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Chapter Text

"The letter's here!" Hazel announced as she banged open the rickety door leading to their small kitchen.

Nico removed his dirty white apron and hung it on the back of a wooden chair. His foster sister opened an envelope and laid out an expensive-looking piece of paper on their wooden table. It smelled nice, like flowers in a garden during spring. They bent over the table together to read it.

'Our beloved prince, Jason Grace, is coming of age this month. As he ventures into the next stage of his life, the Royal Family hopes he will move forward with a partner, a true Child of Olympus. To everyone eligible, of age, and interested in becoming the partner of the next king, please fill out the enclosed form and return it to your local Services Office. One person will be chosen to represent each province.

Participants will be housed at the magnificent Palace of Olympus for the duration of their stay. The families of each participant will be generously compensated for their service to the royal family.'

"Alright, get to it," Hazel said, handing him a pen. 

"I don't know," Nico hesitated. "Maybe you should go, after all." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well, the prince isn't gay, is he?" He sighed. "And what if he's not there?" 

"Number 1, the Selection is open to everyone," She sat down, crossing her arms stubbornly. "Number 2, you and I both know that he's at the Palace."

Sometimes, Nico didn't know whether to love or hate Hazel. This was one of those times. They weren't related by blood, but after his father left them and his mother died, Hazel's mother had taken him in. Mrs Levesque had died a few years back, and now it was just the two of them. 

"You have a better chance of being chosen," He protested weakly. "It would be better if you went." 

"You don't know that."

Nico thought that yes, he did know that. Each household could send only one representative, though, and Hazel wouldn't take that away from him. It was his only chance to meet him, after all. 

Him happened to be the hero, Perseus Jackson. He was born a Seven, a fisherman, in the seaside village of Phthia, located beside the mining province of Opus. One day, some rebels attacked Opus to get to its mineral reserves. Percy, as his friends called him, had come running from Phthia and had fought them all off, single-handedly, with nothing but a fishing rod.

It was not just heroic, like the papers said, it was godly.

Nico had been there, was actually one of the children cowering behind the teenaged Percy. After the rebels had been defeated, the province sang Percy's praises like nobody's business. But not once did it get to his head. He was still the same easy-going, almost lazy fisherman.

For a few days after the attack, he hung around Opus, patrolling the province and checking up on everyone.

Needless to say, Nico developed a bit of a crush on the hero. Okay, so maybe it was a massive crush. Or a crush of epic proportions.

Unfortunately for him, word had reached the Ones and by the end of the month, Percy had been whisked off to the life of a Two, a soldier, in the Palace. At first, it wasn't so bad, because Percy could still come home every four months. But, years later, the war with the rebels became worse and now Nico hadn't seen his hero for a year and a half. He was going to go crazy!

"You want this and I don't," Hazel looked up at him, as she started scribbling his name on the form. "It's not that complicated."

It wasn't that simple either, Nico wanted to argue. He didn't. Instead he sat down beside Hazel and watched as she answered the form in her elegant, curving script.

"Now, we need to make sure they'll pick you."

"We can't lie on the form," Nico groaned. He hadn't thought about that: the possibility of not being chosen. He was so sure that if he'd put his name on that paper, he'd be immediately whisked away to meet Percy. He put his head in his hands.

"We're not going to lie, we're just going to stretch the truth a little bit," She laughed.  "Besides, look at you! You're so beautiful you could be a Five!"

Nico almost flinched. His mother was a Five, an opera singer whose career was taking off. But then she'd met his father, who was a One. They fell in love, she became pregnant, and he disappeared, just like that. Out of sadness and humiliation, she hid herself away in Opus, where she gave birth to him and where she would eventually die, unknown and forgotten.

"You sing well enough. You can play some instruments. But you can't act," Hazel muttered, as if reminding herself. "You can dance, right?"

"A little," That was a lie and Hazel knew it. Nico could probably do the whole Swan Lake in his sleep.

"You're multilingual, I'll put that in here. They could use you for internal relations and foreign diplomacy and all that." She smiled in triumph. Then her eyes met his in a questioning gaze. "English, Tartarian, Greek. What else?"

"Latin, Amazonian, and Portuguese." He finished, a little proud of himself.

"You can sketch, draw, and paint. And you're finished with your education, too!" Hazel whistled. "Maybe we should also mention your unhealthy obsession with occult stuff. And comic books."

Nico huffed indignantly.

"What? We need to give the other participants a chance, too!"

After filling out the form, Hazel passed it to Nico and he signed the blank space at the bottom, feeling like he was signing a death contract. Smiling, she folded the form and returned it to the envelope. Then, she stood up and held out a hand to him.

"Come on, now. Let's get this letter to the Office."

He raised an eyebrow, contemplating asking Hazel to go by herself. She raised her eyebrows as well, and it was a look that said she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. He looked down at himself. For once, he was wearing normal clothes - an olive-green shirt and black pants - instead of his usual, drab work clothes. He shrugged, and followed Hazel out the house, which they didn't lock. They had nothing of value, anyway. Besides, almost everyone here knew everyone else, and the people of Opus were all very kind.

They turned a corner and walked two blocks to get to the Office. But before they could get to the entrance, they saw the line of people, snaking around the building and spilling into the next street. Hazel approached the last woman in line, who was holding the hand of a girl around his age. A mother-daughter pair, Nico guessed. They both smelled like mints, cool and refreshing.

"Is this the line for the Office?" Hazel asked.

The woman looked them both over, the question clear in her eyes. She was wondering which one of them was going to be competing against her daughter. She nodded.

Hazel said her thanks, and the mother returned her attention to her daughter.

"Most of the participants are girls," Nico whispered nervously. "And look at them!"

"You're right," She whispered back, her eyes raking the crowd. "They're dressed up a little too nicely..."

The mother turned back to them.

"Didn't you know?" She asked, waving a hand. "The people at the Office are going to take the applicant's picture to send with the form."

"Oh," Hazel swallowed. "We didn't... know."

The mother made a face, and Nico knew she was debating whether or not to help them any further. Finally, she sighed, digging into her hand bag. She handed Hazel a small,  black cylinder. Hazel gasped. Lipstick.

"Oh no, we couldn't possibly!" She fretted. It was understandable, make-up was expensive in their parts. It was something meant for only the higher numbers.

"Take it," The mother softly insisted. "You siblings are orphans, aren't you?"

Hazel nodded.

"My name is Mintha," She pressed a hand to her chest, then pointed to her daughter. "This is my daughter Makaria."

"I'm Hazel."

She looked expectantly at him.

"I'm Nico," He conceded. He didn't like people in general, particularly strangers, but Mintha had been nothing but kind.

"My house is that green one over there, with the herb garden," She raised a finger and pointed to beyond the street. "If you children ever need anything, anything at all, you can come to me."

"Thank you," Hazel whispered, almost breathlessly.

Mintha smiled kindly, before turning her back.

When Hazel looked back at him, her eyes were a little wet. But her fingers were steady as she uncapped the lid.

"You're naturally pale, so you need a little color," She pressed the pad of her pinky finger into the rouge and swiped it across Nico's lips. Then, with her thumb this time, she did the same to his cheeks. "Better."

Nico endured the ministrations, but not silently. He grumbled and scowled as his foster sister rubbed circles into his cheeks. Before long, it was their turn and Nico was sitting on a chair placed in front of what was probably the only camera in the entire province.

"Smile," The man behind the camera said.

Nico thought of Percy and his sea-green eyes, the sound of his easy laughter and the way he swam. Nico thought of seeing him again.

He smiled.

Chapter Text

After a week, the big day of the announcement came. They didn't have a television (almost nobody in the province did) so instead they walked to the Office, which they knew would be broadcasting the public access channel. They were correct. 

Outside the building, Office workers had already set up a projector, turned towards one of the office's large, wide white walls. People were sitting down on the pavement, in front of the wall. Hazel dragged him to an empty spot in the middle, between a large family in dirty coveralls and two women, and they sat down, cross-legged.

Nico, not being one for these kinds of things, didn't know what to expect. He waited, blindly, not knowing what it was they were waiting for. Sure, he had seen a television and a projector in school before, but he had been merely a child during the time of the previous Selection, and they couldn't afford to waste money on magazines for him to read about it.

"What's going on?" He finally asked, chest heavy with anxiety. "Are they just going to flash the names of the Selected on the screen?"

"At 8PM, Olympus Royal Report will start," Hazel explained, patiently.

He nodded. At the very least, he knew what the Olympus Royal Report was. It was the highlight of the channel, a one-hour weekly show which featured the Royal Family, their current projects, their latest hobbies, and whatnot. Hazel had gone to watch it a couple of times, but Nico had never gone with her. He thought it was nothing more than a waste of time.

"The anthem will play. And then, the host, Hermes will introduce the Royal Family," She scoffed. "As if there is a single person out there who doesn't know what they look like!"

Nico stayed silent. He didn't know what they looked like. Maybe they had green eyes, the color of the sea.

"Hermes will talk to the king first, of course. He'll take up half the show, talking about himself," She shook her head. "I swear his ego is bigger than this country. "

Nico didn't think that was possible. The Kingdom of Olympus was a mighty big country, and pretty powerful as well. It was allies with the other superpowers, like the Empire of Amazon. Nico had read before in a book how during the 2nd World War, Olympus had led the campaign to defeat the original superpower, the Titans from the Kingdom of Othrys.

"Then, Hermes will go to the queen. She talks about nothing but her family. She says the same thing every week!" Hazel paused. "The prince goes last."

Nico held his breath.

"Unlike his parents, he isn't a self-centered, doting buffoon, you know? Lucky you," She grinned at him. "He usually talks about the state of the country. And the economy. And our standing with our allies. Before, he used to like talking about his older sister…"

"He has a sister?"

"Had," She made a face. "She died a few years back, from an illness."

Nico was spared from reacting to that by the projector screen flashing. The kingdom's anthem started playing and everyone stood up. The music lasted a couple of minutes, then everyone sat back down.

Immediately the screen shifted and now they were looking at a handsome twenty-something with curly black hair. He was wearing clothes from another era: a black cutaway coat over a white vest and black trousers. He was standing at a podium emblazoned with the kingdom's symbol, a soaring eagle with flashes of lightning behind it. Behind the person was a stage, decorated such that it looked like heaven itself: white clouds hanging from above, the background blue like the sky, and the three, large, throne-like seats gold like the sun.

"Olympian ladies and gentlemen, 'tis I, Hermes your messenger, bringing you the show of the week, the show of all shows," The man boomed from the podium. "Olympus Royal Report!"

"Hermes is so hot," Hazel made an exaggerated show of fanning herself. "But you probably don't think so, because he doesn't have green eyes."

Nico blushed and scowled.

"Now I know what you're all waiting for," Hermes left the podium and started strolling around. "Last week, the Royal Family sent out a very, very, very special letter, a letter which some of you undoubtedly filled out and sent back. Is that correct?"

Nico felt the mood changing, from anticipation to nervousness.

"And now the whole country has come to a standstill, waiting, waiting, and waiting, but before we get to that - "

The mood shifted back.

" - why don't we check in with His Majesty the King Zeus?" Hermes walked over to the largest throne, which was in the middle.

Seated there apparently was the king, a broad-shouldered man with dark hair and stormy blue eyes. He had nothing on except a loose, soft-looking cloth, draped over his shoulders, exposing his chiseled torso and strong biceps. It closed at his waist with a golden sash and fell to the floor in folds. Nico decided it was a blanket. Maybe a curtain.  Either way, it was clear the king wanted everyone to know he'd been working out.

"You're looking exceptionally good today, Your Majesty!"

"I look exceptionally good everyday!" The king answered, clapping the host on the back as they both laughed heartily.

Nico's mouth dropped open a little. Was this the man running his country?

"Take us back a little, Your Majesty. Why don't we talk about your Selection?"

"Ah, yes, my Selection, those were good days, good days," The king thoughtfully stroked his chin, his gaze dreamy. "So many beautiful men and women. How could I forget my first love, Metis, and the way she used to chide me? I remember the adorable Europa and her fondness for bulls, and, of course, the lovely Nemesis, who used to scowl at me every time we talked. And my favorite darling Ganymede with his soft, supple thighs - "

There was a cough from the right side of the throne.

Both Hermes and Zeus swallowed.

"What I'm trying to say is," Zeus cleared his throat. "The Selection is not just about the next king's partner or the next Child of Olympus. It is about love and happiness, which I fervently hope my son will be able to find."

"Wise words, my king, wise words."

"Also, none of the aforementioned Selected were as dear to me as my wife, most beautiful of all, Hera!" Zeus said this loudly, as if trying to make a point.

"Of course, of course," Hermes worriedly agreed.

The camera moved to the right, and Nico saw the queen, a woman with licorice-black hair and deep, brown eyes. She was wearing a white gown with black lace print. The queen was the very picture of elegance and grace, looking more like a painting than a person. Nico knew he wasn't the best judge of female beauty (not by a long shot), but he was certain she was beautiful indeed.

"Hermes, my boy," She cooed. "Why don't you let me talk about the Selection?"

"Absolutely, Your Majesty!"

The king opened his mouth, as if to protest, then shut it again.

"The Selection is a centuries-old tradition started by the country's forefathers," The queen began. "Its purpose is to strengthen and celebrate the bond between the country and its constituents, to help the prince meet his partner, a true Child of Olympus.

When I was chosen during the last Selection, I was ecstatic for the opportunity to bring honor to my family, because that is where it all begins, you see, the family. " She put a hand over her chest and closed her eyes. "The partner of a king may have obligations to the country, but his or her main responsibility is the family, to become the right hand of the king and to raise the princes and princesses with love and care."

Nico thought the queen wasn't so bad.

"However, the job of the king's partner first and foremost," She continued, and then she leapt up from her throne. "Is to prevent the king from running after whores and having children by them and disrespecting the whole family!!"

What?

Around him, the people had erupted into cheers and laughter and Nico sat, bewildered. Even Hazel was chuckling.

"Is this…" Nico swallowed. "Is this normal?"

"Yeah," Hazel wiped a tear from her eye. "The Royal Family is powerful and all, but most of the time, they're just a regular, dysfunctional family."

"How could anybody respect them, when they're like this?"

"They might be like this now," She looked at the screen. Nico followed her gaze and saw that the queen was trying to strangle the king, while the host did his best to keep them from each other. "But Zeus is a ruthless war general. And Hera is a cunning strategist and diplomat."

Hazel's tone was serious, but Nico found that hard to believe.

"Alright, thank you, Your Majesty, thank you," The host looked bedraggled and he hastily straightened his coat. "Now, why don't we go to the man of the hour, His Royal Highness Jason the Prince!"

Hermes walked left, to the other side of the thrones, and the camera followed his movement. It zoomed in to a boy around Nico's age, maybe a few years older. He had golden-blond hair, and his father's blue, blue eyes. His face was all lines and sharp angles, so precise he looked like a statue carved from marble. He was very handsome, in his white royal jacket and black pants with a golden belt, just like Nico had expected from a prince.

Nico wondered what brand of crazy the prince hid.

"How are you feeling, Your Royal Highness?" Hermes asked.

"I'm beyond excited, of course," The prince gave a polite smile. He didn't look 'beyond excited.' "Although I must admit the Selection feels like an… unorthodox way of meeting one's life partner."

"How does His Royal Highness want to meet his life partner, then?"

"The normal, I guess," The prince nodded once, stiffly, indicating he didn't want to talk about the topic anymore.

"I see," Hermes quickly catched on. He changed tune. "I heard the Selected have already been chosen. Has His Royal Highness seen them already?"

"I'm afraid not. "

"Well, does His Royal Highness have a preference? Blond, brunette, wide hips, quick mouth…?"

"None at all," Jason shook his head. "I'm very open-minded."

"He's very open-minded, ladies and gentlemen!" Hermes repeated, as if he were declaring the secret to life itself.

Nico rolled his eyes. Big deal.

"Now then, I've made you all wait long enough," Hermes walked back to his podium. "It is time!"

The emblem of the Selection flashed on the screen and the crowd fell utterly silent, everyone leaning forward expectantly. Even Nico held his breath.

"Presenting the Selected for the Kingdom of Olympus' 31st Selection!"

"Number one! From the province of Artemisium, Piper McLean, Five!" The screen changed to a picture of a girl with choppy, uneven brown locks and twinkling eyes.

"Number two! From the province of Doris, Leo Valdez, Four!" A boy with curly black hair, brown eyes, and a mischievous smile.

Although Nico himself had submitted an application, he was surprised a boy actually made it.

"Number three! From the province of Argos, Io, Seven!"

Nico didn't see what this Io girl looked like, because he had turned to Hazel.

"How long until our province?" He asked, impatient. Behind him, the show continued declaring the Selected.

"Number four! From the province of Athens, Annabeth Chase, Four!"  A tanned girl with intense gray eyes and curly hair the color of honey.

"It's randomized," Hazel shook her head. "I don't know."

"Number five! From the province of Amazon, Reyna Ramirez-Arellano, Two!" A girl who looked like Nico with her dark hair and dark eyes, but unlike him, her skin was dark as well.

"Number six! From the province of Ogygia, Calypso, Five!" Another girl with hair the color of caramel candy and eyes like almonds. 

Nico groaned, bracing himself for the long wait. There was going to be 50 Selected, after all.

"Number seven! From the province of Opus, Nico di Angelo, Eight!" A boy this time, with wavy black hair and pale, olive-toned skin. He was smiling softly, a shy yearning in his eyes, as if he were thinking of something far away.

And Nico realized he was looking at himself.

Chapter Text

The week that followed the Selection announcement was probably the busiest week in Nico's whole life. From sunrise to sunset they had visitors and all kinds of people came and went. There were neighbors who congratulated Nico, mothers who told him to make the province proud, and teenage girls who gave him tips on how to win the prince's heart. (As if.)

"He has a black horse named Tempest," Makaria told him one time during their daily 'Things-to-know-about-the-prince' session.

"Uh-huh," Nico muttered, distracted. When would he ever need that kind of useless information? He would rather know if Percy was part of the police patrolling the palace or a bodyguard for a member of the Royal Family.

"He doesn't like talking about his sister so don't bring that up!" The girl continued.

"He doesn't need to know all that, Makaria, darling," Mintha spoke from her seat on the couch. "The prince will adore him, I'm sure of it!"

A chorus of agreements sounded from the other women on the couch and Nico wondered when the space of their living room had become communal. He couldn't chase them away, though, because they offered Hazel something he knew she would need: companionship for when he was gone.

Once, he'd tried to hide inside the closet in his room. Hazel had found him, made some coming out jokes, and dragged him to the dining room, where their guests were trying to have lunch.

"This will be good practice for when you have to deal with the other Selected," Hazel whispered in his ear as she plopped him down on the seat between an old lady and her granddaughter.

"Oh, his skin is so smooth," The old lady cooed as she pinched his cheeks.

"And his hair is so silky!" Her granddaughter chirped as she tugged on his hair with her chubby, little hands.

Nico managed to finish his dinner without crawling under the table to hide, and Hazel patted his back approvingly as the guests finally turned to leave. As he slunk into bed that night, he thought of the other Selected and how he might actually make friends with them.

By midweek, Nico was positive the whole province already knew where they lived, when he liked to eat, and what he looked like when he was angry. Right now, though, he was facing completely different visitors: palace officials who came to prepare him for the Selection.

They came in all at once, rushing the house as if they couldn't get in fast enough, and Nico realized that it was a security measure. When he looked outside the window, there were guards setting up a perimeter a few metres from his house. He was putting on his shoes, about to walk outside to search for a familiar face (one with sea-green eyes) when he felt a tug on his arm.

"He's not there. I asked." It was Hazel and Nico wondered if she could read his mind. "These guards are all new. They were drafted last month."

He removed his shoes and hung his head, but the palace officials wouldn't even give him time to wallow in his disappointment.

"My name is Mnemosyne," One of them said as she approached him, hand extended for a shake. "This is part of procedures. We are going to go over your file."

Nico shrugged and led her to the dining room, where they sat across each other.

"Come sta?" She asked.

Nico was thrown off by the sudden change in language. He blinked twice, confused, and saw the look in her eyes harden. She opened the folder tucked under her arm. It had his name on the front, in bold letters, and he saw his application form inside. He understood. They were making sure he hadn't lied.

"Sto bene grazie, e Lei?" He answered.

"¿Cómo está por afuera?" She continued.

" Está muy despejado."

Nico thought they would have to go over his Latin, Greek, and Portuguese, too, but she smiled happily, apparently satisfied, and jotted something down on his file. Next, she quizzed him on World History and he was proud that he got every question correct. It was as if he had been alive during the 1940's! After that she had him sketch a self-portrait and he hoped he didn't come across as too vain while doing it.

"Now, then, can you perform something for me?"

He nodded, happy to be doing instead of answering. He led her to the basement, where their old piano was. He dusted it off, ran his hands over the keys, and sat on the bench. She stood to his side.

"My mother used to sing this lullaby for me," He said and he sang, softly, sweetly of the moon and the stars, his favorite Tartarian lullaby. He kept his eyes on the piano, slightly embarrassed, but he heard his voice, clear and pure as ice-melted streams. When he finished, he resisted the urge to bow, like a Five. He had seen his mother do that many times.

"That was beautiful," Mnemosyne whispered. She reached out to touch his hand. "Good luck on the Selection. I know you will make it."

And with that, she closed his folder, walked up the stairs and left.

The other officials were less pleasant, compared to her. The man in charge of taking his measurements looked utterly disgusted to be touching an Eight and Nico almost punched him in the face. Another man, this one in charge of telling him of all the Selection Rules, was so boring the only thing Nico could remember was that he couldn't leave the palace and he couldn't fight with the other Selected. He was sure there was at least 10 more rules, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

Only on the last day of the week, the day before he was to travel to the palace, did Nico have time to pack. They were allowed to bring anything they wanted to, as long as it wasn't dangerous and as long as they could carry it. Nico stuffed his clothes into a knapsack, along with a locket which had a picture of his mother. It was the only picture he had of anyone, because he and Hazel neither had a camera nor a cellphone.

"Nico," Hazel said as she walked into his room, her hands behind her back.

He turned towards her and she sat beside him, on the floor.

"How are you?" She asked and he knew there were a thousand questions hidden in that simple one.

"Excited, I guess. And very nervous," He ran a hand through his hair and dropped his head onto her shoulders. "What if he's there, but he doesn't remember me anymore? What do I do then?"

"I have something for you," She held out her hand, palm up, and Nico saw a ring, its band made of braided vines of gold studded with diamonds. "For proposal purposes."

"What?" He screeched. He just wanted to see Percy again. He wasn't even thinking of dates yet! How could Hazel already be jumping to marriage? "Where did that - why'd you think that - how could I - what?"

"Or bribery," She shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever."

"Hazel, I… I…" He flailed around, not knowing what to do with the ring, but not wanting to be ungrateful either. In the end, he stuffed it into the front pocket of his knapsack. He wondered how expensive this was and how she had the money to buy it, but didn't ask.

"Well, now that I have atoned for my sins," She laughed."I have something to confess."

"Okay?"

"Percy wasn't the only reason I wanted you to go to the Selection," She turned his face towards hers and there was sisterly affection in her eyes. "You've lived in Opus all your life, hidden away from the rest of the country by mountains, without having newspapers to read or television shows to watch. So I wanted you to go out there, see the world and meet new people. There's so much more out there than caves and rocks.

You were probably not listening, but one of the palace officials mentioned that, after the Selection, you may have a chance to relocate somewhere else and move up the numbers," She continued. "So I wanted you to know that whatever you choose, whether you win or lose, you will always be my brother and I will always be proud of you."

And Nico buried his face into her shoulder, crying tears of happiness and anxiety and longing, letting out all the feelings he'd been holding back the past week. He let Hazel hold him and she rocked him back and forth unapologetically, like a baby, as she hummed and pressed kisses to his hair. There was nothing more to say after that, that could've been said with words.

The next day, his last day in Opus, was a send-off and Nico found himself in the Province Square, on a stage overlooking a crowd chanting his name and throwing him flowers. The more prominent people of the province were giving speeches about the previous Selected from Opus, but Nico couldn't hear them. He was staring at Hazel, by the side of the stage, memorizing the shape of her face, scared of the time he was going to be away from her. She was clasping her hands together, as if in prayer, but her eyes were wide open with excitement. She was smiling from ear to ear.

"You have something to say to your people, my dear?" The old woman who was their mayor asked.

Nico nodded and the woman gestured for a mic.

"Everyone, thank you all for your support," He started, palms already beginning to sweat. He imagined Hazel's voice in his ear: 'This will be good practice for when you have to deal with the Selection Challenges.' He steeled himself. "I will be leaving now. In my place, please take care of my sister. She's the best sister anyone could ask for."

He lowered the mic and saw Hazel throw her hands up, laughing. The people who knew her smiled at him, then her, clapping harder. He saw Mintha and Makaria at her side, nodding to him. He knew she would be cared for. Now, he could finally leave without any worries.

Chapter Text

After the send-off, he was led to a sleek, black car (he'd never ridden a car before!) and driven to a port in Phthia, where a ship would be sailing to the Capital. The ship's name was Argo and it was massive and modern, looking extremely out of place in the quaint, quiet village. He was traveling with a few other Selected from the nearby provinces and already his head was spinning with questions. What would they be like? Were they like him? Would he be friends with them?

He climbed aboard, taking in deep breaths to calm himself.

"Yo, di Angelo, man!" Came a cheerful voice from by the prow of the ship.

Nico turned around and saw a boy around his age bouncing towards him. Nico realized he recognized the boy from Olympus Royal Report, and he panicked. How did the boy know his name? Maybe this boy was the prince!

What was the prince doing here?!

"What's with that look?" The boy asked, stopping in front of him. "Surprised you're not the only guy in this competition?"

Competition? Nico blinked. So this boy wasn't the prince?

"No need to be shy," The boy extended his hand. "Name's Leo. You're Nico, right?"

Nico nodded.

"Us dudes have to stick together, you know, or the ladies are going to pick us off one by one," The other grinned.

He started walking and Nico followed him, unsure of what else to do. He led them to the bridge, a room from where Nico had read in a book the ship was controlled. Nico saw the command console and all its levers and buttons and he couldn't help but give an amazed gasp. This was so much better than his books!

"Beautiful, huh," Leo looked at the controls with the same dreamy gaze and Nico remembered the other was a Four, an intellectual.

"So, um," Nico grasped for a topic of conversation as they continued past the bridge and into a narrow hallway. "You... like the prince?"

"What? Oh, no!" Leo laughed, shaking his head. The hallway ended into stairs that led below deck. "We don't have any sisters, but our parents wanted one of us to join the Selection. My brothers ganged up on me and made me join. I didn't think I'd actually be Selected, though."

Nico didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't. The stairs led to a larger hallway, set on both sides with different doors, some open, some closed. Beside them were plaques of gold. Nico saw one of them was marked WARDROOM and the door beside it GALLEY. He had never encountered those terms in a book before, and now he wished he could ask Hazel what that meant.

"What does this mean?" He pointed to the signs, settling for asking Leo.

"The wardroom is where we'll eat," Leo answered. "The galley is like the kitchen. Never been on a ship before?"

Nico shook his head and waited for some joke regarding his number. None came. Instead, Leo started walking slower, talking more as he explained what the words on the plaques meant. The SICK BAY was for when he wasn't feeling well, the LOBBY was some sort of meeting room, and the SAFE ROOM was for when and if the ship got attacked.

"And these are our rooms!" He waved a hand at a hallway that stopped in a dead end. Instead of more terms, the plaques said CABIN 1 until CABIN 20. "I'm in CABIN 9 and you're in CABIN 13, right over there."

"Thank you," Nico said, and surprisingly, he sincerely meant it.

"I don't mean to pry," Leo walked him to his room and held open the door. "But how about you? Are you after the prince?"

"Oh, no."

"Only boy in the family?"

"Not that, either," Nico shook his head. "It's... complicated."

"Complicated, my ass," Leo scoffed. "Let me guess. Your girlfriend was recruited as a palace maid and now you're trying to follow her there."

That wasn't it exactly, but it was so close to the truth that Nico blushed and spluttered. Leo laughed, elbowing Nico in the side teasingly.

"You gotta keep it under wraps, lover boy," Leo said, more seriously. "Selection Rules forbid us from romantic or sexual interactions with anyone except the prince."

Nico hated that he thought there was a possibility he might break that rule, hated that his mind jumped at the idea of what-if's and what-could-be's. No, he couldn't hope for too much. He just wanted to see Percy again, talk to him, if possible, and tell him how much he missed the other, maybe.

"Thanks for reminding me," Nico stepped inside his room. "I'll try to limit my, um, 'romantic or sexual interactions' to... just the prince."

Leo laughed again, before he ruffled Nico's hair and closed the door behind him. For a moment, Nico just stood, staring at the closed door. Then, he placed his knapsack on the wooden drawer beside the room's single bed. A smile made its way to his face; he had made his first friend at the Selection!

Surprisingly, Nico stayed floating in his happy bubble the rest of the day. Two other Selected they were traveling with had arrived already, but those girls had kept to their cabins. Now, Nico was on the deck, leaning over the side, enjoying the sea breeze as he and Leo waited for the last Selected.

When she did arrive, she made sure everybody knew it.

Her arrival made so much noise the other Selected climbed up to the deck. She came with lines and lines of Nines, bodyguards standing alert and maids holding bags and suitcases. She had her dark hair in ringlets and was wearing the most stylish black mini-dress Nico had ever seen. Slowly, she lowered her oversized shades, revealing brown eyes and pink eyeliner. She looked at the other girls like they were dirty rats. But even that couldn't compare to the look of utter disgust that crossed her face when she looked at Nico.

"You, the Eight," She pointed a manicured finger at him. "Who did you sleep with to get Selected?"

"What?" Nico gasped, horrified, although he didn't fully comprehend what it was she was saying.

"You wouldn't be here otherwise. You're an Eight. You belong in a cave." She sneered. "And don't you forget that."

Nico staggered back. He knew there was discrimination between the numbers. He had heard enough backhanded compliments and slyly-worded insults to know that that was true. But he had never been talked to like this before. The cruel words hurt him in a way he didn't know words could.

"Stop it, Tanaka," Leo moved in front of him and it was the first time Nico had seen him without a smile on his face.

"Leo Valdez," She stood up to her full height, towering over Leo because of her red high heels. "Don't think you can boss me around, just because you're a higher number."

But she did turn around and walk away, glaring daggers over her shoulder. Her servants followed her wordlessly, nervously teetering behind her. The two Selected girls had haunted looks on their faces, as if they were only realizing there were going to be people like this Tanaka in the competition. Slowly, they left as well.

Leo turned to him.

"Don't let it get to you, okay? Not every higher number is like that," Leo's eyes were full of concern and worry, and Nico was glad he had a friend in here. "Tanaka is just like that. Thinks she's above everyone because she's famous."

"Okay," Nico exhaled shakily.

They still had 2 days and a half before the Argo would arrive at the port of the palace, but already Nico was scared of what awaited him in the Selection.

Chapter Text

"The Selected are here!" Hera announced as she banged open the gilded double doors leading to his room. "They have just arrived at the port, but they left for their first Challenge already."

Jason slammed shut the comic book he was reading and hastily buried it under the mountain of papers on his mahogany desk, for once grateful there was always so much work to do in the kingdom.

"Your Maje - Mother," He cleared his throat, relaxing into the leather wingback chair he was seated on and hoping he looked presentable enough.

His mother, the Queen, had been a calm and collected woman until this whole Selection business started. These days, she always seemed a little too happy, a little too excited, blathering on and on about her having another child and Jason adding another member to the Royal Family. Frankly, it was starting to scare him.

"Have you read their files yet, my dear?" She asked sweetly.

Hera didn't do sweet. She did sadistic and scornful, but not sweet. Jason uneasily eyed the forgotten stack of papers by the foot of his king-size, four-poster bed.

"I haven't yet," He admitted.

She made a sound of disapproval.

"But I will," He amended quickly. "After I finish the preparations for the party we're throwing for the Tartarian Royal Family. Also, the soldiers we've sent to sort out the pirate problem in the Aegean Sea haven't returned yet and I thought - "

"Dear, why don't you let your father take care of it this time?"

"Father already has too much on his hands," Jason answered easily.

That was a lie. Zeus hadn't lifted a finger to help run the kingdom in years and Jason wanted to keep it that way. The king was, after all, a war general who thought everything could be solved with swords and guns and bombs. Jason disliked unnecessary violence and preferred peace talks.

"Here they are," Hera easily located the application papers and set them down on what little space there was left on Jason's desk. "Why don't we discuss Mother's favorites?"

"I don't think - "

"Oh, here's one!" The Queen triumphantly held up a sheet of paper. "Now I know what you're thinking."

Jason thought this was an absolute waste of time.

"You think there are prettier girls - and guys - in the Selection," She said this like it was some sort of life and death secret. "And there are! But this girl, you see, she's related to the Queen of the Amazons. Just imagine what marrying her can do for our relationship with the Amazonian Empire!"

Jason had no delusions that he was marrying for love. He was a prince and he knew his duties as such. Still, to be confronted about the truth of the Selection when it had just begun… it was too much.

"She's lovely, Mother," He said through gritted teeth, although he hadn't the faintest idea what she looked like.

"Of course she is, dear," Hera rifled through the stack and pulled out another application form. "This is one of your father's favorites. She's a singer; you know your father likes Fives."

His father liked anything that walked on two legs.

"Oh, this one is another favorite of mine!" She waved a paper in front of his face. "Smart girl, top of the architecture class at her university."

"I'll make sure to pay special attention to them, then."

"Mr D just gave them their first Selection Challenge," Hera continued. "They'll be buying you a gift at Port Market. Why don't you go over there and see them for yourself?"

Port Market was a massive, sprawling place built atop a hill beside the port. Its alleys all led to different streets, and by the back of the market was Market Square, where the stone benches around a three-tiered fountain provided the most beautiful view of the sea.

It was a one-hour ride away from the palace and Jason absolutely didn't want to go. He had far too many things to do, far too many problems to tend to, far too many books to study (not to mention the comic book he hadn't finished)! But he also knew she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Yes, Mother," He said, forever the obedient prince.

"Wonderful," She clasped her hands to her chest. "You might as well buy something for your favorite Selected, too."

"I don't have a favorite Selected, Mother."

"You will soon, my dear," The way she smiled was ominous.

Jason sighed in relief when she finally left.

He walked over to his glass-paneled wardrobe and picked out a white, woolen hooded cloak. Hera had told him to 'go there and see them.' That didn't mean they had to see him too. He drew the cloak over himself and pulled up the hood to hide his face. He went down to the palace stable and asked a servant to get him a horse. He couldn't use Tempest, because it would be too noticeable.

When he finally arrived, he saw cameras flashing everywhere and TV crews on every street. The people were talking over each other way too loudly, everyone having something to say although it seemed nobody was listening. It was a microcosm of his world, his whole life squeezed into one scene.

Jason wanted to laugh.

The Selection had only just begun, but he hated it already.

Chapter Text

The market looked very festive, with little colorful flags strung together everywhere, from shop to shop, from one streetlight to the next. For a moment, Jason just stood there, taking in the bright lights. He could smell the the delicious aroma of cooking meat from food stalls, could see the precious stones glinting behind the glass windows of jewelry stores, could hear the sound of a thousand footsteps walking on the cobblestone.

He kept to the main avenue, mindful of the camera crews and the giggling Selected girls filling the shops and streets. When he finally had had enough of all the noise and commotion, he decided to go look for a gift, remembering his mother's orders. He thanked his lucky stars when he found a small, empty jewelry shop.

"Welcome!" Came the shrill greeting of the shopkeeper as he stepped inside.

He inspected the glass display cases, while the shopkeeper hovered about him. She didn't leave his side, even when the door opened again and a boy entered. He was around Jason's age, with dark hair that curled at the tips and matching dark eyes. But what struck Jason was the bewildered look on his face, as if he didn't know where he was.

"I'll just take this one," Jason pointed to a random piece of jewelry.

"You have excellent taste, good sir! Your girlfriend will adore this!" The shopkeeper squealed, holding the glinting necklace between her fingers. "This necklace was made from linder streaked with diamonds and the pendant is pure adamas!"

The other customer walked over, looking even more confused.

"How much?" Jason asked, keeping his voice low and quiet.

"Normally, this would go for 6 thousand and a half," She looked at him slyly. "But for you, I'll make it just 6 thousand!"

Wordlessly, Jason reached for his pockets.

"It's fake," The other customer suddenly blurted out. "Linder doesn't occur naturally with diamond. And if this were really pure adamas, it would be dust by now, because adamas reacts very badly to other substances."

Jason stared.

"And what would you know about this, little boy?" The shopkeeper turned away from the prince, but he saw the promise of a threat in her eyes and he heard the sneer in her voice.

"I'm an Eight." The other answered simply.

The shopkeeper's eyes widened. Her nostrils flared and her mouth pressed into a thin line. Then, she stomped around the display case, coming towards them, raising her fists in the air.

"Get out!" She hollered.

The customer grabbed Jason by his cloak and they ran, out of the shop and into the streets, without looking back. They didn't stop until they were in Market Square and the Eight braced himself against the back of the stone bench, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry for getting us kicked out of the store," He said.

"No," The prince shook his head. "I should be thanking you. That shopkeeper had me completely fooled. No wonder her store was empty."

The stranger was still gasping for breath, his fingers shaking as he clutched his knees.

"Are you alright?" Jason asked, concerned, but worried he would be recognized if he spoke too much.

"No," The other replied far too quickly.

