear was reasonable, she decided. If he had come here tonight, surely he had anticipated that she would wonder. “Why?”

Percy bit his lip. “I have seen what marriage to a foolish man did to my mother— how could I doom another woman to such a fate? Jason’s details are perhaps misunderstood, but his reasoning is sound. What can I offer to you if I am all that he says?”

“But you know that you are not,” she shook her head. “And I know that you are not. Jason was too quick to believe the worst of you. His piousness… it is his fatal flaw. You did what you had to do, Percy; surely you must know that. I cannot say that I would not have done the same.”

There was a long silence, so still that Annabeth could hear the flame dancing on the cloth wick of the lamp to her side. Finally, his expression softened, eyes growing warmer with a fondness that she had not seen before. “I believe you.” His eyes looked over her face slowly. “And that is why I am so drawn to you.”

Annabeth could feel her heartbeat in her throat. “Why?”

“Because you are filled with fire, Miss Chase,” Percy said quietly. Her pulse quickened as he lifted his hand away from the place that it had been resting and so boldly moved to cup her cheek. The way he so cautiously drew her in, allowing her every opportunity to turn away, gave her the confidence that she needed to trust him once and for all. Without realizing, she relaxed beneath the touch, letting her cheek lull against his palm as he brought their foreheads together.  “The same fire that burns through me.”

It was Annabeth that closed the space between them this time, letting her lips have another taste of him. It was not as frantic as it had been just hours before, though the rush was every bit as strong. The realization of what had transpired here tonight fell over her as his arms drew her nearer and despite herself, she could not help but wonder about this fire he spoke of. 

The words of the bard came to her in a fury. Courage, she thought. The courage to make love known. It was what separated them from the rest, it was what had bound them together from the start. Their fight to buck against what was expected of them and find their own way had brought them to the precipice once more— and this time, she was ready.

Annabeth pulled away only enough to cup his face, her eyes scanning over the subtle bruise along his jaw before they locked onto his. When she opened her mouth at last, her voice was sure. “Ask me again.”

“You—” he stammered, looking bewildered for a moment before the realization seemed to crash into him. Percy brushed her hair out of her face, gazing at her with such admiration that it warmed her to her core. “You would marry me?”

She nodded, having never felt more certain of anything in all her one and twenty years. “Yes.”

art by amesliu

“How does she explain that she used to be afraid to love anyone
because there’s a well at the center of her chest
and she doesn’t know where the bottom is?”
― Casey McQuiston, One Last Stop

Berkeley Place // Lord Grace

The night was long and restless but when morning did finally arrive, Jason was glad to see it nonetheless. The rising sun meant an end to his tossing and turning, if not an end to his great suffering. When he’d retired the night before, he’d made a vow to himself that he would do what he could to make some kind of reason out of their complex predicament, and that was precisely what he intended to do.

Dressing was hasty and Jason took little care as he changed into suitable clothes and hurried out of his rooms. It was still too early to expect the women of the house to have stirred, but he couldn’t wait a moment longer. Jason paced up the hallway quickly, walking straight past Annabeth’s door and coming to a pause just outside the guest quarters. As he steadied his nerves, he listened to the sounds of the house: a muffled clatter of a pan from the kitchens below, a lark somewhere near an opened window that was gracing the inhabitants of Berkeley Place with a song. 

After another moment of hesitation, Jason knocked on the door and waited. And waited. He knocked again and he waited again. When a full minute had passed, Jason twisted the knob beneath his palm and pushed the door open, his stomach dropping at the sight of Miss McLean’s untouched bedding. In an instant, he’d arrived at Annabeth’s door, entering without warning. He was relieved to see that her bed had been slept in and the lump beneath the blankets gave him a bit of relief, for at least Annabeth had not also disappeared. 

“Annabeth,” he said, sounding slightly panicked, “something is wrong. Miss McLean is gone.” He waited for a response but none came. There was a movement beneath the blanket and slowly, a bit of dark hair peeked over the edge of the comforter. “Piper?”

