Chapter Text
Prelude
Reyna looked at her forearm. "Of course. It seems so long ago. I suppose you wouldn't recall me even if you had your memory. I was just a little girl—one attendant among so many at the spa. But you spoke with my sister, just before you and that other one, Annabeth, destroyed our home."
"Annabeth?" Percy asked, the name echoing faintly in the recesses of his muddled memory. It stirred something familiar, just out of reach—like a word balanced on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't place it. A relative, perhaps? A close friend? A girlfriend?
Reyna raised her eyebrow, like she was studying him. Her knife danced between her fingers. "Yes, I was the attendant that had helped her with her hair. She ended up being the one who had saved you."
Percy tried to remember. He really did. For some reason, this Annabeth individual and he had visited a spa and decided to destroy it. He couldn't imagine why. Maybe they hadn't liked the deep-tissue massage? Maybe they'd gotten bad manicures? And what did she mean by "saved you?"
"It's a blank," he said. "Since your dogs aren't attacking me, I hope you'll believe me. I'm telling the truth."
Reyna tapped the silver ring. "I believe you're sincere," she said. "But not everyone at camp does. Octavian thinks you're a spy. He thinks you were sent here by Gaea to find our weaknesses and distract us. He believes the old legends about the Greeks."
"Old legends?"
"Some believe Greek demigods still exist," she said, "heroes who follow the older forms of the gods. There are legends of battles between Roman and Greek heroes in relatively modern times—the American Civil War, for instance. I have no proof of this, and if our Lares know anything, they refuse to say. But Octavian believes the Greeks are still around, plotting our downfall, working with the forces of Gaea. He thinks you are one of them."
"Is that what you believe?" "I believe you came from somewhere," she said. "You're important, and dangerous. Two gods have taken a special interest in you since you arrived, so I can't believe you'd work against Olympus…or Rome." She shrugged. "Of course, I could be wrong. Perhaps the gods sent you here to test my judgment. But I think…I think you were sent here to make up for the loss of Jason."
Jason … Percy couldn't go very far in this camp without hearing that name.
"The way you talk about him…" Percy said. "Were you two a couple?"
"We might have been," Reyna said, "given time. Praetors work closely together. It's common for them to become romantically involved. But Jason was only praetor for a few months before he disappeared. Ever since then, Octavian has been pestering me, agitating for new elections. I've resisted. I need a partner in power—but I'd prefer someone like Jason. A warrior, not a schemer."
She waited. Percy realized she was sending him a silent invitation.
His throat went dry. "Oh … you mean … oh."
"I believe the gods sent you to help me," Reyna said. "I don't understand where you come from, any more than I understood it four years ago. But I think your arrival is some sort of repayment. You destroyed my home once. Now you've been sent to save my home. I don't hold a grudge against you for the past, Percy. My sister hates you still, it's true, but Fate brought me here to Camp Jupiter. I've done well. All I ask is that you work with me for the future. I intend to save this camp."
The metal dogs glared at him, their mouths frozen in snarl mode. Percy found Reyna's eyes a lot harder to meet.
"Look, I'll help," he promised. "But I'm new here. You've got a lot of good people who know this camp better than I do. If we succeed on this quest, Hazel and Frank will be heroes. You could ask one of them—"
"Please," Reyna said. "No one will follow a child of Pluto. There's something about that girl…rumors about where she came from.…No, she won't do. As for Frank Zhang, he has a good heart, but he's hopelessly naïve and inexperienced. Besides, if the others found out about his family history at this camp—"
"Family history?"
"The point is, Percy, you are the real power on this quest. You are a seasoned veteran. I've seen what you can do. A son of Neptune wouldn't be my first choice, but if you return successfully from this mission, the legion might be saved. The praetorship will be yours for the taking. Together, you and I could expand the power of Rome. We could raise an army and find the Doors of Death, crush Gaea's forces once and for all. You would find me a very helpful…friend."
She said that word like it could have several meanings, and he could pick which one. Percy's feet started tapping on the floor, anxious to run. "Reyna…I'm honored, and all. Seriously. But I don't even know who I am right now. I am trying to recollect my own past life. I don't want power, or a praetorship. I understand your argument, but I am in no position to lead."
Percy was afraid he'd make her mad. Instead she just raised her eyebrows. "A man who turns down power?" she said. "That's not very Roman of you."
Chapter I:
Under Your Skin
Despicable, annoying, obnoxious, contentious, irritating piece of shit.
That was the only thought on Reyna's mind as the tan leather of the training dummy split apart as the Imperial Gold gladius tore through it, straw bursting outward in a violent spray. With another single, powerful strike, the dummy's head was cleanly severed, hitting the floor and bouncing a few times before thudding against the wall.