For a second, Jason was at a loss for words. He wasn't expecting honesty. 'Are you alright' was a question similar to 'how are you.' The only acceptable answers were 'yes' and 'fine.' At least, that's how Jason was taught things worked.

"Well, um, what's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong!" The other cried out, slowly lowering himself to sit on the ground. "I was wrong to like him! The Selection was wrong to choose me! It was wrong for me to come here!"

"You're a Selected?"

"Yes, I just told you!" The dark-eyed boy snapped.

Jason blinked, confused, not used to being spoken to so disrespectfully. Still, he couldn't find it in him to be offended, not when the other looked so distressed.

"You don't want to be part of the Selection?" Even as he asked it, the very thought seemed impossible to Jason. Everyone wanted to be Selected, that's what the prince had been told over and over again since he came of age.

"No, I mean, yes… I mean, I don't know," The other sighed and ran both hands through his hair. "I only came here because the person I like is here and… I… I don't know if I'll even get to see him!"

"Are you talking about the prince?"

"What?" He made a face. "I don't even know the prince! How could I like him?"

"But the goal of the Selection - "

"I don't care about the Selection!"

Jason shut up, their conversation picking apart everything the palace had taught him: the sky was blue, everyone wanted to be in the Selection, the sea was green, everyone wanted the prince. He decided not to focus on how utterly confused the stranger was making him.

He didn't have much experience with upset teenage boys, but he did know what to do with spooked horses - you spoke to them in soothing tones and patted their heads. He went with that, sitting on the ground as well so they were eye to eye.

"You said you're an Eight?"

The other nodded.

"Where are you from?" Jason asked, settling for what he knew would be a comforting topic - home.

"Opus."

"Oh, a mining province," The moment the words were out of his mouth, Jason wanted to smack himself. Of course an Eight would come from a mining province! He cleared his throat. "What's it like?"

"Quiet," The stranger answered.

"Then the market must've shocked you. Shouting people everywhere, all those cameras, and let me guess - girls fighting over shoes?"

The dark-eyed boy looked at him like he'd just revealed all the secrets of the universe.

"Do you think he was worth it? The person you like, do you think he was worth coming here?"

"Of course he is!" The other looked affronted.

"Then why do you regret it?"

It took moments before the dark-eyed boy could muster a reply.

"I… don't know," He said softly. "It just... feels wrong to be here. I know I shouldn't be here."

"Hey, I grew up here in the Capital and sometimes I feel like I don't belong here," Jason admitted.

"Really?"

"Really," The prince paused thoughtfully. "Do you want me to take you back to the palace?"

"I don't like it there at the palace," The other confessed sullenly. "It's big and empty and cold. It's intimidating."

"Maybe you're just overwhelmed?" Jason reached out a hand to pat the Eight's cheek.

The stranger sighed and leaned into Jason's touch. The prince made no move to get up, wanting this peaceful, quiet moment to last. If there was something he needed more of in his life, it was peace and quiet.

"You should give this place a chance," Jason finally said, remembering the other was a Selected.

"I know."

"It can be beautiful, too," He turned around and faced the sea. "Look, the sun's just setting."

The other smiled at the scene before them and Jason had never been so happy to see someone smile.

"Thank you for… um, talking to me," The stranger shyly said. "I'm Nico di Angelo."

Jason got to his feet, pulling Nico up as well, but as he did, the hood of his cloak slipped off. He let it, wanting Nico to know who he really was.

There was no fanfare.

Nico didn't squeal or gasp or bring out a camera. He didn't so much as blink. Instead, he stood there, looking at Jason quietly. For the first time, Jason felt like someone was seeing him, truly seeing him, not as Jason the prince but as Jason Grace.

"Here," Nico said, opening his right hand and revealing the necklace from earlier. "It's fake, yeah, but the design is really pretty. You wanted it, right?"

Jason didn't, but he took it and said his thanks. He noticed Nico was wearing a band of gold and diamonds on his ring finger.

"I have to go now," Nico stepped back from him. "But thank you, really."

"It was my pleasure," Jason said, and it was the truth. He smiled as he watched Nico turn around and leave.

Maybe the Selection wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Chapter Text

Jason returned to the palace with a smile on his face and a slight spring in his step. He would be whistling too, but he felt such behaviour was beneath his station. Not to mention the hell his mother would give him if she saw!

He turned a corner leading to the hallway of his room and was surprised to see his personal guard standing by the door.

"How goes the situation with the Aegean pirates?" Jason asked as he opened the double door of gilded wood that led to his bedroom, designed with the recurring motif of eagles and lightning in lacquer. He was Jason the prince now, all business again, immediately forgetting the encounter in Market Square that had put him in high spirits.

"Unfortunately, they wouldn't listen to reason," His guard gave a troubled sigh as he followed the prince inside. "So we had no choice but to dispatch them."

"Any casualties on our side?"

"None."

Relieved, Jason shrugged off his cloak and sat down on the wingback chair behind his desk. Immediately, his guard plopped himself down onto the chair in front of the desk. Jason raised an eyebrow. This guard had been in his employ for a few years now and still the Two's blatant disregard for social rules and basic etiquette surprised Jason.

"So I heard you went to see the Selected," The guard started, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Queen's orders."

"Right. Sure. If you say so," The guard grinned. "I bet you just couldn't wait until the formal introductions tomorrow, huh?"

"Are you suggesting I - " Jason stopped. He let the other's words sink in. "The formal introductions are tomorrow?"

"They didn't tell you?"

Jason shook his head and tried to calm down. There was nothing to be worried about, he told himself. He was the prince, the goal of the Selection. If anything, he should be grateful they were hurrying things along. He didn't have a lot of time to waste.

"I could've sworn the introductions were supposed to be on Friday," Jason muttered as he began rummaging through the papers on his desk, looking for anything that had to do with the Selection schedule.

"I heard from a Selection official that it was the Queen's doing."

"The Queen..." The prince sighed, defeated and resigned to his fate. "Of course."

"What's wrong, Jason?" The guard asked casually, as if he weren't violating a couple dozen laws by speaking so familiarly with a One.

But this guard was probably the closest thing Jason had to a friend.

"I'm just a little… uncertain, is all. I don't like not being prepared." The prince shrugged his shoulders to hide how much admitting his own weakness scared him.

"Well, did you like any of the Selected you saw?"

The question brought back flashes of memory: colorful flags strung together, a dazzling sunset, a face with dark hair and eyes.

"Actually, I met someone interesting," The corners of Jason's lips turned upwards into a fond smile. "He said he wasn't here to win the Selection."

"He said that to your face?" The guard looked impressed.

"Yeah, kind of." Jason's eyes darted to the cloak he wore earlier. "He's an Eight. He said he was looking for someone."

"Did he say who?"

"No," The prince shook his head. "And I thought it would be rude to ask."

"The others?"

"There's no need to bother with them," His good mood gone, Jason's mouth tasted bitter. "My mother has given me a list of the Selected she and my father favor. I'm sure I'm supposed to pick from their favorites."

The guard looked thoughtful, which was a rare expression on his features.

"There's nothing for you to worry about, Jason," He finally said. "Maybe you don't like any of the Selected now and you're wondering how in the world you're supposed to pick a partner. But you haven't even talked to them yet. Give them a chance."

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't form any words, caught off-guard by the truth in the Two's words. He remembered the advice he had given to the dark-eyed, dark-haired Selected back at Market Square: Give this place a chance.

"Are you going to be at the introductions tomorrow?" He asked.

"Nah," The guard waved dismissively. "I'm in charge of security around the Grand Hall."

"Well, do you want to be at the introductions?"

The Two's eyes lit up, obviously considering the offer. But then he ran a hand through his hair and chuckled helplessly.

"I would love to," He said. "Think of all the food! And the new people! It would be like a party!"

"Of course."

"But your dad would have my head if he found out I was shirking my duties," The guard slumped against Jason's desk, boneless. "Again."

"Speaking of your duties," The prince pointedly stared at the large wall clock above his room's fireplace. "Time for patrol."

The Two groaned loudly, but he pulled himself up and dragged his feet to the door.

"Before you go," Jason called out as the other opened the door. "In case you come across my father or my mother, remember, it's impolite to address royalty by their given name."

The prince had lost count of how many times he'd given the Two this particular piece of advice.

"Good night, Jason." The guard answered, closing the door, as if he hadn't heard a word.

Jason chuckled.

"Good night, Percy."

Chapter Text

Nico stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror and thought he looked absolutely hideous. There were bags under his eyes, which were bloodshot, and he looked pale as a ghost. What made it worse was that his Selection assistant had dressed him in a white dress shirt and black fitted pants. Those were the nicest clothes he'd worn in his life, but he knew he must look absurd: an Eight wearing high number-clothes. Hilarious.

"Can't I just wear my own clothes?" He asked, the question ending in a whine.

He cast his eyes around the room he'd been assigned to, looking for his backpack. The place was almost as big as his and Hazel's house back in Opus, but where their house was decked in yellows and oranges, this room was swimming in shades of violet.

Everything in the room was violet: from the mauve drapes parting to reveal a balcony, to the lilac silk blankets on the four-poster bed. The end tables had purple lamps and the mirror on the vanity was studded with amethysts. By the far corner of the room was a mulberry-colored door that opened into a bathroom.

"I'm sorry, Sir," The assistant answered. "But you're meeting the prince today. You need to look your best!"

Nico leaned his body against the mirror and groaned. He had been trying so hard not to think of that! Instantly, he began to feel anxious, a hundred thousand questions making his head spin. What was he going to say? What would the prince think of him? Was he getting kicked out of the Selection?

"Done! All ready." The assistant put away the hairbrush. She gestured to the door.

He didn't move an inch, frozen.

The assistant was unsympathetic. She put a hand to his elbow and tugged him along. On their way, she repeated the Selection Rules to him and briefed him on the proper conduct and etiquette while in the presence of Ones. Nico didn't hear a word. He walked mechanically, like a robot, down a flight of stairs and across a hallway, until they finally stopped in front of a grand double door.

"Good luck," The assistant whispered, as she opened the doors and pushed him in.

Nico finally snapped out of his stupor.

"Wait," He called out. "What am I supposed to talk about with the prince?"

"Let's see… politics? Economics? The weather? Oh, I know!" She clapped her hands together. "Your gift."

As the door closed in his face, Nico felt like fainting. He remembered Port Market. He remembered running off with a stranger to Market Square. He remembered forgetting to get the prince a gift.

"You look like your dog died," Leo commented as he sat down beside Nico.

"I'm going home," Nico moaned, his face in his hands.

He was seated on one of the fifty chairs in the large room, all of which were facing a small stage. At the back of the room, behind the chairs and to the side of the grand double doors, was a diamond-tufted couch.

"Which Selection Rule did you break?" Leo asked, sounding genuinely curious. After a moment, he grinned. "Ah, I know! You had, um, 'romantic and sexual interactions' with someone else!"

"It's not that," Nico wondered if he looked as miserable as he felt.

"Well, what is it?"

"I forgot to get the prince a gift."

"Oh man," Leo whistled. "You are going home!"

The room quieted then, and Nico looked up to see a figure emerge on the stage and walk up to the center. He looked very sharp in his well-fitted navy suit and very handsome with his golden-blond hair. Nico thought he'd seen this man before. Or maybe he hadn't. Either way, the man's appearance provided a distraction from his distress.

"Good morning, everyone," The person said, his voice neither as soft nor quiet as Nico remembered it. Instead, it was confident and it carried throughout the room.

There was a chorus of breathy and breathless answers.

"Today I'll finally be meeting all of you. I will be calling you one at a time to sit with me at the couch by the back," He smiled. "Let us begin with Mr Nico di Angelo."

And Nico realized the stranger at the market was actually the prince of the kingdom.

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Jason asked, incredulous.

In a little act of defiance, he had ignored his mother's list of favorites and decided his first introduction would be the Selected he met at Market Square. He had been looking forward to their next meeting, expecting it would be like the last. The moment would be quiet and calm and Nico would talk to him disrespectfully and treat him like he were an ordinary person.

Jason had never been so wrong

"I'm sorry," Nico repeated, inching further and further away from Jason and to the other end of the couch. His face was pained and he looked at Jason like the prince were a fifteen meter-tall giant.

Jason opened his mouth to ask if the other was alright, but thought better of it. The answer was obviously no.

"Why are you sorry?" He said instead.

"Because I forgot to get you a gift," Nico said, curling into himself as if to make himself smaller. "And because I didn't recognize you."

"You didn't what?"

"I'm really bad with faces and names, you see," The Eight explained, talking quickly. "I wouldn't have yelled at you if I knew you were the prince, I swear!"

"You didn't recognize me?" Jason pointed to himself and talked slowly, like he couldn't understand what the other was saying.

Is that why Nico hadn't reacted like the others? Because he didn't recognize Jason? And now that he did, was he going to treat Jason the way everybody else did?

"Well, you were wearing such a plain cloak and it was dark, and I didn't think a One would be at the market, you know?"

"You didn't recognize me," Jason whispered in disbelief.

"Yes, I just told you!" Nico snapped.

The initial shock ebbed away and Jason felt himself relax. There it was, the irate Selected from Market Square who yelled at the prince of his kingdom. Jason smiled, completely at ease now.

Unfortunately, it seemed even the guards at the door heard Nico's outburst and they walked towards him menacingly. The Eight didn't notice them, too busy glaring at the prince. Jason waved the guards away and they returned to their post, looking confused.

"It's all your fault!" Nico hissed.

"How is it my fault?"

"You could've just told me you were the prince!" He looked agitated, and there were spots of color high on his cheeks.

"Are you getting angry with me?" Jason asked, honestly baffled. He didn't think he had done anything wrong and he certainly didn't want Nico angry with him. But on the other hand, no one had ever gotten mad at him before. This was… new.

"I... No. I'm not angry," Nico deflated like a balloon. "Please don't kick me out."

The thought had never even entered Jason's head.

"I won't."

"Really?" Nico looked at him hopefully, moving closer.

"I promise," The prince placed a hand over his chest solemnly, but there was a warm, sincere smile on his face.

"Oh, thank you dear gods," The Eight sagged down on the couch bonelessly, sighing in relief. "I thought I was going home for sure."

"You want to stay in the palace?"

Nico nodded eagerly.

"Does this mean you're competing in the Selection?"

"No, no, not at all." The Eight shook his head, his hair getting in his eyes. "But I'm not leaving until I find the person I'm looking for."

There was disappointment prickling in the prince's chest. Nico was interesting, a breath of fresh air, and the thought that he wasn't here for Jason didn't make Jason happy.

"Tell you what," Nico had moved closer again. "I'll make you a deal."

The prince waited.

"In exchange for letting me stay," Nico paused, thinking over his next words. "I'll be your friend."

"My friend?" Jason raised an eyebrow.

"Yes! You're a prince, with a country to run and all that, so you clearly don't have time to waste. I'll help you narrow down these forty-nine to one," He ran his eyes over all the other Selected. "You can ask me anything. You can tell me anything. I'll be your friend. Deal?"

Jason felt the weight in his chest lighten and he understood. He wasn't happy Nico wasn't here for him, because he wanted to be able to make Nico stay. And he wanted Nico to stay because he wanted to spend more time with him. Nico was surprising and interesting and it wasn't complicated, really.

They would be friends.

"Deal," Jason shook Nico's hand.

And that would be enough.

Chapter Text

Jason watched Nico walk away and he sighed. He called over one of his butlers, who handed him a folder without being asked. The prince flipped it open, stared at the list of his mother's favorites, and gave it back to the butler. His little rebellion was over.

Time to get to work.

"Reyna Ramirez-Arellano," Jason called.

A girl with black hair and eyes marched up to the couch, her back straight and her strides measured. Related to Queen of the Amazons, his mother had noted at the bottom of her application form, written with red ink in her elegant, curving strokes.

"Good morning, Your Royal Highness," She curtsied, before sitting beside him. "May I commend you for the strategy you employed during the battle against the rebels in Thrace? Very brilliant."

To his credit, Jason was able to completely mask his surprise. He wasn't expecting a discussion on military strategy from any of the Selected. Then again, this Reyna was a Two, wasn't she? A soldier, maybe, or a tactician?

"Do you have any experience on the battlefield?" Jason asked, curious.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness. I was Praetor for the military camp Jupiter before coming here." The way she said it was matter-of-factly, not boastful or bragging in any way.

Well. That was impressive. Why hadn't Jason heard of her before?

"Then perhaps you would care to spar with me one of these days?"

"It would be my pleasure, Your Royal Highness," She inclined her head respectfully. "Perhaps you would be able to use the gift I have bought for you. It is a sword of Imperial Gold, forged by Spinther himself."

"Why did you decide to give me a sword?"

"A ruler will always have enemies. It is important for the prince to know how to defend himself." Reyna replied without missing a beat.

Jason smiled. He didn't know her all that well yet, but she seemed straightforward and practical, and she was well-informed about the happenings in the country. His mother was correct to pick her.

She would make a great partner.

"Thank you for your time," Jason said.

Reyna might be a Two, but she obviously knew a dismissal when she heard one, because she rose to her feet. She curtsied to him again before she returned to her seat. She left a good impression on him, and Jason was hopeful for the others on the list. He wasted no time and immediately went to the next one.

"Piper McLean," He called.

A girl with choppy, brown locks and the most beautiful eyes walked up to him, her every step graceful, her every move charming, from the way she shyly smiled to the way she picked up her skirts to curtsy. Jason didn't have to wonder why she was one of his father's favorites. She was mesmerizing.

"Hello, Your Royal Highness," She murmured, looking down at her lap.

"Hello," Jason answered, a little speechless.

Jason stared at her while she stared at her hands and the next seconds ticked by in complete silence.

"So, um," The prince cleared his throat, more than a little embarrassed that he had been reduced to a tongue-tied fool by a girl. "I understand you're a Five."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," She lifted her eyes to his, but quickly averted them again. "I, uh, sing."

At least he wasn't the only one who had lost all ability to communicate.

"That's… wonderful," Jason gritted his teeth as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was going to ask her to sing, not give her some stunted compliment! He wanted to hear her voice!

"Thank you," She said in a whisper. "Um, how are you, Your Royal Highness?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

She nodded at that and he racked his brains for something to say to save the conversation, when he noticed the other Selected were turning their heads to look their way. Jason had no idea how much time had passed, but he saw the impatience and agitation in their eyes and knew that the time was enough.

"Thank you for your time," He muttered, defeated.

She curtsied, before walking away, and Jason found his eyes following her every movement, even as she returned to her seat. He shook his head. He wasn't going to act like his father! With that thought in mind, he sighed and called over the next Selected.

"Annabeth Chase."

A tanned girl with stormy gray eyes and blond curls walked up to him and Jason tried to remember what his mother had written on her file. Smart girl, his mother had noted and it seemed like such a simple thing that Jason wondered if 'smart' meant something else to the Queen.

"Good morning," He greeted, eager to avoid another awkward conversation.

"It's nice to meet you, Your Royal Highness," She answered, before going straight to the point. "Have you read Plato's The Republic?"

What? Was this what his mother meant by 'smart'?

"Yes, of course," Jason replied, conveniently not mentioning how the book had given him many sleepless nights, accompanied by splitting headaches. "I find myself leaning towards Plato's interpretation of justice, rather than Thrasymachus'."

"That's unfortunate," Annabeth's face betrayed only the slightest disappointment. "I bought you a copy of that for your gift."

"That's no matter. My library could always use more books," Jason softly sighed, relieved that she wasn't planning on turning their conversation into a full-blown discussion on the concept of justice. He didn't think he could handle that, not right now. "You're interested in political theory and philosophy, then?"

"I am, but my main interest is architecture. This palace, Your Royal Highness, is absolutely breathtaking. I hope to design one as beautiful as this one day," She smiled dreamily, her hands gesturing to the arches and pillars in the room.

Was this what his mother meant by 'smart?' Did the Queen want a new palace?

Before the prince could get another word out, Annabeth launched into a lecture on the technicalities of design, complete with a history on certain styles. It was very informative and educational and Jason liked listening to her talk about her passion, but he had to dismiss her before all the other Selected flew into a rage.

The hour soon melded into a blur of faces and names and fun facts and the prince had to struggle to keep up. There was Leo Valdez, who Jason thought of as a brother; there was supermodel Drew Tanaka, who was almost as beautiful as Piper; there was Clarisss LaRue, who was a little too headstrong for the prince. With a blue pen, he wrote his own observations and opinions on their application forms.

By the end of the introductions, only 43 Selected remained. Jason knew the number would only dwindle more and more as the days passed. But Jason found that he could already imagine one of them by his side, as his partner, when he finally reigned as King of Olympus.

Chapter Text

The formal introductions took way longer than they should have, and by the time everyone was done and the Selected were being escorted to the banquet room, Nico was starving.

The banquet room was massive, the food plentiful, and Nico knew he would stay here as long as he could, if only for the food. As he sat on one of the chairs by the long mahogany table, he eyed the feast set in front of him: there were baskets of muffins and scones and bagels, and plates of eggs and bacon and sausages, too. There were cups of tea and pitchers of orange juice, but what really got him moving was the rich aroma of freshly-brewed coffee. He had never seen so much food in his entire life!

Nico sat down, frowning when he realized he was sitting across Drew Tanaka, and decided he couldn't care less. He reached for his spoon and fork and - there was no other word for it - started devouring everything within reach. He was on his 3rd serving of bacon, when a hand stopped his wrist.

"What?" Nico asked, lifting his eyes from his plate, irritated. Okay, so he wasn't Mr Personality in the mornings.

"Easy there," Leo's eyes flicked to the food Nico was hoarding, and then to the rest of the people at the table.

Nico followed Leo's gaze and saw the stares the other Selected were giving him. He blushed to the roots of his hair, embarrassed beyond belief. By the gods, he was shoving everything down his throat, wasn't he?

He cleared his throat awkwardly, thinking of something - anything! - to say, but then he checked himself. He didn't owe anyone in here an explanation. He was free to eat as much as he wanted, however he wanted. He didn't care what they thought of him.

Defiantly, he began eating again. The others gave him incredulous looks, as they, too, started eating in little nibbles. Nico studiously ignored them. Leo laughed approvingly, settling down to Nico's left as a girl took the Eight's right.

"That's Annabeth, by the way," Leo said, one hand pointing to the girl, one hand on a bagel. "She's my friend from uni."

"Nice to meet you," Nico mumbled through the food in his mouth. How could people know each other inside the competition!? He didn't think the country was that small!

Annabeth just nodded, offering a polite 'hello.'

"Where is the prince?" She asked, looking around.

As if on cue, the doors to the banquet room opened and the prince entered. Everyone stood to bow or curtsy and he took his seat at the head of the table. The girls seated near him looked just about ready to faint. Nico gritted his teeth, cursing the universe for not letting him eat his meal in peace.

As soon as he sat down, Nico shoved 2 muffins in his mouth. He instantly regretted it when he heard a familiar voice speak his name.

"Nico."

Nico looked to the head of the table and saw Jason, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Glad to see you're enjoying the food," The prince remarked, covering his mouth with a napkin to hide his smile.

Bastard.

Nico couldn't answer, his mouth still filled with food. He chewed as quickly as he could, but he saw the way Drew smirked, looking smug. After a few seconds of excruciating silence, he finally managed to swallow.

"It's fantastic, Your Royal Highness," He said, trying to sound calm. "I've never tasted anything better."

"I bet," Drew whispered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

Nico looked away from the prince, hoping Jason would get the hint and leave him alone. He did, and Nico almost breathed a sigh of relief when the prince started talking a girl seated near him.

"He must like you," Leo's friend - Annabeth, was it? - said, her sharp eyes watching his reaction. "He went out of his way to talk to you just now."

Nico shrugged.

"What can I say?" Leo answered for him, swinging his fork in the air. "My friend is charming."

"There are less than a dozen males left in the Selection," She continued. "You two must be doing something right."

"Really?" Leo asked, although he looked more interested in his bacon than what Annabeth was saying. "What happened to the others?"

"He dismissed them right after the formal introductions," She answered. "That's why he was late to breakfast."

"What did they do to offend him in five minutes?"

Nico found himself curious as well, because Jason didn't seem like the type to judge easily. He wasn't interested in winning the Selection, but he was interested in staying in the palace. Besides, he didn't know the prince well enough yet to know if he would keep his word.

"Maybe he's not gay," Leo answered his own question. "But I remember he said he was open-minded, during an interview."

"I think," Another girl, with brown hair, joined their conversation. "The prince is the type who falls in love with a person, not with their gender."

By the time he was done eating, Nico was so full he could hardly stand. He didn't regret a single bite, though, and he was patting his tummy contentedly when the prince rose from his seat.

"It was a pleasure having breakfast with all of you," He said, addressing the whole table. "But I'm afraid I have another matter to attend to. I apologize for leaving early. Please remain seated and enjoy the rest of your meal."

There were giggles and sighs as he walked around the table to leave. Nico kept his head down, glad the excitement for today was over. He could hear the prince's footsteps and he frowned when they stopped behind him.

"The flowers start blooming around this time of the year," Jason said, placing a hand on Nico's shoulder and leaning down, forcing the Eight to look at him. "Would you like to take a walk through the gardens with me on the weekend?"

What?

Nico's mind raced a mile a minute. What did the prince want from him? Was he going to be eliminated? What about their deal? Nico didn't know exactly how the Selection worked, so he looked around the table for help.

Annabeth looked slightly surprised. The brown-haired girl was frowning in disappointment. Drew had even dropped her bagel! Only Leo was smiling, winking at him suggestively. Hastily, Nico concluded that being asked out by the prince wasn't a good sign.

"No, thank you," He answered.

The gasps that followed his refusal made Nico cringe. What had he done now? He looked back at the prince, whose eyebrows had shot to his hairline. The expression on the prince's face was torn between amusement and confusion.

"I insist, my friend," Jason said, whispering the last word.

Nico swallowed back his nervousness and wet his lips, suddenly aware of how close his face was to the prince's.

"Okay," He nodded, his voice shaky and breathless. "Of course."

Jason let out a quiet laugh. He squeezed Nico's shoulder reassuringly, and then he was out the banquet room doors. Nico was staring at his plate, but he could feel the menacing auras and piercing glares of the others on the table. Dazedly, he wondered if he was even going to make it to the weekend alive.

He certainly hoped not.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, Nico hurriedly excused himself from his company and headed for his room, running as if his life depended on it. (To a certain extent, it did.) His room was exactly the way he remembered it: empty and very violet. He threw himself on the bed, burying his face in the pillows, and resolved never to move again.

Unfortunately, around noon, there was a knock on his door that forced him to get up. He trudged to the door, mumbling curses, and opened it to the sight of two Nines, servants of the palace. They were both holding silver trays, but on one there was food, whereas on the other there was a folded letter.

Nico went for the tray with food first.

Naturally.

"The Selected will be having lunch in their rooms," The first Nine said, obviously repeating the words of someone else, as she stepped inside his room and placed the tray on the table out by the balcony.

"This is for you," The other spoke next, presenting to him the letter.

Nico graciously thanked them both, not used to having servants. They bowed before they left and Nico found it tremendously awkward. They were Nines, and although they were below him, he was just an Eight, just one Number away.

Nico closed the door behind them and opened the letter as he walked to the balcony. It reminded him of the letter for the Selection, fragrant and expensive-looking, the handwriting inside cursive and flowy.

Like the Selection letter, this letter also made his stomach turn.

Dear Selected,

The Olympus Royal Report camera crew will be present and filming during dinner.

Love,
Mr D

Nico groaned.

As expected, dinner was a noisy and bothersome affair. There were cameras everywhere and it seemed as if everyone was talking a mile a minute. Nico couldn't even hear himself think and the food tasted like cardboard in his mouth.

"My mother is a fashion designer," Someone drawled to Nico's left.

Nico didn't have to look to see who spoke. He would know that nasty voice anywhere. It was Drew Tanaka.

"So I've always had a passion for clothes," She continued. "I bought His Royal Highness the most stylish coat from Ariadne's Loom. It's navy blue and it has the most fabulous little stripes down the front. Oh Hermes, you'll adore it!"

"I'm sure I will," Hermes cooed back. "Since it was chosen by one of today's hottest models!"

She giggled delicately.

Nico resisted the urge to throw up on the table.

"I hate it when they involve the media," One girl said as she walked up to him and Annabeth.

She had black hair and eyes and he recognized her, but couldn't place a name to her face.

"Everyone goes crazy. No discipline whatsoever." She continued, sitting down across him, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. Her face relaxed when she turned to them. "My name is Reyna. You're Annabeth Chase and this is Nico di Angelo."

"It's nice to meet you," Annabeth smiled.

Nico just nodded, wondering how in Olympus everyone here managed to remember everyone else, when he couldn't even remember the face of the Royal Family.

"So, Drew, darling, what do you think of our prince?" Hermes asked next.

"He's absolutely perfect!" She gushed in reply, sounding surprisingly genuine. "He's so good-looking it should be a crime."

"That he is, that he is," The host nodded gravely, before he turned to the brown-haired girl Nico remembered from yesterday's breakfast. "Piper, sweetheart, what do you think of our prince?"

"He's very sweet," She answered shyly.

"Sweet, now, that's a curious word," He smiled slyly. "Tell me, has anything happened between you and our prince?"

"Oh no, not at all, we just talked… um, during the formal introductions."

Nico heard the disappointment in her voice, although she tried to hide it by laughing. He knew that there were people who joined the Selection to elevate their status, there were also people who joined for a chance at the crown, but were there also people who joined just for Jason himself?

"Well, how do you feel about the first elimination?"

"I certainly feel bad for those who were eliminated, although I hadn't gotten to know them well," Her eyebrows furrowed in thought. "But I'm grateful I'm still here. I want to know the prince better."

"Everyone does, sweetheart."

With that, Hermes turned his back to Piper and walked up to them. Nico tensed up. He didn't like having the cameras so close to him. He thought of leaving his seat, but figured that would only attract more attention. He stayed sitting, keeping his head down in the hopes that they would ignore him.

"Leo, hello," The host began. "What do you think of our prince?"

"We could be bros!" Leo was a little too enthusiastic, compared to the girls.

"Just bros?"

"Just bros?" Leo put his hand to his chest in mock-hurt. "Bros are for life, dude!"

"So you're hoping to continue your friendship with the prince even after the Selection? "

"If he's cool with that, then hell yeah!"

Hermes laughed along with Leo, before he turned back to the camera following him.

"A little bird told me that the prince has already asked someone out for a one-on-one," He said it like it were the biggest military secret of the country. "Who could that lucky person be? Is our prince already playing favorites this early in the Selection? Will that person be the partner of our next King? Stay tuned for a special on the prince's first date!"

Faster than Hera running after Zeus' mistresses, Hermes grabbed Nico by the arms and dragged him to a corner of the banquet room. Nico followed hesitantly, the grip on his arms too strong to be shrugged off. Once Hermes had Nico cornered by the door, the host clasped his hands in excitement.

"Nico, dearest, sorry I was a little rough."

Nico rubbed his sore arms. The host had been more than a little rough.

"But this is a topic that's hush-hush even for the other Selected!" He waved over a camera. "Alright so, you're the first person our prince has invited out. What do you think about our prince?"

"He's very…" Nico frowned. "… nice."

"How do you feel about your upcoming date?"

"I'm..." Nico thought about it. Nervous? Terrified? Totally not looking forward to it? "I'm excited."

"How did the prince ask you out?"

"Um, he said something about flowers this season," Nico tried to think, the beaming host and his oversized camera not helping at all. "And a walk in the gardens."

"Do you like flowers?"

"Well, my sister does, and she replaces the flowers at our home every season," Automatically, Nico went to the one thing that calmed him - home. "So, yes, I guess I do."

"One last thing, Nico. Do you see any future for you and our prince?"

"Yeah," Nico smiled sarcastically. "I think we'll be great friends."

Chapter Text

The next day was a free day, meaning the Selection officials had nothing planned. Still, Nico remained a bundle of nerves because of his upcoming 'date.' He wanted to stay in his room all day - as usual - but Leo came knocking at his door after the morning bell and said he wouldn't go away unless Nico went with him.

Nico sighed as he pulled on some of his own clothes, defeated by Leo's stubbornness. They walked to the common room, which had been set aside for the sole use of the Selected. Unlike the rest of the palace, the room hadn't been made to impress. It was made to feel cozy, with its low-back couches and fuzzy rugs. At least, Nico though it would be cozy, if it weren't for the 2 girls in the middle, trying to tear each other's face off.

"Um," Nico licked his lips nervously, hands behind his back, fumbling to open the door they'd just closed. It didn't matter to him what was going on, this was clearly a fight, and he and Leo had to get out of here as soon as possible!

Unfortunately, Leo was faster.

He bolted from the door and launched himself in the middle of the fight. He tried to pull the taller and bigger girl from the other, but the girl simply kicked him in the shin and shoved him away. Leo doubled over, wheezing. Nico chewed on his lower lip, scanning the room and weighing his options.

Most of the boys were cheering, spurring on the fight. The rest stood to the side, looking put out as they rubbed their bruised arms. Nico guessed they, too, had tried to stop the brawl. The girls looked horrified, and a black-haired girl was even sobbing. Drew stood away from the crowd, looking triumphant.

Nico's hand found the doorknob.

He twisted it and the door opened behind him. Nico stumbled backwards, almost losing his footing. He didn't know where to go, but he ran, blindly. Finally, at the end of the hallway, Nico spied a guard, his back turned.

"Hey! Hey!" Nico called, cupping his hands around his mouth. "There's a fight at the commons!"

The guard turned, slowly.

"Sir?" He moved closer, his features still indistinguishable. "Is something the matter?"

"There's a fight at the commons!" Nico screamed, then turned on his heel. "This way!"

He heard the guard running after him and he went faster, breathing harshly. Once they reached the common room, the guard flung the door open and marched in. Nico stayed outside, leaning on the door with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"Halt!" The guard ordered. "In the name of the King Zeus, cease this fighting immediately!"

"It was her fault!" One girl shrieked from inside. "She started it!"

"Enough!" The guard's voice was fainter now, and Nico guessed he had moved farther into the room. "Both of you will come with me. We will report to the prince directly."

Nico heard whines of protests and grumbled explanations, but a moment later, the guard was walking out the door, the 2 Selected limping after him. The guard turned to him.

"Thank you for notifying me," The guard nodded.

For a second, Nico saw Percy, with his green eyes and black hair.

"I'm Charles Beckendorf," The guard held out his hand.

Nico shook it, locking away the image of Percy in his mind.

Someday.

By the time lunch rolled around, the Selected who were fighting had been eliminated. The dining table was abuzz with rumors and gossip and Nico couldn't help but overhear the whispers that passed from one mouth to another.

"It's all Drew's fault, that scheming little," What followed was a string of curses very uncharacteristic of Leo and Nico found himself curious, despite himself.

"What happened?"

"Silena Beauregard. She's the girl over there," Leo pointed to the black-haired girl Nico had seen sobbing yesterday. "She's a Six, you see? Her father works as a stable boy for the family of Clarisse LaRue - that's the girl who kicked me yesterday, remember?"

Nico nodded.

"Well, Drew told Clarisse she heard Lacy say cruel things about Silena."

"What kind of things?"

"Things like how Silena belongs in a stable, how she smells like horse manure, how she stinks up the palace… Drew stuff," Leo shook his head. "Clarisse got so angry she attacked Lacy and now Drew has 2 less competitors."

"Shouldn't we tell the prince?"

"What makes you think he'll believe us?"

"I'm his friend," Nico answered, hating the way the word felt like a lie.

Dinner was the usual fare: which meant there was plenty of food and even more plentiful gossip. Nico ate his meal in silence, only looking up from his plate when Leo left his side and a brown-haired girl took his seat.

"Hello," She said, cautiously. "Nico, isn't it?"

Nico nodded.

"I'm Piper McLean, from Artemisium."

Nico raised an eyebrow, curious where this conversation was going.

"If you don't mind," She fidgeted a little in her seat. "I'd like to ask you a few questions about the prince, since you're his favorite and all."

Her voice wasn't loud by any means, but everyone within hearing distance suddenly shut up, obviously listening in.

"Um, okay."

"Thank you!" She smiled gratefully, before her expression turned serious. "Well, first, what kind of gift did you get the prince?"

"A necklace," He answered, knowing he couldn't tell them it had been fake. "It was expensive."

"What did it look like?"

"It was… linder and adamas."

"What did you and the prince talk about?" Another girl asked, not the least bit ashamed of her eavesdropping.

Hers was a tricky question. Nico didn't think his deal with the prince was something he should be telling people about. Leo was the person closest to him and even he didn't know.

"Nothing much," Nico lied.

"What do you mean nothing?" She pressed, the slightest hint of irritation creeping into her voice.

"Just… the usual."

Her eyes widened in disbelief and she snorted, looking outraged.

"If he doesn't want to talk about it, then it's none of our business, Miranda," Piper said, trying to calm the girl.

"No! He's being selfish!" Miranda slammed her tiny fists against the table, and then she turned to him. "Just because you're the prince's favorite…!"

"You can't keep him to yourself!" Another girl yelled. "You won't be his favorite forever!"

Nico cringed and pushed his chair back, intending to leave. He didn't want things to escalate into another fight. He wasn't going to be sent home, at least not yet. He stood and saw Leo by the doors, talking to a girl with caramel-colored hair. They separated when the doors opened.

A chubby-faced, purple-haired man entered, looking very informal in his tiger-striped shirt and pants. Nico thought he knew him from the first Selection Challenge, but struggled to recall his name.

"That's Dionysus," Piper whispered. "What's he doing here?"