A sigh accompanied the sound of the blankets being thrown back at last and Piper sat up, her face bright and alert despite having just woken. She stared back at Jason defiantly but made no effort to address him. 

“What… What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” she said at last, lifting her chin as she eyed him. The way that she voiced the comment did not sound like a question, but rather an accusation. “I might ask why you were looking for me, my lord.” 

“Well… You did not answer when I knocked on the door to your rooms,” Jason explained, “and when I saw your bed was undisturbed, I worried that you— that something may have happened.”

“That is not what I am asking,” Piper said clearly. She pushed the blankets away as she got to her feet, ivory chemise flowing effortlessly over her warm, brown skin. There was a knowing challenge in her eye as she stepped toward him and Jason fought to keep his expression even. “It is rather improper for you to be alone in my quarters at any hour, much less before the house is even fully awakened, is it not? What if we were discovered?”

“It does not matter. This is my home and—”

“Ah, so your rigid formality and propriety do not apply to you when in your home,” she mused, nodding slightly. “Those rules only apply to… everyone else.”

“Why are you so intent on vexing me, Miss McLean?” Jason asked, his eyes flitting to her neck, to the way her usually meticulously pinned hair now hung in carefree tendrils around her face. “I have only come to ensure that you are safe; I do not see why that should earn me such beratement.”

Whatever fight had died in Philippa’s eyes in the recent weeks returned in a moment. “Is that really why you’ve come?” she asked. Piper took another step forward. “Why were you looking for me at all, Lord Grace?”

Jason had no response. For one, he was finding himself completely embarrassed to be in her presence in her undone state— to say nothing of the fact that her closeness and taunting eye had all but left him speechless. His initial reasons for seeking her out seemed to be a distant memory, one that he was struggling to recover at present. 

“I asked a question, Jason,” Piper breathed.

“Where has Annabeth gone?” he asked, his jaw clenching. “I know that you must know.”

“Of course I do,” she smiled mirthfully. “Now, whether I feel amiable to sharing that information with you is another matter entirely, isn’t it?”

A thousand thoughts seemed to swarm his mind all at once, and none louder than the part that longed to run his fingers along the soft skin of her her exposed arms, or to brush her hair over her shoulder gently—

“If you know, you must tell me,” Jason said suddenly, pulling his focus back to her face. When her hard expression did not soften, he sighed. “Please, Piper. At least tell me that she is safe.”

“Of course she is safe,” Piper shook her head. “Do you truly think that I would be standing here if I thought that she were in any sort of danger? How little you think of me.”

“You know that is untrue,” he refuted. Jason felt a pang of guilt, wondering if she truly thought that he could even be capable of thinking poorly of her, but he knew he did not have the right. He had been horribly cruel to her and he deserved whatever doubt she had and more. “Piper, I— I owe you an apology.”

“You should save it until you have heard what I have yet to tell you,” she said without hesitation, “as I believe that your reaction may justify another apology.” Jason took a deep breath and nodded in acceptance. “It is about Annabeth.”

“So she’s left, then.” Jason exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. The notion that Annabeth might have run away did not altogether surprise him— it would be far from the first time she’d done such a thing. “What will it take for you to tell me where she has gone?”

“I am not nearly so stubborn,” Piper sighed, rolling her eyes. “Annabeth is downstairs; she is receiving a caller.”

“The sun is barely in the sky— I do not see how that is possible.”

“Well, the sun was already beneath the horizon when he first arrived,” she explained, crossing her arms. “It was well after you had retired. He beckoned her from the window and she went downstairs to meet him. I have not seen her since.”

“And you let her go? Who was this man?” Jason asked, his eyes narrowing in frustration. The corner of Piper’s mouth pulled into a smirk and Jason knew the answer immediately. “Where have they gone?”

“Oh, calm yourself, Jason,” Piper said, waving off his concern as she turned away from him. Her steps were light as she crossed the hardwood and picked up her shawl from the chest at the end of the bed, draping it around her shoulders. Perfectly at ease, she perched on the edge of the bench. “They have not gone far. He wanted to speak with her in private, and seeing as you would not give your permission, the Duke found other ways. Can you blame his persistence?”