The female praetor stood panting, sweat streaming down her tanned face as she bent forward with her hands on her knees, eyes closed, while she rotated her neck to stretch it. Her purple tank top clung to her body from the sweat, soaked through from the brutal workout she had driven herself through in search of relief.
Around her lay nearly thirty broken training dummies, each destroyed as completely as the one she had just decimated. She was gripping her weapon so tightly that her knuckles went pale. Her teeth were clenched tight, as if she were holding back multiple surges of frustration.
A nearby bucket of water caught her reflection. In the dim glow of the training grounds, sweat glistened across her forehead, while her usually unreadable obsidian eyes burned with anger and irritation. Every thought in her mind was consumed by the events of the past week.
It had been seven days since Percy Jackson returned from his quest and was raised on a shield as the new male praetor. With Jason Grace still missing, Reyna had convinced herself it was the best outcome Camp Jupiter could have hoped for.
From the moment they first spoke, Percy had embodied everything the camp needed in a praetor — a powerful leader whose strength was matched by his willingness to put himself in harm's way for others. Despite having no memory of his past and struggling to reclaim it, he never hesitated to fight for people who doubted him. He had saved Camp Jupiter from destruction, accomplished the impossible by recovering the Twelfth Legion's Eagle, and even persuaded her older sister, Hylla, to join the camp's defense despite the resentment she still carried over the fall of their former home.
In the short time they had known each other, his loyalty to his friends had never once come into question. Reyna believed he could stand beside her, help shoulder the weight of leadership, and perhaps even become the bridge between Greeks and Romans that the prophecy seemed to demand.
And, if she was being honest with herself, she had hoped for something more.
Percy reminded her so much of Jason.
The courage, the selflessness, the instinctive need to protect others.
He carried many of the same qualities that had made her fall for Jason all those years ago.
Of course, he could be unserious and uncertain at times, but his many redeeming qualities far outweighed those flaws, making him the best choice for the role in the dire times. She felt that they had a mutual understanding between them, forged by their similar life as warriors rather than politicians.
To her, anyone was better than Octavion.
Boy, was she wrong.
Over the past week, daily Senate meetings had been convened to coordinate the camp's response to the recent attacks and prepare for the arrival of the Greeks from Percy's former home. Every meeting, however, seemed destined to end the same way: with a shouting match between her and Percy.
It didn't matter what was being discussed. Whether it was deciding what food to serve the Greeks upon their supposed arrival or planning defensive positions against a potential attack, Percy always found a way to challenge her proposals. When Jason had been praetor, disagreements were usually cordial. They worked together to find solutions that benefited the camp as a whole. Years of shared history had built a foundation of trust between them, and Jason always made an effort to understand both sides of an argument before reaching a compromise.
Percy was different.
Debates with him were as wild and unpredictable as the sea he commanded. At times, it seemed as though he argued with her simply for the fun of it, as if her frustration was the true prize. Many of her serious proposal she presented was met with a sarcastic remark, a teasing jab, or some ridiculous joke that only seemed to amuse everyone except her.
What made it even worse was that the camp loved him for it.
After saving Camp Jupiter from destruction and recovering the legion's eagle, Percy had earned the respect of nearly everyone in New Rome. The same senators whose approval Reyna had spent years fighting to gain now found themselves drawn to his effortless charisma. More often than not, they sided with him before she could even finish making her case.
With each passing meeting, the arguments grew hotter.
Discussions devolved into storms of raised voices, sharp retorts, and increasingly personal insults hurled across the Senate floor.
No one on the council—not even Octavian—dared intervene. The senators simply sat back and watched as the two praetors exchanged relentless volleys of verbal attacks.
And with every confrontation, Reyna felt her composure slipping further away.
More than once, she found herself storming from the forum with her face burning in frustration. She hated the infuriating grin that spread across Percy's face whenever he landed a particularly effective joke. She hated how easily he could make the forum erupt into laughter at her expense.
Most of all, she hated how each clever remark chipped away at the stern, commanding image she had spent years cultivating as one of Camp Jupiter's leaders.
Reyna screamed in frustration, driving her fist into the face of a fresh training dummy and imagining it was the smug grin of the dark-haired boy currently occupying far too many of her thoughts. Her punch tore straight through the fabric, bursting out the back of its head. The sting of straw slicing across her knuckles barely registered, drowned out by the anger burning inside her.
After a moment to catch her breath, she ripped her fist free and shoved the battered dummy to the ground, where it joined the growing pile of casualties she had already destroyed.
"Don't you think those training dummies have suffered enough, princess?" a voice teased from behind her from the door of the training room.
Before even thinking, she grabbed one of the decapitated heads of the dummies, turned around, and hurled it aggressively in the direction of the voice. The figure merely blocked it with the side of his fist, laughing as he brushed off the straw that had landed on his shirt.