Dionysus, Nico remembered, was the Challenge Director for this year's Selection.

"Alright, attention, attention, Selected," He tapped his foot impatiently. "Tomorrow you will be having your Second Selection Challenge."

Nico wanted to groan. Haven't they had enough excitement for 1 week?

"Head to the lessons room after breakfast, and make sure you brush up on everything Olympus!" As quickly as he'd arrived, he left.

The Selected eyed each other warily, the earlier commotion easily forgotten. They whispered across the table as they tried to guess at the surprise that awaited them the next day.

Nico ran a hand through his hair. He didn't think his heart could handle this much excitement everyday. He needed to find Percy.

Chapter Text

Nico didn't get a wink of sleep the night before and ended up missing breakfast, so he entered the lessons room tired and exhausted. It was set up like a classroom, with a whiteboard and a teacher's desk at the front, chairs arranged neatly into rows, and cameras everywhere, of course. Nico sat at the chair that had his name, noting the whiteboard and marker there, and prayed whatever they were going to do today wouldn't be physical. He didn't think he could run 10 metres without falling on his face.

As soon as the 41 chairs were filled, the prince walked in, wearing his navy blue royal jacket with matching dress pants and thickly-framed black glasses. Some of the Selected's reaction to his appearance made Nico want to blush. The girl to his left fanned herself and the guy behind him sighed.

Following the prince was Mr Dionysus, wearing a leopard-print shirt and a scowl on his face. They went to the front of the room, and Jason sat on the teacher's seat while Dionysus stood to his side.

"Good morning," Jason said, polite and princely.

"Good morning," Came the cheerful, infatuated replies.

"The purpose of the Second Selection Challenge is to separate the true Selection candidates from those who are just Selected," Dionysus explained, quickly erasing the pleasant atmosphere. "And to do that we will be having a game show to test your knowledge of the history, culture, and politics of the Kingdom of Olympus!"

Nico heard the whispers of anticipation.

"The Selected to get the lowest score will not automatically be eliminated," Jason added, much to the crowd's relief. "But bear in mind that I will be taking note of your scores."

"The game will have 3 rounds, easy, medium, and difficult, and a tiebreaker if necessary," Dionysus held up 3 fingers, ticking them off 1 by 1. "After the easy round, only half of you will proceed to the medium round, and after the medium round, only half of that half will go on to the difficult round. The Selected with the highest score for the difficult round wins the game."

"What's the prize?" A girl by the front asked.

"You may request anything of me," Jason answered. "And as long as it is in power to obtain it, I will give it to you."

The crowd went wild.

Even Nico gave a little gasp. He was pretty confident of his knowledge of the country and he thought about what he could ask of the prince. The most obvious answer would be something expensive. Then, he would send it to Hazel and have her sell it.

"For the easy round, you will be given 10 seconds to write down the answer on your whiteboards after I say the question," Dionysus lifted a folder from the desk and opened it. "Let us begin!"

Nico uncapped his marker.

"When was the Kingdom of Olympus officially founded?"

Easy, He thought as he scribbled the date.

"Who was the first King of the Kingdom?"

He almost snorted.

"Which country was the first to become an ally of the Kingdom of Olympus?"

Nico breezed through the easy round, chuckling to himself when Leo whined comically at being eliminated. Reyna and Annabeth both made it through, but Piper missed the cut-off by 2 people. She stood to the side, trying to hide her disappointment by cheering them on.

"For the medium round, you will be given 15 seconds to write down your answers," Dionysus said. "Which province was put under state of emergency a week ago?"

It was Thrace, wasn't it? Nico chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully.

"What crop is most in-demand at the markets this season?"

Nico frowned. It was hard to keep updated with current news, particularly since they were being holed-up with this Selection business.

"Which country is the Kingdom of Olympus' closest ally?" Dionysus clicked on his stopwatch and waited a few seconds. "And stop! The answer is the Kingdom of Othrys!"

Nico looked around. Despite being wrong, Reyna looked proud to be holding up her answer, Amazonian Empire. Annabeth was correct, of course. Beside her was Drew, who had written ME on her whiteboard, surrounded by little hearts.

"Me?" Jason laughed. "What does that even mean?"

"I just think I can be your closest ally," She purred, pleased to have his attention.

Nico wondered how in Olympus she managed to make the word ally sound dirty. He looked to Jason. The prince didn't respond, shrugging off her obvious attempt at flirtations, and Dionysus proceeded to the next question like the Selected around Drew weren't seething with anger and envy.

"King Zeus' brother, Prince Hades, now King of Tartarus, was married to whom?"

Crown Princess Persephone of Tartarus, Nico wrote, briefly wondering how Prince Hades' rumored mistresses felt about that.

The medium round lasted almost half an hour. Nico and Annabeth made it to the difficult round, but Drew had apparently been too distracted to even get a point. Nico felt excitement and nervousness making him a little giddy. Maybe he'd ask for a car?

"For the difficult round, you will be given 15 seconds to answer. However, the questions for this round are a little… different," Dionysus handed Jason the folder he was reading from. "So I'm going to let His Royal Highness take over."

Jason opened the folder, a look of mild surprise and exasperation crossing his features. He raised his eyebrows at Dionysus, who only gestured a hand to the room, telling him to go on.

"First question," Jason didn't sound too enthusiastic. "What is my full name?"

The question caught Nico off-guard. It was only when he heard the ticking of the stopwatch that he came back to senses. This was what Dionysus meant by 'different.' The questions would no longer be about the country, but the prince himself!

Nico cursed as he struggled to remember the prince's full title and failed. His Royal Highness Jason Grace Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Olympus...?

"Stop," Jason said and he surveyed the room, pointing out who gotten the right answers. "Next question. When is my birthday?"

The other contestants laughed as if the question was easy. Nico grimaced, deciding that guessing wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Stop," Jason said again, looking at the whiteboards. He paused when he looked at Nico's answer: January 28. He smiled, clearly amused. "Whose birthday is that? Because it's not - "

"Mine, Your Royal Highness," Nico answered sheepishly.

"It's next season." Jason said thoughtfully.

Nico nodded, watching how the cameras ate up all 15 seconds of their conversation, zooming into his and the prince's faces.

"Next question," Jason continued, to Nico's relief. "Which high school did I go to?"

The best school in the country was easily Zeus University. Formerly named Kronos University, the King's ego made sure it was renamed the moment he was crowned. Nico wrote it down.

"Stop," Jason shook his head at the answers, but the smile remained on his face. "That was a trick question. I was home-schooled by the palace tutors."

The prince asked some more questions - most of which Nico got wrong - before the look of exasperation returned to his features. He sighed and set the folder back on the table.

"Honestly, I don't think it's necessary for the Selected to know these things about me," He shot Dionysus a pointed look, which the other ignored. "I would much prefer it if the Selected and I were to know each other better through the Selection."

"Have it your way, then," Dionysus shrugged and glanced at the scoreboard. "But the winner for this Selection Challenge is still Annabeth Chase."

The prince's sudden display of humility surprised Nico. It seemed there was more to him than what was portrayed by the media. Nico turned to Annabeth, clapping, genuinely happy she had won. The cameras moved, focusing on her and the prince, and what was about to take place.

"Congratulations," Jason walked over to Annabeth and held out his hand.

"Thank you very much, Your Royal Highness," She shook his hand.

"What is it that you would like to request of me?"

There it was - the million-drachmae question - but Annabeth didn't so much as blink. The way they stood and spoke to each other was formal, awkward even, as if they were transacting business and not testing their compatibility, as they were supposed to do.

"I would like to request…" The crowd waited with bated breath. "I would like to request some time with you."

Nico raised an eyebrow. Was a request like that valid? The crowd's outraged gasps told him no, no, she can't do that, but Jason's eyes only widened a little. He schooled his expression, looking mildly impressed by her choice.

"Of course," He smiled. "Why don't you have dinner with me tonight?"

Chapter Text

Dinner was a sad and bitter affair, with half of the table gossiping about how they thought Annabeth's date was going and the other half lamenting how they still hadn't gotten the prince's attention. Nico regretted not taking dinner in his room, like he had done for lunch. At the very least, the attention wasn't on him, like during the other day's meal.

"Nico, by the way," Leo was seated beside him, as usual, but on his other side, there was a girl with caramel-colored hair. He gestured to the girl. "This is Calypso."

"Hello," Nico murmured, "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to finally meet the prince's favorite," She answered, a wicked smile on her face.

Calypso, Nico learned, was a Six who joined the Selection to get away from her farming province of Ogygia. Despite their bantering, she got along surprisingly well with Leo. His eyes softened whenever she spoke, and when she left to talk to her friend Io, Nico moved his chair closer to Leo's.

"Selection Rules forbid us from romantic or sexual interactions with anyone except the prince," Nico murmured in a low voice. "Remember?"

"Of course, I remember!" Leo chuckled, but the laughter didn't quite reach his eyes.

Nobody saw Annabeth until breakfast the next day, which was another free day. She walked into the banquet hall, and heads turned as all conversations stopped. She continued walking, unfazed.

"Here!" Leo waved to get her attention, pointing to the chair across him.

As soon as she sat, she looked sideways, as if to check if the attention was still on her. She coughed into her palm and looked at Leo.

"Do you want to hear about my date?" She asked, her voice loud and clear.

Leo raised an eyebrow, looked at Nico pointedly, and hesitantly nodded.

"The prince wasn't at all like I expected, and there were cameras all throughout the date," She said. "It was nerve-wracking. I had to make sure I was on my best behavior. I was trying to impress him the whole time."

"Must have been hard," Drew, who had been listening intently, nodded her head, pity in her eyes. "Because you're not impressive at all!"

Nico glanced at Leo, waiting for him to say something, but the Four remained quiet. He and Annabeth were staring at each other, as if talking with their eyes. Leo's look was questioning, and Annabeth's was all-knowing. When she turned back to Drew, she looked like she was suppressing a smile.

"What makes you think you're impressive?" She asked, but the way she said made her sound genuinely curious, instead of just mean. "He's been with princesses from other countries before."

Drew looked startled for a moment.

"Don't be so sure of yourself," Annabeth continued. "Remember: one wrong move and you're out."

The Selected started murmuring to each other, their expressions uncertain and doubtful. Every so often, they would glance back to Annabeth, and Nico could almost hear them repeating her advice to themselves, turning and tossing her words every which way, dissecting every meaning.

The atmosphere in the room was tense and nervous, making Nico very tense and very nervous for his upcoming date. He felt relieved when the meal finally ended, and he got up from his seat with Leo. At the hallway outside the banquet room, Leo caught Annabeth by the elbow.

"What are you trying to do?" He asked, uncharacteristically serious.

"In this kind of competition," She shrugged off his hand and looked at Nico. "Your worst enemy is yourself."

As soon as the afternoon bell rang, Nines came barging into Nico's room, carrying racks of clothing and boxes of shoes. A Selection official came with them, recognizable by her uniform. They stationed themselves in the middle of the room and Nico got up from the bed, feeling awkward.

"Good afternoon, Sir. I am the coordinator for your garden date today," She said, although it was clear on her face that her afternoon had been anything but good. "We have prepared an attire for you that complements the prince's outfit."

At that, a Nine stepped forward. She was holding up 2 hangers: one with white shorts and another with a green sports jacket over a mint shirt.

"Do you approve?" She asked.

Nico nodded dumbly, letting out an undignified squawk when the Nines swarmed around him to change his clothes. They tugged at his shirt and pants and Nico blushed to the roots of his hair. Fortunately, he didn't have to protest long, because the Nines were done dressing him and brushing his hair within minutes.

"Now, as per protocol, I will brief you on any concerns you may have regarding your date," She cleared her throat, as if preparing for a lengthy speech. "Firstly, privacy. There will be cameras hidden in the garden and your date may be broadcasted on national television. This is the nature of the Selection. Do you approve?"

Nico nodded. Annabeth had said as much.

"Secondly, security," She continued. "The garden, although outdoors, is as safe as the halls of the palace. So we have decided to station 2 guards at the entrance to the garden. Do you approve?"

Nico wasn't quite sure what exactly she was asking him to approve. He kept quiet.

"If you feel unsafe, we can have the prince's personal guard accompany you on the date from a respectable distance."

"Oh, no, thank you," Nico shook his head. It was enough to have the whole country as his audience, he didn't need a guard watching him from up close.

"Lastly, what is and what is not considered acceptable behavior in the presence of the prince," At this point, she nodded to the Nines, who bowed and hastily left. She turned back to Nico, the look in her eyes almost a glare. "Being Selected doesn't exempt you from the laws of the land."

Nico nodded.

"If you say anything malicious about the Royal Family and the state of the Kingdom, it will be considered treason and you will be punished accordingly."

Nico nodded again, shivering a little.

"Furthermore, as a citizen of the Kingdom, you are required to display loyalty and obedience to the prince," She waved a finger at him. "You are not allowed to deny him any of his requests."

Briefly, Nico thought back to when he had rejected the prince. Maybe that's why the others all looked so horrified. He was committing a crime and he wasn't even aware of it! Nico decided to count his blessings and be thankful he wasn't behind bars… yet.

"One last thing, you are to respect the prince's personal space. You are not allowed to touch him without his express permission."

"What?" Nico remembered the time the prince asked him out and placed a hand on his shoulder. The prince could touch him, but he couldn't do the same?

"You heard me," Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she took a threatening step towards him. "I don't care if he's kissing you or insulting your mother, you are not to touch the prince."

"I-I understand," Nico gulped. Honestly, he didn't know what to be scared of the most: the prince kissing him, the prince insulting his mother, or the Selection official who looked about to ready to behead him.

"That will be all," She glanced at her wristwatch. "In 5 minutes, a guard will come to escort you to the garden."

With that, she turned and walked out his room. Nico sat back on his bed, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He kept on repeating the official's instructions and Annabeth's words in his head. Don't talk about the Royal Family. Don't talk about the kingdom. Don't touch the prince. One wrong move and you're out.

A knock sounded from the door.

Nico stood up and let his mind wander. What were the chances the guard who would pick him up would be Percy? If it were Percy, Nico wouldn't have to go through any of this anymore. He would confess to Percy and go back home and the Selection would be nothing more but a memory.

He looked down at his feet and opened the door.

"Good afternoon," A familiar voice said.

Nico lifted his eyes.

Chapter Text

It was Charles Beckendorf.

"I'm glad you're doing well in the competition!" He smiled, holding the door open.

"Yeah," Nico muttered, crestfallen. He couldn't help it. Sometimes, he felt as if he were chasing after the moon, with everything slipping through his fingers, as if his participation in the Selection was for naught.

"What's wrong?" Charles asked, noticing his expression. "Nervous? Don't be. The prince is a good guy."

They walked down a set of stairs and across the hallway, passing by the lessons room and the banquet hall. Nico was torn between his anxiety and disappointment, and he ran his hands through his hair helplessly.

"How is Silen - I mean, Ms Beauregard - how is she doing?"

"Huh?" Nico blinked, confused by the topic and suddenness of the question. He remembered the fight from the other day, and a girl with long black hair and blue eyes. "I think she was close to one of the girls who was eliminated."

"Yes, Ms LaRue."

"She seems pretty sad about that," Nico said uncertainly. He felt weird, talking to someone he didn't know about someone else he didn't know. But at least it got his mind off his nervousness. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing much," Charles turned away, hiding his face. "Just that I'm the guard who responded to the scene, so I feel responsible for everyone involved."

Nico didn't think Silena had been directly involved in the fight, but he didn't say anything. They kept quiet until they reached a two-storey Greek arch guarded by Twos. Beyond the arch, Nico could see the manicured garden. Charles nodded to them and they nodded back.

"Good luck," He said to Nico, before he walked away.

"Please go on, Sir," One of the guards said.

Nico's legs were wobbly and he felt like fainting with every step, but he walked past the arch and into the garden. It was gorgeous, like something straight out of a fairy tale book. The garden had flowers of all colours and the stone paths were lined with red-glazed planters and flowerbeds edged with terracotta tiles. In the middle was an ornately-carved arbour with a built-in seat, beside a three-tiered birdbath made of stone.

The prince was leaning against the birdbath, his face turned towards the sky. The afternoon sun warmed his skin to bronze and made his hair look like molten gold. He was dressed casually in his white polo shirt and navy blue slacks and still he looked regal, godly even.

When he finally noticed Nico, he turned and smiled, his sky-blue eyes crinkling at the corners, and Nico hated the way his heart skipped a beat. It wasn't supposed to do that with anyone else besides Percy. It wasn't.

The prince jogged up to him.

"I'm pleased you could make it."

"Well, I don't really have a choice," Nico muttered under his breath as he followed the prince, who had begun walking back to the arbor.

"What was that?" The prince turned back to Nico, the smile still on his face.

"I said your garden was very beautiful, Your Royal Highness," Nico's cheeks flushed. "My sister would love it."

"It was my mother's garden, her favorite place in the palace," The look in the prince's eyes was fond and tender, and his voice was soft.

Nico averted his eyes, a little startled that the topic of conversation had become so personal so soon. He found it hard to believe that the Queen was the type of woman who grew flowers, but the prince couldn't have been lying. He cleared his throat, preparing an answer for the question he knew was coming.

"What's your mother like?" The prince predictably asked, passing by the arbor and instead walking down the stone path.

"She was a Five, Your Royal Highness," Nico answered, although he honestly didn't want to talk about his family to a stranger.

The prince seemed to pick up on his reluctance, because he stopped walking and turned around to face Nico.

"I apologize," He said, sheepishly. "I don't really have the opportunity to interact with people my age, outside of business transactions and political discussions. I'm not really sure what we should be talking about."

"That's... fine, I guess," Nico shrugged.

"So?"

"So?" Nico raised an eyebrow.

"What should we be talking about?"

"What?" Nico's eyebrows furrowed. Belatedly, he remembered who he was talking to. "I mean, what do you mean, Your Royal Highness?"

He didn't want to talk about his family, but he didn't want to come up with another subject either! Besides, what could he talk about with the prince? They had absolutely nothing in common!

Except one thing, Nico realized.

The Selection.

"How's the Selection?" He asked, cringing at his own question.

To hide his embarrassment, he started walking again, crouching by the chrysanthemums and touching his fingers to the petals. This time, the prince followed his lead.

"The competition has a number of participants with real potential," A thoughtful look crossed the prince's face. "But I don't want to be hasty in making any decisions."

"Why did you ask me out anyway?"

The prince paused.

"Well, you offered to be my eyes and ears on the Selected, so I thought I'd hear what you have to say about them."

"Oh," It was Nico's turn to appear thoughtful, as he went over the events of the week. "You heard about the fight in the commons?"

"Yes, I did," The prince frowned. "I was very disappointed. That kind of behavior won't be tolerated in the palace."

"That wasn't their fault!" Nico blurted out.

The prince's eyes widened a little in surprise and Nico had to remind himself of the Selection official's words from earlier. He was a Selected, but this was the prince. He had to be careful of what he said.

"The thing is," Nico started uneasily, calming himself. "The fight wasn't their fault. They were provoked, Your Royal Highness."

"It doesn't matter," The prince shook his head. "They have to take responsibility for their actions."

Nico opened his mouth to argue, but then thought better of it. He wanted Drew to be punished for what she did, but he knew the prince wouldn't hear it. He had no proof or anything. Besides, he was here because he had a job to do.

"There's this one girl who really likes you," Nico racked his head for her name. "Piper, I think. Maybe you should ask her out next time?"

"I remember her!" The prince's eyes lit up.

"Ask her out?"

"I would love to," The prince sighed then, running a hand through his hair. "But what are we going to do? I can't even get this date right!"

"Do the same thing you did with Annabeth?" Nico knew it was a stupid suggestion, considering how Annabeth had been that morning, but he had never been on a date before this one. How was he supposed to know what to do?

"Annabeth, she…" The prince pulled a face. "I don't know how to say this. I don't think we can work for each other."

"You're saying that after 1 date?"

"That date felt like a board meeting!" The prince shook his head. "And she looked more interested in my guard."

"Well, what were you expecting?"

They had reached the part of the garden with flowering trees and Nico ducked a low-hanging branch. The prince raised it above his head and out of his way, and flowers came showering down onto their heads, swaying with the wind.

"Something romantic?" The prince shrugged.

"Um, holding hands?" Nico supplied helpfully. "Kissing?"

The prince opened his mouth to answer, but then his eyes moved to a point above Nico's head. He closed his mouth, frowning a little, and stepped closer. He reached out towards Nico with his right hand.

Nico blinked, confused. He froze when he realized the prince's face was getting close to his. The prince was too close, and Nico suddenly remembered the official's words: he couldn't deny the prince anything. He couldn't deny the prince anything and the prince wanted something romantic and Nico had just suggested kissing.

Nico panicked.

And kicked the prince in his royal jewels.

Chapter Text

"What - in - Olympus!" Jason wheezed and crumpled to his knees, hands on his crotch.

From where he was kneeling on the garden floor, he could see Nico's feet backing away step by step. Jason gritted his teeth and tried not to think of the overwhelming pain. Instead, he focused on controlling his breathing and cursing everyone in existence to the underworld and back and to the underworld again. After what seemed like an eternity of agony, he leaned against the nearest tree and got back on his feet.

"What are you doing!?" He seethed, glaring at Nico, hoping against hope that there weren't any hidden cameras nearby.

"I… I thought…" Nico visibly paled, placing a hand over his mouth. He kept backing up.

"You thought what?" Jason couldn't keep the venom out of his voice. "You thought what?"

"I thought you… you were going to k-k-kiss me," Color rushed to Nico's face. He turned bright red, blushing to the roots of his hair and Jason thought it would've been adorable any other time.

Any other time but now.

"What?" For a moment, Jason was simply dumbfounded. "Kiss you?"

His mind visualized the scene for him: his hand tangled in dark hair, flowers falling around them like raindrops, his lips on Nico's pink ones. His breath hitched in his throat and Jason felt the beating of his heart speed up. He pushed the image to the back of his mind, startled by his own reaction. What was going on with him?

Nico had pressed himself into the bark of a tree, looking utterly mortified. His eyes were darting around, searching for an escape. He looked like he was going to either bolt into the forest or become part of the tree.

"I'm sorry!" Nico shrieked.

"You should be," Jason said coldly. "I should have you eliminated right now."

"Please don't!"

Despite himself, Jason found that he didn't want to have Nico removed from the Selection. It wasn't like him to be this lenient. He was Jason, the Prince of Olympus. He rewarded those who were deserving and meted out punishment when punishment was due. Still, Nico was his friend and insider into the Selected, and the sight of him panicked and worried made Jason's chest tighten.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you eliminated," Jason drew himself up to his full height, putting up a tough front he didn't feel.

"I… I," Nico looked just about ready to cry, but he cleared his throat and looked at Jason in the eye. When he spoke, his voice was steady. "I know I don't deserve it, but if you give me a second chance… I'll do… a better job of helping you with the Selection."

Jason looked at Nico and wondered how it was that he had already forgiven him. Maybe what he was asking from Nico wasn't a reason, but an excuse, an excuse so Jason wouldn't have to think too much, wouldn't have to be too confused.

"I promise," Nico added, lowering his eyes.

Jason walked towards Nico, frowning, hands balled into fists. He raised a hand, making Nico flinch, and Jason decided that wasn't the kind of reaction he wanted from the latter. He sighed and reached up, plucking the flower that had fallen into Nico's hair. Nico's eyes widened. He covered his mouth and didn't say anything, but the red of his cheeks spoke volumes.

"There was a flower in your hair," Jason said, flicking the flower to the ground, before he turned away. "Go back to your room."

"Why can't I get these dates right?" Jason groaned, tugging at his hair with one hand as he sagged down onto the wingback chair in his room.

"Probably because you've never dated before," Percy answered nonchalantly, perching himself on top of the prince's pedestal desk.

"Yes, I have."

"Oh, yeah!" Percy jumped off the desk and whirled around to face Jason. "When are you asking Annabeth out again?"

"You mean, when are we holding the next board meeting?"

"Hey! She's not that bad," Percy said, almost defensively.

Despite himself, Jason snorted. Percy was so easy to read. He was easily distracted, too, switching from one topic to another.

"I really can't believe he'd kick you."

"I can't believe it either," Jason shook his head.

"Nico's really changed," The look on Percy's features was so nostalgic Jason had to do a double-take.

"You know him?"

"Yup, because he lives in the province next to mine," Percy nodded, grinning. "He used to be this really cute, quiet kid. I guess he's all grown up now, huh?"

"He's the one I told you about," Jason said, more than a little curious at his discovery. He couldn't help it, he was interested in Nico. "The Selected who came here to look for someone - it's him."

"I haven't been home in a while, but I know Nico lives with his sister. His mother died years ago." Percy put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe he's looking for his dad?"

"Why would he look for his dad in the palace?"

"His mother was a famous Five, you know," Percy wagged a finger at him. "So there were rumours that Nico's dad must've been a high number. Maybe, a Two. Who knows, maybe even a One."

For a second, Jason suddenly remembered all his father's mistresses and lovers. Who knew how many half-brothers and half-sisters he had out there, hidden by Zeus? An impossible idea entered Jason's head then, and in a panic, he thought of Nico and his father, placing their portraits side-by-side in his mind. No, he thought, Nico didn't look like his father. Nico didn't look like him.

They couldn't be siblings, the Selection officials would have checked, it was impossible.

"Oh, I've got an idea!" Percy exclaimed, snapping Jason from his troubling train of thought.

"Yes?" Jason asked, rubbing his temples, exhausted all of a sudden.

"You should continue asking out the other Selected, so you can get to know them and you'll learn how to date," Percy smiled triumphantly.

Jason nodded, too tired to think.

"So, tomorrow…?"

"No, the Olympus Royal Report will be tomorrow. But, the day after that…" Jason closed his eyes.

"Leave it to me!" Percy declared, cutting off the prince. "Don't you worry, Jason, I'll make sure you enjoy this date!"

Chapter Text

The walk back to his room was a death march, and with every step Nico had to resist the urge to lie down, curl up into a ball, and cry. It was his first date with the prince and he completely and absolutely blew it. He had screwed up his only chance of seeing Percy. He was going to go home.

His room was blissfully empty when he returned. He slumped down onto the chair by the balcony and buried his face into his hands, groaning. At least he hadn't been kicked out immediately. He moved to the bed, savoring the feel of the silk sheets on his skin, the softness of the pillows.

A few moments after the evening bell, frantic knocks sounded at his door. Nico got up listlessly, wondering if they were going to make him pack up his things. However, when he opened the door, Leo came barreling into the room.

"I knew you'd be here," He said, triumphantly, grabbing Nico by the arm. "We have to go!"

"What!?" Nico spluttered, and then he was being dragged out of his room and into the hallway.

Leo broke into a run, his grip on Nico's arm almost vice-like, and Nico had to focus on not tripping over his own feet.

"Where are we going!?" Nico shrieked as they leapt down the staircase, his hand failing to find purchase on the gilded railing.

"Mr D says he's announcing something important," Leo answered, his voice almost a shout.

Nico almost slipped on the last step of the stairs. Was Mr D going to announce his elimination to everyone? Nico prayed that the prince kept what happened in the garden between the two of them. If he were going to go, he wanted to at least go gracefully!

When they finally reached the main hall, Leo shoved the door open and Nico saw Dionysus walking up a stage. The Selected were standing around, some in groups, some alone, but all of them looked anxious. Leo pulled Nico inside and they shouldered their way through the crowd.

"Good evening, everyone," Dionysus greeted, with that same indifferent, uncaring tone. "You've all been here a week now, you've experienced 2 Selection Challenges already, and in that time 9 Selected have lost that status. Tomorrow, you will finally debut in the Olympus Royal Report."

Leo gasped, as did the rest of the crowd. Soon, everyone was cheering. Nico didn't know how to feel. On one hand, he wanted Hazel - and maybe Percy - to see him on national television. On the other, he didn't want to be eliminated live!

"Be back here ten minutes before the morning bell tomorrow for rehearsals," Mr D said, as he prepared to leave. "You go live at 8."

The next morning was a flurry of activity. The main hall had been converted into a huge dressing room with rows of mirrors, swivel chairs in front of them, and racks of clothing. The Selection officials were all shouting, saying things like, "It doesn't match her hair!" or "The shoes are too small!" Some of the Selected were in cotton robes, while the others were already dressed up in pastel-colored gowns and well-fitting suits.

Nico had always had trouble waking up early, so he arrived almost an hour late. He stood at the doorway, frozen by the scene in front of him. It reminded him too much of the market they visited for the first Challenge.

"There you are, Mr di Angelo!" An official ran up to him, a clipboard tucked under her arm. "We were already thinking of sending someone up to your room."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," Nico almost shuddered.

"Of course we do!" She chirped back. "Can't miss the prince's favorite!"

Nico grimaced at the title, but least it seemed word about what happened last night hadn't spread yet. The official led him through the room and had him stand by a swivel chair with 6 at the back. Then, she turned to the rest of the room and cupped a hand around her mouth.

"Mr di Angelo at Station 6!" She yelled.

Instantly, a group of women wielding brushes and combs appeared. One of them handed Nico a robe and another pulled along a divider and put it between the chair and the mirror, providing a little privacy. Nico quickly changed into the robe and wrapped it tightly around himself, uncomfortable.

The divider was folded back and Nico was forced into the chair. Immediately, one started brushing his hair and another began gently wiping his face with a cool, wet cloth. The third girl worked on massaging his hands, and the fourth turned his face towards the mirror.

"Okay, honey, let's talk about your image," She said, all-business.

"What?"

"How do you want to look, darling?" She tilted his face this way and that. "Do you want to be the shy guy who captures the prince's heart? The loner who sweeps the prince off his feet? What will it be?"

"I… um, I," Nico stuttered, withering under the expectant look on her face and the implication of her words. He had to change for the Selection, had to act like someone he was not.

"Don't change a thing," A familiar voice piped up. "The prince already likes him the way he is."

The girl nodded, mouthing an 'oh.' Then, she barked out a couple of orders to the other girls. Nico turned around to look for the person who had spoken for him and saw Mnemosyne had already moved to another station. He smiled, silently thanking her. He kept quiet as the girls began to work on his make-over.

To Nico's right, a girl was arguing with her official.

"I asked you to dye my hair blonde!" She cried, plunging her hands into her hair and pulling out honey-colored strands.

"That is blonde, Ma'am Io," The official held up an empty bottle of hair dye.

"I want strawberry-blonde! Strawberry! She wailed, getting louder and louder.

Nico was looking at the mirror, and behind him a guy was rifling through a rack of ties, pulling one out, holding it against his dress shirt, and putting it back. The guy beside him was less orderly, grabbing ties and throwing them to the ground afterwards. His official was picking up after him.

"10 minutes to call-time!" Someone announced.

It was like the people went into overdrive, and as if the room wasn't chaotic enough, the crew for the Olympus RR then entered, armed to the teeth with cameras and mics. They filmed everything and everyone, and Nico wanted to hide in embarrassment when the cameras found him while he was getting his face rubbed with moisturizer.

Soon, he was being ushered towards the racks of suits. Nico thrust his hand into the rows of clothing and blindly picked a suit. He handed it to his official, and almost sighed in relief when she approved of his choice.

"You look lovely," She cooed when they were finally done.

Nico stood in front of the mirror, his hair pulled back in a short ponytail, a few loose strands framing his face. Instead of pale, his cheeks were rosy and so were his lips. His eyelashes looked thicker and longer, too! His suit was the color of cream, complementing the glow of his skin.

"Everyone, move to the set! We're rolling in 5!" Came another announcement.

Nico followed the crowd in transferring to the room where they filmed Olympus RR. He recognized the stage, with its 3 thrones to the side, and the podium with the national emblem of the Kingdom. Hermes was walking around, script in hand, reciting his lines to himself. On the other side of the stage were the rows of 3-tiered seating for the Selected.

"Sit anywhere you like," Mr D said, entering the room with the Royal Family.

Everyone dropped into bows and curtsies, before the Selected raced to the risers, competing for front-row seats. Nico was more than happy to take a seat in the back, beside Silena. Leo ended up in the front, along with Drew and the girl named Io. In the middle row was Annabeth, Piper, and Reyna.

Nico watched the Royal Family float through the room to their thrones, their every step elegant. The King was looking over the Selected, interest and impatience clear in his posture. The Queen was giving last-minute instructions to Hermes, and the Prince -

The prince was intently looking at him, a thoughtful, unreadable expression on his face.

Nico quickly looked down, his face turning red, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He was excited and nervous at the same time and he chalked it up to the Selection. But deep down inside him he knew it wasn't just the competition making him feel this way.

"3, 2, 1," Mr D signaled Hermes. "And we're rolling!"

The national anthem started playing.

Chapter Text

Hazel arrived outside the Services Office to the sight of a massive standing crowd and to the tune of the national anthem playing. Fortunately, the people recognized her and they parted like a sea to make her a spot in the front. Hazel graciously thanked them as she went. In turn, they told her how proud, how hopeful, how excited they were for her brother.

By the time the anthem ended, she was already in front, right in the middle, the screen projected on the wall looming over her. She sat and smiled, preparing for what she knew would be the best show of her life.

Hermes appeared on screen, standing beside the stage's podium and wearing a teal tailcoat.

"Olympian ladies and gentlemen, 'tis I, Hermes your messenger, bringing you the show of the week, the show of all shows," He boomed. "Olympus Royal Report!"

The girls in the crowd squealed.

"Last week, ladies and gentlemen, we made history for the Kingdom of Olympus," He said dramatically, his voice sombre. "Last week, we showed you the 50 incredibly lucky boys and girls who have been chosen to participate in the Selection."

The camera panned out, showing the stage from edge to edge. On the left side was the Royal Family seated on their throne. But the lights on the right were out, leaving that part of the stage dark. Hazel felt anticipation welling up in her chest; she didn't have to be a genius to know who would be sitting there.

"Today, we celebrate the first week of the Selection!"

Hermes raised his hands above his head and clapped vigorously. The crowd followed his example, and soon the sound of applause filled Hazel's ears.

"The first week we saw 2 Selection Challenges and 9 Selection Eliminations," The host continued, walking closer to the Royal Family and the side of the King's throne. "Now, why don't we hear what the Royal Family has to say about the Selection so far? Your Majesty, how's the week been going for you?"

"Wonderful! Absolutely fantastic!" The King smiled, his teeth showing. "The palace hasn't been this lively in years!"

"Does Your Majesty have a favorite Selected?"

"Of course!"

Hermes and Zeus shifted closer to each other, about to share in the secret. To nobody's surprise, Hera leaned closer to them as well.

Hazel burst out laughing.

Zeus leaned back in his chair, a troubled expression on his face.

"Maybe some other time," The King murmured.

"Agreed," Hermes nodded. Quick as lighting, as if the past couple of seconds didn't happen, he plastered a smile on his face and turned to the Queen. "How about you, Your Majesty? Any thoughts on the past week?"

"A lot of thoughts," She answered. "First, I have a message to those who were eliminated this past week. Treasure the time you had as a Selected, as limited as it was. The people will continue to look to you as role models for citizens of the Kingdom. Hold your head high.

Second, to my beloved son the Prince, I commend you for your decisiveness. It is my wish that you go through the Selection with both your head and your heart as your guide.

Lastly, to the remaining Selected, the Selection is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and opportunity. You are all 9 steps closer to the Crown, 9 steps closer to becoming the next Child of Olympus. The country is watching you, and so am I."

That last part sounded more like a threat, but Hazel thought it was an pretty okay speech for someone like the Queen.

"And now, let's go to the man of the hour!" Hermes sauntered over to the Prince. "How are you this fine day, Your Royal Highness?"

"I'm very well, thank you for asking," The prince answered, ever the epitome of grace and politeness.

"This is the first time the Selected will be on Olympus Royal Report, isn't it? Are you excited?"

"Very," The prince didn't look the least bit excited.

For a moment, Hazel felt for Hermes. The prince could talk a mile a minute if it were about the 'affairs of the state' or 'the plight of the people.' But ask him something personal, and he'll start talking like an etiquette book and giving one-sentence answers.

"Let's not keep the people waiting any longer, then," Hermes swept an arm towards the darkened side of the stage. "Presenting, the Selected for the Kingdom of Olympus' 31st Selection!"

Spotlights danced across the floor, the crowd went wild, and Hazel saw the elegant Selected in their gowns and suits. They glittered like stars with their jewelry, flashing their pearly whites as they beamed. She held her breath and scanned the faces, until she saw her brother.

Nico was seated at the back, wearing a cream-colored suit, his face twisted as he tried to smile.

And failed.

Hazel clasped her hands together. Her chest felt so light she thought she'd float. She knew that look; he was nervous beyond belief and trying desperately to hide it. She missed him all over again.

"My, my, my," Hermes made a show of wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. "Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?"

He turned back to Jason, who hadn't reacted in the slightest.

"Have you been enjoying everyone's company, Your Royal Highness?"

"Well, yes," The way the prince said it was almost hesitant.

"Oh? Has anyone over there - " Hermes jutted his chin towards the Selected. " - Been giving you grief?"

"Of course not," Jason said, firmly.

But not firmly enough for Hermes. The host kept goading and goading, and even the Selected joined in. The prince looked unaffected, but Hazel knew he must be feeling uncomfortable. Finally, Hermes just shrugged and whispered something into his lapel.

"Since the prince won't tell us himself, why don't we just watch?" Hermes pointed to the screen behind the stage. "And play!"

Just before the screen shifted, Hazel saw the look on Jason's face morph into an expression of pure shock.