“It is not his persistence that perturbs me but his petulance,” Jason answered. “It is not proper—”

“Is that truly the only reason you are so angered, Jason?” 

He cut his eyes toward her and he almost regretted it. There was something almost unfairly magical in the way that she sat staring back at him. There was no hint of nervousness or concern in her gaze as she eyed him, her lips parted softly. She was effortless and beautiful, her soft skin catching the early morning light. Where had she learned to carry herself with such confidence? Why had he not noticed it before?

“She is happy, Jason,” Piper said, her voice softer now. “She has found something in him that I had only dreamed possible for her. It is a good match— verily, I cannot say that there exists a better match for her.” Jason shifted his eyes, unable to take the weight of her stare any longer. “And so I will ask once more, my lord: what issue do you take with the Duke that is worth disrupting her chance at a joyous life?”

“He is not as he seems.”

“How many of us are?” At that, he turned to face her but she continued before he could interrupt. “I know a side of you that most cannot claim,” she explained. “That does not make either version a fraud. Humans are multifaceted— surely you can recognize that truth.”

“It is not so simple, Pippa,” Jason urged, taking a step toward her. “He was ruinous in school; a complete rake of a man. And the things he has done since are not much better. It is well past time for us to have become men and take responsibility.”

“Have you considered the possibility that he may have changed?” Piper pried. “Are you yourself not leagues apart from the man who arrived here but three years ago to take control of this household? If you are capable of such growth, then why not the Duke?”

“I cannot believe it possible; not when he still behaves like a child,” he sighed. “I have had nothing but trouble from him—”

“Of your own creation,” she interrupted, a bit of a bite in her words now. “Jason, I admire and respect that you care so deeply about Annabeth and her reputation, but you must realize how short-sighted you have been through this Season. Jackson has been nothing short of perfect with her. Why will you not allow yourself to see that?”

“Perfect?” Jason repeated. He laughed bitterly, a scoffing sort of sound that escaped him as he stepped toward the window and peered out at the morning. “You can sit there and call his behavior acceptable when you know what he has done just this past night?”

“Is Annabeth not equally to blame for that misstep?”

“That is not relevant—”

“I don’t see why it would not be,” Piper shrugged. “She acted just the same as he did, if I am correct. If his honor is on the line, hers should be as well. Or do you deny her the agency of making such a decision for herself?”

“You know that I do not.” Jason shook his head. “Annabeth is perfectly capable of deciding things for herself, but she can be too… accommodating.”

“You—” Piper could not contain her laughter. “You think that she kissed Jackson to be accommodating?”

“It is not funny, Philippa,” he said urgently as he turned back to face her. “Annabeth deserves to marry someone that will honor her. Someone that is noble and kind and good. Not a child masquerading as a man.”

“Enough, Jason,” Piper said with finality as she got to her feet. “You are bitter that you do not have control over the situation, that much is plain. But I will not stand by and allow you to bemoan the downfall of your cousin all because she possesses the courage to go after the things that she desires. I suppose that familial trait did not extend to you.”

Jason felt as though she had punched him in the gut. It was several long seconds before he recovered his senses and felt the breath begin to return to his lungs. He took a slow step toward her and then another, coming to a stop just an arm’s length away. “What do you know of what I desire?”

A pink tint flushed her brown cheeks, her eyes clearly reflecting the surprise that the forwardness of his comment had inspired. Her gaze drifted over his face before returning to meet his and Jason could think of nothing but her eyes, warm like scotch and hard as amber. Whatever she wanted to say was frozen on her tongue and barred from passing her lips. 

“What do you say now, Miss McLean? You have every reason and right to scorn me and I would not hold it against you, but I beg that you will hear my pleas before you make your decision.” He took a careful step closer and when she did not move away, he pulled her hand into his. “I have regretted each moment since our falling out. I did not know what I was putting away by letting my tongue fly so unbridled.”

“You only said what was truthful, my lord—”

“Truth matters less than intent, does it not? 