Oh great, it is my favorite person, she thought.
"What the hell are you doing here, Percy?" Reyna snapped, her anger flaring as the son of Neptune strode into the training room.
He was lucky she had not hurled the Imperial Gold knife from her back sheath at him, an option she had strongly considered.
"You're speaking as if the training room isn't a public place," the son of Neptune chided, strolling over to the weapons rack and pretending to examine the neatly lined spears. "What if I just came here to get some late-night training?"
From the shadows, she could see his infuriating smirk and the mischievous glint in his sea-green eyes, the look of someone who had just come over to torment her further.
"Like hell you're here to train," Reyna muttered under her breath as she loaded another dummy. More like here to drive her crazy.
From the corner of her eye, she caught Percy watching her silently, quietly studying her as if calculating how to make her even more furious.
Just ignore him, Reyna, you are not in a Senate meeting right now, Reyna thought as she readied her stance, gripping her gladius with both hands as she prepared to strike again.
With a sharp breath, she lunged forward, aiming to pierce the figure in a single, swift motion.
Her attack, however, was halted when a hand clamped around her wrist, freezing her in place.
She looked up, meeting the sea-green eyes of Percy, who held her arm firmly. She could see them looking at her whole figure, like they were trying to analyze her.
"You've got a lot of straw in your hair, Rey-Rey," he said with a snicker, plucking the remnants of the training dummies from her glossy black braid.
Immediately, Reyna felt blood rush to her head as her irritation grew.
"Get off me!" she snapped, slapping his wrist away. Turning sharply, she stomped away, rubbing her forehead as a headache began to form. "And stop with the fucking nicknames. Di immortales… you are insufferable."
Percy held up both hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I thought Rey-Rey was cute… but apparently not. 'Princess' still works, though. Actually, 'Your Majesty' might be even more fitting."
Reyna turned on him, eyes blazing daggers at the ever-smirking troublemaker.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Percy crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby table, relishing at the anger radiating from the furious female before him.
"It means we all have to listen to you and obey your every command. Like a queen, and we are your loyal subjects. Hence… 'Your Majesty.' God forbid anyone dares to disagree with you."
Reyna stalked toward Percy, squaring up to the boy who still stood a good four inches taller than her.
"Maybe if you spent less time making snarky comments during Senate meetings and actually listened, we'd get something accomplished," she snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest.
She refused to let him, of all people, talk down to her.
Percy rolled his eyes, completely unbothered by her words.
"Please. You expect everyone in that room to sit down, shut up, and agree with you. The second someone challenges your position, you brush them aside."
His gaze hardened. "You felt threatened by Octavian, and now you feel threatened by me. I've told you before—I never wanted the praetorship. But there's no way I'm letting you have complete control over decisions that affect my friends, my family, and everyone else in this camp."
Reyna felt her temper flare instantly, as if he'd struck a nerve he had no business touching.
"I am not threatened by you, Perseus Jackson," she shot back. "Every decision I make is for the good of Rome, and I will not be lectured by the likes of you."
With that, she shoved him backward into the table.
A low growl rumbled from Percy. He clearly did not appreciate her using his full name.
"Don't push me," he warned, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. The playful glint in his sea-green eyes vanished, replaced by something much sharper.
Reyna only stepped closer.
"And what exactly are you going to do about it, Jackson?" she challenged before shoving him again.
Percy caught himself against the table and instinctively reached for the pocket where the pen that housed Riptide usually rested. His expression hardened in an instant, taking on the look of a predator ready to strike.
Reyna immediately took a step back. One hand hovered near the hilt of her gladius, prepared to draw at a moment's notice.
For several tense seconds, neither moved.
They simply stared at one another, weighing distances, reading posture, searching for the slightest hint of what the other would do next.
"I'm not going to fight you, Reyna," Percy said at last, his voice low and serious. "I don't want to hurt you."
Reyna scoffed.
"Hurt me? I'm not the one you should be worried about."
"Fine, then."
Percy brushed off his purple T-shirt and straightened.
"We'll settle this with a friendly sparring match."
He pulled the pen from his pocket, and Reyna's grip tightened around her gladius.
"We could both use the practice," he continued. "Might even help us sleep tonight. No serious injuries."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"If I win, I get to say what I want and call you whatever I want. And if you win—"
"You do whatever I want. No questions asked," Reyna interrupted.
Percy paused.
She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he considered the offer. A moment later, he let out an amused chuckle and nodded.
"Deal. I'll do whatever you want. No questions asked."
He extended his hand.
Reyna slapped it away without hesitation and turned toward the armor stand, unable to suppress a small laugh.
She was going to enjoy this.