The scene changed then, from the set of the Olympus Royal Report to the dirt path of a beautiful garden. Jason was standing under a row of flowering trees, reaching forward with his hand. Opposite him was -

Hazel put a hand to her mouth.

- Nico, frowning, a confused look on his face. Jason moved closer and closer, oblivious even as Nico went from baffled to panicked to scandalized. Jason lifted his hand towards Nico's head. In return, Nico lifted a leg and kicked him in the groin.

Hazel gasped, as did the rest of the crowd with her. Suddenly, the scene was back to the stage. The Queen looked furious, the King mildly amused. Hermes was roaring in laughter. Jason, as usual, looked calm and composed.

"What happened!?" Hermes asked, doubling over.

"It was just a - " The prince began.

"Nuh-uh! We aren't asking you," Hermes wagged a finger at Jason, grinning. He turned to the Selected, who were either giggling like children or gaping like fish. "Come on down, Mr Nico di Angelo!"

Nico rose from his seat obediently, like a robot, his face so pale his cream-colored suit looked red. His steps were stiff and awkward. He walked towards the center of the stage, where some staff were pushing 2 lounge sofas across each other. Nico sat down, his back ramrod-straight.

"So what happened, Mr di Angelo?" Hermes sat himself across Nico, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"I, um, we, well, I thought," Nico stammered. He looked so lost and helpless, like a deer caught in the headlights and about to be run over.

Hazel wished with all her heart that she were there to cover him from all those curious, judging eyes. She pursed her lips in frustration, watching as he struggled to find words that wouldn't come. Suddenly, the prince entered the frame and casually sat down beside Nico.

"It was just a misunderstanding," The prince explained.

"Oh, so are you the one giving this young man grief?" Hermes asked.

"No! It was my fault!" Nico blurted out.

"Darling, do tell us."

Nico looked to Jason as if to ask permission. The prince nodded.

"It is my fault," It seemed Nico had found his words. "You see, when he was getting close, I kind of... panicked. I thought he was going to um, k-k-kiss me, so I kicked him."

By the time he was done speaking, Nico had turned redder than a tomato.

"Well, were you going to?" Hermes asked the prince. "Were you going to kiss him?"

The prince glanced at Nico, who was still looking at his lap.

"Not on a first date," Jason answered, the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

And the crowd erupted into cheers.

"He's going to win!" Someone shrieked beside Hazel.

"Yes!!" Another girl squealed.

"That's my son!" The King shouted off-screen.

Unsurprisingly, Nico just looked dazed, as if he had no idea what he was hearing.

"Oh ho ho ho, what's this, Your Royal Highness? Favoritism?" Hermes leaned forward in his seat, his eyes eager and hungry.

"Oh no, it's nothing like that," Jason shook his head a little too quickly, his mask of calm slipping the tiniest bit. "I just think it would be very rude to be so forward on a first date. With anyone."

"I see, I see," Hermes murmured. "And you forgave him? That kick looked like it hurt."

"It did! It hurt a lot," Jason laughed. That was new. "But yes, I did."

Nico looked up at the prince, surprised and relieved.

Hermes caught the look.

"Is this the first time you're hearing this, Mr di Angelo?"

"Yes," Nico quietly said. "I honestly thought I was going to get eliminated."

"Well, why did you decide to forgive him, Your Royal Highness?"

"Of all the Selected, Nico's the one I'm closest to right now," Jason answered, voice uncertain. That was also new. "He's a valuable… friend."

"Thank you so much, Mr di Angelo," Hermes shook Nico's limp hand, before turning to Jason. "Stay there, Your Royal Highness. Why don't we call on the winner of the 1st Selection Challenge, Ms Zoe Nightshade!"

Nico stood from the sofa, looking shaken. As he walked away, Jason's warm, concerned eyes trailed after him. Hazel wanted to smile at that. But just as Jason turned his attention to the next Selected, Nico looked at the prince over his shoulder. And Hazel knew that look.

It was the same look Nico had on his face after Percy rescued them from rebels.

It was the same look Nico had on his face whenever he thought about Percy.

"Oh," Hazel said softly, realization dawning on her.

If Nico wasn't in trouble before, he certainly was in trouble now.

Chapter Text

Nico walked back to his spot on the tiered seating on shaky legs. In the front row, Leo was giving him a thumbs-up. The rest ignored him and continued staring straight ahead at the cameras.

"Good job," Silena said.

Nico felt like he was being mocked, but the look in her eyes was honest and sincere.

On the stage, Zoe was talking about her gift, a tapestry of some constellation the Queen liked so much she hung it in the Women's Room. After Zoe came the winner of the 2nd Selection Challenge, Annabeth. Annabeth smiled and laughed and was generally much nicer than normal. Then, Hermes called Silena and asked her to tell what happened between Clarisse and Lacy, the girls who had been eliminated for violating the no-fighting rule.

Nico sat still, too stunned to actually see or hear anything. He didn't even know how much time had passed. All he knew was that he wasn't going to go home. He was going to stay here. He could continue looking for Percy!

Nico frowned, something about his equation not adding up. He wasn't looking for Percy, was he? He was just here in the Selection, participating as a Selected, hoping to blindly stumble into his hero somewhere along the way. Why did he want to stay here so much then?

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today," Hermes suddenly said, his voice particularly loud. He turned to the prince, to them, and then the cameras. "Thank you so much, Your Royal Highness. Thank you, lovely ladies and gentlemen of the Selection. Everyone, tune in next week for another hour of the Olympus Royal Report!"

"And cut!" Mr D hollered, appearing in front of the stage. "Selected, you're free for the rest of the day."

Some of the Selected immediately left the room, probably to get changed. The others, like Leo and Drew, stayed to strike poses for the cameras and talk with the media. Reyna was chatting with the Queen, Io with the King. Nico stood slowly, trying to reorient himself. Minutes later, he left the room and all its camera flashes and noise behind him.

The hallway was much quieter and Nico stayed there, leaning against the wall hung with paintings. He ran both hands through his hair, dreading the camera flashes and the noise he knew would be in the dressing room. But he didn't want to stay in this make-up and formal clothes forever. He pushed himself off the wall and started walking.

"Please wait," A voice called out.

Nico turned around.

"Your Royal Highness?" He murmured, before quickly dropping into a bow. "Thank you for letting me stay in the Selection."

"I meant what I said back then," The prince said. "You're a valuable... friend."

"Thank you," Nico repeated, because he didn't know what else to say.

"I wanted to ask... if you were okay."

The prince's voice was soft but steady, his eyes worried and searching Nico's own. The way he stood was slightly hunched, because he arched towards Nico as if to envelope him. All of a sudden, Nico couldn't see the flashing of cameras anymore, couldn't hear the noise of the people.

"I'm okay now," Nico whispered, surprised that he actually did.

"I'm sorry about what happened," The prince lowered his eyes, ashamed. It was a weird and unusual expression to see on him. "I didn't think they would do that."

"It's not your fault," Nico shook his head. He didn't want the prince to make that kind of face. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Don't be."

"Okay," Nico nodded, suddenly eager-to-please.

The prince smiled, an honest, elated smile that created crinkles at the corners of his blue, blue eyes and made him look like a boy instead of a prince.

Nico averted his eyes, embarrassed. He felt self-conscious, hyper-aware of how close the prince was to him. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear and cursed under his breath when it slipped back.

"Let me," The prince offered, his voice merely a whisper.

He leaned forward, closer and closer, until they were only a meter apart. He swept the tips of his fingers along Nico's cheekbone, then his jaw, before he pressed the lock of hair between his fingers and behind Nico's ear. When the prince finally stepped back, Nico let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"That's all I came to say," The prince said, but he didn't move an inch, his eyes still lingering on Nico.

"I will fulfill my promise," Nico blurted out, not wanting the moment to end.

"Well, I think I do need to hear what you think about the Selected," The prince's eyes twinkled with mirth. "So would you like to take a walk through the gardens with me?"

"Yes," Nico smiled. "Anytime."

The prince returned the smile. Then, he turned his back and walked away. Nico realized he'd been nothing but half-hearted this past week. He wasn't whole-heartedly looking for Percy. But he wasn't whole-heartedly participating in the Selection either. He couldn't go on like this. He had to choose.

Nico had always had his doubts about Percy being in the palace. In the week he'd been here, he'd never seen a glimpse of his hero, never even heard a whisper of his name.

But the prince was here.

The prince was here and he was kind, and understanding, and gentle. The prince was here and he rescued Nico when he thought he was going to be eaten alive. The prince was here, and maybe that's why Nico wanted to stay here, too.

Nico remembered his promise. He was going to help the prince with the Selection, that's what he said. It seemed like the smartest thing to do at the time. But now he felt greedy. He wanted more.

He wanted the prince.

Chapter Text

The second week started with the 3rd Selection Challenge, which was how Nico found himself in the palace kitchen wearing an apron and with flour all over his face.

"Can you tell us what you're making?" Hermes asked, shoving a mic in front of his face. A cameraman was trailing after him.

"It's, um, a traditional Tartarian pastry," Nico answered, exasperated. The thing in his hands looked less like pastry and more like a disaster.

"What's it called?"

"Zeppole," Nico gritted his teeth in frustration, the word coming out of his mouth like an angry curse. He resumed pounding his fists onto the dough on the counter.

Hermes smiled nervously, before slowly backing away to the Selected stationed in the counter in front of Nico. Her name was Katie Gardner, and she had brown hair that matched her apron. Although she was a Six, Nico could smell the delicious aroma wafting from the oven where she was baking herb bread.

"Smells like wife material!" Hermes joked loudly.

A dozen pair of eyes turned to glare at Katie. The girl beside her started beating her eggs faster, and the boy on the other side turned up the flames on his stove. Hermes sauntered away, ignoring them both.

"Time's up!" Mr D declared around half an hour later. "Hands in the air!"

Nico raised his hands and lowered his eyes to the lump of failure on his counter. Hazel always did the cooking at home; he never had any reason to learn. Moments later, the prince entered, in his usual white royal jacket.

Nico frowned.

The prince looked… less composed than usual. From what Nico had seen, those were the prince's only emotions when he was in public: very composed, composed, and less composed. But when it was just the 2 of them, the prince laughed and got angry and pulled faces. Nico didn't want to get his hopes up, but he couldn't help it. He felt as if he were special to the prince.

"Good morning," The prince greeted, but he wasn't smiling.

"Good morning, Your Royal Highness," They answered.

The prince ran a hand through his golden-blond locks, scanning the room. Mr D was right beside him, urgently whispering into his ear. The prince nodded and turned his attention back to the Selected. Mr D did the same, looking uneasy.

"The prince will be judging the dishes you have cooked," Mr D said. "Please move to the front of your counters."

At that, the prince started walking. Nico walked around his counter, too. The Selected at the front presented their plates giddily and the prince took small bites with a different spoon for each dish. Sometimes, he would drop a compliment like, "It's very good." Often, he would just give a polite smile. He didn't look like his heart was into it.

The only time his behaviour deviated was when he tasted the dish of a Two named Chris Rodriguez. He looked at the dish, then back at Chris, then nodded at Mr D. For some reason, Chris didn't look too happy his dish was getting recognition. His eyes kept darting around the room.

By the time the prince had reached Nico's row, the prince's expression had dropped 2 more levels on what Nico likes to call the 'Jason Composure Scale.' His brows were slightly furrowed and his blue eyes looked a little bit duller. When he finally stopped in front of Nico, his lips were pale.

"Are you alright, Your Royal Highness?" Nico asked, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

The prince startled at the question, and he looked at Nico as if he were seeing him for the first time.

"You don't look alright," Nico continued.

Instead of answering, the prince picked up Nico's dish. He smiled a little at the burnt, misshapen bread.

"What's this?" He asked, voice slightly hoarse.

"Traditional Tartarian pastry. But I can't bake," Nico grimaced. "You don't have to eat it if you don't want to."

The prince weakly grinned, like Nico had just made a joke. Seeing the prince smile made Nico want to smile in turn, and he felt the corner of his lips pull up. But then the prince's face crumpled. He clutched at his stomach with one hand, the other grasping for purchase on the counter. He let go of Nico's plate.

And then he fell to the floor with a loud thud.

Jason thought the room was too noisy. The air was too cold. The ceiling was too high. And he was in too much pain.

"You - yal highne - " Someone was calling him by his ear.

Jason knew that voice.

He struggled to tilt his head and saw Nico above him. His dark eyes were watery, his lips pulled tight into a thin, trembling line. He looked so distraught, so upset, like he were about to cry. Jason couldn't help but wonder why. He wanted to ask, so he opened his mouth. But his voice wouldn't come. He tried to sit up. His limbs wouldn't move.

That made Jason remember.

Last night, Percy caught one of the guards - Nakamura, wasn't it? - sneaking poison inside the palace. Poison. His personal guard recommended putting off the cooking challenge. But Jason refused. He didn't want to frighten the Selected and let them know something was wrong. What he wanted was to find out who the guard was conspiring with and why they needed the poison.

Now he knew.

Jason recognized the taste of the poison the moment he bit into that Rodriguez's bread. He grew up royalty, after all. When he was younger, he used to take small amounts of different poisons to build an immunity. They gave him horrible stomachaches, made his throat bleed, and sometimes he felt as if he really were going to die. But today he was grateful for them.

Jason bravely kept on going, tasting the other dishes despite the fire in his stomach. He thought he would make it through the Challenge. Unfortunately, the poison was too potent. Or maybe that bastard Rodriguez simply put a lot.

"N-Ni…Ni - co," Jason's throat burned with the effort, but he kept on trying to talk. He needed to ask if Mr D had already arrested Rodriguez. They needed to interrogate him, find out the extent of his plans. What if he was planning on attacking the whole Royal Family?

"It's okay," Nico murmured soothingly, although he still looked extremely anxious. He gently pushed the hair out of Jason's eyes, his fingers cool against the prince's skin. Then, he swept it back with his palm.

Jason could feel himself becoming light-headed.

"You'll be fine," Nico whispered. He leaned down, his face so close Jason could see the brown in his dark eyes. "Everything's alright."

Nico's fingers were in his hair, and Nico's breath was on his lips, and as his eyes slipped shut, Jason thought that yes, for the first time in his life, yes, everything's alright.

Chapter Text

"We can't let you in, Sir!" The guard repeated for the thousandth time, blocking the gilded double-door with his body.

"The prince is indisposed," The other guard said, more calmly.

"That's why you need to let me in!" Nico pushed at the 1st guard's chest. "I need to see if he's okay!"

Nico kept pushing and pushing, but the guards wouldn't budge. He felt a growl rising in his throat. After the prince collapsed back in the kitchen palace, Mr D called in some guards and had them arrest this guy named Rodrigo or Rodriques or whatever. Everyone was panicking, so Hermes ordered them all out of the room.

But Nico stayed. He knelt by the prince and cradled his limp head on his lap. 'It's okay,'  he remembered whispering, although he felt like nothing was. 'You're fine,'  he said, his hands trembling, his vision blurred from unshed tears. 'Everything's alright,'  he lied.

Nico didn't know how much time had passed, but moments later, the guards picked up the prince and carried him away on a stretcher. Nico gave himself a few minutes to calm down, before he chased after them. But somewhere along the way, some other guards saw him and rerouted him to his room.

"The palace is now under lockdown," A guard said, as he gently pushed Nico into his room. "For your own safety, please stay inside your room until further notice."

Nico stared blankly at the closed door. His hand found the knob, but it wouldn't turn. No matter how hard he shook it, the door wouldn't open. Before he knew it, he had began pounding on the door, his mouth open in a scream.

"Let me out! You can't do this!" He hollered, frustrated and angry and confused. He needed to see the prince. He needed to make sure he was okay. He needed to be with Jason.

Minutes later, he heard an answering yell.

"Pipe down in there!" It was the voice of a girl and it seemed to be coming from next door.

Nico shut up, startled.

"Balcony!" Came another yell.

It took Nico a second to get what his next-door neighbor meant. Then, he went for his balcony, not bothering to close the sliding door. The morning air was fresh and crisp, the clear sky a beautiful blue as if nothing was wrong with the world. But on the balcony beside his was a girl with terrified green eyes.

"If you don't stop shouting, they'll hear you!" She hissed loudly, cowering behind the stainless steel railing on her knees.

"They?" Nico got on his knees as well, crawling to the edge of his balcony to see her better.

The fear in her eyes reminded Nico of the lack of emotion in the prince's that morning. The prince's eyes had been dull and blue and resigned, as if collapsing in the palace kitchen in front of dozens of people was just a normal part of his routine. Nico's chest tightened. What had happened to the prince?

"Who's they?"

"I don't know," She answered, eyes frantic. "Rebels. Terrorists. Foreign spies. Enemies of the state."

For a second, Nico thought this other person was crazy. But she was wearing a palace-issued apron and her room was beside his, in the hallway for housing the rooms of the Selection participants, which meant she was just like him - a Selected.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Lou. Ellen. Lou Ellen."

The name didn't ring any bells. But her theory made sense, in a way. The prince was royalty, after all. Surely the Royal Family had an enemy or two or three somewhere.

"They already got the prince!" She suddenly shrieked, plunging her hands into her hair and pulling on the dark strands.

"No," Nico ground out, staring her down as if to dare her to say he was wrong. "He's alright. He's fine. The guards have him."

Lou Ellen looked at him like he were the one who was crazy. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and crawled back to her room. Nico heard her close the sliding door and turn the lock. He shakily got to his feet, leaning on the railing for support, his mind overwrought with panic, thoughts of the prince and enemies and death running through his head.

Nico didn't sleep well that night.

He didn't sleep well the next night, either, and the night after that. Before he knew it, he had been locked up for 3 days. The only people he saw were the Nines who brought him food regularly. He didn't go out to the balcony much, but he always left his sliding door open.

By mid-week, Nico was more than ready to just jump off the balcony if it meant getting out of his room and seeing the prince. Minutes after the morning bell, a knock sounded at his door. He walked up to it, expecting his breakfast. Instead, he saw a guy with blond hair and blue eyes.

But it wasn't the prince.

It was a Two, wearing the same uniform Charles and all the other guards wore. He looked at Nico up and down, and for some reason it was like he was smirking without actually moving his lips. Nico's eyes traveled to the name stitched onto the left breast pocket of his uniform - Castellan.

"The Chief of the King's Guard is making an announcement concerning recent events," He said, briskly. "Please report to the main hall in an hour."

Everyone in the main hall looked nervous. Annabeth was sitting in the front row, her face completely blank. Leo was pacing around, shifting his weight from foot to foot, never standing still. Nico spotted Lou Ellen to the side, chewing on her black nails. Even Drew was skittish, snapping on her followers every time they so much as spoke a word. Nico waited for what seemed like an eternity, before someone finally walked up the stage.

It was an older man, with brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing the same pure white uniform with gold buttons, but below the name on his breast pocket, there were 3 stars. He walked up to the mic stand on the center of the stage, composed and in control, as if he were a member of royalty and not one of their guards. Behind him, by the back of the stage, Nico noticed a row of other guards, all partly-obscured by the dim lighting. 

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Chiron, the Chief of the King's Guard," He began. "Last Sunday, the 3rd Selection Challenge was disrupted because of an incident involving His Royal Highness and other participants of the Selection. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured in the incident. His Royal Highness is now recovering under the care of the physician of the Royal Family, Dr Asclepius."

Nico knew they weren't telling the complete truth - the authorities never did - but just hearing the prince was alright was enough for him. He placed a hand over his thumping heart, relieved, all the tension leaving his body. He wondered when he would see the prince again and hoped it would be soon.

After that, Chiron talked about all the changes in security they were going to implement: more guards and longer patrols and tighter procedures.  Then, he entertained questions from the crowd.

"Can I have my own security?" A girl from the front asked, although the tone of her voice implied it wasn't a request.

"Of course, Ma'am Io," Chiron replied, just as politely and formally as before. "We will arrange for that as soon as possible."

"Actually, I'd like to request my own security, too," Silena said quietly.

"Certainly, Ma'am Beauregard."

For a moment, there was silence. Chiron scanned the room, looking for any other raised hands. Nico slumped back in his chair and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand. The prince had looked sick before he collapsed. Maybe he was ill? But if he were, then what did the 'other participants of the Selection' have to do with it? Silently, he counted the number of Selected in the room. 40. They were missing 1 person.

"Sir," Lou Ellen raised her hand, distracting Nico.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Can I be removed from the Selection?"

Nico's head whipped around so fast his hair scratched his cheeks. However, he wasn't the only one. The others were staring at Lou Ellen with the same wide-eyed shock. People prayed over the chance to be Selected and she wanted to leave? But in a way, Nico understood her desire to leave. She wasn't just scared, there was paranoia fueling her fear.

"That's, um, well," Even Chiron was at a loss. "I will have to consult with His Royal Highness about that. Rest assured that your request will reach the prince."

Lou Ellen nodded. Chiron dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief, before stepping forward to speak into the mic again.

"Now, a message from His Royal Highness," He said.

Nico bolted upright in his seat, his neighbor's request all but forgotten. A message from the prince? His Royal Highness was here?

A guard walked up from the rear of the stage and took Chiron's place. 

Just like that, Nico's world stopped.

It was Percy.

Chapter Text

Percy loved parties, but he absolutely hated formal events.

Like this one.

"Um, hello," He said into the mic, uncomfortable. "My name is Percy Jackson and I'm the personal security for His Royal Highness Jason Grace."

He paused for a while, trying to remember what Jason had said. To calm himself, he scanned the room and went through his normal security routine: determine exits and entrances, locate possibly-dangerous objects, identify people exhibiting suspicious behavior… He took a deep breath.

"His Royal Highness would like to express his deepest and sincerest apologies to everyone - the palace staff, royal guests, and the Selected - for the commotion and confusion," Percy silently congratulated himself for not tripping over the words. "His Royal Highness would like to meet with all of you once he has recovered to see if you have any concerns or questions. He wishes you all well."

With that, Percy took a step back and formally bowed. He returned to the row of guards. After him, other guards gave speeches Percy couldn't be bothered to listen to. His eyes traveled to the crowd and to Annabeth, who was sitting in front, her face a completely blank slate.

Percy pursed his lips, worried not just for her, but for everyone in the palace. They had been interrogating Rodriguez and Nakamura for more than 3 days now, but both of them denied having anything to do with each other. Honestly, Percy wanted nothing more than to just knock their heads together.

Soon, it was Castellan's turn to report on the current state of security. Castellan was a guard who was drafted around the same time as Percy. He was the type of person who was overly-friendly 1 second and hostile the next. Percy never really liked him.

During the guards' meeting yesterday, that Castellan bloke suggested drafting a new batch of recruits. Chiron shot him down, explaining that inviting more strangers in this situation was too risky. Percy knew Castellan wasn't stupid, so what was he trying to do?

The last guard to speak was a newbie named Zhang. He stumbled over his words a little, stuttering and scratching the back of his head. It took a while before he could end the session and dismiss the Selected, but Percy still cheered him on.

The guards lined up and left the hall in a single file. As soon as they were out, Percy stretched his stiff limbs, groaning. The other guards turned a corner and left him behind, leaving the hallway empty.

Before Percy could catch up with them, he felt a grip on the back of his uniform.

He turned around.

It was Nico.

Nico didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know what he was supposed to say. He didn't even know what was going on right now! All he knew was that Percy was in front of him, looking at him, and it was as if the whole world had been reduced to this empty hallway with only the 2 of them.

"Nico," Percy said, a smile on his face and in his voice.

Nico felt himself going weak in the knees. He remembered all the days he had spent missing Percy, the weeks he was worried sick for the Two, the years he filled with longing. He felt the same way he did at the beginning of the Selection, helpless, desperate, the world spiraling out of control.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked, the perpetual grin on his face shifting to an expression of worry.

Nico hung his head, tears slipping down his cheeks. He was a fool to think he could forget about Percy that easily, an idiot to believe he could replace Percy with someone he barely knew. It was stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Oh, hey, don't cry," Percy's voice was softer now, but louder as well, like he had moved closer to Nico.

Nico couldn't help it; the tears kept coming.

"Don't cry," Percy murmured, cupping Nico's cheeks with his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears.

The last piece of Nico's self-control crumbled. He stepped forward and buried his face in Percy's chest, his fingers digging into Percy's back. Percy reacted instantly - he wrapped his arms around Nico and hugged him tightly.

Nico decided he didn't - couldn't - care about anything else, not right now.

He was in Percy's arms, and he felt safe, content.

That was enough.

Percy was reliving a memory.

His body was in a hallway in the middle of the palace, but in his mind he was in Opus several years ago, when the province was under a rebel attack. The only thing that was the same was Nico, with his tear-stained cheeks and trembling shoulders, fingers clinging to Percy for life itself. Percy remembered telling Jason that Nico had changed. Maybe he hadn't, after all.

"Hey, it's okay," Percy was rubbing the small of Nico's back soothingly.

Percy didn't need to ask. He understood. Nico was the one Jason was closest to, and the prince had just survived a possible assassination attempt. Of course Nico would be agitated to tears. Percy wished he could tell Nico of what really happened, if even to ease his worries a little bit, but he knew Chiron would have his head if he blabbed.

"Don't worry," Percy raised his hand from Nico's back to ruffle his dark locks.

Nico had begun whimpering in between sobs, saying short, soft words that Percy couldn't quite make out. It didn't matter; he was probably crying about Jason. Percy just held him tighter, nuzzling his hair, trying to comfort him the best way he could.

With Nico this close to him, the almost-forgotten memories in Percy's mind burned clearer and brighter. He remembered the late mornings he would spend fishing, the nights he went swimming by moonlight, the days he didn't have a care in the world. 

He remembered Nico, too.

When Nico was younger, he would follow Percy anywhere and everywhere, be it the market, the beach, or the forest. But he would be looking down all the time, as if he just couldn't look at Percy directly. Percy would hold his hand and wait for him whenever he fell behind, like a good older brother would.

A world away, the noises in the main hall began to quiet down. Percy figured the Selected were already leaving. He made a face. He and Nico couldn't be seen like this. No doubt someone would misunderstand and get Nico kicked out because of the 'no-romance-with-anyone-not-the-prince' rule. Nico didn't deserve that, not when he was just worried for Jason.

Gently, Percy pried Nico off his person.

Nico looked up at him with wide, hurt, coffee-colored eyes.

Percy tried not to wince.

"People are coming this way," Percy explained, whispering. "I'll take you to your room."

Nico nodded, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand. He was trying not to cry anymore; Percy could tell.

Percy grabbed him by the hand and deftly steered him through narrow, lesser known hallways. Every so often, they'd hear the sound of footsteps or the hum of voices, and Percy would press him and Nico flush against the walls. Finally, they reached the hallway where the rooms for the Selected were.

Nico opened the door that led to his room and stepped into the doorway. He raised his head, looking at Percy with flushed cheeks and eager eyes, his breathy voice coming from slightly-parted lips.

"Will I see you again?" He asked.

It was such an innocent question, but the way he said it made Percy think he was asking something else entirely.

Percy thought of how Nico reminded him of the home he had to leave, how Nico was like a memory of his carefree past, how Nico was a place he couldn't return to, not anymore.

Percy had always liked breaking the rules.

"Yeah," He answered, the smile returning to his lips. "You will."

Chapter Text

The next morning was the first time this week that the Selected were allowed to leave their room and have breakfast together, but all Nico noticed was that Percy wasn't one of the guards accompanying them. Stationed at the doorway were 4 guards, 2 by the door, and 2 behind it. In the banquet hall, some of the Selected already had assigned security personnel. Beckendorf was standing behind Silena, there were 2 guards behind Io - one a T. Stoll and the other a C. Stoll - and Drew had her own little entourage.

"What's wrong, man?" Leo asked, elbowing him in the side.

Nico turned his attention back to his untouched plate of food. He shook his head at Leo, brows furrowed. He thought of yesterday, of the way Percy had embraced him with both arms, of the sensation of warmth filling his chest. He placed his head in his hands, suddenly overwhelmed by his resurfacing feelings.

Percy had embraced him with both arms.

Percy had held him, had murmured nothings into his ear, had run gentle fingers through his hair. Nico hated himself for it, but he knew that ever since that embrace he had begun hoping. He had begun hoping for something more, something louder than murmurs, something closer than an embrace.

"You're not eating?" Leo snatched one of the bagels on his plate.

Nico shook his head again. He didn't have an appetite that breakfast and he didn't have an appetite come lunchtime either. Instead, he decided to stay in his room, needlessly torturing himself by replaying the events of yesterday in his mind over and over and over again. He formed questions that had no answers and anguished over them.

Why did Percy embrace him back? When would they meet again? What was he going to do?

Nico didn't have an answer to the 1st question.

But he did know how to answer the 3rd.

With a start, he stood from the bed. He changed out of his palace-issued dress pants and into his own denim jeans. He switched his dress shirt for a printed black top and he even kicked off his loafers, replacing them with his worn sneakers. When he was finally satisfied that he looked the way he should, he stepped out of his room and went to find Percy.

Jason woke up parched and starving, his limbs stiff from half a week of staying in bed all day. He stood up from his bed, a four-poster king-size with a headboard of pure gold filigree. There were pills and vials of different colors on top of the bedside table and Jason wanted to retch at just the sight of them.

He was naked save for a thin silk robe and he was shivering from the cold, despite all the room's windows being closed - and locked - with the heavy velvet drapes drawn. Jason dragged himself to the marble tiled-bathroom and turned on the hot shower. As the room filled with steam, he took off his robe and folded it, dropping it into the hamper.

The hot water felt good on his body and Jason felt his energy returning to him little by little. In his head, he went over the events of the past days: He had been poisoned, Rodriguez had been apprehended, nobody had been injured, and the guards had implemented new security measures…

It was all good actually, with the exception of his parents. Jason shook his head and sighed at the memory, his wet golden-blond hair sticking to his forehead. Yesterday, Chiron had come into his room and reported that his father the King had begun preparing for war.

"With whom?" Jason had asked, head still throbbing.

"He doesn't know yet," Chiron had answered, face twisting into a grimace.

But the King had already started assembling his forces, calling on his war generals and hastening the production of guns and tanks and bombs. He was far too convinced the poisoning was the work of an enemy state. As for the Queen, she made a show of wailing and crying for Jason, declaring she would never forgive the perpetrator, and then she flew abroad by helicopter the very next day.

Whatever damage had been done, Jason knew he was going to fix it.

He had to.

He turned off the shower and stepped out of the bath. He grabbed a cotton towel from the steel rack in the bathroom and wrapped it around his waist, not bothering to dry his hair. He went to the sink to brush his teeth. When he looked up at the mirror, he was himself again: electric blue eyes, pale pink lips, slightly-tanned skin.

Jason the prince was back.

As Percy skipped down the hallway leading to the palace kitchen, he decided he hated meetings more than anything in the world. Yes, more than normal-colored pancakes and the jackasses they call the King and the Queen. He had just come from a meeting in the guards' hall and he could safely say those were the most boring and most frustrating 2 and a half hours of his life.

The problem was a lack of manpower in the palace due to His Royal Zeus-ness bringing in a third of the guards to the army, coupled with the Selected demanding a number of the security personnel. Chiron asked question after question, but shot down idea after idea. Castellan kept on pushing to draft new recruits, and Nakamura and Torrington supported his stance.

Percy stopped caring after Chiron rejected his 3rd idea.

"Jackson!" Someone jogged up to him, tearing his mind away from thoughts of the meeting.

It was Zhang, huffing and a little out of breath. His cheeks were red as he bent over to put his palms on his knees. Percy slowed down, making a mental note to tell Chiron they needed to up their training regimen.

"One of the maids just reported seeing His Royal Highness in the west wing approaching the grand hall," Zhang paused, suddenly looking awkward. "Chiron has ordered you to, um, retrieve him."

Percy didn't know whether to shake his head or roll his eyes. On one hand, he thought Chiron needed to stop treating Jason like a baby. The guy was over 6 feet and trained in the royal style of swordplay, for fuck's sake. And if he was so worried, maybe he should have given Jason more than 1 guard!

On the other hand, what was Jason doing wandering around the palace? He had just been poisoned! He needed to rest! Percy was going to break his legs and lock him in his room, good God.

"Thanks for telling me, Zhang," Percy sighed, deciding he was going to be irritated at both of them. He cast the steel kitchen doors one last, longing look. "I'm off to retrieve His Jason-ness."

By now, Nico was thoroughly convinced someone up there truly hated him. He stood in the hallway with black-and-white checkered tiles, the walls hung with paintings of the different provinces, frozen in disbelief. He had gone looking for Percy, but instead he had found Jason.

The prince's back was turned to him, but Nico knew it was him. He would know that head of golden-blond hair anywhere.

"H-highness," Nico croaked softly, overcome with emotion.

When the prince fell ill, Nico was beside himself with worry. But then Percy showed up out of nowhere and Nico all but forgot about the sick prince. Now that the prince was standing in front of him, Nico felt like he was drowning, in guilt and confusion and doubt.

Nico wanted to call out to the prince. He wanted to reach out with his hands, feel the prince's skin under his fingertips. He wanted to make sure the prince was okay and he was here and he wouldn't disappear the same way Percy did all those years ago.

But at the same time, he felt like he shouldn't, couldn't. He didn't deserve someone as gentle and understanding and forgiving as the prince. Not him. Not with his half-baked feelings and ratty sneakers and low Number.

Nico swallowed the lump in his throat and didn't move. He pressed his back to the wall, stifling his breathing, hoping the prince wouldn't notice him. The prince started walking away.

And then he turned around.

Jason noticed Nico.

He always did.

He ran his eyes over Nico's black shirt and jeans, curious. Was this what Nico normally wore? Jason felt like he was seeing Nico before he had come to the Selection. He realized that this was the side to the Selected that the palace was trying to hide by issuing dress pants and silk shirts. It was stupid, really, how the Selection officials could be so shallow.

"Nico," He called.

Nico flinched at the sound of his name, before he removed himself from the wall and looked up at Jason.

"I'm... I'm glad you're alright," Nico whispered, but his expression was pained, more than anything else.

It was the exact same expression he wore when Jason had been poisoned, and Jason felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He never wanted Nico to make that kind of face again.

"What's wrong?" He asked, moving towards Nico.

Nico stepped backwards.

Jason stopped, confused and a little shocked. Nico used to let him close enough to brush away hair from his eyes. What had happened?

"Did you fall ill, Your Royal Highness?" Nico said, answering the question with another question. "The others were… really worried about you."

"No, it was poison."

Jason told Nico the truth without hesitation. He trusted Nico and felt a tender sort of affection towards him. He was the Selected Jason was closest to and Jason thought that, at least to some extent, Nico felt the same way towards him. Maybe he had been mistaken... 'The others,' Nico had said. How about him? Wasn't he worried about Jason? 

"Poison?" Nico clutched at his throat, and then he shook his head as if to clear his mind. 

"Nico, what's wrong?" Jason asked again, because he truly wanted to know.

"I - I just... the reason I - " Nico started. "The truth is I - "

"Jason!" Someone called from the connecting hallway, cutting off Nico.

Nico startled, coffee-colored eyes widening as a figure strolled into view.

"Percy," Jason greeted, frowning.

Nico was looking at Percy with a strange expression, something caught between shock and guilt. His lips were parted, mouth slightly open as if he wanted to call out to him. Jason narrowed his eyes, unwanted suspicions building at the back of his mind.

"Nico, hey," Percy greeted the Selected easily.

The casual, nonchalant greeting calmed Jason down somewhat, eased his irrational fears. They were childhood friends, grew up near each other, nothing more.

"Oh, sorry," Percy's green eyes flickered between Jason and Nico. "Did I interrupt something?"

"No, it's nothing, you didn't," Nico blurted out, a little too quickly.

The paranoid, nagging voice in Jason's head became louder.

"You know each other, isn't that right?" Jason didn't know why he asked, when he already knew the answer. 

"Yup, he's from the same area as me," Percy grinned. "I'm glad we saw each other again."

Nico looked up at Percy through his lashes, his expression shy and uncertain, but hopeful. It reminded Jason of how Nico looked in the photo in his official Selection file. 

"I'm rooting for him, too," Percy jerked a thumb towards Nico. "He'll win, I'm sure of it."

Nico's face fell.

"Anyway," Percy turned back to Jason. "Chiron wants you to return to your room."

Jason nodded automatically, distracted.

"See ya, Nico," Percy waved at the youngest. 

Jason didn't hear if Nico replied, didn't see if he waved back, because he had already turned around and started walking away. He didn't know what to make of anything, of everything, of what just happened. When they got to his room, he sat down on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands.

His mouth tasted like poison.

Chapter Text

By the end of the week, life at the palace had returned to normal. The Selected were back to having meals together and spending their free days in the library or the garden or the lounges. But the threat of another attack on the Royal Family hadn't dissipated yet, so the personal guards stayed.

The notes started coming at the beginning of the 3rd week. The Selected would be having breakfast together, maybe lunch, but never dinner, and then a Nine would walk in carrying a silver tray. The Nine would present the tray to one of the Selected, before leaving.

The 1st person to get a note was Lou Ellen. She looked neither happy nor sad about the note and although everyone was dying of curiosity, nobody asked her about it. She was gone by lunch the same day, cutting down their number to 39.

The next person to get a note was Katie Gardner during breakfast the next day.

"It's from His Royal Highness," She sobbed, crying the moment she received it. "I'm getting eliminated!"

But by lunch she was still there, smiling brightly, eyes twinkling.

"What happened?" Everybody asked.

"His Royal Highness wanted to see how was I doing, if I was alright," She answered proudly, looking down her nose at them. "I spent the entire morning with His Royal Highness."