“‘Annabeth would be throwing her life away by marrying a commoner’,” Piper replied, her face tilting down as she stared at the place where their hands met. His words on her tongue sounded even more harsh than they did as they had echoed in his memory, and it was obvious that she had been meditating on them as well. “That is what you said to me; I think that your intent was fairly plain.”

“My intent was to protect Annabeth,” Jason said a bit hesitantly, “and I must confess that my commitment to that goal has blinded me to many things, not the least of which was that speaking so harshly with you was not at all acceptable. But the simple and irrefutable fact remains — whether I care to admit to it or not — that I have done little for Annabeth other than cause her undue distress.”

At that, Piper lifted her gaze again with seemingly renewed interest in his words. 

“And if that is the price of my — what did you call it before? Rigidity?” he urged, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Then I must accept that perhaps the things I have always thought to be simple and true are more nuanced. You, Miss McLean, challenge what I have always thought to be fact. Before I knew you, I did not know any other way.”

“Jason—”

“You have shown me that this life does not have to be a bitter one. And you have, despite my meddling and failures, managed to help Annabeth find happiness,” Jason continued. He looked down briefly. “I may not understand what it is that draws her to him, but I fear that I would have to be a truly foolish man to stand in the way of my cousin if she is to be won by a Duke.”

“So you will not protest a courtship, then?” Piper asked, her eyes lightening. “You will give Jackson your blessing?”

“If that is what makes Annabeth happy,” he nodded. “If it is true that he has changed, I cannot see a reason why she should not be well provided for. And she is wise— she would not entertain him if she did not see anything worth pursuing. I fear that I have not given her the credit she deserves. My cousin is, above all things,” Jason said as he took Piper’s other hand, “a remarkable judge of the company she keeps.”

Their stare held for a long moment until finally Piper cleared her throat and withdrew her hands, taking a step back. “That is all very good,” she said, her voice sounding a bit hollow, “but I do not see how it changes our situation in the slightest, Lord Grace.”

The title, on her lips, sounded horrifyingly ugly. It was a word he wanted to pick apart and set ablaze— to hell with whatever it would mean. If it caused her any displeasure, he wanted to destroy it. “I ask once more that you would not call me that.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” Piper snapped, her gentle façade shattering at once. “This title, this little thing that means so much to you — it is what stands between us, is it not? It is so important that you allow it to control your words and decisions, regardless of what your heart wants; that you will throw all else away to preserve whatever frail symbolism lives inside those four letters. And if the thing means so much to you, how can I not cling to it?”

It was Jason that was struck speechless this time. His mouth opened and closed again as he swallowed, searching for the right thing to say and coming up short. 

“Yes, that is what I thought,” she nodded, wrapping her shawl more tightly around herself. “You have your title, Lord Grace. You have your estate and your ward and your legacy and you, above all else, are perfectly suited for all of it. There is no point in us continuing to pretend that it could ever be any different. You have your responsibilities… And I would never deign to think I could compete with them.”

Every movement that she made was closing herself off more and more. She’d added space between them, wrapped her arms defensively, even shifted her gaze away from him. Piper was slipping further from his reach with every second and the fear that bubbled in his chest was exigent. 

“Piper, wait,” Jason blurted out, stepping forward again. His hands rested on her shoulders before sliding gently down her bare arms to capture her hands again. “I will not allow my ardor for what is deemed proper to come between us any longer. I have not paid mind to your wise counsel this Season and we have all suffered for it. Annabeth’s path has been cleared— why not ours?”

“You know as well as I—”

“Marry me, Pippa.”

Piper’s eyes widened. Her face was wiped of any of the fury that had existed in the moments before and she looked entirely disarmed as she gaped at his request. “I—” she shook her head. “I cannot. I… I am titleless—”

“Then you will take mine.”

“You will be ruined—”

“I will be ruined without you.” Jason pulled her forward as a soft gasp escaped her lips, cupping her cheek lightly. “You are right; Annabeth was right. I have been a fool. I do not need to marry for title nor for money. I have been granted the privilege of being allowed to choose a wife that I care for.” The realization seemed to settle over her a bit more definitively now, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks glowing with warmth. “And there is not one and so I ask you again: Philippa, won’t you marry me?”