Nico felt a tight knot forming in his stomach.

"I don't believe you," Drew quickly responded.

"You're lying," Nancy Bobofit added.

"It's true. He gave me this," Katie touched her fingertips to the string of pearls at her neck. "It's my prize for winning the last Selection Challenge."

A Six like Katie would be too poor to buy something as precious as a necklace of pearls.

That shut them both right up.

Everyone spent the rest of breakfast speculating. Did she really win the Selection Challenge? Was the necklace really from the prince? Who would get a note next?

That last question was answered by the end of the lunch, when a Nine presented a small, white folded note to Io. She opened the note wordlessly and walked out the banquet hall. Everyone waited with bated breath to see if she would still be there for dinner.

She was.

Her story was the same, too. The prince spent the whole afternoon with her, asking if she was alright and apologizing for causing a scare. The next person to receive a note was Drew, who smiled triumphantly at everyone. Then, it was Silena's turn. After her was Malcolm.

Nico began to notice a pattern. The prince was calling for the Selected who had asked for guards. For a while, he felt relief. He spent his days freely, painting the scenic spots in the gardens, practicing in the music rooms, exploring the palace. During mealtimes, he ignored the Nines delivering notes and they ignored him, too.

However, one day Annabeth received a note. The next meal Reyna did, too. It seemed the prince wanted to see everyone: Leo and Michael Yew and Phoebe and Sherman and Miranda... Everyone except Nico, that is.

Nico tried not to be affected whenever a Nine would enter the banquet hall and walk past him. He tried not to think about what it meant that the prince wasn't asking for him. The prince was better off with the other members of the Selected. They had higher Numbers and were more serious about the Selection. The prince deserved a Selected like them.

It was dinner and Nico continued shoveling food into his mouth, pretending to be blind to the squealing girls comparing the trinkets the prince had gotten them, playing deaf to the guys telling each other what the prince had told them. Dinner was interrupted when the latest Selected to get a note returned.

Piper burst into the room.

Nico stabbed at the cut of beef on his plate with his fork and brought it to his mouth. He looked at Piper, who was almost glowing with happiness. His heart sank. What was it this time? Diamond earrings? The prince telling her she was beautiful?

"My birthday is coming up," Piper announced, clasping her hands to her chest, voice loud and thrilled. "And His Royal Highness is throwing me a party!"

Percy absolutely loved parties and today he was reminded again why.

The grand ballroom was, well, grand.

The glass-top round tables at the sides of the room were set with thin-stemmed vases of bright spring flowers. The backs of the chairs were tied with large, colorful bows. The tiered windows were draped in garlands. In 1 corner was a string quartet, setting a lighthearted mood. By the back of the room was Percy's favorite feature - 2 buffet tables with a large, 5-layered cake between them. The Olympus RR crew roamed the room.

Percy was actually on-duty, but he couldn't help feeling like a guest. He skipped and tapped his foot to the beat of the music, snatching bits of food from the buffet table when he thought nobody was looking. Every once in a while, he'd check on his charge.

The Selected were good party guests. They played along with the games, sung when told, and clapped at all the appropriate times. In the corner was a bevy of girls, chatting animatedly as they lightly touched the fabric of one another's day dresses. Most of the guys were either dancing with the other girls or horsing around. There was a group stationed right beside the buffet table and all of them had plates on both hands.

Percy searched the room for a head of curly, blonde locks.

Annabeth was talking to Silena, who was standing near Beckendorf. Percy did a double-take. He didn't think Beckendorf had been assigned to the party! He strolled over to the other guard, who startled at the sight of him.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked, hand instinctively going to the hilt of the sword at his hip.

Beckendorf said it was nothing; he had just been too distracted to notice Percy. By what? Percy wondered as he walked away and onto the edge of the dance floor. Right in front of him was Leo Valdez with Calypso, dancing to a slow waltz only they could hear. Percy thought of the Selection rules, but this wasn't enough evidence. He decided to turn a blind eye.

"Do it, please!" A female voice, by the stage in the front.

"For us?" A guy's voice this time.

"C'mon," Another female voice, but more insistent.

Percy made his way to the front and found a bunch of Selected surrounding the birthday girl, Piper McLean. He didn't know what was going on, so he waited. It appeared they were asking McLean to do something. Whatever it was, McLean was hesitant, but she eventually gave in. The camera crew was filming the whole thing.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Hermes boomed on his mic as he swept an arm towards the stage, drawing everyone's attention. "The birthday girl, Piper McLean from Artemisium!"

Piper ascended the stage slowly, dramatically, the way a Five was trained to. Unlike the other girls, she was wearing a floor-length gown. The gown was a deep red, hovering near maroon, fitted at the hips and buttoned up at the back. It made satiny smooth waves was she walked up the stairs. Her hair was done up with a row of pearls at the front, resembling a crown. She looked bridal and regal.

Jason needed to see this.

Percy craned his neck, looking for the prince. He saw the Selected standing at attention, waiting on Piper. Some had fanned out their dresses to sit on the floor. Others pulled up chairs. Even the guards were watching. Percy clicked his tongue. Jason was supposed to be here; that was why he had been assigned to the party!

Piper began to sing.

Her voice was clear as ice-melted streams and her song was sweeter than any bird's. She hit all the high notes effortlessly, spinning a tale of love found and lost and found again. The lilting tune lasted for a few brief and beautiful moments. Then, it inevitably ended and the ballroom erupted into applause.

She bowed, the way Fives were taught. When she raised her head again, her eyes fixed onto a spot near the doorway and her mouth formed a little 'oh.' Percy turned and saw Jason applauding with the rest of the crowd, a look of awe on his face. Percy snickered as he watched the crowd part to make way for Jason. What, was the Selection ending already?

"That was… it was…" Jason shook his head, at a loss for words. "That was incredible."

Piper blushed at the sincere compliment and stuttered a 'thank you.' Her voice was soft and quiet, but in the silent ballroom it was loud as a shout. As if under a spell, the crowd remained still as they watched the scene unfolding.

"I want to show you something," Jason stopped at the foot of the stairs and offered a hand to Piper. "If you'll let me."

Daintily, Piper placed her hand in Jason's. In her gown and in his royal jacket, they looked like something straight from a fairytale. They walked through the crowd and to the door, the spotlight and the cameras never leaving them.

Percy watched the audience as Jason and Piper passed. He saw eyes widened in shock, faces reddened in anger, envy behind thin-lipped smiles. He kept his eyes on their hands, just in case anyone tried something, until Jason and Piper were safely out of the room.

Using the door by the side of the room - instead of the one Jason and Piper used - he stealthily followed them out. Hey, it was his job! Besides, he wanted to tease Jason tomorrow.

He opened the door and stepped outside, closing it behind him. The hallway was brightly-lit, with moonlight streaming in from the tiered windows. He waited until the sound of Jason's voice faded in the distance, before he decided to follow them. He turned the corner -

- and walked straight into Nico.

Chapter Text

Jason always thought he would be different from his father. Not better, no, despite everything he'd done for the kingdom, he still couldn't say he was better. Not better, just different.

He always thought he wouldn't make the same mistakes. He wouldn't leave the administration of the kingdom to his teenaged son. He wouldn't try to resolve everything with violence. He wouldn't fall in love with every pretty thing that made eyes at him.

At least, he wasn't supposed to.

"It's beautiful, Your Royal Highness," Piper said beside him, her voice breathy as her eyes drank in the view.

They were on a balcony at the top floor of the palace and beneath them the golden lights of Port Market twinkled like stars. Far below, they could see the docks and the anchored ships, with their white flags tied to the tall posts, their wooden bodies gently rolling with the waves of the deep blue sea. Overhead, the white clouds billowed and covered the sky.

This sight was one of the things Jason truly loved about the palace. When he was here, he felt like he could get away from everything, from his responsibilities as a prince, from the expectations of the country, if even for a little bit. He could lose himself in the bright lights and the white noise. He'd wonder how different his life would be if he were one of the people down there, a shopkeeper, a Four, maybe.

He didn't know why he brought Piper here, but when he saw her up on that stage, with all those lights and cameras focused on her, Jason saw himself. Jason felt for her, because he knew what it was like to be under that kind of scrutiny. He watched her smile under the weight of all those judging stares and he remembered all the times he had done the very same.

"I don't know how to thank you, Your Royal Highness," She looked up at him shyly. "For the party."

Truth be told, the party wasn't Jason's idea. It was Mr D who said they needed to spice up the Selection. Jason didn't want to take all the credit, so he turned to Piper, intending to correct her.

"And for this," She cut him off, gesturing to the area.

She smiled so happily at him that Jason could do nothing but try to smile back. He couldn't admit that the other reason he chose this gift was because he couldn't buy Piper something. He remembered asking a Nine to buy the birthday girl a present, but just before the party the Nine told him the Queen found out and demanded Jason pick a gift himself. Obviously, Jason didn't have enough time for that. He couldn't find a gift and he was late to the party.

Silence descended over them and Jason put his hands on the white railing of the balcony, leaning his hips against them. He tipped his head and discretely glanced at his companion. Piper was fidgeting on her feet, her brows knitted together.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, concerned.

"Oh no, it's just, I was thinking," She chewed on her bottom lip as she spoke. "I know I'm not as famous or as good as the others… but when your birthday rolls around, I'd like to sing you a song. If that's okay?"

Jason blinked in surprise.

Piper was beautiful and thoughtful and modest, and when she looked at him, she made him feel so sure of himself. He didn't know if she wanted him or the crown, but at least he was wanted. At least her gaze didn't pass through him. At least her eyes didn't dart around like she were looking for someone else.

"Of course it's okay," Jason smiled at her, a warmth settling in his chest. He remembered his mother telling him the girl was one of his father's favorites. For once, he agreed with his father's taste.

She blushed at his eager answer, the spots of color high on her cheeks, before she ducked her head. Jason felt a little self-conscious, too, but he wanted those brown eyes back on him, wanted the reassurance that he was enough. He put a hand under her chin and tipped her head up. She looked up at him through long, sooty lashes and stood on her toes, their faces a merely a breath apart.

Unbidden, a memory floated to the front of Jason's mind. He remembered a garden and falling flower petals, and dark hair and dark eyes. He let out an inaudible gasp and started to pull away, startled and more than a little confused. Isn't this what he wanted?

"Piper, I - " Jason moved his hands to hold her back by her upper arms, trying to create distance between them.

"It's okay," Piper whispered, voice breathy. She leaned forward, closed her eyes invitingly, and pressed her lips to his.

"Nico, hey," Percy ran a hand through his hair in frustration, before he increased his pace to catch up to the running teen.

Nico didn't stop or turn around. Instead, he started going faster. He ducked into hallways mindlessly, probably to shake Percy off, and Percy sighed. He's going to get lost, the guard thought, frowning when Nico turned into a corridor that led to the common room for the guards.

"Hey," Percy jogged up to him and tugged him back by the wrist.

Nico spun around, looking up at Percy with eyes that were both angry and confused. His brows were furrowed in obvious distress and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

Once again, Percy remembered the past. When he was younger, Nico used to throw tantrums with that exact same face. He would lash out at anyone who came within hearing distance, and then he would lock himself in his room. Hazel would look for Percy and Percy would slowly but surely coax Nico from his room. Percy took pride in the fact that Nico could never stay angry with him around.

"Come on," Percy murmured softly, dragging Nico behind him and into one of the many unused rooms in the palace.

The room was small by palace standards. It had an unlit fireplace and a low table in front of a divan couch. Percy opted to leave the door open a crack, so he could hear if anyone was passing by. He left the lights off, judging the moonlight streaming in through the windows to be enough illumination. Then, he pushed Nico back onto the couch. He sank onto the cushions beside Nico, rubbing the back of his neck because he had absolutely no idea what to say.

Sure, he was the one who suggested they follow Jason - that was his job, after all. He was the one who insisted Nico go with him, in case things got boring. He was the one who said it would be fun. In his defense, he honestly thought it would be just that - simple and harmless fun.

Percy knew Jason. The prince was painfully polite and reserved and stiff in that way all Ones seemed to be. All of his past dates - a grand total of 2 - had been failures, from the 'board meeting' with Annabeth to Nico kicking him in the groin. Percy didn't think this date would be any different.

He didn't expect that Jason would take McLean to the most romantic goddamned balcony in the whole country, with the stars above and the sea in the distance and the whole fucking package. Percy didn't even know that place existed! Moreover, he didn't expect that McLean would be so forward as to initiate a kiss. But perhaps what surprised him the most was Nico's reaction.

Percy knew Nico was close to Jason. He had held the Eight in his arms when Jason had been poisoned, after all. Percy always thought Nico's concern and worry was that of a friend. But Percy had heard the pained gasp Nico let out when Piper touched her lips to Jason's. Percy had seen the way Nico's shoulders hunched, before he started walking away. Now, Percy wasn't so sure what Jason and Nico had was simply friendship.

"I shouldn't have taken you with me," He admitted, huffing in defeat.

"It's not your fault," Nico quickly said, shaking his head, the dark locks getting in his eyes.

Percy reached for him and ruffled his hair fondly. He wanted to laugh. Why was Nico comforting him when it should have been the other way around?

"Maybe it doesn't mean anything," Percy shrugged his shoulders. "It's just a kiss."

Nico looked up at Percy, surprise etched onto his features, before he averted his eyes. He looked down at the floor as Percy continued petting his hair. Percy remembered how Nico had reacted quite... violently when he thought Jason was about to kiss him. He pursed his lips in thought, moving his hand to play with the fine hairs at the back of Nico's neck.

"Nico, have you ever been kissed?" Percy asked, as casually as he could.

That did the trick.

A rosy blush spread like wildfire across Nico's cheeks. He glanced nervously around the room, before shifting away to the other end of the couch and out of the guard's reach. He opened his mouth, and closed it, and opened it again, stuttering reasons and excuses and explanations. Percy chuckled at the reaction, taking it as an obvious 'no.' He leaned forward, chasing after Nico, who didn't look the slightest bit angry anymore. Percy felt absurdly excited about that, knowing he still had the same effect on Nico.

An idea popped into his head.

"Hey, come here," He beckoned, voice unintentionally dropping to a husky whisper. 

Nico's reluctance lasted all of 2 seconds, before he obeyed. Percy swallowed audibly. It was a risky and terrible idea, really, but he was a man of impulse and instinct. When has a little stupid ever stopped him? Before he could think better of it, Percy reached out a hand and placed it on Nico's nape to draw him closer. He licked his lips in anticipation. He leaned forward.

Around them, the room exploded with the sound of gunshots.

Chapter Text

Jason knew what gunshots sounded like and whatever was happening in the palace right now sounded suspiciously the same. In a breath, he surveyed the immediate surroundings. The balcony was still empty save for Piper and he, but Jason decided they needed to go back now.

Jason pulled forward, expecting Piper to follow him. His mind raced a mile a minute. Protocol dictated that in times of emergencies, all civilians inside the palace were to be evacuated to the reinforced basement. But they were on the top floor, with no way of knowing if the lower floors were clear. When he looked back, he found Piper hadn't moved an inch. She was still as a statue, brown eyes wide with fear, mouth open in a silent scream.

"Piper, listen to me," He ran back to her, stepping into her space. "Right now, the palace is quite possibly under attack. We can't stay here, because it isn't safe. We have to make our way to the ground floor and then to the safe room in the basement. Okay?"

Piper blinked up at him, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"I know you're scared and that's okay," He continued in a soft voice. "But I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."

Piper nodded, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Despite the situation, Jason found himself smiling. Piper tried to return the smile, but her lips were trembling. Jason found her beautiful, all the same. He took her soft, small hand in his and deftly steered them off the balcony through the wide stone arch that led to the hallway. To their left was a row of nearly-identical carved wooden doors and to their right were windows of bulletproof glass, meaning they were safe from attacks from the outside. Zeus' sudden militarization in light of Jason's poisoning and the fact that the top floor was largely unused meant that Jason couldn't find a guard anywhere.

Actually, there should be a guard following them right now. His personal guard, to be specific. Percy. But as usual the guy wasn't around to do his job. Jason didn't know whether to be annoyed or worried. Still they pressed on, silently climbing down a staircase. Piper let out a soft whimper when they realized the floor was just as deserted as the last. Jason lightly squeezed her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. She looked up at him gratefully, before nodding. They continued through the floor, although every step filled Jason with dread.

Ahead of them, a door suddenly burst open.

"Percy!" Nico hissed, heart plunging to his stomach as he watched Percy kick the door open.

Percy drew his silver pistol from its holster at his hip and held it out in front of him, as he wildly whipped his head from side-to-side. Nico swallowed. He cautiously crept towards the door, but Percy's body had relaxed and Nico could see him lazily grinning to his left.

"Percy," Someone said from the hallway, his tone both exasperated and relieved, his voice so achingly familiar that Nico had to stop and remind himself to breathe.

"Fancy seeing you here, Highness," Percy folded an arm in front of him and another one behind his back, bending forward in an exaggerated bow. He turned back to Nico and enthusiastically waved both his arms in the air, as if he weren't holding a pistol in one of them. When Nico didn't move, he made a puzzled face, oblivious to Nico's distress. He beckoned the other with his free hand, without moving from his spot just outside the doorway.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked from the hallway. His voice was a little louder now, closer.

Slowly, with legs that felt like lead, Nico walked out of the room. He kept his eyes down as he went to stand an arm's length away from Percy. But then the prince called his name.

"Nico?" Jason said, and Nico could hear the disbelief and confusion, could hear the questions Jason wouldn't ask in the way the prince spoke his name.

"Your Royal Highness," Nico dropped into a stiff and formal bow, still refusing to meet the prince's electric blue eyes, eyes he knew would be judging him. He could see Jason stepping forward and behind him Nico spied the fringes of a deep red floor-length gown.

"I'm glad you're okay," Jason said, placing a hand on Nico's shoulder and squeezing lightly.

Only then did Nico let himself look up. Jason was wearing a strained smile. It wasn't the smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges, or the smile that made him look like a boy instead of a prince. But he was smiling at Nico earnestly, helplessly, like he didn't know what else to do.

"No worries, man," Percy answered for him, slinging an arm around his shoulders as he made a thumbs-up at Jason. "I got him."

Jason gave another tight-lipped smile.

"We need to get to the basement," Jason said after a beat.

He looked over his shoulder and Nico followed his gaze. Lingering uneasily behind Jason was Piper, in the floor-length gown Nico had seen earlier, and Nico's heart clenched painfully in his chest at the sight of them together, at the implications it held. But he couldn't say anything. He didn't have the right to.

"Right-o," Percy put two of his fingers to his forehead in a mock salute. "This way."

Percy and Jason went first, side by side, sword drawn in Jason's case and gun cocked in Percy's. Nico and Piper held up the rear. Piper clutched her skirts in fists that whitened at the knuckles. Nico felt like he should be reassuring her, but he just couldn't find the words.

They descended the closest staircase and Nico breathed a sigh of relief when he saw people. There were guards storming up and down the hallway, their metal boots pounding on the floor. The servants were on their knees on the floor, huddled together, panicking, praying. It were as if a switch was turned on inside Jason. In a second, he broke away from their group, moving to the middle of the floor where he could see most of the people and the people could see him, too.

"Attention!" He called loudly, to no one in particular.

All the guards stopped to turn to him, straightening up. Even the servants struggled to get to their feet and Jason put out a hand to stay them.

"Report," Jason said, in that same commanding tone.

"Your Royal Highness," One guard stepped forward. "Exchange of gunfire has been reported at the palace grounds north of west tower. Cabin 9 was sent to neutralize hostiles. Cabin 7 is setting up a 100-meter perimeter around the palace."

"Any orders from His Maj - my father?"

"None, Your Royal Highness," The guard shook his head. "But His Majesty decided to lead Cabin 9 in the counter-attack."

Jason's eyebrows shot to his hairline, but then he schooled his expression, something Nico was sure the prince had been trained to do. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, looking resigned. When he spoke again, his voice was controlled and calm, as per usual.

"Have Cabin 2 secure all exits and entrances to the palace. Cabin 3 is to sweep the palace and make sure all civilians get to the basement. Radio Fort Olympus and tell them to dispatch the rest of the cabins if we don't contact them again in an hour."

He said all of this without pausing, as if an attack on the palace was just a daily part of his routine. There was something awe-inspiring about the way he took control of the situation so effortlessly and Nico had to admit his mouth had gone dry, his breathing stuttered. Beside him, Percy was leaning by the wall, watching and waiting as if nothing concerned him.

"Understood, Your Royal Highness," The guard saluted, before turning on his heel.

Percy pushed off the wall and sauntered after the guard.

"Hold, Jackson," Jason called.

To Nico's surprise, Percy did stop.

"I task you with escorting this group," Jason gestured around the floor. "To the basement."

"What!" Percy exclaimed. He looked long and hard at Jason, as if he couldn't quite understand his orders. "But the palace… there's - you know I - I'm gonna miss out on the fun!"

For some reason, Jason glanced quickly at Nico, before he turned his attention back to Percy.

"I'm heading for Cabin 9," Jason said with finality.

Percy threw his hands up in defeat and trudged back, grumbling and cursing his luck. He addressed the group and started talking about routes, but Nico couldn't hear him over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He remembered the time when Jason had been poisoned and what his face looked like at the brink of death. All Nico could see was Jason's retreating back and all he could think of was how much he wanted the prince to be safe.

Chapter Text

The firefight lasted all of 20 minutes and immediately after, Zeus ordered an investigation into the attack. Along with Cabin 9, he captured the members of the group that had broken into the palace yard. He collected their armaments and bullets and had those sent away for inspection. Then, with a broad grin, he clapped the nearest guard on the back and declared the 'defense of the palace' successful, before walking off.

Jason tried not to grimace as he watched the whole thing. As expected, the King had forgotten to address the question of how the group slipped into the palace in the first place. The King was probably going to forget all about the investigation, too. The only thing that mattered to him was that they'd won. Still, Jason forced himself to smile at the King's announcement, hiding his chagrin.

After the King left, Jason looked over where the fight had happened, an expanse of land in the palace yard lined with manicured hedges and dotted with trees. He sighed wearily, both disappointed and relieved the exchange of gunfire was over soon. Although Jason hadn't wanted anyone to get hurt, he needed the distraction.

He needed the sound of gunshots in his ears and the weight of a gun in his hands, so he wouldn't have to think of other things, things like why Percy and Nico were together, things like why Nico looked so guilty when Jason came across them, things like -

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't think of that right now. He had work to do. He had to clean up this mess, had to protect the palace, had to take care of the kingdom.

He ordered the injured guards to head for the sick bay and get medical attention, while the rest swept the yard again, just in case they had missed someone or something. He radioed Fort Olympus that the situation was under control, while stalking over to the nearest group of guards. He recognized one of them and called out. "Stoll!"

To his surprise, 2 heads whipped around to face him. "Tell Cabin 7 to maintain perimeter," He said, watching as both of the guards walked away briskly. He turned to another guard. "Beckendorf, tell Cabins 2 and 3 they're relieved, but have Cabin 4 take over the night watch."

Beckendorf nodded and left, and in his place another guard approached Jason. "Everyone in the palace has been accounted for," The newcomer said.

Jason was thankful someone had some initiative. He made sure to remember the guard's name: Nakamura.

After that, he headed back inside the palace, intending to look over the results of the arms inspection. He deliberately passed over the hallways he knew would be used by the people leaving the basement. If he didn't see Nico, he wouldn't think of him, and if he didn't think of him, he wouldn't have to confront his troublesome feelings.

He didn't understand what was wrong. Nico and Percy were childhood friends, so it was only natural they'd seek each other out. That was what he kept telling himself. When the attack happened, Jason made the split decision to send Percy with Nico, because he thought Nico would be more at ease with someone he knew.

It felt like the right thing to do, but it made his stomach twist into knots, made his heart clench painfully in his chest. He tried to tamp down the feelings best as he could, the way he had been taught in the palace, the way he'd been living for almost 2 decades now. But no matter what he did, images of Nico and Percy would bubble to the front of his mind and he would have to ball his hands into fists. This wasn't like him.

He ran both hands through his hair as he walked to the guard barracks, where Chiron should be. He could hear the sound of clamor in the distance, people filling up the palace again after being kept away in the basement. For a second, all he could think of was how much he wanted to see Nico, how much he wanted to make sure the other was safe.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. What was he thinking? Of course Nico was safe. He was with Percy, and Nakamura had reported everyone was safe. Jason inhaled deeply through his nose, reminding himself that he had a job to do.

He pushed on the carved wooden doors and stepped inside. He was doing his duty, fulfilling his responsibility and obligation to his kingdom.

He didn't know why he felt like he was doing the wrong thing.

Being released from the reinforced basement was like being freed from a cage. Nico stumbled onto the hallway the moment those heavy metal doors opened, greedily drinking in the evening breeze and the natural light shining through the glass windows. To say he hadn't liked being in the basement was an understatement.

The room was supposed to be safe, with its windowless metal walls, flat metal flooring, and single metal door. But Nico didn't feel safe, he felt trapped. The artificial light from the bulb overhead washed the basement in white, making everyone in the room look pale and sickly. Nico pressed his back to a wall and ignored the rest of the people in the room. He felt cold all over.

At first, Percy sat with him, rubbing soothing circles on his back, murmuring 'it's okay' over and over again. Nico had leaned against Percy's side, reveling in the warmth, until the guard started talking about how and why Jason wouldn't die. Percy said the prince was 'a crazy good shot and wicked with the sword' and 'he's used to this' and 'he's been shot before, don't worry.'

Nico had stared at him with wide, horrified eyes, but Percy just went on, unfazed. After a couple more seconds, Nico shifted away, completely out of reach of Percy, turning his gaze on something else. When he looked back, Percy was already across the room, chatting up Leo's friend, Annabeth. Nico sniffed a little, but he quickly got over it when he remembered Jason was somewhere out there, shooting and getting shot at.

After what seemed like an eternity, they heard the gears in the metal door turning. Percy pushed his way to the front, drawing his gun, when a guard with almond-shaped eyes said the 'situation was resolved.' Percy grinned, pushing open the other door, and Nico bolted like a bat out of hell.

Now that he could breathe, all Nico could think of was Jason, if he was alright, if he had gotten hurt. He frantically looked around, craning his neck to see over the heads of the Selected and the Nines, but he couldn't see those golden blond locks anywhere. He made his way back to the basement and to the guard with almond-shaped eyes. He asked about the prince, trying to sound not as panicked as he felt.

"His Royal Highness is unharmed," The guard replied, giving Nico a strange look before directing him back to his room.

Nico walked back to the quarters for the Selected, feeling numb. He climbed onto the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest. He closed his eyes but didn't sleep, the seconds ticking into minutes, and the minutes into hours.

It was almost time for the noon bell, but Percy knocked on the door lightly, unwilling to disturb the others on the floor.

"What?" Nico stumbled out of the room, in the same clothes he was wearing last night. He looked like he slept in them, but the dark shadows under his eyes said he hadn't slept at all. When he saw that it was Percy at the door, he stopped glaring. Instead, he took a half-step back into the room, hiding behind the door. "Um, good morning."

"I didn't see you at breakfast."

"Oh," He looked at his feet. "I wasn't hungry."

Percy had promised himself he was going to be nice. He even had a plan: he was going to ask if Nico was okay, if he wanted Percy to bring him food, if he needed to borrow a phone or something. But Percy decided, screw it, and blurted out the question he'd come here to ask.

"Are you leaving too?"

"What!" Nico gasped, color draining from his face. "What do you mean?"

"This morning, Jas - His Royal Highness let anyone who wanted to leave go home," Percy explained, shrugging. He honestly couldn't understand it. It was just a little firefight. "8 Selected have already left."

"I'm not leaving," Nico whispered, talking to himself rather than Percy.

"Well, I'm happy you're staying."

Nico startled at that, eyes snapping upwards to look at Percy. He flushed a little, cheeks going pink, and as usual, Percy thought it was adorable. He remembered yesterday, how he was about to kiss Nico when the firefight started. He hadn't gotten his kiss, but Nico was staying in the palace. Percy had time.

"His Royal Highness is making another announcement at lunch," Percy continued. "Walk with me?"

Nico nodded, albeit hesitantly. He excused himself, closed the door in Percy's face, and disappeared back into his room for almost 5 minutes. When he opened it again, he looked much more awake. He'd washed his face and changed into new clothes.

They walked to the banquet hall in silence and separated when they got there, Nico sitting down with his fellow Selected and Percy standing up with the other guards. Jason entered moments later, heading straight for the front of the room. All eyes turned to him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," He started, and Percy frowned because that was the prince's 'bad news' voice. "I’m afraid that after yesterday’s attack, I’ve been forced to seriously reconsider the operation of the Selection. I don’t feel comfortable keeping anyone in the palace, facing this constant threat of danger, when I feel confident that we don’t have any sort of future together."

Percy's brows knit in confusion. His eyes scanned the room and he could see the Selected, their expressions mirroring his own. What was Jason doing?

"I've discussed the matter with my family and advisors, and I have decided to narrow down the Selection to the Elite," The prince continued in that same, businesslike tone. "It pains me to do this, but I will be sending all but 12 of you home."

Chapter Text

Jason watched from the front of the banquet hall as the Selected finally understood his words. Their eyes widened, faces going white with horror. They turned their desperate eyes to him, as if begging for a spot in the Elite.

Jason steeled himself, preparing for the tears and shouting he knew would come. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't let them stay. Like the rest of his life, he didn't have control over the Selection. He looked down at the list on his hand, given to him early that morning by Dionysus, and tried not to feel the anger boiling underneath his skin.

Zeus had disappeared after the gunfight last night, leaving Jason to clean up the operation. When the King reappeared in the ungodly hours of the morning, it was with a bunch of officials trailing after him, all of them shouting.

"We have to drop them," Someone said.

"What about our ratings?" Dionysus screeched.

"We can't protect them," Chiron frowned.

Zeus heaved a dramatic sigh, before snapping his fingers at Jason. Jason gritted his teeth but followed, dismissing the patrol guard he'd been talking to. He took his place beside his father as their group marched through the palace halls, their destination unknown to him.

"I'm sorry to say this, son, but your playtime's been cut short," The king placed a large hand on his shoulder. "We have to move on to the Elite. The Selection's done."

"I understand, Father," Was Jason's automatic response, although he couldn't help balling his hands into fists.

That was how his father saw the Selection? Playtime? Jason spent half his waking days agonizing over the Selection, wondering if he'd be able to choose the right person. He'd look at Reyna and wonder if choosing her meant uniting with the Amazonian Empire. He'd look at Piper and wonder if she could act the part of a Queen. He'd look at Annabeth and wonder if the public would adore her like they adored Thalia.

"We have to narrow down the Selected to the 12 Elite," Zeus said.

Jason thought of Nico and wished he could choose for himself.

"Only the following will stay on as part of Elite," Jason began. "Reyna Ramirez."

Reyna was the most practical choice for the Selection, with her connections to the Amazonian Empire and her military background. Jason knew it was to be expected that her name would be the first on the list. He looked at the girl, who nodded at him although her eyes were a little glassy.

"Annabeth Chase," Jason continued.

Annabeth, who was normally as composed as Jason, let out a shaky breath. She briefly closed her eyes. Beside her, Mark from Thrace clutched at the pristine tablecloth with thin, bony fingers, manicured fingernails almost tearing into the cloth.

"Io," Jason continued. "Silena Beauregard."

Silena looked torn, her head whipping toward the guards lined up beside the wall. Jason frowned in confusion. They were doing this because of security reasons. What more did she want him to do with the guards?

"Calypso," He said, watching as tension drained from the girl's shoulders. And then, "Drew Tanaka."

Drew grinned and clapped triumphantly, before remembering herself. She cleared her throat and shook her head at the rest of the table, looking at the other Selected with pity in her eyes. None of them met her gaze.

"Zoe Nightshade," Jason read. "Katie Gardner."

There were only 3 more spots left and Jason averted his eyes as Miranda and Phoebe began crying. Malcolm tried comforting the girls, but even he looked too distraught. By the end of the table, Shelley had stood up, eyes enraged. She opened her mouth, but Jason didn't let her speak a word.

"Leo Valdez." He cut her off.

Unlike the others, Leo looked chagrined to have been called. He winced at the sound of his name and looked at Jason with disbelieving eyes, as if expecting the prince to say it was just a joke. Jason said nothing, and Leo put his head in his hands.

Last two.

"Piper McLean," Jason lifted his head and looked at her.

Piper's kaleidoscope-colored eyes were shining with unshed tears, and she looked impossibly happy to be staying in the Selection. She smiled at him gratefully and mouthed a 'thank you.' Jason knew he didn't deserve her gratitude.

He looked down at the last name.

It said Nancy Bobofit.

Nico couldn't understand why this was happening and why it was happening now. A week ago he realized he wanted to have something more with Jason. A few days after that, he was reunited with Percy. Now, he was going to lose both of them.

He kept his eyes down, hands curled into fists on his lap as he listened to Jason say name after name, none of which were his. He wanted to be happy for those staying in the Selection, because he knew they deserved the Prince in a way he never would. But he couldn't.

Because he wanted to be one of them.

It was ironic really, how he'd come to accept the Selection only now that it was going to end for him. He supposed he deserved it, for being indecisive, for wanting Percy when he had Jason, for pushing Jason away when he finally found Percy.

Jason had been nothing but kind to him. The prince forgave him after he forgot to buy a gift during the 1st Selection Challenge, then forgave him again after he'd injured him during their date. In the 2nd Selection Challenge, Nico saw that the prince was humble as well, and understanding.

He remembered when he first felt something 'more' for Jason. It was when the Selected debuted on the Olympus Royal Report and Jason had come to his rescue, taking the blame and the attention away from him after Hermes had shown that video. Nico was at fault and he knew it, but Jason gave him a second chance.

Jason was blond and blue-eyed, but he made Nico feel like he were the one who was beautiful. He looked at Nico in a way nobody ever did, and talked to him like he wasn't an Eight, wasn't seven numbers down the line. He was kind and generous and respectful, and Nico realized he was choosing the prince.

He was choosing Jason.

If only Jason would choose him back.

Percy shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily, wincing when the crying grew in volume and some of the Selected started standing up as if to leave... or to confront Jason. He eyed the sharp silver utensils laid out on the long mahogany table and gestured for the guards by the front to step closer to the prince. They complied, and the rest of the guards got the message. Those by the doors and windows moved backwards to secure the exits.

At Annabeth's name, Percy couldn't help but grin. Jason didn't like her, but he did. She had a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue, and she wasn't afraid to speak her thoughts. People like her were rare in the palace and Percy was glad they'd become friends.

Jason continued reading out names and Percy trained his eyes on the only other Selected he cared about: his childhood friend, Nico.

Nico was looking at his lap. After every name, he'd lift his head and weakly smile at the Selected who'd just been called, but it was clear he wasn't happy. Percy had realized Nico saw Jason as more than a friend after the prince's date with Piper, and now, watching Nico listen to Jason skip his name over and over, Percy wanted to be angry.

How could Jason drop Nico like this? How could he not see how much Nico liked him?

Percy's eyes bore into the side of Jason's head, trying to telepathically will the prince to say Nico's name. He wasn't being completely selfless, though. Percy wanted Nico to stay for his own reasons, too. Nico was his taste of home, his rule to be broken, and although Nico wanted Jason, Jason had all those other Selected.

But Percy wanted Nico to stay, because he was willing to be Nico's distraction.

Jason looked up from the list, crumpled it, and made a decision. All his life, he'd never been given a choice. But now he was going to take what he wanted.

He said the last name, the last Selected, the last Elite.

"Nico di Angelo."

Chapter Text

"Olympian ladies and gentlemen, 'tis I, Hermes your messenger," Hermes boomed from the screen. "Bringing you the show of the week, the show of all shows, Olympus Royal Report!"

The crowd in the studio cheered and Hermes bowed a little, his curly purple-tinted hair falling to his eyes. Instead of his usual coat, he was wearing a zebra-striped dress shirt with black trousers. The camera zoomed out to show the rest of the stage: the podium with the kingdom's symbol, the sky-blue background, and the 3 empty golden thrones.

But the space for the tiered seating of the Selected was empty.

"A month ago, ladies and gentlemen, the biggest event of the generation, the 31st Selection began," Hermes said slowly, as dramatic as ever. "A month ago, we met our 50 Selected, 50 candidates competing for the title of Child of Olympus and to become the spouse of our Crown Prince Jason.

"We've seen them at their best," The screen behind Hermes flashed to show the Selected in their ball gowns and suits, parading around the castle, smiles on their faces and in their eyes. "We've seen them at their worst." This time, the screen showed Clarisse LaRue and Lacy screaming and scratching at each other in the middle of a lounge.

"The point is," The camera zoomed into Hermes again. The host had a somber look on his face. "They've endeared themselves to us. These are our candidates, our Selected, and, sadly, our time with them has been cut short."

A surprised, confused gasp rose up from the crowd gathered in the studio.

"Ladies and gentlemen, to explain the situation better," He turned aside. "Let's welcome the Royal Family."

Jason stepped onto the stage to the sound of applause. Behind him trailed his father the King, who walked off to take his seat on the largest golden throne. The Queen hadn't returned yet from wherever she went and her throne remained conspicuously empty.

"Good morning, everyone," Jason spoke into the mic at the center of the stage. "As you might have heard from the news last week, the Palace of Olympus was attacked by a group we have yet to identify. We have apprehended the perpetrators of the attack and they are currently under investigation by the King's Guard."

Jason had his script memorized down to the last comma, but the words written in it were lies and Jason never liked lying, especially to his people. But he was a prince and this was part of the job. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Although the situation is now under control, it has made me reconsider the operation of the Selection. I don’t feel comfortable keeping anyone in the palace, facing this constant threat of danger, when I feel confident that we don’t have any sort of future together."

"Your Royal Highness," Hermes' voice was now quiet, so very different from his usually cheery and noisy way of speaking. "Are you telling us that you...?"

"Yes, Hermes," Jason nodded at the host. "I am telling you that I have decided to narrow down the remaining Selected to the 12 Elite."

"I understand, Your Royal Highness," Hermes nodded back. He turned to look directly at the cameras. "When we return, His Royal Highness will introduce to us the 12 Elite he has chosen. Don't go away, ladies and gentlemen."

At Hermes' signal, the show went on commercial break. The sound of news announcements rolled over the studio and Zeus relaxed in his seat. He wanted to rub a hand over his eyes, but that would imply exhaustion and the King wasn't allowed to be tired. He settled for slumping ever-so-slightly against his seat. His gaze swept over the stage and he watched as Jason went around the studio, addressing the lighting technicians and the sound directors.

His son was a natural-born leader, in control in any and every situation, and Zeus couldn't be any more proud. He'd watched as his son went from Representative of the Capitol, to Senator in the Upper House, to Secretary of the Interior and Local Government. Ever since his son took charge of the kingdom, economic growth had increased, foreign relations had improved, and citizen satisfaction had stabilized. Zeus no longer had to lift even a finger to run the country.

But of course Zeus still worried about his son, about his future, to be specific. His son deserved only the best as his spouse, which was why Zeus had decided to step up and play a bigger role in the Selection. Without Hera and her council of advisers, the task of choosing who proceeded to the Elite fell to Zeus and his advisers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the Olympus Royal Report," Hermes said after the 10-minute allotted break, as he returned to the center of the stage. "We're here with His Majesty the King Zeus - "

Zeus sat up straighter and smiled at the cameras.

" - and His Royal Highness the Prince Jason."

Jason walked over to stand beside Hermes.

"Just moments ago, His Royal Highness made a very important announcement," Hermes turned to Jason. "Your Royal Highness, again please, if you will."

"In light of the recent events, I have decided to move the Selection on to the Elite," Jason repeated. "Today, I will announcing who will be continuing in the Selection."

"Without further ado," Hermes swept his arm towards the empty side of the stage, the part opposite where Zeus was sitting, where now a spotlight shone. "Presenting the 31st Selection Elite!"

Jason began reciting Zeus' list of names from memory. "Reyna Ramirez-Arellano!"

Zeus applauded, like the rest of the crowd, as the girl walked onto the spotlighted stage wearing a brilliant yellow gown fitted through her hips. With her brown skin, she looked liked she were radiating light to the room. But that wasn't the reason she was first on Zeus' list.

Reyna was a Praetor in Camp Jupiter, meaning she was a valuable soldier and military strategist, and Zeus figured the kingdom could never have enough military men. What's more was that she was related to the Queen of the Amazons through her father. Hera was the diplomat in the family, but even Zeus knew the Amazonian Empire was a powerful ally to have.

"Annabeth Chase."

Annabeth was dressed simply in an unadorned, black sheath dress that brought out the gray of her eyes. Her parents, the Chases, were famous architects and engineers, responsible for the construction of the Kingdom's tallest buildings and most famous attractions. Their only child Annabeth was also an inventor with several patents under her name.

"Io." Jason continued.

Io was Zeus' favorite girl and he grinned as she strutted up the stage after Annabeth and Reyna. She had neither connections nor smarts, but with her shapely legs, showed off by her short lace dress, it really wasn't much of a surprise that she held the King's attention. Zeus had fought with the council all night just to keep her.

"Silena Beauregard."

Silena was a priestess of the Temple of Mother Earth who was being trained to become High Priestess. Because people held in high regard everyone who served the Temples, she had been a strong contender from the very beginning. Wearing a flowy lavender gown that looked more like a Temple robe, she made her way to the stage.

"Will Solace."

The choice to keep Will was a tough one. The Selection had always been open to the possibility of a same-sex relationship, and Zeus himself had had a few not-exactly-female partners, but traditionally the Prince or Princess only chose a Selected of the opposite sex, if only to avoid inheritance issues. To keep a boy who had nothing to offer - no connections, no wealth, no illustrious family name - was a move that might be misconstrued by Olympus loyalists as an attempt to pass the crown to another family. But the council insisted the public wanted variety, so Zeus grunted and shut up.

"Calypso."

Zeus stopped glaring at the blond boy to turn to the next Elite. Like Io, the only reason Calypso was still here was that Zeus liked her, but even he knew she'd have to step up her game if she wanted to stay any longer.

"Drew Tanaka."

The Tanakas were media moguls and Drew was a media darling. By letting Drew stay and possibly drawing her close to Jason, Zeus was making sure all Tanaka-controlled TV channels, radio stations, and newspapers would portray the Selection and the Prince positively. But that's it, Zeus wanted to sneer as she waved triumphantly to the crowd. He had no intention of letting someone of foreign descent get her hands on the crown.

"Zöe Nightshade."

Zöe was one of the lower Numbers, a Six who ran the Golden Apple Farm with her many sisters. Hera quite liked the tapestry she had given Jason for the 1st Selection Challenge, so Zeus figured the girl deserved to stay for that alone. In her sparkly silver dress, her inferior Number wasn't quite as obvious, and she looked like she was wearing constellations, the stars twinkling under the spotlight as she walked.

"Katie Gardner."

Katie was just like Zöe, a Six they had to keep because she had won a Selection Challenge and the council wanted to appear fair. But she looked plain, even in the strapless and backless red gown she was wearing. Zeus searched the audience for someone from his council and made a disappointed face at him.

"Leo Valdez."

Leo took to the stage in a walk that was more of a swagger. Although another boy, he was poised to inherit Valdez Industries, an international trading and manufacturing company based in Olympus. Coincidentally, the Kingdom's contract with its current weapons-manufacturer was coming to an end. Zeus figured it was a good time to get a new contract at friendlier prices.

"Piper McLean."

Piper was wearing a one-shoulder, blush pink cocktail dress, so different from the elegant, deep red gown she wore during her birthday party, where she performed the song that catapulted her to the crowd favorite position. Like so many of the others, she was here out of necessity, because Zeus' council didn't want to antagonize the public by eliminating her so early.

The last Elite was Nancy Bobofit, who Zeus considered pretty average in looks and record. But the Bobofits ran the Yancy Banking Group, which was the Kingdom's biggest private partner. Zeus couldn't risk alienating the company or its successor -

"Nico di Angelo."

What.

Jason watched as Nico walked up the stage, wearing a buttoned, blue trench coat that melted into white, like strands of ice were weaving their way to the floor, paired with black pants and white dress shoes. Nico neither smiled nor waved, merely stood in front of the crowd, before moving to the side to take his place behind Piper.

Still, Jason's heart stuttered in his chest, his face growing warm when his eyes met Nico's. He averted his gaze, unwilling to make a fool of himself on national television. Unfortunately, he had nowhere else to look but in the direction of the King.

There was a storm brewing behind the King's blue eyes, and even from a distance, Jason could already feel his thunderous mood. Obviously, the King and everyone else in the Selection staff already knew what this disobedience meant. Still, Jason stood his ground, ignoring the King, and clapping and smiling with the audience, as if nothing was wrong.

Well, to Jason, nothing was.

After years of running the kingdom, he was finally running his own life, making decisions for himself instead of just nodding his head and saying yes to whatever his parents had planned for him. He was finally putting himself before the kingdom.

And it was all because of Nico.

Hera marched through the dressing room connected to the studio, her high heels click-clacking on the tiled floor. She had just gotten off the Royal Family's private plane at the palace's landing pad but, despite the wind, not a single lock of her hair was out of place. She was perfect, as always.

"Come along, dear," She snapped her fingers at the girl tripping at her heels. "We can't be late now, the show's about to finish."

But today, she needed to be a little more than perfect.

"Yes, ma'am!" The girl answered.

Because in a few weeks, she was going to be planning the wedding of the century.

"That's all for today, Olympian ladies and gentlemen!" Hermes began his ending spiel. "This has been the show of the week, the show of all shows - "

Zeus stood from his throne. He had been appearing on national TV since he was born, so he knew how to keep his face carefully neutral and politely interested, even as the anger of disappointment had him balling his hands into fists. He had to teach his son that there were no mistakes in running a kingdom, only consequences.

"Olympus Royal Report!" Hermes continued. "And I am your messenger - "

The backdrop of the studio was drawn aside.

Hera stepped through.

The tiniest of creases appeared on Zeus' forehead.

Hera could see the shock and confusion on everyone's faces - on the host's, on her advisers', and definitely on her husband's. It made her feel powerful, a lioness about to catch her biggest prey. She picked up the tiered skirts of her dove-grey low-cut gown and stopped to stand directly under the spotlight.

"My dear people of Olympus," She held out her arms, as if to reach for these people of hers. "May I introduce to you your 13th Elite - "

A girl with brown hair and brown eyes emerged from behind Hera, wearing a floor-length gown of purple chiffon with lace-trimmed full sleeves. On her head was a golden crown with a large pearl in the middle and a row of diamond-cut rubies on either side.

"The First Princess of the Kingdom of Tartarus, Bianca di Angelo! "

Chapter Text

The studio went dead silent.

Nico thought nothing of it, thinking everyone had simply been stunned speechless. He certainly was, because he'd never seen a princess before! He was merely a child back when the Kingdom still had Princess Thalia, but before he grew up, she passed away from an illness, making Jason the uncontested heir to the throne.

After a beat, Hermes seemed to remember himself. He cleared his throat and slyly edged Hera off the center of the stage. "Again, I am your messenger, Hermes!" He continued his interrupted ending spiel, sounding a little harried. "See you next week!"

Instead of thunderous applause, the audience started hesitantly clapping. They shook their heads at each other, sending confused looks towards the stage. By the front of the line even Drew was throwing a fit, whispering furiously to the Elite beside her and not-so-discreetly pointing at the princess.

"Cut!" Hermes shouted, making a chopping motion with his hands. "Cut! Stop rolling!"

Nico didn't understand what everyone's problem was. The rules did state that there should only be 12 Elite, but Ones made the rules. Surely, Ones could break and remake them as they wished. And this was the Queen, one of the highest Ones of them all.

Nico decided to ignore them and instead get a better look at the 'First Princess.' She was wearing a crown, as expected, and her gown looked a little traditional. She had the same eyes as his - brown, like twin pools of milk chocolate - and the same hair. But her skin was tan unlike his, which was pale from years of being cooped up in mining caves.

Her name was Bianca di Angelo.

Nico thought that maybe it was a common name in Tartarus.

"Out!" The King suddenly bellowed. He stood up from his seat so violently the golden throne went skittering backwards. "Everybody, get out!"

The studio descended into chaos.

Hermes and his camera crew fled like they were being chased by the devil himself, and the audience followed their lead, crowding all the doors. The guards opened the emergency exits and ushered the audience towards those, a sense of terrible urgency in their movements.

The guards near the stage went to the Elite, and Nico frowned as his view of the studio was blocked by uniforms of white and blue. "This way, please, hurry, please," they murmured over and over, as they gently pushed the Elite to get them moving back to the dressing room connected to the studio.

"Wait, wait," Nico held his hands up, trying to peek over the shoulders of the guard in front of him.

Everything felt wrong. Normally, the audience and the Selected were allowed to mingle with the media after the show. Why were they being chased out today? Were they in danger? If they were, why was no one helping the Royal Family?

Nico remembered how he felt when Jason had collapsed in front of him. He never wanted to feel like that again. He never wanted Jason to be hurt like that again. Nico watched the guard escorting him, and ducked out of the way the moment the guard looked elsewhere.

"Hey - " The guard spun around, quietly cursing, but Nico was already halfway back to the front of the stage.

"You know what her father did to me!" Zeus screamed.

Nico stopped dead in his tracks.

Zeus marched across the stage to his wife, footsteps heavy. "Her father tried to steal my crown," he jabbed a finger in the direction of the princess, voice dripping with disgust and hatred. "He rebelled against his own father - our father! - and plotted a coup, because Father wouldn't give the crown to him."

The Queen was tall for a woman, but the King's height was almost unnatural. He loomed over his wife, standing rigidly straight like a thunderbolt ready to strike. His thunderous mood was almost palpable in the air and Nico felt himself shaking, terrified.

"That was her father, darling, not her. And that was decades ago," Hera reasoned, surprisingly calm and unafraid despite her husband's red-faced, white-hot anger.

"You'd let them steal our crown!?" Zeus seethed, his nostrils flared in anger. He gestured towards the princess with a wide sweep of his arm and almost hit his wife, who was right in front of him.

Although he was meters away, Nico staggered backwards.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Nico flinched.

"Hey, hey, it's just me," The voice was familiar, and comfortingly so. Nico tore his gaze away from the King and looked up into Percy's sea-green eyes. "You're not supposed to be here anymore." Percy said.

"I… I don't - the prince - " Nico's voice was shaking.

"We need to go," Percy cut him off and held his wrists, dragging him out of the studio.

Nico held his ground. He shook his head at Percy and pulled his arms back. Couldn't Percy see? The King was dangerous! He looked like he wanted to hurt the Queen! They couldn't leave Jason here!

"My father never stole anything." A new voice sounded through the studio.

Percy and Nico both turned.

It was the princess.

Her voice was strong and commanding, brooking no arguments. Her narrowed eyes were fixed on the King. She was a foreign princess, and yet she had the courage to speak out against the local monarch. Nico didn't know her, but he was amazed.

"My father was the heir, until Kronos - that fool - broke tradition and passed the crown to you. I didn't come here to 'steal the crown,' like you say Your Majesty," She spat his title, like she couldn't bear to even say it. "I came here on the invitation of your wife, to fix the relationship between our countries - which you ruined - because you thought my father stole something which was actually his!"

Zeus stood stunned.

But only for a second.

"Treason," He hissed. He looked around the studio, at the guards nervously standing about. "Arrest her! Arrest her!"

Zeus looked at Percy.

Then, his eyes met Nico's.

Jason felt his stomach drop.

Nico had been on his way out of the studio until moments ago, when he suddenly broke free of his guard. An angry Zeus could send a whole army running, but here was Nico running back. Jason almost cursed, wondering what the Eight was doing, when he realized Percy was still in the studio with him.

Jason felt like he'd been stabbed.

But he didn't let it show. He schooled his expression into its usual blank mask, carefully sealing away his pain. Pain was a weakness that could be taken advantage of. The Royal Family didn't tolerate weakness. And they certainly wouldn't tolerate the person causing it.

Instead, Jason signaled Percy, tilting his head toward Nico. Percy's eyes widened when he saw Nico was still in the studio and he nodded to the prince, getting the message. Percy discreetly went around the stage, making sure he didn't separate from the other guards and call attention to himself. Then, he grabbed Nico.

Jason almost sighed in relief.

He watched Percy and Nico talk out of the corner of his eye, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest, while his father yelled and raged at his mother. Zeus' screams used to frighten him, but that was a long time ago and Jason had grown up. Today, he was terrified for a completely different reason.

Suddenly the princess lashed out.

For a moment, Jason was taken aback, unsure. Nobody had ever dared to speak against his father like this. Nobody. As expected, Zeus had called for the princess' arrest. Jason stopped the guards with a subtle wave of his hand, gratified that they saw him as the ultimate authority figure in the situation. He thought the crisis had been averted.

And then he realized Zeus had been staring at Nico.

"You!" Zeus immediately switched targets, striding towards Nico, the princess all but forgotten. "What do you think you're doing here!"

To his credit, Percy neither cowered nor tried to slip away, like some of the guards were doing. Instead, he bravely stood in front of Nico, head held high. For the first time, Jason was glad his personal guard was a rebel.

"Step aside," Zeus growled.

Without thinking, Jason threw himself into the fray. It was a stupid move, really, because in hindsight he should've realized his involvement would only make his father angrier. But at that moment, all he knew was that he couldn't - wouldn't - let his father anywhere near Nico.

"Your Majesty - " Jason walked up to his father, mind racing a mile a minute to think of anything to distract the King. "Please, let's - "

The King turned.

And sent Jason crashing to the ground with barely a shove. Jason went down hard, landing painfully on his back. His vision swam for a moment. Immediately, he sat up, trying to blink away the dizziness. He thought he heard someone gasp, but when he looked up all he saw was his mother, shaking her head at him, and his father, staring down at him with cold eyes.

"You made a mistake, young man, a terrible, terrible mistake. I gave you a list. You deviated from the list. You made a mistake." His father said slowly. "Remember, I am the King of this Kingdom. I know what's best for you and for Olympus."

Nico wasn't in the room anymore, Jason realized. Despite the pain in his lower back, he wanted to smile. Instead, he gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet. He inclined his head in deference to the man in front of him. "Of course, Father. I apologize, Your Majesty."

"Good," Zeus nodded, more to himself than to his son. He turned away and walked from the room.

Jason watched him warily. This was his father - a King first, and a man second. Everything had to go his way, because when it didn't he forgot everything except his anger. He struck indiscriminately, like an eagle to whom everyone was a mouse. Fortunately, Jason's apology was enough to appease him today.

Jason didn't know what he'd have to do next time.

Bianca watched as the prince stretched his back, hiding a grimace.

"I'm alright, thank you," The prince said to the guards who approached him, concern etched on their faces. These were the guards who disobeyed a direct order from their King, all because of a simple wave of the prince's hand.

That and the King's earlier demonstration of brutality proved to Bianca that her convictions about Zeus were correct. She'd held a grudge against Zeus for so long for what he had done to her father, that she couldn't help but lash out like some low-born noble. She wanted to berate herself for acting the way she did, but, well, her father did always say that holding a grudge was their family's fatal flaw.

"Oh, my poor dear," Hera murmured as she dusted the back of the prince's suit jacket with a handkerchief.

Bianca remembered the last few weeks, when Hera arrived at the Kingdom of Tartarus, seeking refuge because her son had been poisoned. She feared whoever did it would come for her next. She said it was the result of the Royal Family's "weakening control" over their citizens.

Control - Bianca knew that was the reason why every generation the Olympian Royal Family held the Selection - to show everyone who ruled the country, who had the wealth, and to reaffirm their place on the country's highest pedestal by giving the people hope that they would someday be part of this elite little group of Ones.

But it seemed the prince Jason's Selection wasn't proving a good enough display of power, because someone had tried to have him assassinated anyway. Thus, Hera had to find another way to legitimize their control of Olympus. And what better way was there than to secure a powerful alliance with another Royal Family?

And so Hera had come to her brother-in-law - then Crown Prince of Olympus Hades and now King of Tartarus Hades - explaining, taunting, and even threatening him to let his daughter participate in the Selection. Eventually, Hades conceded and let his sister-in-law take his daughter away. At least, that was what happened on the surface.

Bianca wasn't stupid. She knew her father had a plan for sending her to Olympus.

"Why don't you get some rest, dear? I'll send up a doctor to your room," Hera gently patted her son on the arm, before turning to her. "You too, Bianca darling, I've had our Nines prepare a room for you."

Nines, Bianca frowned, remembering what her father had told her about the country's Numbers system. That was the real reason she was here - to root out corruption in the country's systems, to sow discontent among its populace, and ultimately bring the Kingdom of Olympus to its knees.

At the end of the Selection, she would marry the Crown Prince Jason - Hera had repeatedly assured her she would win - and establish herself as Queen. Then, she would use the rumors of corruption and the people's discontent to exile the Royal Family. Finally, her father would come back and claim what was rightfully his.

True, it was a complicated plan, one that could lead to a power vacuum once Bianca vacated her position as Crown Princess. But her father had told her not to worry about that. He said she had a sibling, an estranged younger sister, and he was going to find her. Bianca just had to focus on her part of the plan.

A servant in blue and white livery walked up to her and bowed. "I will show you to your room, Your Royal Highness."

Bianca nodded. She had grown up on the most dangerous battlefield of them all: the royal court. Her whole life she'd been surrounded by nobles with perpetual sneers, judging stares, and backhanded compliments. And all of these was made worse by the 'mystery' surrounding her birth.

Half the court swore up and down that Bianca wasn't the daughter of the Queen, Persephone. They said Hades brought Bianca into the marriage, the daughter of a mistress he had back in Olympus. None of it mattered to Bianca.

She had a job to do, and she couldn't risk doing it alone. She needed to get her spies in here.

She smiled innocently to the servant. "What are balls in Olympus like?"

Hera watched as her husband, her son, and her future daughter-in-law left the studio one by one. She sighed, placing a hand to her chest. It was so hard to play when the pieces refused to move the way they were supposed to. How was she supposed to know nobody taught the princess any manners? How was she supposed to know her dutiful, obedient son would defy her husband's wishes?

At least her husband was still the same self-centered, tyrannical man she married. She knew how he would react to her news, and she had planned her arguments accordingly.

Firstly, she would remind him that a marriage with another Royal Family would further elevate the status of their family, and keep them relevant in the eyes of the people. Secondly, she would bring up the new trade deal and contracts the Tartarians offered. Lastly and most importantly, she would emphasize the fact that Bianca was an only child and an illegitimate one at that.

Hera had heard all the rumors during her stay at Tartarus. And she was going to use them to her advantage.

Bianca would marry Jason, and by virtue of the rules of succession, their child would have a claim on both the Olympian and Tartarian throne. Then, Hera would reveal Bianca's illegitimacy, removing her from the picture. The Tartarian Royal Family had no other prince or princess, and everyone knew Queen Persephone was barren. That meant the throne would have to go to Jason's child. Then, Jason would get a proper wife - an Olympian wife - and his child with that woman would inherit the Olympian throne.

Hera's grandchildren would be kings and queens!

She wanted to applaud herself sometimes. But she refrained from doing so, because it was both unladylike and undignified. Instead, she paced the hallway outside the studio, planning her next move. She needed to talk to her husband and get him to approve the princess, so there was that.

But there was also the matter of the public's perception of the princess and the Tartarian Royal Family. For her first argument to hold, Hera needed to make sure the princess and her family were adored. She stopped to look at the paintings lining the hallway.

One of them depicted ladies in ball gowns and men in suits, twirling under a crystal chandelier that shone diamond-shaped lights on the marble dance floor.

Hera stopped a passing Nine. "Tell the prince to meet me in the parlor after his check-up. Tell him it's about the party for the Tartarian Royal Family."

Chapter Text

Instead of the dining hall where they used to take their meals, Nico was led to a smaller dining room during breakfast the next day. Inside were two tables, a longer one near the doors and a shorter one by the back. A Nine guided Nico to a seat by the longer table, and he sat between Silena and the Four named Will Solace.

"We've never really talked, have we?" Will Solace reached for his hand. "I'm Will."

"Nico," Nico lowered his eyes, his shyness resurfacing. He couldn't help it. Now that there were less of them, he was more aware that these people were strangers. Besides, Will had blond hair and blue eyes. Like Jason, Nico thought. 

Immediately, he was filled with worry. The last he'd seen of Jason was yesterday night, when his own father struck him down without so much as a word. Nico had gasped, crying out as if he was the one who had been hit, and Percy took advantage of the distraction to drag him out of the studio.

"Yup, I know you," Will laughed and rested his chin on the heel of his palm. "'Prince's favorite,' right?"

It was that nickname again, and Nico felt the blood rushing to his face. He quickly shook his head. "I'm not, no, it isn't - "

"What does it matter?" Drew entered the room, sauntering past the doors and sitting across from him. "The Selection is over anyway."

Nico almost didn't recognize her. She'd abandoned her elaborate hairstyles and heavy make-up. Instead of her usual showy gowns, she was wearing a plain shirt dress. She used to exude confidence, but today she just looked resigned, defeated.

"The prince has found his princess," She said flatly. "We've become redundant. They're just waiting for the right time to get rid of us."

Nico averted his eyes, looking down at his plate of untouched blueberry pancakes. He used to think he didn't have a shot at winning, but after having his name called as part of the Elite, he'd begun to hope. The princess was a tough competitor, but Jason had chosen them to stay as part of the Elite. That meant they were wanted. That meant Jason had chosen him, the same way he had chosen Jason.

"Is that true? Do you think they'll just end it like that?" Leo asked from the head of the table, looking strangely hopeful. He turned to Annabeth, who was sitting near him.

Annabeth simply shrugged, obviously not wanting anything to do with the conversation.

"She's not even supposed to be here!" Katie slammed her fists onto the table, rattling the fine, white-bone China in front of her. "The rules said 12 Elites! And she's not even an Olympian!"

She started sniffling, covering her face with her hands. Piper handed her a handkerchief, looking sympathetic. Nobody spoke for a while, and Nico pulled his hand from Will, uncomfortable. Surprisingly, it was Reyna who later broke the silence.

"I think she is," She quietly said.

"Who's what?" Drew asked lazily.

"There are rumors the princess' mother was an Olympian."

Drew raised her eyebrows, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth. "Where did you hear that?"

"Royal court in the Amazons," Reyna answered in a clipped voice. "It's just talk."

Drew returned to her breakfast of assorted fruit, but she chewed slowly, thoughtfully. Even Annabeth looked shocked, and she turned to Reyna, asking questions in hushed tones.

Nico picked up his fork and knife. Where the princess came from was none of his business. What mattered to him was that he had chosen Jason, and Jason had chosen him, too. He was just 1 of 12, but that was enough for Nico.

The doors suddenly opened.

Zeus strode in, greeting them with a guileless smile. Nico rose to his feet and dropped to a bow, as did everyone at the table. Hera followed after, telling them to sit and enjoy their breakfast. Nico sat shakily, biting his lower lip. Jason wasn't with them. He was hurt. And Nico hadn't done anything to help him yesterday. 

But Nico couldn't do anything about yesterday today. He couldn't do anything about the mistake he made all those years ago either, when he let Percy leave without breathing even a single word of his feelings. All he could do now was find Jason and tell the prince how he felt, make sure he didn't make the same mistake again.

Because after the last eliminations, Nico realized how thin and fragile the string was that connected him to Jason. If he were eliminated, he'd go home to his old life, and Jason would move on, get married, become king. Nico couldn't chase after the prince like he chased after Percy. He was an Eight, the prince was a One. They lived in different worlds, with only the Selection connecting them. 

The doors opened again, and Nico steeled himself, hoping his wholehearted feelings would be enough. He lifted his eyes from his plate. He saw Jason walk in, laughing, his blue eyes bright. Nico smiled as well -

- And then he saw the princess holding onto the prince's arm, the source of his laughter.

Nico's heart dropped to his stomach.

And he wondered if maybe, just maybe, their worlds were about to separate once again.

Jason wasn't having a good morning. 

His back still hurt from being thrown to the floor yesterday evening, and just moving off his four-poster bed made him wince. But the morning bell was about to ring, and Jason didn't want his attendants see him looking so weak. He trudged to the bathroom while massaging his shoulders, and steam fogged the bathroom's mirror as he put on a hot shower.

Under the water, he thought of the princess' arrival, and what it meant for him and for the Selection. The Queen was obviously planning something - his marriage to the Tartarian Royal Family. His father would disagree, knowing his history with the King of Tartarus, but it didn't matter. The Queen had a way of making the King think he wanted what she wanted. 

Jason was used to being on the same side as his parents. He was used to wanting whatever they wanted, nodding whenever they needed him to, saying 'yes' to every order and question. He thought that that was the best for the country. But he was older now, and he wanted more control, more freedom.

At first, his treatment of Nico was nothing but an act of rebellion. He was interested in the boy, and it had been almost natural for him to always give Nico a little more affection, a little more attention, a little more of himself every time. So he held Nico's formal interview first, invited him on a date, even stood up for him on national television!

But he knew, ultimately, that there wasn't going to be a future for the both of them. He'd marry whoever his parents picked, Nico would go back to his province, and their lives would go on. That was just how it was. But why couldn't he accept that anymore?

Jason turned the shower off, wrapping a fluffy cotton towel around his waist before stepping out the bathroom. From his walk-in closet, he picked a national television-approved outfit: a one-button midnight-blue tuxedo with black dress pants. There was nothing about going live on TV on his schedule for today, but there was no telling with the Queen.

The morning bell rang right on time, and a few seconds after that came the usual knocks on his door - his attendants. He wondered what sort of letters his attendants would be bringing him this morning - interview invitations, probably, because of what the Queen did yesterday. He opened the door.

On the other side stood the princess.

"Her Majesty said His Royal Highness would be pleased to show me around," Bianca lowered her eyes, trying to appear demure in front of the cameras she knew were discreetly trailing them.

"Certainly," The prince answered in that stiff way she recognized from watching reruns of Olympus Royal Report.

The prince quickly closed his bedroom door behind him, putting a hand to the small of her back to guide her out of the hallway. He must've noticed the cameramen, because his posture was impeccable, his strides long and elegant. Or maybe that was how he really was.

"Would you like to see the gallery?" The prince politely asked.

"Whatever you wish," Bianca replied just as politely.

"We have paintings of the provinces - all works of the artist Rachel Dare."

"How wonderful," She made an effort to smile, turning her head a little to the side so the cameras could capture the scene. "I've always adored her landscape art."

"So have I."

They descended a gilded staircase, and Jason moved a step lower, holding out his hand. She took it graciously, lifting the skirts of her gown with her other hand. She knew how they looked - he in his midnight-blue tux and she in her floor-length gown - a prince and a princess, the stuff of fairy tales. The marriage was as good as done.

They entered the gallery, a high-ceilinged hall with paintings on the walls and statues spaced evenly throughout the room. Behind them, the doors were left conspicuously open, probably for the cameras. She and the prince moved to stand in front of one of the larger artworks - a golden thunderbolt on a pedestal of clouds. 

"A gift to my father," The prince said, his voice loud for the cameras following them.

Bianca wondered if the rest of her life with this man would be like this, filled with dull conversations about nothing, her every move televised and judged by the whole country. It didn't matter. She would make this sacrifice. She could endure anything -

"It's about time for breakfast," The prince said, after half an hour of vapid discussion on the various art pieces. "Shall we?"

She nodded, placing a hand on his arm. They made small talk as the prince steered them to the dining hall. She could endure the emptiness of his words, the way he looked over her shoulder. She could endure anything -

"We'll be sitting with my father," The prince said as he opened the doors.

"Fuck no."

A startled laugh escaped Jason's mouth.

He covered it up with a cough, embarrassed that such a simple remark threw him off so much. He couldn't help it; no one reacted to his father so bluntly and so rudely like that. Ever. He turned his head towards the princess, intending to reprimand her.

Instead, he saw another guy holding onto Nico's hand. Their heads were bent together in deep conversation, and Nico looked upset. That sobered him right up.

Jason narrowed his eyes and turned away when Nico looked up. He sighed, mentally chastising himself. It wasn't his business who Nico wanted to talk to, whether that was Percy his childhood friend or this blond Four. He just felt like it was, because he liked Nico.

But Nico liked Percy.

For the first time, Jason felt lost. He placed a hand on the small of Bianca's back, and headed for the shorter table reserved for the Royal Family, where his father and mother were chatting quite amicably. His father and mother... He had repeatedly disobeyed them these past days, something he wouldn't even dream of doing years ago. 

Even now, he was doubting the purpose of the Selection. He didn't want a marriage of convenience. He wanted to marry for himself, not for his parents, not for his country. He wanted the Selection to be his Selection.

"Please have a seat, Your Royal Highness," Jason pulled out the chair beside his, gesturing to the princess he knew his mother wanted him to end up with.

"Please, call me Bianca," She gracefully sat, giving a tight-lipped, almost pained smile.

"Wonderful!" Hera clapped her hands. "Just call my son Jason, then. No need for formality, darling."

"That's right. We're all family here," Zeus nodded. Then, he turned to Jason, casually handing him a plate of sliced hard-boiled eggs as he sat. "Eggs?"

"Thank you, Father," Jason accepted the plate and tried not to tense up. His father's bad mood was over, he reminded himself.

Besides, the man had most likely already forgotten what happened yesterday. Zeus was the type to live in the moment. He had mistresses, but he didn't care about illegitimate children. When rebels attacked the palace, he stopped them. But he didn't bother asking how or why they did it.

Zeus' attitude was frustrating and downright inconvenient at times, but at least it meant Jason didn't have to explain himself over and over whenever he made the rare mistake, like he did with Hera. And it seemed he was screwing up more often these days -

He glanced at the table of the Elite and saw that they had gone completely silent, the only sound in the room that of their utensils scraping against their plates. Jason felt like he should explain himself, explain the addition of a new Elite. He didn't want them to be kept in the dark, jerked around by Hera's whims. He didn't want them to get the wrong idea.

Especially not him.

"By the way, darling," Hera tapped Bianca's wineglass lightly. "Jason and I were talking last night."

Jason turned his attention back to the table, perplexed.

"And we thought it would be simply fantastic if we could hold a ball in your honor," Hera continued.

"Ah, yes, a ball would be lovely," Zeus nodded again.

"I don't think my arrival warrants such a generous gesture," The princess looked down, appearing demure, but Jason saw her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "But I would be very grateful indeed."

"Splendid!" Hera smiled, her tooth showing, like a shark. "Then we shall have a ball!"

Chapter Text

After breakfast, the Elite were ushered out of the dining hall, leaving only the Royal Family and the Princess in the room. As he passed through the wooden double doors, Nico willed himself not to look over his shoulder. He didn't want to see if Jason and the princess were still laughing together, lost in their own little world. He just wanted to get out and get away.

When they filed out into the hallway the air was thick with uncertainty, as if no one knew what to do with themselves. Some lingered leisurely in the hallway, while others cast longing looks towards the room they just left. Nico shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying not to feel lost.

"They said they would throw her a ball!" Katie shrieked, wringing Piper's lent handkerchief in her hands.

"M-maybe the Selection is over," Silena stammered, sounding like she was seconds away from tears.

Tears.

Nico couldn't even think of crying. He felt numb. It was just Jason and the princess laughing, such a stupid, simple, little thing. But seeing them together, looking like a couple straight out of a fairy tale, felt like a punch in the gut.

"Talking about it like this isn't going to get us anywhere," Reyna shook her head at them, before walking off. No doubt she already had a plan of action. Annabeth trailed after her and, surprisingly, so did Drew.

Nico put his arms around himself, dazedly watching as the group became smaller and smaller still. He ended up tagging along after the Elite that went to the commons room, hesitant to be alone with his thoughts. He dragged his feet all the way to the low-backed couches in the commons and sat down heavily beside Leo.

Leo and Calypso were nonchalantly talking of horses and secret passageways in the palace. On his other side, Io was wondering aloud about her fate after the Selection. Nico couldn't bring himself to care about any of them. He sank lower into the couch, as if trying to disappear.

As the noon bell rang, a Nine entered and bowed before them. "Please proceed to the lessons room," She said, pulling open the door for them.

"Is this it?" Katie whispered.

Zöe bravely took the lead, and the rest followed after her. Nico stood up sluggishly, but before he could step out the room, Leo held him back by the arm.

"Lover boy," Leo's words were teasing and affectionate, but his eyes were serious. "You came here to find someone, right?"

Nico nodded dumbly.

"Better go get her, then," He said. "We're about to go game over."

The lessons room looked the same as before, with a whiteboard and a teacher's desk up front, and chairs spaced evenly throughout. Nico remembered when the 2nd Selection Challenge took place in this very same room, and how he had gotten every question about Jason wrong. Back then there had been 40 chairs, 40 Selected, and all the time in the world.

He had wanted Percy and only Percy, back then.

Minutes after all the Elite found their way to the room, the Queen, Mr D, and the Princess sauntered through the doors. Nico's heart sank to his stomach. So this was it. He wondered if they would be allowed to see Jason for one last time. What would he say?

Hera stepped forward, the hem of her long teal dress sweeping the tiled floor. She gave one of her dazzling, national television-worthy smiles. "Good afternoon, Elites!"

"Good afternoon," The Elites murmured back, their usual enthusiasm gone.

Hera didn't seem to notice. She went on. "As you know, the First Princess of the Kingdom of Tartarus, my dear Bianca - " The Queen gestured to the Princess, who was standing beside her, " - has joined the Selection as an Elite."

Nico turned to the Princess. She was wearing a periwinkle dress with pleated skirts, and, of course, a crown on her head. She stood with the Queen proudly, confident she belonged there. Nico looked at the hands on his lap - hands rough and callused after years of mining - and kept his head down.

"In 2 days, the Kingdom of Olympus will formally welcome Bianca with a ball in her honor," She smiled at the Princess again. "The palace, of course, shall be receiving visitors from the Kingdom of Tartarus."

"Normally, Her Majesty is in charge of such dear, important guests," Mr D took over. He looked uncharacteristically formal in a dark-gray suit. "But we thought this visit would be an excellent learning opportunity for you all. It is time for you to learn about the inner workings of the life and the obligations of the Royal Family. For one of you will one day become the next princess of Olympus!"

They used to say Child of Olympus, Nico thought, but now it was just princess, as if Jason had already chosen who would win.

"Thus, your 4th Selection Challenge will be to prepare the reception for our guests, including meals, entertainment, and gifts." Mr D continued.

"If you need help regarding proper etiquette, and culture and customs, you may consult with me," The princess generously offered, speaking to them for the first time.

"You may begin!" Mr D spread his arms grandly.

Hades floated down the three-step ladder that emerged from the private plane, the hem of his dark, heavy cloak falling around him in rich folds. He had a face that was all sharp lines and angles, and his dark hair and dark eyes, coupled with the paleness of his skin, made him look like a rough draft, an unfinished sketch done in charcoal.