“I—” Piper blinked, her words still escaping her. She finally managed to shake the shock, nodding adamantly. “Yes, of course I will marry you.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

Jason exhaled in relief as he swept Piper into his arms, lifting her from the ground and spinning her once before depositing her feet flat on the floor again. He kept her close, their foreheads pressed together as they seemed to take in the moment. “That is… wonderful news, Miss McLean.” 

She breathed a laugh, reaching to hold his face in her hands as she smiled. “I suppose that we should go and tell Annabeth, shouldn’t we?”

“Can’t I hold you just a moment longer?” 

Piper smiled, and Jason felt her begin to relax in his arms. “Take all the time you need, Lord Grace.”

-

By the time they had finally made it downstairs, any tension that had existed in the house seemed to have evaporated like morning dew. Piper slipped her arm through Jason’s as they made their way excitedly up the corridor toward the library, talking in hushed tones as they went. There was a fleeting thought in the back of his mind that he was not entirely sure what they should expect to find when they entered the library, but he quieted the anxieties by reminding himself that Annabeth was capable of taking care of herself.

The door was, surprisingly, ajar as they approached, though there was no sound of conversation coming from within the room. Jason gave Piper a perplexed look as he pushed the door open and they stepped into the empty library. “You said they were in the library, yes?”

“That’s right,” Piper confirmed. “Perhaps they’ve moved out to the drawing room now that it is morning.”

A burnt out candle holder on an end table caught Jason’s eye and he stepped toward it. He was only a few steps away when he spotted the folded paper on the seat of the chaise. “Pippa, look at this,” Jason said, lifting the note. His name was on the outside in Annabeth’s classic swooping penmanship and he unfolded it carefully as Piper moved to look over his shoulder.

My dearest Jason,

When you arrived in Pallas three years ago, I worried that my future had been sealed. You have spent so much of the time since that day simply serving as a reminder to me that some unexpected changes can bring about great blessings. We have grown together in so many ways and I owe so much of who I am to your example. You, for all of your bullishness and pride, are one of the kindest and most noble men that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Twists of fate brought us together, but the bond that we forged was of our own devising and for that I could not be more grateful.

You have done many great things for me in these past years, but the greatest of all was disguised in your insistence that I participate in the events of this Season. I know that I have not made things simple for you — nor have you made things easy for me — but I hope that you know I have understood what you have tried to impress upon me. It is your example of dignity and honesty that has given me the courage to do what I am about to do.

By the time you read this, Jackson and I will be far from Pallas. We wish to be married and we do not wish to wait a moment longer. We will return to Berkeley Place in two weeks time, after we have had a holiday to ourselves on the coast. If you find that you must be angry with me, you will have your chance to scold me then. 

With all my love,
Annabeth

P.S. - You should not rest until you have healed the divide with Philippa. She is a better woman than you could ever hope for. And she loves you— do not squander it. 

“I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me.”

― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

The Duchess of Argos

Nearly five years had passed since they’d first returned to Argos as newlyweds, but the salty air still felt new to her each morning. When she’d first settled into the estate, Annabeth had wondered how she would ever grow used to the life that she’d found herself a part of and though it had taken time, she’d carved out a place for herself in this province. Their life here on the coast was a peaceful one filled with joy and laughter and all of the things that she herself had gone without as a child. It was refreshing to see that her children had not suffered the same fate. 

“Your Grace?” the maid asked sweetly, causing Annabeth to look away from the window. “Your guests are arriving.”

“Thank you, Juniper,” Annabeth smiled. “Is the terrace prepared?”

“Yes, madame,” she nodded. “His Grace is already downstairs waiting for you.”

“Very good. I will join him shortly.”

Juniper gave her mistress another nod and a shallow bow before she collected the remnants of the tea service from the table and turned to exit the study. 

Annabeth spared one last look out over the bluffs before she followed, making her way quietly toward down the grand staircase at the heart of the estate. She had only descended about halfway when the excited squeal met her ears. “Mumma!”