He waited at the foot of the plane's ladder, holding out a hand for the woman who exited after him - his wife, Persephone. Where his features were disdainful, hers were nothing but pleasant. She wore a floral-printed cocktail gown, flowers in her hair yellow as corn, and a bright smile on her face. They were as different as winter and spring.

Once the hot blasts from the plane propellers had stopped, 2 lines of smartly-dressed Elite greeted them. To Hades, they were mere children. He nodded at them politely anyway, because he still had appearances to keep up.

"Your Majesty," They chorused, bowing very formally. "Welcome to Olympus."

Persephone giggled, giving them a little curtsy of her own. She plucked one of the flowers off her hair and tucked it behind the ear of the closest Elite, a boy with dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin not so very different from Hades' own.

"Please follow us," A taller, bronze-skinned girl took the lead, a blonde moving to take the place beside her. They led the royal couple past the runway and through one of the many side entrances to the palace.

"We hope you had a pleasant flight," The blonde smiled. "We prepared a - "

Hades tuned her out, looking around. The palace was even grander than he remembered it. The tiles were an unblemished white, polished to a sparkle. The marble posts stretched all the way to the ceiling. The walls were hung with handwoven tapestries and the signatured paintings had golden frames.

Hades wanted to shake his head. He wondered just how much of the country's money his idiot of a brother had spent on useless purchases such as these. No matter. He'd fix things once he was in power again.

They stopped in front of the double doors that Hades knew led to a parlor. The Elites lined up on either side of the door, and pulled them open. Immediately, the sounds of soft music filled his ears, and Hades couldn't help but smile as Persephone almost danced into the room.

"It smells like the gardens," She sighed, tugging on his hand.

The reception was alright, Hades judged. The walls were covered with billowing fabrics in his Kingdom's color - purple - and everywhere there were flowers. The round tables, where his and Persephone's relatives were happily seated, had towering, sparkling centerpieces. A passing maid - a Nine, he recalled - handed him a crystal glass of wine.

"Father," He heard a voice call out.

He turned and saw his daughter walking towards him, wearing a lovely, purple off-shoulder gown. He could see by the bright smile on her face that she was holding back, trying not to run towards them.

Persephone beat her to it. His wife dropped her plate of hors d'oeuvres on the nearest table and leapt for their daughter, embracing her in a visibly-smothering hug. Bianca sheepishly waved at him over Persephone's shoulder, and Hades had to concede. This was a good reception.

That was, until his stupid brother and his she-devil and his hellspawn showed up, in a perfect row of perfect smiles, perfect white teeth, perfect blue suits. Hades felt his smile turn perfectly upside-down.

"Brother," Zeus grinned broadly and opened his arms for a giant hug.

Hades wanted to punch him in the face. Instead, he took a long, good, hard look at all the cameras in the room, which were most likely broadcasting the event worldwide. He took a deep breath and forced himself to step into the hug.

"Brother," He awkwardly said, patting Zeus in the back before stepping away less than a second later.

"How have you been?" Zeus asked, going for a handshake this time as if their hug hadn't been enough physical contact.

"Fine, my brother, fine," He answered.

"È questo bel ragazzo nostro genero?" Persephone went for Zeus' just-as-blond son, pinching his cheeks.

"Sì, mamma. La regina ha già promesso che avrei vinto la selezione," His daughter replied quietly.

"Meraviglioso! Sembra un ragazzo molto bello."

His brother's wife seemed put-off by the sudden change in language. No doubt she thought they were scheming. But the Tartarians didn't scheme, they planned. Hades gave her a wan smile and let her lead his family to their table at the center of the room.

He then spent the rest of the event sitting down with a bottle of wine, trying to avoid conversation and deflecting every question thrown his way to his wife. So many faces came and went by his table, Hades didn't bother keeping track of any of them.

As the sun was beginning to set, Hades decided he deserved a break. He stood from the table and headed outside, waving away the guards and attendants who tried to follow. This palace used to be his. He knew his way around, thank you very much.

Instead of heading for the washroom like he'd told his wife, he wandered around outside, checking all the things Zeus had changed in the palace. The previous King Kronos' symbol was a scythe, but it seemed Zeus had replaced every scythe he could find with his own symbols, a lightning bolt and an eagle in flight. Zeus had also made sure everything in the palace was in his color - blue, white, or gold.

Ten minutes later Hades was still 'wandering' the palace, and some time after that he finally admitted to himself that he was lost. He eyed the passing guards and maids, wondering if there was any way for him to ask for directions without actually asking. He stared at the painting in front of him and frowned.

"Mi scusi, Maestà, vi siete perso?" A voice softly asked.

Hades turned towards the voice, marveling at the sudden, perfect Tartarian. It was the boy from earlier, the one with Persephone's bright red flower in his dark hair.

Chapter Text

"Sì, ero," The King of Tartarus answered.

Nico loved the Tartarian language. It was the first language he ever learned, and the only language his mother used to sing lullabies in. After she passed away he rarely heard it anymore, and the yearning to hear someone else speaking those beautiful words only grew more and more.

He didn't think he would hear his mother tongue at the palace, of all places. But what shocked him more was the conversation that was held in his beloved Tartarian.

"Is this handsome boy our son-in-law?" The Tartarian queen had asked as she pinched Jason's cheeks.

When she asked that question, Nico thought it was nothing more than the queen being a doting mother. But then Princess Bianca had answered: "Yes, Mama," She said. "His mother has already promised I'll win the Selection."

Nico had staggered backwards, away from the two Royal Families. He could feel the color drain from his face. He sat down away from the crowd, at a table by the far side, and reached up to take the flower from his hair. Drew was correct, the Selection was over.

A hand stopped his.

"Don't, it looks good on you."

Nico looked up, and almost burst into tears as he saw smiling green eyes. He'd already decided that it was Jason he liked, but still Nico felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders when he saw the familiar face.

Percy took one look at his watery eyes, and the smile was wiped immediately from his lips. "You're not okay, huh?"

Nico shook his head, not trusting himself enough to speak.

"Well," Percy winced sympathetically. "I can see why."

He cocked his head towards the center of the parlor, and Nico saw Jason dancing with the Princess. Under the spotlight, they looked like they were glowing. They looked like magic, like happily-ever-after. Nico let out a shaky breath.

"Come on, get outside," Percy discreetly opened the side door he was guarding. "You don't need to see this."

Nico looked at Percy questioningly as he slipped past.

"Can't," Percy shook his head, reading his mind. "Too many Ones in here for me to skip out. And Beckendorf's missing, too. I'll come for you later."

With that, Nico stole out of the room. The guards outside paid him no attention, and he just kept on walking, putting one foot after another without a destination in mind. He came across the Tartarian King on the way to the washroom. Nico recognized him by the obsidian crown he wore, and he bowed before continuing on his way.

When he came back, the Tartarian King was still there, still staring at the same painting. Nico wanted to let him be and leave him alone. But it was obvious the King was lost, and Nico wanted nothing more than to have a conversation in Tartarian like he used to with his mother. He opened his mouth and spoke the first Tartarian he'd spoken in years.

"Girare a destra là, Maestà, e se si vede una porta con guardie appostate fuori, questo è il salotto," Nico pointed to the hallway leading to the parlor.

The King didn't move an inch. Instead, he looked at Nico curiously, raising a thin eyebrow. "You are?"

"Nico di Angelo, Eight, Your Majesty," Nico bowed again. "From Opus province."

"Your Tartarian is perfect."

"My mother was Tartarian," Nico looked down at his feet.

"Was? I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's nothing, Your Majesty." Nico said. "It happened twelve years ago."

"What was her name?"

"Maria di Angelo, Your Majesty."

All of a sudden, the King shot out a hand. Nico yelped as the King harshly yanked him forward by the back of his head. His other hand went to under Nico's chin, tilting his face upward with a bruising grip on his jaw. Nico watched helplessly as the flower in his hair fell to the tiled floor.

"Do you think this is funny, boy?" The King sneered. "Your idiot of a King put you up to this, didn't he? Everything's a joke to him."

Nico couldn't answer, because the hand on his jaw had moved to his throat. He stared into the cold dark eyes of King Hades.

"You have no respect," The King spat. "No respect for royalty, no respect for the dead."

Nico clawed at the hands at his throat.

"I don't have a son," The King lifted his bejeweled hand, and suddenly backhanded Nico across the hallway. Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned his back and went the way Nico had pointed him towards.

Nico stayed sprawling on the ground, shocked, his face stinging like hell. In a daze, he wondered if it was something he said, or something he did. But he had bowed, and he had used all the proper and respectful titles.

He remembered how King Zeus had done the same to his own son that night last week. He had shoved Jason, and the Prince went down hard, falling painfully on his back. The King of Tartarus was the brother of King Zeus, wasn't he? Maybe that was what being a King meant - the One among Ones, so far up the Number ladder they didn't care about those below them anymore.

Nico stood up on shaking legs, and covered his face. Nobody could see him like this, or they might figure out that he'd been stirring up trouble with the palace's guests. He didn't want to go home any earlier than he had to. He hadn't talked to Jason yet, hadn't said his goodbyes.

He hung his head and stumbled out of the hallway.

At the other end of the hallway, Hades had to place a hand on the wall to steady himself.

Chapter Text

Jason couldn't breathe.

He'd been doing nothing but smile the past few days, putting on a happy face for the world to see. But he could feel his brave front cracking under the expectant stares, the bright spotlight, and the ever-present cameras. He'd been helping the Queen host large functions like this since forever, but today's party was different.

Because today's party was essentially already an announcement, that the Tartarians and Olympians were friends, that the princess would win the Selection, that he would marry her.

Jason had already promised himself he was going to make the Selection his. Still, he couldn't make any stupid moves now, not with the whole world watching. So he smiled for the Tartarian Royal Family and took their princess by the hand and danced with her under the spotlight.

As night fell over the kingdom, Jason sat down to take a breather. He avoided all members of both royal families - even the cousins and in-laws - and the secretaries of state. Instead, he headed for a table with reporters he recognized, indulging them in small talk.

He scanned the room as he talked, and was satisfied to see that their guests and the Elite were enjoying themselves. But the lights in the room were getting dimmer to give the parlor that soft, evening glow, and Jason couldn't see the mop of dark hair he was looking for.

He sought out his personal guard.

"Have you seen Nico anywhere?" He asked, although it pained him to admit to himself that Nico was probably closer to this guard than to him.

"He went out a while ago," Percy answered casually.

"Would you happen to know where?"

"Look, man, I don't know," Percy shrugged. "And I'm glad you're concerned about him, but maybe you should leave him alone tonight, yeah?"

Jason tried not to be irritated at that statement, he really did. But he could feel his skin prickling, could feel his hands balling into fists. He gave his guard one of his polite yet fake, national television-approved smiles, before walking out of the parlor.

"Did any of the Elites leave the reception?" He asked the guard stationed outside, keeping his question purposefully vague.

"Di Angelo did, Your Royal Highness, half an hour ago," The guard replied. "And Beauregard 2 hours before that."

"Thank you," Jason nodded. "As you were, then."

The hallways outside the parlor were empty save for Nines, and so were the hallways in the nearest wing. Jason knew Nico wasn't familiar with the palace, so unless he was lost, there was only one other place he could be.

Nico splashed his face with cold water, and again, and again. But when he looked up into the mirror above his bathroom sink, the huge, purplish-black bruise under his right eye was still there. It stared back at him angrily, accusingly.

There was no way he could show this face to Jason. What would the Prince think? And what would the others say about him during the Royal Report? That he was just another low Number who liked to pick fights?

He rubbed his eyes harshly. He filled the sink with water and dunked his head under. Over the gurgling sound in his ears, he heard a knock at the door.

Jason knocked on the door, and again, and again.

It didn't open, and Jason stood there, dumbfounded. He placed a hand on the doorknob, wondering where else Nico could be. It turned, unlocked.

Immediately, Jason's training kicked in, and his mind conjured all the worst-case scenarios he'd been prepared for. Was it a kidnapping? Was it the rebels? Either way, he'd have to get the palace guards to check the room for signs of forced entry. If it were the rebels, he could negotiate, give them whatever they want -

He shoved the door open.

On the other side stood Nico.

The light from the hallway spilled into the dark room.

Nico gulped. He saw Jason's electric blue eyes widen at the sight of him, and suddenly the Prince was striding into the room, large hands reaching for Nico. He gently cradled Nico's jaw with one hand, the other hand tenderly touching the bruised and split skin on the side of his face. His blue eyes then traveled down Nico's neck, no doubt seeing the finger-shaped marks wrapped around his throat.

"Who did this?" Jason asked in a voice that was deadly calm.

Nico shook his head as he pushed the Prince away. He couldn't tell Jason what happened. He gritted his teeth. "It was nothing. I had a-an… accident."

"An accident," The Prince repeated flatly as he caught Nico's wrists.

Nico nodded. He lifted his eyes to meet Jason's gaze, his blue eyes the only thing in the dark room that held any color. Nico was struck by how much the color of Jason's eyes resembled King Zeus.' But there was none of the King's cold indifference, just warm affection that made him feel like he was someone special, someone important.

"I'm clumsy," Nico attempted a smile.

At that, the Prince released his hands. He looked so pained it was as if he were the one with bruises all over his face, so helpless Nico almost wanted to tell him everything.

"It's okay," Nico murmured, reaching up to pat Jason's cheek the same way the Prince had comforted him all those days ago, during the first Selection Challenge at Port Market. But then he remembered he wasn't supposed to touch royalty. His hand froze in mid-air.

Jason looked at his hand and grabbed it, pulling him close and then closer, until their bodies were flushed together. He felt Jason's strong arms wrap around him, Jason's rapid heartbeat against his chest, Jason's warm breath on his ear. It was as though everything else had disappeared, because there was only Jason, Jason, Jason.

Jason had failed.

He had been trying so hard to do everything right that he hadn't noticed Nico was gone until it was too late. Now, Nico had marks all over his face and neck, and Jason had no idea who did it. It could've been another Elite, one of the Tartarian guests, a member of the media, anybody.

"It's not your fault," Nico whispered, lips moving against Jason's collarbone. "Besides, I'm tough, you know. I'm an Eight, remember?"

Jason wanted to fall to his knees. It was his fault. He'd been too complacent with how things were, thinking it was enough that he'd included Nico in the Elite. He'd been swallowed by his duties as a Prince, becoming too busy to care about the 1 person who actually mattered to him.

"Who did this?" He asked again, because it was the only way he knew how to make this right.

Nico pressed himself closer against Jason's chest, smoothing his fingers down Jason's back as if to comfort the prince. Jason thought it should've been the other way around - Nico was the one in pain, not him - but he held on anyway, clinging to Nico like his life depended on it.

He knew what he was doing was shameful, a display of weakness. His mother would've narrowed her perfectly-shaped eyebrows at him, would've told him that he wasn't acting like a member of the Royal Family. But Jason wasn't afraid of letting Nico see this part of him.

"Look, I have something to say," Nico said as he slowly pulled away from Jason's embrace. "Before they make me go - "

"Who's they?" Jason startled and snapped his hands to Nico's elbows. He didn't want to let Nico out of his arms, not now, and it seemed not ever.

" - I want you to know that I - "

"Where are they making you go?"

Nico ignored Jason. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked up into the prince's eyes. "I like you."

Chapter Text

Now that he'd finally admitted his feelings, Nico felt weightless. His chest was so light he felt like he could do anything, like disappear into shadows or command whole armies. The only thing keeping him in the present was Jason's hands on his arms. And the dumbstruck look on his face.

"Y-you like... me?" Jason repeated incredulously.

Nico wanted to smack him upside the head. Nico wanted to kiss him as well. He settled for trying to wriggle out of Jason's embrace, before he had any more weird ideas. Confessing his feelings was enough for today.

"You like me," Jason breathed, disbelief in his voice.

Nico remembered when they were first formally introduced, how the Prince couldn't believe Nico didn't know who he was. It seemed the Prince had a hard time believing many things.

"Are you really not gonna let me go?" Nico finally asked. He cast his eyes about his room, looking at the mauve drapes framing the balcony door, the amethyst-studded vanity mirror, the purple lamps on the end tables. He looked everywhere except Jason's blue eyes.

"Oh! Sorry," Jason dropped his hands, looking sheepish. His pink lips parted in a shy, apologetic smile, revealing a row of white teeth as perfect as the rest of him. For once, his brows weren't furrowed in worry or stress. His bright blue eyes seemed brighter, lighting up the room like twin suns.

Nico felt warm and tingly from his head to his toes, just from being here with Jason. He had never seen Jason like this before, stripped of his masks and wearing his heart on his sleeve. Nico wished he could freeze this moment, if only so Jason stayed this happy forever.

But he knew all good things must come to an end.

And in his case, the end was coming soon.

Nico liked him.

Jason couldn't believe it. He was so happy he felt like he could do anything, like fly up into the clouds or shoot lightning from his palms. The only thing keeping his feet on the ground was Nico, frowning adorably in his arms.

"I-I don't know what to say," Jason stuttered, surprising himself. He never stuttered.

"Thank you for choosing me, for the Selection, and for the Elite as well," Nico smiled sadly. He took a step back, looking at Jason as if he were a world away instead of right next to him. "I-I really enjoyed the time we had together, even if it was... short."

"Why are you talking like that?" Jason asked, his voice rising in panic.

Because of Nico, Jason had come to be grateful of the Olympian tradition of holding the Selection. He'd realized that there were things he wanted, and that was okay. Sometimes, the things he wanted weren't the same as his parents, and that was okay, too. Because at the end of the day he was still Jason, and to some people that was already enough.

"I'm... leaving, a-aren't I?" This time, Nico's reply was slower and less sure.

"Why do you want to leave? Is it because of the person who hurt you?" Jason latched onto Nico's uncertainty like a drowning man. "I'll never let him touch you again, I swear, just tell me who it is and I'll - "

"That's not it," Nico shook his head, the same sad smile on his lips. He opened his mouth, then shut it as tears started to form in his eyes.

"Please talk to me," Jason pleaded. All his life he had been taught to be proud, but now all he wanted to do was beg Nico not to cry. He curled his hands into fists, patiently waiting even as tears fell down Nico's cheeks.

A moment passed before Nico started talking, but when he did, his voice shook as much as his shoulders. "I-I heard… Princess Bianca talking to her mother, a-and she said - " A sob escaped his lips and he put a hand to his mouth to quiet the sound.

Jason grit his teeth. He could feel rage rising to just beneath his skin. The Tartarian Royal Family were guests and important would-be allies, so Jason had been treating them well, putting up with all their requests for the better part of the night. But Kronos help them if they were the ones who hurt Nico, because -

" - she said Her Majesty Hera already promised the Princess would win the Selection."

Jason's head reeled.

"What. The. Fuck."

Nico never thought he'd ever hear the Prince curse, but here it was. He chuckled a little despite the tears, and was rewarded with a small smile erasing the enraged expression on Jason's face. Jason's anger gave Nico hope. Maybe the Prince didn't know about the plan. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't approve of it.

"When and where did you hear them talking?" Jason asked. His agitation and confusion were evident in his tone.

"Just… this evening, a while ago," Nico answered.

"Did anyone else hear?"

"I-I think so?" Nico frowned. "But I don't think anyone else speaks Tartarian. They were talking in Tartarian, you see."

"Alright, let me get this straight," Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. "Her Royal Highness Bianca told Her Majesty Persephone that my mother promised she would win the Selection. Yes?"

Nico nodded timidly, feeling like he was just adding to Jason's list of worries. He hung his head and wondered if he shouldn't have spoken at all. He was just an Eight, anyway, meddling in the affairs of Ones.

As always, Jason seemed to sense his anxiety. He bent forward, putting him on the same eye-level as Nico. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this… And I'm sorry you had to hear that. I knew my mother was planinng something behind our backs."

"I-I know it's - it's none of my business," Nico whispered.

"What are you talking about? It is your business," Jason said, matter-of-factly.

"Because I'm part of the Selection?" Nico couldn't help but ask.

"It's not that," Jason shook his head.

"Then why?" Nico pressed.

Jason straightened his back and turned away, towards the lilac four-poster bed. The room was dark as night, but Nico could see that the Prince's cheeks were turning redder and redder by the moment. For some reason, he looked terribly embarassed. Still, he cleared his throat, looked into Nico's eyes, and answered his question.

"Because I like you, too."

Chapter Text

Nico said nothing. Briefly, he wondered if he was dreaming.

"I like you," The Prince repeated, looking bashful.

Still, Nico kept his mouth shut.

"Nico?" The Prince closed the distance between them, stepping into a pool of light streaming through the drawn curtains. The moonlight bathed him in a golden glow. Despite the confusion in his eyes, he looked beautiful, like a statue of the gods.

Slowly, so as to make sure the Eight knew what he was thinking, Jason reached out and cupped Nico's cheek. His hand was large and warm and gentle, and with his thumb he brushed away the traces of Nico's tears.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier," He said. "And I'm sorry if I gave you reason to doubt my feelings."

"Please don't apologize, Your Royal Highness," Nico placed his hand over Jason's.

A small voice at the back of his head told him this was impossible. There was no way the Prince could like him. He was neither a Princess, nor was this a fairy-tale. The Prince was just giving him false hope that they could be together, hope that would be inevitably dashed to pieces later on.

"Jason. It's Jason. Please, call me by my name," Jason demanded, and just like that he quieted the nagging voice in Nico's head.

"Jason," Nico said. He liked the feel of the Prince's name on his lips, but he loved the flushed, breathless look that settled over Jason's features at hearing his name.

Jason's eyes were bright, and his smile was so wide it must've been hurting his cheeks. He looked so happy Nico thought he might start jumping up and down soon. Nico laced his fingers through Jason's and quietly chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Jason asked, releasing Nico's hand and drawing the Eight into his arms. He put a hand between Nico's shoulder blades, and the other at the small of his back.

Nico couldn't help the thrill that ran through him at their proximity. He couldn't believe that he'd once thought Jason - and his blue eyes and his warm smile and his calm voice - was familiar, because this was everything but. The feeling of Jason's arm around him, Jason's lips pressed against the top of his head,  Jason's heartbeat under his ear - all of it was so new and different.

Nico had never been this close to another person before. He was used to keeping people at a distance, because he'd always been afraid that he'd eventually lose them, the way he lost his mom and Hazel's and even Percy. But this was Jason, and ever since Nico joined the Selection, Jason had done nothing but catch the Eight whenever he fell.

Nico rested his cheek on the Prince's chest, glad he took the leap and confessed. Even if Jason changed his mind tomorrow and decided he'd rather marry the Princess, Nico would still treasure the memory of this embrace forever. There wasn't a single thing he'd change about this night.

Because the chance to be with Jason was worth every possible heartbreak.

Since Nico joined the Selection, Hazel had been busier than ever.

She'd wake up before sunrise and head to the nearby caves to do some mining, a job which used to be Nico's. Then, she'd return home and cook enough breakfast to feed a small town. The rest of the day she'd spend attending to the visitors who came from all over the province. Some of them brought gifts of foods and fruits, but most of them bore gossip.

"Look at this," A woman with short brown hair was seated on the tiny couch in the living room, a tattered magazine spread out on the chipped coffee table in front of her. "We're not the only ones who think that Tartarian girl shouldn't be there!"

Hazel's other visitor was a blonde who often came over with her children. She plopped down beside the brunette and snatched the magazine away, accidentally tearing the lower portion of the page. "How old is this thing?"

"A few weeks," The first woman beamed proudly. "I was in Artemisum the other day, and I saw this hairdresser reading that. She said one of her clients near the Capital gave it to her to throw away. She took it home and traded it to me for a couple of gems!"

Hazel was stirring a pot of soup in the kitchen, but because the house was so tiny, she could see and hear everything that went on in the living room. She frowned at the woman's statement, wondering what else she could've gotten for 'a couple of gems.' A basket of fresh fruits, probably, and yet she was wasting it on an old, tattered magazine just so she could keep their backwater province updated.

"'64% of Olympians disagree with the involvement of Her Royal Highness Bianca of Tartarus with the Selection,'" The brunette read, raising an eyebrow. "Only 64%? What happened to the whole Child-of-Olympus thing?" 

"Well, whatever happens, I'm not going to accept that foreigner as my Queen."

The blonde's daughter peeked at the magazine from behind the couch, where she was playing with her younger brother. "They're throwing her a party!" She shrieked happily.

"What!" Her mother put a hand to her chest. She leaned forward, her shoulder-length golden hair almost brushing the magazine's glossy pages. "It says they're holding it at the end of the month!"

"But that was last week! And Hermes didn't mention anything during the Royal Report!" The brunette looked panicked, then thoughtful. "He did say they were going to have a special episode soon..."

"But he didn't say when!" The blonde cried out. "What if it airs when the Services Office isn't showing the public access channel?"

The brunette sighed and turned to Hazel. "You should really buy a TV, dear. Zeus knows you can afford it."

Hazel just laughed. Not once did she ever think of the money that arrived every month as just hers. It was Nico's, too, so Hazel never spent a single drachma more than was absolutely necessary.

"How's my brother doing in the popularity polls?" She asked, to distract them.

"Not good," The blonde picked up the magazine and flipped to a page by the back. "He's sliding down the ranks."

"And that Five is still at the top," The brunette shook her head disdainfully. "People need to get over that little party song of hers. So she can sing. Big deal. She's a Five. They should hear Nico sing."

"An Eight who sings like an angel," The blonde nodded enthusiastically. "Now that's something for the magazines."

Hazel laughed again. Nico wasn't the type of person to enjoy being in the spotlight, and since that video of him kicking the Prince was broadcast nationwide, it seemed his camera-shyness had worsened ten-fold. His interviews were almost criminally short, and he always looked so stiff in his photographs.

Hazel figured that was why his popularity was falling, but it didn't matter to her. She wanted whatever he wanted, although he probably didn't know yet what that was. She was looking forward to the day he'd finally make up his mind.

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.

"I'll get it!" The blonde visitor's cheerful daughter leapt for the door before any of the adults could stop her.

Hazel hurriedly wiped her hands on her apron and headed out the kitchen. The girl's mother tutted as her daughter stood on her toes to reach the doorknob and swing the door open.

Two tall men stood in the doorway, sharply dressed in fitted black suits. Over their left breastpockets was an embroidered purple patch, depicting a helm on top of a scythe. They made Hazel stop in her tracks.

"Is this the house of Makaria, daughter of Mintha, Eight?" The taller one asked.

"Nope!" The little girl chirped.

Hazel regained her senses. With quick steps, she pulled the child back and stepped in front of the door, blocking the men's view of her tiny house. She drew herself up to her full height and looked at the man in the eye. "Who's asking?"

"Representatives from your government," The man pulled an ID from the backpocket of his pants and flipped it open.

Hazel frowned. The letters were all wrong, and she couldn't read a single word. She suddenly felt cold to her stomach.

"You're at the wrong house," She said, keeping her voice steady and even. "Please leave."

She closed the door immediately, leaning her body against the cheap wood. Important-looking men like those didn't belong in small towns like this. Hazel knew that wasn't enough to warrant the dread that settled over her, but she knew better than to dismiss her gut feeling.

"Who was that?" One of her visitors asked, looking up from the magazine.

"Nothing important, I hope," Hazel answered. She turned back to the door, and did the locks.

Chapter Text

The party was well-attended, with royalty from Olympus and Tartarus, and dignitaries from countries allied with both. It was even more well-covered, with reporters having flown in from all over the world. Bianca would consider the event a huge success, if it weren't for the fact that the Prince disappeared hours before it ended.

"If he's anything like his father, and I'm quite sure he is, then he's most likely having relations with some floozy in one of the palace quarters," Her father Hades shook his head.

"Darling!" Persephone hissed, hastily looking at the rest of the party-goers scattered around them. "You musn't say that!"

Hades continued talking to his daughter, lowering his voice just the slightest bit. "Putting up with infidelity is a small price to pay for becoming Queen, dear. You can't let that sort of thing bother you."

"I know, Father," Bianca sighed. "But I don't think the Prince is that type." Bianca wasn't lying. She knew the Prince, knew that he was serious to the point of aloofness, and distant to the point of detachment. In all honesty, he was more like Hades than Zeus. Bianca was confident his absence from the party was because he had to fix some emergency and deal with whatever behind-the-scenes problem had arisen from hosting such a large party. She was sure she had no reason to worry.

Well, maybe she did.

Because out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of their men coming closer. He was dressed in black from head to toe, the only color on him that of the purple patch on his breastpocket. Bianca frowned at his approach. She knew he wouldn't be bothering them if he didn't have news.

Respectfully, the man bowed his head to Hades. "Your Majesty, we've found her."

Bianca, Hades, and Persephone all knew what that meant, yet for a split-second, Hades' dark eyes widened. The blank expression on his face had gone, replaced by one of shock, and it was such a foreign sight that Bianca felt herself gripped by fear and confusion. Like a child, she reached for her mother's hand.

It was cold as ice.

Persephone was having the time of her life.

Here, she was the Queen of Tartarus, honoured guest, object of admiration. The Olympians waited on her hand-and-foot. They treated her the way they treated their royalty, their Ones. There were no duchesses and countesses mocking her with their painted eyes, gossiping about her barrenness behind their frilly fans. All those below her - which was almost everyone - acted with respect and deference. They knew their place.

This Numbers system was actually wonderful!

She wasn't even barren, she wanted to scream sometimes. The doctor said it was just difficult for her to conceive! She remembered the day the doctors first broke the news to her. It was as if the color and warmth had been sucked from her life, turning her spring days into winter. She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. It took her half a year to get over the shock.

Now, hearing the messenger's words and watching as her husband's face goes pale, she felt as if she were going through all of that again.

Bianca quietly squeezed her hand.

"Your Majesty, we've found her."

The official reason for Hades' visit to Olympus was to attend the ball as a guest of honor. But his real purpose was to find a long-lost child, a daughter he reportedly had with a florist. This daughter was to become the Second Princess of the Kingdom of Tartarus, and the heir to the throne once Bianca became Queen of Olympus. She was the last piece of the puzzle, the key to ruling another Kingdom.

And now, here she was.

Persephone looked at her daughter. No, daughter wasn't the right word. Bianca wasn't her daughter, not really. She was Hades'. He took her in because they needed a child. And because the girl's mother was dead.

Her mother was Maria, Hades' lover from Olympus. She was a singer. Or was she an actress? Persephone couldn't remember, but she did remember that they were happy. So happy that Hades brought her all the way to Tartarus when he married Persephone. One day, she ran away, hiding so well even Persephone's people lost her.

Persephone didn't know what happened after that. Some said she returned to Olympus. Some said she never made it back. But all of them agreed she was dead. Hades went looking for her. She never came back, but a young baby girl did. The baby had dark hair and dark eyes, like her husband. Persephone decided to accept her, decided she was the lesser of two evils. She was named Bianca.

And today it seemed they were going to have another daughter just like her.

Chapter Text

One of the occupational hazards of being a guard was that one eventually grew to be overly cautious, and Percy, laidback and carefree as he was, was no exception.

From his position by the side door of the grand hall, he watched as two of the foreign guards from the Tartarian Royal Family discreetly whispered something into the ears of the King. That something clearly wasn't good news, judging from the look on the King's face. Now, Percy wasn't privy to all the politics of the Palace, and he didn't know what the Tartarian king’s frown  meant, if it even meant anything at all...

But Jason surely did.

Percy scanned the crowd, looking for either the Prince or Beckendorf, who was still missing. Unfortunately, despite his efforts, he knew he wouldn't be able to find them without moving from his spot. The moment another guard passed in front of him, Percy quickly grabbed the him by the elbow.

"Hey," He started, giving the other guard an easy smile. "Mind covering for me for a minute?"

"Can't," Zhang turned around, making a face. "Too many Ones–"

"–To skip out," Percy finished for him, recalling the same words he'd said to Nico earlier. He let go of Zhang and gestured to the party. "I know. Look at this crowd. And Beckendorf's–"

"–Missing, too." This time, it was Zhang who cut him off. Zhang sighed. "I'd say it was unlike him, but even Chiron's noticed he's been a little... strange... these past few weeks."

Percy nodded, remembering how Beckendorf had shown up to events he hadn't been assigned to. Maybe he was gunning for a promotion? But whatever it was, Percy didn't have time for it right now.

"Listen, Zhang," Percy said as he leaned closer to the other guard. "I really need to find the Prince."

Zhang sighed again, looking hesitant, but eventually he agreed, wearily rubbing his eyes with a fist. Percy clapped him on the back, grinning broadly, before setting off for the main doors of the hall. If he couldn’t find Jason in here, then surely that meant he was out there, right?

He stopped in front of the guards stationed by the main door. "Where did Jason say he was going?"

"He didn't say," Stoll shrugged. "Just asked if any of the Elites had left the party."

"And?" Percy prodded.

"Well di Angelo did, about an hour ago," The other guard, another Stoll, answered. "And Beauregard two hours before that."

Percy nodded his thanks and slipped out the doors.

He sped through the maze of hallways, his standard-issue boots clacking on the black-and-white checkered tiles. There was only one thing on his mind – finding Nico, because something told him that he'd find Jason wherever Nico was.

He thought that maybe, just maybe, Nico liked Jason. But Percy didn't think Jason liked the Eight back. Not with the way the Prince acted around the other Elites.

And him?

Before Percy could answer his own question, the sound of a commotion reached his ears, and a crowd of reporters materialized around the corner. They were shoving and practically climbing over each other, loudly speaking into their phones and microphones as they waved their cameras around. Percy stepped aside to let them pass.

"This scandal is the latest development in the Selection!" One of the reporters held a mic to her mouth as she walked, her cameraman struggling to keep up with her. "This is happening right now !"

What the hell? Percy thought.

"You heard it first here, folks," Another one said. "Not the Olympus Royal Report, or Good Morning Olympus!, but the Tanaka Entertainment Network!"

Percy stopped in his tracks.

"What would His Royal Highness say about this?" Another reporter asked the oversized camera in his face. "This is a huge blow to his Number. And in front of the international community, too!"

Percy turned around and followed them.

Nico always thought that his room at the palace was too big, the four-poster bed too soft and unfamiliar. He had spent many a sleepless night in this bedroom, often anxious and afraid. But now Jason was here and it seemed his world had turned itself upside down.

Now Nico felt as if the room was too small , so small that he could feel the Prince's warmth everywhere. Now he thought the bed was too comfortable, so comfortable he'd sink right through it as he sat on the edge, eyes closed as the Prince gently pressed an ice pack to his bruised skin. Although he was still anxious and afraid, it was for an entirely different reason now.

"Better?" Jason asked quietly, as if they were sharing in a secret.

Nico nodded. He thought that maybe they were sharing secrets in a way.

Jason returned the ice pack to the first-aid kit they found in the bathroom. He walked back to Nico with determination in his step, and Nico knew what he wanted to say even before he opened his mouth. "You need to tell me who did this."

Nico closed his eyes again. He didn't want to say anything about it earlier because he couldn't risk getting into trouble and being separated from Jason. But he wasn't scared anymore. He trusted Jason, and he wanted to confide in the Prince.

"It was the King," Nico said softly.

 "My…" Jason gaped at him. "… My Father?"

"No!" Nico shook his head, trembling. "It was - your uncle. The King of Tartarus."

Jason listened to Nico retell his encounter with the Tartarian King. He didn’t interrupt even once, but he could feel the white-hot rage starting to boil underneath his skin. He clenched his fists, and turned his eyes towards the ceiling.

He knew he didn’t have to pretend to be the perfect Prince they made him out to be on television– he’d trembled with anger in front of Nico earlier after all– but he still wanted the Eight to think him a capable, reliable man who he could depend on and confide in. He sat down beside Nico and decided to push his feelings aside. Being overwhelmed with anger wasn't going to help Nico. He needed to do what he did best– think.

But before he could even get a word out, Nico spoke again.

"Is it because I'm an Eight?" He asked softly, eyes downcast.

Jason thought about it. Number-based discrimination wasn't uncommon in Olympus, and it wasn't unthinkable that the Tartarian King, who used to be Olympian, was still hung up on the Number hierarchy. However, Jason remembered that when Hades was still heir to the throne, he would always consider how his policies would affect all the Numbers. He had certainly been more concerned about the people than Zeus ever was.

"No, I don't think so." Jason massaged his temples, picking apart Nico's story and putting it back together, detail by detail. What was he missing? "Your mother– her name was Maria?"

"Yes," Nico lifted his eyes to Jason. "Maria di Angelo.”

Jason reached across Nico’s back to place an arm on the boy’s shoulder and pull him close. Nico didn’t resist, resting his cheek on Jason’s shoulder, his hands laying limp in his lap. And Jason wanted to melt. He wanted to press his body against Nico’s and feel the other’s warmth. He wanted to trace paths on Nico’s skin with his fingertips.

He didn’t.

“Maria di Angelo, right?” Jason struggled to remember what they’d been talking about. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Yes, she was a Five.”

“I see...” Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “His first wife had the same name. Maybe he thought you were trying to pass yourself off as his son?”

“Does that happen?” Nico asked, his cheek shifting against Jason’s shoulder.

“Often enough.”

Jason went quiet for a moment, still thinking about how to confront the King of Tartarus and make the him realize his mistake.

“I’m not lying, you know,” Nico whispered.

“I don’t think you are,” Jason said quickly.

“Do you think I could maybe talk to the King?”

Jason didn’t know why this bothered Nico so much. All he knew was that this was important to Nico. And deep down, Jason knew that that was enough for him. There was a long silence, and then Jason spoke again.

“I’ll see when you two can meet.”