Percy lifted the little girl into his arms, shushing her gently as she continued to reach toward her mother. “Lizabeth, please,” he chuckled. “You know that I cannot blame you for having a favorite, but must you be so transparent about it?”

“She does not have a favorite,” Annabeth laughed as she reached the bottom of the stairs at last, holding open her arms to receive the wriggling child. Lizabeth nuzzled her head against Annabeth’s neck in an instant, a tiny hand resting gently against her mother’s chest. 

“Yes, this is the epitome of a child that has no preference,” he scoffed mirthfully as he leaned forward to kiss his wife’s cheek lightly before leading her into the drawing room. A moment later, another cry echoed through the parlor, just as excited as the one before. Percy knelt down to capture the other child in his arms with a broad grin on his face. “But it’s alright— isn’t it, Lena?” he asked the little girl that was giggling wildly in her father’s arms. “Because I’m your favorite.”

Lena laughed again as Percy blew a raspberry against her cheek. “Papa, no,” she protested, though her smile was still broad on her face and Annabeth’s heart swelled with the warmth of it all. 

“Fatherhood suits you, Your Grace.”

The Duke and Duchess turned toward the sound of the deep voice, their smiles only broadening at the sight of Lord and Lady Beckendorf coming up the hallway arm in arm. At the sight, both of the girls became restless as they attempted to escape their parents’ arms. Percy and Annabeth set them gently onto the floor, watching as they hurried toward their guests. 

Silena knelt onto the floor without a care for her gown as she waved them forward. “They’ve grown so much since we saw you last,” Silena cried, pulling the twins into her arms and giving them a tight squeeze. “They’re just beautiful, Annabeth. You’ve done a marvelous job.”

“I beg your pardon,” Percy objected. “I helped.”

“Thankfully, neither of your girls seem to have inherited much more than your eyes, Jackson,” Charles grinned, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “It is a blessing that they favor their fair mother.”

“I have to agree,” Percy laughed as he looked back at the girls again. “Where is your boy?” 

“Charlie is in the garden,” Silena answered as she rose to her feet. “Would it be alright if I took the girls to go and visit?”

“Of course. In fact, I’ll join you,” Annabeth offered, resting her hand on Percy’s arm briefly as she passed. The men bid them farewell as they retired to the drawing room and the women led the children out to the courtyard. The moment that they reached the terrace doors, Annabeth could hear the laughter coming from the gardens and looked out to see the young boy with dark, tight curls bouncing as he chased after a dragonfly.

The grounds were expansive but modest, consisting mostly of open fields of heather that stretched between the edge of the garden and the shoreline. From their spot on the sunny terrace, the sound of the distant waves was just barely audible, and the air was perfumed with a divine fragrance of the seabreeze that whipped through the heather. It was a tranquil scene, one that Annabeth never tired of.

“Charlie, come and say hello,” Silena called out as the twins ran forward to meet the boy. The three of them took off running together as she and Annabeth settled onto the bench. “It is so good to see how they get on. I only wish that they had more time together.”

“We have been trying to coerce you into leaving Pallas for some time now,” Annabeth reminded her. “There’s a fine home not far from here that’s just come available, in fact.”

“Oh, you know that Charles will never leave his family home,” she laughed. “I cannot say that I blame him. There is much history there; it would be heartbreaking to leave it behind— though I would like to be closer than a day’s ride to our dearest friends.”

“We have discussed acquiring a space in Pallas,” Annabeth mused, watching the children race through the raised beds. “Now that the girls are old enough to travel, we wouldn’t mind dividing our time a bit. It has been hard, raising the girls away from their only family.”

“We would certainly love that,” Silena beamed. “And I am sure that Jason would be thrilled at that news.”

“What news?” The women turned toward the voice, rising to their feet excitedly as they hurried toward the newcomer. Piper was not interested in the fuss, sighing as she swatted them away playfully. “Yes, alright, that’s enough. You act as though I have not seen you in ages.”

“Only it has been ages,” Annabeth grinned, clinging tight to Piper’s hand. “Look at you!”

“Yes, I know— I am the size of a prized sow,” she groaned, shuffling past her friends as she settled herself carefully into the lounge chair adjacent to the bench. “I am absolutely miserable, if either of you care to hear it.”

Annabeth laughed. “You are nearly through the easy part,” she smiled. “It is the labor that is truly miserable, Lady Grace.”

“You are ever encouraging, Anna Elizabeth,” Piper sighed, resting her hands on her belly as she looked out at the courtyard. “Will my beloved girls not even come and greet me? What hellacious children you are raising.”

“Oh hush,” Silena scolded as she settled back into her spot on the bench and Annabeth followed close behind. “The children are playing. They will be overjoyed to see you and Jason both.”

“Yes, where is Jason?” Annabeth chimed in. 

“He’s going over the appraisal for Minerva Hall with your husband,” Piper explained. “I am quite glad to hear you are thinking of purchasing it, though I must warn you that the house is in dire need of restoration. It has sat empty for too long and fallen into disrepair.”

“Yes, that is why we are interested in the property in the first place,” she laughed. “We have been looking for just the right place— I have longed for a project now that the renovations of the estate here are completed.”

“You get that from your mother,” Piper sighed, resting her head back against the chair. “Never content; ceaselessly working.”

“I think it’s marvelous,” Silena beamed. “We should celebrate the holidays there next year.” 

“That is a wonderful idea, Silena,” Annabeth agreed. “We’ll have Piper and Jason’s little one with us then as well.”

“I am still not convinced that there are not at least three,” Piper groaned. “It certainly kicks enough for three. Annabeth, when did you know that you were carrying two?”

Annabeth tried to hide her smirk. “When the midwife called out for another blanket.”

“Surely, you are joking.”

“If only. Lizabeth was such a tiny little thing; she must’ve been hiding behind Lena the entire term,” she laughed. “Percy and I were surprised at the time but it is not too shocking in hindsight— my brothers were twins, you remember.”

“Yes, Matthew and Robert,” Piper nodded. “Handsome boys.” 

“They truly were,” Silena agreed. “Do you think you are quite through, then?”

“Well, the girls are three now, and I should think that Percy will be wanting a boy soon,” Annabeth said thoughtfully as she looked out toward her two golden-haired girls. “I would like to be able to give him that.”

“If this child is not a boy, Jason will simply have to find himself a new wife,” Piper announced. “I will not be enduring this torture again, to be sure.” 

Their laughter filtered out over the grounds, joining in with the joyous cries of the children playing in the garden and the late morning melted easily into early afternoon as the women conversed and enjoyed one another’s company. An hour or two later, when the children had tired of their games and been taken up for an afternoon nap, the three couples all gathered on the terrace together once more.

“What do you say, Jackson?” Jason asked as they sipped their lemonade and enjoyed the warm spring sunshine. “The state of Minerva Hall is rather questionable but—”

“I should think that my wife would be quite pleased with that assessment,” Percy laughed. “If we decide to move on the deal, we may take up residence at Berkeley Place for the fall so that she can begin her work.”

“To be sure?” Piper asked excitedly. “That would be wonderful, Percy. We would love to have you.”

“What will you do to the place, Annabeth?” Charles asked thoughtfully. “It is a rather small residence.”

“We only wish to have a place in Pallas that we may visit from time to time so that we can be nearer to our family,” she said, making sure that her soft gaze landed on each of them. “It will be good for the girls to spend some time on the ton, I think. It was good for me, anyway.” 

Jason all but gawked. “Is that the story that we are telling now?”

Annabeth sighed, raising a hand in amused exasperation. “Jason, don’t start—”

“You quarreled with me from the first moment I proposed that you debut on the ton, Anna Elizabeth,” Jason shook his head. “I will not stand by and allow you to claim any different.”

“Well, it worked it out in the end, did it not?” she asked, settling shyly against her husband’s side as he laughed to himself. “Or have you forgotten whose dukedom you are visiting, Lord Grace?”

“Oh, how I can perfectly remember the gossip the morning you ran away,” Silena said with a smile, practically giddy at the memory. “We hadn’t had a proper elopement in Pallas in nearly a decade. It was the closest thing to a scandal that transpired your entire Season.”

“Well, we all knew from the moment he arrived that Jackson was only going to cause trouble,” Jason admitted. 

“I’ll remind you, Lord Grace, that it was your ward’s idea to abscond in the night,” Percy said, not taking his eyes off of his wife. “But I was more than happy to oblige. I have never been very good at denying Annabeth of anything that she desires.”

“I see you two are no less disgusting than at our last visit,” Piper added, rubbing a small circle over her stomach absentmindedly. “You would think some of the charm would have worn off by now.”

“I don’t believe that is fair at all, Philippa,” Silena laughed. “Are you suggesting that you feel less charmed by Jason now than five years ago?”

“Presently? The man is a plague on my existence,” she said teasingly. Jason only laughed to himself as he took another sip of lemonade. “Ask me again when enough time has passed that I’ve forgiven him for putting me through the pain of child bearing.”

And so they were, the six of them, all gathered together as their chosen family. Annabeth recalled looking out over the grounds that evening with her heart so full of love that she feared it might burst if she thought on her blessings for even a moment longer. Her life had been filled with many trials and sufferings, and her upbringing had been anything but idyllic, and yet she could not have been more grateful for every moment that had led her to this place. 

Their friends, their children, their growing clan that they had claimed for themselves were more of a family than anything she had ever known as a child and she was at peace with knowing that much. As she thought back over the last five years and all that had transpired, she could scarcely even remember the tentativeness that she’d felt as she’d headed into her first Season and yet she knew that it was that same stubbornness (a trait she’d already spotted in her own girls) that had ultimately brought her so much joy.

Annabeth found herself considering this as she readied herself for bed that evening, her mind far off as she pulled the pins from her hair. She was so transfixed that she startled at the gentle touch on her shoulder. 

“I did not mean to frighten you, my love,” he said quietly, pressing his lips lightly to the top of her head before he continued past her dressing table and moved toward the bed. “I believe that we should move forward with Minerva Hall. It will be a good holiday home for us, and it will allow us to keep residence in the ton when the girls are old enough to debut.”

Annabeth found herself thinking fondly on the idea of her own girls entering the Season, if for no other reason than the knowledge that they would never feel the pressures that she herself had faced. No, her daughters would be free to choose their suitors for themselves and all in their own time. And when all was said and done, if they were lucky, they would have found a love as grand as the one that she had found. It was a warm thought.

“I think that sounds wonderful, Percy,” she agreed as she rose from the seat and moved across the room. Annabeth doused the lamp before she climbed into bed, settling against his side. “We are overdue for a visit anyway.”

Annabeth nestled herself into the spot she’d long since claimed as her own, his arm draping over her easily. The silence was pensive and Annabeth found herself staring up at the olive branches painted onto the ceiling of their chamber, a piece of Pallas that she had brought to Argos. 

As she lay there, she couldn’t help but think that it felt a bit odd to be living a life that she never thought possible and somehow feeling overwhelmed by the joy of it all. In her childhood ministrations, she had never once considered that she might be happy. In fact, she had always thought that when she had done what she was born to do and had given a man a few children to call his own, she would likely feel spent and worn. But it was quite the opposite now.

“Is everything alright, Annabeth?” he asked quietly, his fingers trailing lightly over her arm. “You seem quiet.”

Annabeth considered the question. Each morning, she awoke with a smile on her face, eager to greet the day with her two darling girls clinging tight to her skirt and a doting husband that she could not possibly adore more than she already did, and yet, each day that love seemed to grow anyway. So many nights of her youth, Annabeth had stared up at the mural of her childhood room and wished for the very things that she had now. 

Not for the lavish lifestyle her station afforded her, but for the community that they had created out of such desolate loss. It was the life that they had built for themselves, full of goodness despite the many treacheries that had threatened them time and time again. And it would stand, she knew, because of those pillars that they had chosen. 

Because in the end, it is the family that one chooses that will be the cornerstone forevermore— for it is there that all hope begins, and it is there that all love lives. 

She smiled to herself, relaxing into his side. “Everything is perfect.”