Chapter Text

The only sounds Jason could hear were those of the music coming from the party, muted by the distance between the grand hallway and the room, and Nico's soft, even breathing beside him. With the sliver of moonlight streaming through the drawn curtains, he could faintly make out the rise and fall of Nico's chest, the shape of Nico’s face, his jet-black hair splayed against the pillow. Wrapped in the bed’s plush blankets and the peaceful quiet of Nico's room, Jason could almost pretend they were in a different world.

Nico had fallen asleep after Jason treated his bruises, but Jason refused to even close his eyes.  He knew that this moment with Nico was a fleeting dream that he could be woken up from any minute. Seconds later, he was proven correct by the sound of three loud, angry knocks on Nico's door, the sound of reality crashing down on their little world.

Nico startled awake, grasping at the blankets and accidentally pulling them off Jason. His eyes were wide, but he visibly relaxed upon seeing the Prince. Jason smiled at him and he nervously smiled back, eyes flitting to the door.

"Mr. di Angelo, please open the door!" Shouting had started to accompany the banging on the door.

Jason sat up from the bed, frowning, and moved for the door. He wondered if there was an emergency, or if this was the usual way the Palace staff or guards called for the Selected. He desperately hoped not. He hated to think of Nico being bothered this way every day.

"Um, wait," Nico swung his legs over the bed. “Maybe I should open the door.”

"Why?" Jason said, although he knew the reason perfectly well.

If it got out that he'd been missing the party to hang out with a Selected in their room, rumours would be flying faster than his father’s newest private jet. However, there were also more pressing matters in Jason’s mind, like who the man on the other side of the door was, why he was stopping by Nico's room at such an hour, and if he had something to do with what had happened to the Eight earlier.

Jason took a calming breath, and pulled open the door.

If someone were to ask, Percy would say he was surprised at what he saw, though he honestly wasn't. Because in truth, he should have seen this coming. The signs were all there, but maybe he had simply refused to see them. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter anymore. No sign was clearer than this one.

They were both sprawled out in the middle of the hallway, their tattered clothing the only splashes of color against the black-and-white checkered tiles. Their faces were sickly pale under the constant, near blinding flashes of what seemed to be a hundred cameras, their heads bowed in shame. They curled into each other, as if to hide and protect the other from the rest of the world.

Behind them was an open door, and beyond the doorway, Percy could see a small, dark bedroom with torn blankets and pillows strewn all over the floor. The reporters continued their scathing commentary on everything, from the state of the bedroom to the pair's state of undress. As the seconds passed, the hallway became more and more crowded with onlookers as other guards, Palace staff, and Selected arrived after hearing the commotion.

Percy didn't know what to do. In all his time in the Palace, this had never happened before. He wasn’t a One with the power to stop all of whatever this was with a word. He wasn’t Jason, who could think and talk his way out of anything. Still, he knew there was no way the two would be able to protect themselves, let alone each other, from what was to come.

He did the only thing he knew how - he burst into action.

"Make way for His Royal Highness the Prince's personal guard!” He shouted. “Make way!"

He shouldered his way through the crowd of reporters and onlookers to the mess he knew would put Jason in diplomacy hell and PR high waters, to his friend Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard.

Frank almost fell on his behind.

Instead of the short, timid, black-haired black-eyed boy he'd seen around the Palace, the door opened to reveal His Royal Highness the Prince, towering over him in a pristine, white dress shirt and eyes clear and blue as ice, not a strand of golden blond hair out of place. He stood in the doorway, blocking Frank's view of the room.

Frank remembered all the stories Jackson had told him of how "nice" the Prince was, and how "different" he was from all the other Ones. But in that moment, all he could think of was how much the Prince reminded him of the King, from the way he stood -

"May I help you?" The Prince asked coolly.

- to the way he talked.

Frank willed himself to calm down. He was a new recruit, and he'd never addressed a One directly before. But that was no excuse to screw up, especially now, during an emergency. He straightened his back and cleared his throat.

"There's been a situation down at the west wing by the guard barracks," Frank said in a single breath. A beat later, he realized his mistake and added, "Your Highness, Sir."

"What manner of situation?"

"Well, a, um, a Selected, one of them, I mean, was caught in a..." Frank felt like his heart was about to beat out his chest. Nobody told him he'd have to explain what had happened to the Prince of all people! "... Caught in a compromising situation with a guard and- "

"What does that have to do with Nico?" The Prince suddenly cut him off, blue eyes narrowing.

Frank gulped. The Prince seemed irritated, to put it mildly. Had he said something wrong? Was the Prince's patience with him running thin?

"The guards were ordered to, um, secure the Selected, Sir, so that they don't get badgered by the reporters." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And so that there aren't any more situations."

The Prince nodded in grim understanding. He looked over his shoulder at the room for a second before turning back to Frank again. "A moment, please."

Frank nodded, sighing once the Prince had closed the door. He slumped against the wall and tried not to wonder what the Prince was doing in a Selected's room. Wondering would only get him in trouble, and trouble would just get him kicked out of the Palace. He wasn't Jackson, who could dive headfirst into any situation and come out with his neck intact. He was just Frank Zhang, so he kept his head down and looked the other way.

The door swung open again.

"I'll go to the west wing myself.” The Prince stepped out, still perfectly blond and blue-eyed as before, but this time with a black suit coat over his dress shirt. “Guard this room until I come back."

"Yes Your Highness," Frank answered quickly, trying not to think about why the Prince had taken off his outerwear inside the room.

The Prince walked off with a frown, and Frank settled back against the wall with more never-to-be-asked questions.

Chapter Text

Charles felt numb.

He couldn't feel the cold of the marble flooring underneath him, nor could he feel the bruises that he knew were forming on his arms, made by the many cruel hands that dragged him and Silena out of the bedroom and into the hallway. He could only look at the crowd of reporters circling them like a pack of hyenas, laughing at them with crueler eyes.

Charles wasn't going to pretend that he didn't know what he did. He wasn't innocent, and he could admit that. Silena was an Elite, who became property of the Kingdom and the Royal Family the moment she joined the Selection. Charles was a guard. He had no business being with her.

But… Silena was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen, and the kindest soul he'd ever met. He was happiest when he was with her, and he only had to look at her to realize he didn’t, couldn’t regret what they had done.

If he were given the choice to do it all over again, he wouldn't have changed a thing.

"Make way for His Royal Highness the Prince's personal guard!" Someone shouted with a strong and steady voice that cut through the cacophony of the crowd. "Make way!"

This was it.

Someone had finally come to take them away.

He turned to Silena and said, "I love you," hoping to convey how much he meant it with his eyes and hands and lips. He'd always known it would end like this. He'd been in the Palace for far too long to know that no secret ever remained secret. In this place, the walls had ears and the doors had eyes.

"I love you too," she smiled, though her eyes were wide and afraid. "What's going to happen to us?"

For Charles, the consequences would be dire. If he were lucky, he'd be stripped of his position as guard, and his Number would be lowered. Everything he'd worked for his whole life would be ripped from his hands. If that didn’t happen, well, at least there would be nothing to worry about six feet underground.

But that didn't matter to him as long as Silena was safe, and he knew she would be. She was a Priestess of the Temple of Mother Earth. Even the Royal Family wouldn't dare harm her. She'd be returned to her family, scared but unharmed. She would be okay, and that was enough.

"Don't worry," he said, cradling her face in his palm. "Everything's going to be okay."

In front of them, the crowd parted like a sea, and a guard stepped forward. It was Jackson, bathed in the light of the chandelier, his wavy hair like a halo around his head, and his green eyes so bright they were almost glowing.

Charles thought he looked like some sort of Prince of the sea.

The west wing was going to hell.

But Percy ignored the bat-like screeching and demon-like sneers of the reporters. He stared straight ahead without really seeing anything, focused only on putting one foot in front of the other and getting away from the wing as the star-crossed lovers followed behind him.

"We're going the wrong way," Beckendorf said, after moments of following him silently, his hand in the girl's. "The barracks are the other way, Jackson."

Percy didn't respond, just passed a hand over his face as he made up his mind. He led them to a barely-used spiral staircase made of stone, tucked between the east and west wings. After another cautious look over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed, he grabbed Beckendorf by the shoulder, and looked between the two of them.

"You need to escape," He said.

Charles stopped in his tracks.

Then, he ran a hand through his black, curly hair and threw his head back a little, letting out a grim, defeated laugh. “Of course, you’re trying to save us! You're so predictable, Jackson."

He let out another laugh, and another, and another, until Jackson was clenching and unclenching his fists, staring at his hands as if the answers to all their problems were written in his palms. He lifted his eyes to Beckendorf’s. "They’re going to punish you. I don't know how, but they will."

Charles knew that, but he did stop laughing. He looked at the other guard, his drooping shoulders, the way he slightly leaned his body against the stone guardrail. He looked so uncharacteristically serious. This wasn't the Jackson he knew, who saved his home province of Phthia and swaggered around the Palace like he were the Prince and not his guard.

This was Percy, his friend and fellow guard, who accompanied him on patrols he wasn't assigned to and trained with him until the late, late hours of the night. He'd always seemed untouchable to Charles, because of his strength, his attitude, and his connection to the Prince. But now, he was almost hunched over in desperation, his voice pleading as he said to them, "You have to escape."

Charles always knew he was a good man.

"Thank you for trying to help,” Silena said as she placed a hand on Percy's arm and gave him a heartbreakingly sad smile. "But with the security for this huge party…”

"...We're not leaving the Palace," Charles finished for her.

He took Silena by the elbow and led her out of the dark hallway. They’d turn themselves over to Chiron, the Chief of the King's Guard, and Charles would ask him to make sure Silena got home safe. Whatever punishment they had prepared, he would face alone.

From behind him, in the shadow of the staircase, he heard Percy quietly say, "No, at least not today."

Jason never reached the west wing, because at the end of the hallway was a guard who took one look at him, figured out where he was trying to go, and frantically shook his head.

"We're still removing the media from the west wing, Your Highness," said the guard with the nameplate that said Mason.

"Has Chiron been informed? Where is he?" Jason asked, grateful the guard didn't seem too interested in the fact that he was coming from the Elites' rooms.

"Yes, Sir, he knows. He's in the barracks with Sir Hermes right now."

Jason nodded and continued on his way, his serious expression never wavering. Mason wordlessly fell into step beside the Prince, and together they walked - or marched, rather - to the guard barracks. They were studiously ignoring the way the Palace seemed to be descending into chaos around them as the normally-organized guards scrambled back and forth, and the usual quiet of the hallways was broken by shouting and screeching. Jason kept quiet, lost in his thoughts until they reached the barracks.

To everyone else in the Palace, the guard barracks was just a room they went to when they needed the guards, but to Chiron, it was home.

A less recent addition to the Palace, the interior of the barracks was made of stone, instead of the marbled tile of the hallways or the wooden flooring of the bedrooms. Two wide arches at the back led to the sleeping quarters, and in the middle was a finely-crafted yet simple executive table of golden oak. Behind that desk, Chiron could usually be found seated on an equally simple high-backed chair.

However, tonight, he was on his feet, locked in a scowling match with the country's most famous TV show host, Hermes of the Olympus Royal Report. Hermes was dressed extravagantly, as usual, and his plum coat-tails and crimson silk cravat stood out from the drab stone-grays of the room.

Upon the Prince's entrance, they both dropped into respectful bows.

"How's our damage control, Chiron?" Jason asked, his face marred by a frown as he strode into the guard barracks.

"We've confiscated the cameras, film, and even the microphones." Chiron walked back to his desk, gesturing for the Prince to take a seat on one of the plush armchairs. Jason remained standing. "But some of them were live when it happened. The news is out, no doubt about it."

"We need to release a statement right now." Hermes had his mouth set in an angry line, an expression he wouldn't be caught dead wearing on camera. "Tell the world we're aware, we're in control, we're dealing punishments."

Punishments. Chiron felt fear and worry gnawing at his insides at the word. Beckendorf was one of his, a senior guard and officer who'd protected the lives of the very people who were now about to take away his. He didn't deserve this, and Chiron was sure that Silena didn’t either. They were young and foolish, and according to the news reports, 'very much in love,’  but they they had done nothing to deserve this.

"An offense like this is considered an affront against the future King," Hermes continued. "Any slight against the King is punished by execution. And, of course, His Majesty would want it to be public. What a mess."

Hermes was massaging his temples as if they were talking about a mere annoyance and not the lives of two people they knew, completely oblivious to the horrified shock on Chiron's face. Certainly, if the King or the Queen had their way, the Palace would already be making arrangements for a hanging or a beheading. But the Prince was neither his father nor his mother.

And when Chiron looked at him, he saw hope.

"A public execution?" Jason growled. "We are doing no such thing."

Hermes turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Ms. Beauregard is a Priestess. Her dismissal from the Selection shall be her punishment," Jason said. "Have her escorted back to the Temple of Mother Earth first thing tomorrow, Chiron."

"Understood, Your Royal Highness. We will begin preparations immediately.” Chiron nodded at Mason, who nodded back before taking off from the room.

"As for Beckendorf," Jason continued, "Out of consideration for his years of faithful service to the Palace and the country, and given his excellent track record, his punishment will be dismissal from his position as Officer of the King's Guard for the duration of the Selection."

"Understood, Your Highness." Chiron masked the relief in his voice well, but Jason saw the gratitude in his face.

"It feels like too light a punishment." Hermes muttered his disapproval, but his eyes were lowered as he took notes on the unlined notepad he always carried with him. After all, his words were supposed to be a comment, never a challenge.

Still, Jason balled his hands into fists behind his back as he struggled to ignore the storm brewing under his skin. He needed to remain calm, to look calm. If he could convince himself that he was in control of the situation, then maybe he could convince Hermes, too. And if he could convince Hermes, then surely he could convince - 

"His Majesty is not going to like this at all." Hermes shook his head, his eyes still on the notepad. "And to think of the ratings a public execution would've brought in!"

Jason didn't hear any of the other things he said, because by then he only had one thing on his mind.  

"I'll be the one to speak to my father."

Chapter Text

The door closed behind Jason, and it was like the sound snapped Nico out of a trance.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, instantly wide awake as he remembered what happened last night - how Jason had found him, held him, and confessed to him. He placed a hand over his chest, wondering how he had been able to sleep with how fast his heart was beating.

He couldn't calm down now, that was for sure. He paced around the room, willing his heart to stop racing, and then he made the mistake of looking into the mirror on his vanity. There, on the side of his face, was a huge, purpling bruise, and below, across his neck, were angry red finger-shaped marks.

He placed his hands against the vanity to steady himself. How had he forgotten so quickly? How was it that a few hours with Jason had already erased the anger, the anxiety, the fear from that incident? The answer was simple - because he liked Jason, and Jason liked him, too.

He couldn't stop the smile that stretched his lips, although he knew he must have looked positively insane leaning against his vanity in the darkness of his room, grinning like an idiot. He couldn't help it; Jason liked him back.

Jason liked him back.

Heat rushed to his cheeks before he remembered the way the Prince had practically taken off running.

Nico cleared his throat and walked closer to the door. He pulled it open, peering up at the guard outside. The only guards Nico knew personally were Percy and Beckendorf, but Jason trusted this one, and he seemed nice enough.

"Could you tell me where Jas - His Highness went?" He asked.

The guard's slanted eyes narrowed a little in surprise. He gave Nico a once-over, and Nico opened the door wider so that the guard could look at him. He placed his arms at his sides, trying his best to look trustworthy.

"It's an emergency," the guard finally said.

"What happened?"

The guard grimaced. "You'll find out tomorrow."

Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

Nico tossed and turned in bed all night, wondering what was so urgent that Jason had to leave so quickly, and so important that the guard outside his door couldn't say anything about it. More than once, he'd entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, Jason was finally making the announcement.

 It was laughable how easily it came to Nico. He could see it now in his mind, the carpeted aisle leading to the altar, the guests waiting by the pews with Hazel at the very front, and Jason standing there with a hand outstretched to reach for Nico.

Jason, at the end of it all.

Three knocks sounded at his door, and in his excitement Nico flung the door all the way open. What greeted him was a somber-looking maid with an equally somber-looking guard. The maid pushed a set of clothes into his arms, and he automatically reached forward to take them.

"Be strong," she whispered, before bowing her head and taking off. Nico looked down at the clothes in his arms - simple, understated slacks and a jet-black dress shirt. Instantly, the light, airy happiness in his chest was replaced with a creeping dread.

They were mourning clothes.

The guard led him to the foyer, and Nico dragged his feet every step of the way, absolutely terrified of what awaited him. He remembered how Jason had left so hurriedly last night, how the guard had grimaced when Nico asked him where the Prince went. He pressed his hands against his eyes, willing the tears not to fall.

"Here's the last," The guard said loudly, stopping in his tracks. Nico lifted his eyes from the ground.

All of the other Elite were in the foyer, wearing similar clothes and expressions, and Nico felt like the ground was caving beneath his feet. He wrapped his arms around himself and searched the rows of guards for Percy, for a familiar face to steady him as his knees grew weaker and weaker.

He wasn't there.

The guards ushered the Elite into a single line, and they walked down the spiraling staircase as light flooded the foyer. The Palace's massive front doors were being pulled open, and so were its towering, intimidating gates of iron and steel. The Elite walked out the Palace, past the Palace grounds, and onto the streets, where the deafening cheer of a huge crowd greeted them.

On the streets, a large platform had been set up with cameras positioned around it from every angle. In front of it was a small section of stadium seats, and all around, citizens of the Kingdom crowded together. Olympians of all ages and Numbers pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in anticipation of what was to happen.

As Nico climbed into his seat, the crowd erupted, and he turned towards the platform as the King, the Queen, and Jason walked onto the stage.

Jason.

Nico fell into his seat, almost sobbing in relief. Jason was fine. He was okay, and unharmed, and here.

He was okay.

Nico drank in the sight of him.

He was unsmiling, sitting so very, very still, and there was an undeniable tension in the set of his shoulders. When his parents sat down on the thrones constructed on stage, he stiffly followed suit.

Nico wiped his eyes as Leo took the seat beside him, body just as rigid as Jason's. He turned to Nico with a smile that was so twisted and angry it was almost a sneer. "Crying already? We haven't even started."

"What? What do you mean?"

The Four didn't answer, choosing to simply stare at the stage with a hard look in his eyes. Nico craned his neck to get a better look at the platform, at the Prince, his Prince. If Jason looked his way and gave him a smile, then he would be unafraid and know everything was okay.

Jason didn't move.

Moments later, a handful of guards marched up the stage, dragging behind them two dirty, ragged figures. Nico felt like beneath the blood and mud, he knew who they were. But their heads were bowed, their bodies broken, and even as the crowd jeered, Nico kept his eyes fixed on one of the guards who'd come up onstage.

It was Percy.

He looked so unlike himself that Nico wondered if it was actually him. Nico wished it weren't, because the guard wore a look of intense hatred, his usual smile nowhere to be found. He'd never seen Percy like this before. It frightened him, and he knew that the anger on Percy's face and the stony expression on Jason's meant he had to prepare for the worst.

Hermes appeared next, wearing clothes similar to the Elites, the most serious outfit Nico had ever seen him in. He brought a mic to his mouth, effectively shushing the crowd.

"Olympian ladies and gentlemen, 'tis I, Hermes your messenger," His voice was solemn. "Today we come together not to cheer or celebrate, but to witness, and to judge. "

Nico's heart leapt into his throat.

"Silena Beauregard, a Daughter of Olympus, one of the Elite, and a respected Three was found in an intimate moment last night with Charles Beckendorf, a trusted member of the King's Guard, and a Two." He paused, moving closer to the two figures sharing the stage with him. "They have committed treason against the Royal Family!"

The crowd's booing grew louder and louder, their angry shouts an almost physical presence weighing down on Nico's chest.

"This is a crime punishable by death!" Hermes continued. "But, in his mercy, Prince Jason is going to spare these two traitors their lives. Long live Prince Jason!”

The crowd started to chant after the host, and Nico couldn't believe that these were the same people that cheered for Silena in the Reports, that ate up everything she said in her magazine interviews, that voted for her in the popularity polls. He couldn't believe how easily, how viciously they had turned on her.

"Silena Beauregard and Charles Beckendorf, you are both hereby stripped of your castes. You are the lowest of the low. You are Elevens!" Hermes forced the two into kneeling positions, and the crowd went wild.

Nico's thoughts were a mess. He thought about how there were probably Elevens in that crowd. Weren't they bothered they were being referred to that way? He wondered about the crime that the two committed. Did something like that warrant a spectacle like this? He thought of Jason, who treated his wounds and got angry on his behalf. Would someone like that let this happen?

Jason sat there, still and stone-faced as a statue, and Nico knew his answer.

Chapter Text

Percy watched as two masked men approached the stage, each holding a bucket of water. They pulled long rods out of the buckets and swiped them at the air a few times. The crowd applauded at the little warm-up, and Percy couldn't help but bristle.

In a few seconds, those rods would strike Beckendorf and Beauregard's backs and shoulders. The crowd would stir itself into a frenzy, and the media would report the caning as if it were some sort of national festival.

One of the masked men raised his arm, and before Percy could blink, the cane fell on Beauregard's back.

"One!" He cried.

Percy flinched violently. He tore his eyes away from the gruesome scene, choosing to look anywhere but there. His gaze landed on the Selected, one of them hunched over, another sobbing into her hands, most of them frozen in shock or fear. And in the middle of the row was Nico.

Nico, the Selected from his past, a memory of flesh and bone, the ever-present reminder of his carefree Phthian days.

Today, with Nico pale as death and his eyes wide in horror, Percy was reminded of other memories. Memories made in Nico's hometown of Opus, of rebels descending the mountains right in front of them, looking worn but invincible. Percy saved him that time.

But who was he saving Nico from, this time around? ‘ From the horrors of the Palace, ’ he thought, and his eyes found the cluster of thrones in the middle of the stage, where his charge and friend, Prince Jason, also sat. ‘ From him, ’ Percy thought, looking at the Prince, who had the power to stop all of this, but wouldn't.

"Two!"

Percy tensed as he continued staring at Jason. What good was being a Prince if he couldn't even help one of his own? What good was sitting on a throne if he couldn't do anything? What good was having a crown on one's head?

"Three!"

Prince or not, Percy would’ve done everything he could do to save a friend. He'd done it before, when he was merely a fisherman with only a fishing rod to his name. He was a guard now, trained and armed.

His friends always said he had a hero complex, but he’d never understood what they meant.

"Four!"

He charged one of the masked men.

"Five - "

Maybe they meant this.

In hindsight, Jason should have expected this.

His nails were scraping the armrests of his wooden throne as he watched Percy leap onto the front of the stage. Why in Olympus had he let his oh-so-brave, oh-so-righteous personal guard be present at the caning? The answer was simple, and it - he, rather - was sitting in the front row of the audience, looking utterly terrified.

The expression made Jason's heart clench painfully in his chest. He knew Nico would be frightened so he let Percy come along, because he hoped the guard's familiar presence would make Nico understand that this was something that happened in the Palace. That was all he wanted - for Nico to at least understand that the Palace wasn't all bright lights and grand balls.

He had done everything in his power to convince the King and Queen that caning was enough, that an execution would blow the whole thing way out of proportion. He hadn't slept a wink, wary that Hermes or the Queen would try to pull some strings and push through with the execution. He couldn't tell Nico what was about to happen, either.

The only thing he could do was believe Nico trusted him and Percy enough.

What he couldn't believe, however, was that he had been so distracted by thinking about Nico that he failed to consider how Percy would react.

"Let them go!" Percy lunged for the rod held by one of the masked men. "Stop! Stop !"

Jason went cold all over.

"What is this?" The King grumbled to his left, his voice low, but not quite angry yet.

Jason's lower back throbbed, a phantom pain from an incident that happened months ago, when his father shoved him to the floor after he intervened between the King and Nico. He learned that his father only got angrier whenever he got involved without the latter’s permission, so he shut his mouth and continued to pretend he saw nothing.

"Don’t worry about it, dear. It's probably nothing." The Queen waved dismissively, but Jason knew her well enough to read forced nonchalance in her voice. She called out softly to a nearby guard with a finger pointed at Percy. "Hurry up and take him away."

"To the barracks," Jason added quickly, voice even softer. "Take him to the barracks."

The guards grabbed Percy's arms and shoulders, but he continued thrashing about, shouting, "Let me go! You can't do this!"

He slipped from their grasp and disarmed one of the executioners, slapping the rod out of his hand and towards the audience. For the first time, Jason realized how quiet the audience had gotten. Normally, they would jeer at any interruption of such an event, loud and uproarious, but not today. Jason understood why - Percy wasn't just a guard, he was the hero of Phthia, the man every lower Number aspired to be. He was one of them.

The cameras, on the other hand, ate up every second of the scene, from the shocked silence of the crowd to the blank expressions on the Tartarians' faces. On the stage, Silena kept her gaze on the floor, her eyes glazed over, the wounds on her back bleeding red, red blood, but Beckendorf's eyes were alight as he looked at Percy with something like pride. Sympathy for both guards tugged at Jason’s heart. What Percy was doing was admirable, heroic even, but he wished he could tell Beckendorf that Percy’s “heroism” was only endangering their lives.

After what seemed like forever, the guards finally subdued Percy, dragging him off the stage and out of sight. The caning continued as if nothing had happened, and soon it was over. Jason's parents promptly rose from their thrones, and so did he. He was exhausted beyond belief, and he struggled to remember where he was before all of this, if only to chase the fatigue away and remind himself that the caning was now behind them.

Only a few hours ago, he was on the bed in Nico's room, and Nico was smiling as he looked at Jason, his gaze soft and gentle and so very different from the haunted look in his eyes that Jason saw as he passed by the Elites' row of seats.

This time, the only thing Jason could hope for was that Nico would still look at him the same way.

Chapter Text

As per tradition for hundreds of years, regardless of the event, the most important were always the last to arrive and the first to leave.

Still, Persephone couldn’t help but bristle as the Olympians rose to their feet to return to the Palace while her family stayed seated. To distract herself, she subtly turned her body to the row in the back and turned her eyes to her daughter. Bianca was the perfect picture of poise, her face blank even as the Elites around her shifted in their seats. It made Persephone proud.

She wished she and Hades didn’t have to leave so soon, but they had no choice. Their official reason for visiting the country was to attend the ball thrown in Bianca’s honor, and that had ended last night. Truthfully, they were supposed to have left hours ago, but their departure was moved to the afternoon as the caning was expected to occupy the whole morning.

She dragged her eyes to the two wretched figures onstage. She pitied them - she wasn’t heartless like Hera - but their punishment was not unwarranted. She heard all about their deceit from the reporters running around last night, and she knew the perilous position it put the Royal Family in. But that wasn’t all she learned from the gossipy bunch.

She also heard from one very over-the-top, very loud reporter about the attack on this very Palace that happened a few weeks back.

“You’re thinking about it again,” Hades said, standing.

Persephone startled. She looked around and realized the Olympian royals were nowhere to be seen. It was their time to go then. She stood as well, ready to get out of the eye of the crowd and cross the short distance from the Palace gate to the gardens beyond.

“They never found who ordered the attack,” She said, her voice a whisper and her mouth barely moving.

“Yes, they did,” Hades answered, slowing his pace to match his wife’s stride.

“No, they told the media they did.” Persephone was careful to keep the agitation off her face, even as they entered the Palace foyer. “That does not mean anything. We both know that.”

It was the exact same conversation they’d been having last night, since the minute Persephone learned of the attack and of the danger her daughter could be in. Hades kept on insisting it was nothing, that they both knew there was a civil conflict brewing on the horizon, and that the instability it would cause helped their own.

“I didn’t know they attacked the Palace ! You didn’t tell me that!” She grabbed at his arm. “I thought they only attacked the provinces or the less-fortified cities, not the Palace !”

She stopped in her tracks. In the distance, she could see the Olympian Royal Family standing in the center of the foyer, lying in wait. Persephone held on to her husband tighter. She knew the Olympians were waiting to see her and Hades off.

“I do not mean to downplay your concern.” Hades placed his hand over hers. “But my brother, idiotic though he may appear, is still a war general. And Bianca knows how to protect herself.”

Persephone opened her mouth, another retort ready on her lips, but they were almost within hearing distance of the Olympians now. Hades must’ve sensed her building distress, because he dipped his head to look at her.

“I’ll talk to my brother about her security, yes? I’ll ask him if we can leave guards for her.” Hades’ voice was low and quiet. “Now, leave this matter be.”

Persephone wasn’t satisfied, but she gave a stiff, slight nod anyway. Then, she pasted a polite smile on her face and tilted her chin up, returning to her role as the perfect wife.

Bianca fell in line with the other Elites for the short walk back to the Palace, but where their steps were slow and dragging, hers were sure and swift. Her parents were leaving today, and she wanted to be there when they did.

Once they reached the foyer, the guards started herding the Elites back to their rooms. Bianca paid them no heed, breaking away from the line. They knew better than to try and stop her, too. She spotted her parents talking to the Olympians, who were standing in the middle of the foyer in a perfect line of perfect smiles, looking more imposing and intimidating than all of the statues in the foyer.  

Bianca steeled herself. She didn’t want to waste the last hours her parents had in Olympus in the presence of Zeus or his wife or his son. That left her only one option - she would have to steal her parents away.  

She walked up to them.

Persephone turned around at the sound of her footsteps, a smile lighting up her entire face. She stepped back to place an arm around her daughter’s waist before turning back to the Olympians. It seemed she had the same idea as her daughter, because she wasted no time in excusing them.

“Your Majesties, I’m afraid I have to rest now,” She said. “I have a long flight ahead of me, and I tend to get indisposed for such.”

“Must you?” Zeus’ lips twitched into a frown. He looked at Bianca, “We were just about to tour the showroom. The day of your departure should be filled with good memories, not this dreary punishment!”

Bianca wanted to raise an eyebrow, but couldn’t with her parents present. She couldn’t believe the King was explaining how they needed to tour the showroom right after the caning to her . She remembered the screaming match the King and the Queen had the day she arrived and was introduced to the Elite, and how it seemed the King forgot all about it the very morning after. Was he really this fickle? Would Bianca have to start getting used to his mood swings, too?

Out of the corner of her eye, Bianca saw her father wave over a guard. The guard looked confused and a little frightened to be the center of attention of two Royal Families, but he sped over anyway.

“Please escort my family back to our rooms,” Hades said to the guard. To the other King, he said, “I’ll be the one to accompany you, Brother. There are other matters we need to discuss privately anyway.

This time, Bianca did raise an eyebrow. Was her father really ordering another Kingdom’s guard in front of that Kingdom’s King ? She glanced at the Olympians, and as she expected, found Zeus looking a bit incensed. Hera’s face was blank as a canvas, a mask concealing whatever emotion she was feeling. And Jason -

The Prince looked grim. There was a heavy frown on his lips, and his shoulders were so tense Bianca thought he would break at the slightest touch. She followed his wild blue eyes, turning her head to look at the Palace gates. She saw nothing but the remaining Elites still making their way towards the Palace.

“We’ll be going then, Your Majesties.” Persephone looped an arm around hers and began leading her away.

Over her shoulder, Bianca gave Jason one last, long look. She’d never felt anything for him, but at that moment she wanted to ask him, What’s wrong?

Chapter Text

Jason could hear the ticking of a clock in his head, the slow and rhythmic tick-tock reverberating like the beating of a drum inside his skull. But he ignored it, pretending it wasn’t counting down the seconds that remained until the Tartarians left the country and took his only chance at redemption with them. He was good at that - acting like everything was okay.

He kept his eyes straight ahead, staring at nothing. He forced himself to listen to what his parents were saying to the Tartarians, but he kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d say what was really on his mind. He didn’t want to talk about the latest piece in his father’s collection of aircrafts. He wanted to ask Hades why he hurt Nico, if Hades could spare a few minutes so Jason could explain for the Eight.

This was the only way Jason thought he could make it up to Nico. For the monstrosity the latter had been forced to witness, for the haunted look in his eyes as Jason passed by his row of seats, for the way he stumbled into the Palace like he couldn’t even stand as Jason watched helplessly from the foyer.

“We’ll be going then, Your Majesties,” The Tartarian Queen said, dragging Bianca with her and leaving Jason with his parents and uncle.

Immediately, Zeus led them to his showroom, unable to resist one last chance to show off.

It wasn’t a showroom, actually, but a spacious hangar that had been repurposed to house Zeus’ massive collection of aircrafts. Unlike the other hangars in the country, it was circular in shape, and far larger and taller than even the nobles’ houses. Although Jason hadn’t had the chance to visit the place frequently, he still didn’t feel the need to gawk over the King’s shiny toys.

“This way,” Zeus gestured with a wave of his hand, and the overhead lights turned on one by one as they walked to the center, where his prized possession was surrounded by no less than twelve floor-mounted spotlights.

Jason wondered how long this little tour was going to take. Would he still have the chance to pull Hades aside and talk to him after? Last night, he thought he’d have time in the morning to talk to Hades away from his wife and daughter, but the caning had ruined his plans in more ways than one.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Zeus said, his voice taking a reverent tone Jason rarely heard. The King stroked the hull of the aircraft, a white plane with OLYMPUS written in gold on both sides.

“It is a fine aircraft, indeed. Worthy of your title as King of the Skies.” The Tartarian King’s eyes were wary as he looked at the plane. “But, Brother, there is a matter I need to discuss with you regarding my daughter’s safety.”

“Oh?” Zeus continued beaming up at his plane.

“In private,” Hades said, his tone flat.

“Oh,” Zeus said. He looked meaningfully at his son and wife.

“We shall excuse ourselves, then,” Hera replied without missing a beat. She smiled at Hades, all her teeth showing. “We hope you had a pleasant time in Olympus, and we look forward to the next time you’ll be gracing us with your presence. Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

Jason’s stomach dropped to the floor.

The corridor was lined with the same black-and-white checkered tiles Bianca had been walking on since she arrived in Olympus. The walls hung with the same gold-framed paintings too, but the nervous glances her mother kept shooting her were new.

They kept up the small talk until they reached the antechamber before their quarters, chatting about the weather in Olympus and what flowers were in bloom in Tartarus. The guard escorting them pulled open the door, told them another guard would be outside if they needed him, and shut it after they entered.

“What was that about, Mother?” Bianca sat down on the grand leather couch in the center of the room.

“Did you know there was an attack on this Palace, in this very Palace, a few weeks back?” Persephone paced the room, wringing her hands.

“We knew about that,” Bianca nodded. “It helps our cause.”

“You sound just like your father.” Persephone looked chagrined. “Maybe we should rethink this plan.”

Oh, hell no, Bianca stood up.  

“We’ve already gotten what we came here for,” Persephone argued. “Your sister, remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” Bianca walked over to her mother and gently steered her towards the bedchamber. “Her name is Makaria, right? It’s a beautiful name. It means ‘blessed death,’ did you know?”

Persephone gave a quick nod, although it was clear she wasn’t listening. “And Hera has already promised you’d win the Selection. Why can’t you just wait for the announcement of the engagement in Tartarus?”

“Because I have to actually participate in the Selection, Mother.” Bianca guided her mother onto the king-size bed of dark oak. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ll be leaving in less than an hour.”

As expected, Persephone refused to even lay still. But Bianca kept on talking to her and over her, her voice low and soothing like a lullaby, until finally her eyes slipped shut. Bianca sat on the edge of the bed, and placed a hand on her mother’s forehead, brushing her hair back.

“A new sister, huh,” She muttered.

Bianca wondered what she would be like, if she had Hades’ dark hair and dark eyes like Bianca, or if she took after her mother. Would they get along? And where did her mother get her name? Makaria was such a curious name. What was growing up like for her?

Bianca sighed. She would have to wait until the end of the Selection to find out.

Persephone woke up to the angry rapping of knuckles on the door to their bedchamber, instead of the antechamber.

“Rude,” Bianca said, getting up from the couch. She was still grumbling under her breath as she opened the door, but she stopped as the Olympian prince stepped in.

“Your Highness,” He tipped his head to Bianca, before turning his electric blue eyes on Persephone. “Your Majesty.”

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Persephone slid out from under the blankets, the confusion on her face mirrored in Bianca’s.

“I apologize for my rudeness.” He was unsteady on his feet, like he had run all the way here. “A word with Your Majesty, if you please.”

Bianca knew a courtly dismissal when she heard one. She stiffened, cutting her eyes at the Prince. “Your apology is accepted.”

Persephone turned to her and motioned to the door, silently asking her to leave. Hesitantly, Bianca obeyed.

“Have a seat.” Persephone led the Prince to the loveseat at the foot of the bed, glad she fell asleep in the clothes she was wearing to the caning. She looked decent, at least.

“There is something I need to talk to His Majesty Hades about, but he and my father are occupied.” He said, refusing to meet her eyes. “I apologize for bringing the matter to Your Majesty.”

“That’s no problem, dear.” Persephone lightly touched his arm. He looked up, and she smiled gently at him.

The Prince took a minute to gather himself, but when he spoke, his voice was finally how Persephone had always heard it - smooth and sure and strong. “His Majesty hurt one of the Selected last night.”

“Oh my.”

“The Selected… my friend... introduced himself to His Majesty.” He swallowed. “And I believe His Majesty believed it was some sort of joke from my father, or that my friend was trying to pass himself off as His Majesty Hades’ son.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My friend’s name is Nico di Angelo.” The Prince looked like he was chewing on glass. “He spoke to His Majesty in Tartarian, and mentioned he learned it from his mother who passed away twelve years ago. He mentioned that his mother’s name was Maria di Angelo.”

Persephone stilled at the mention of her name.

"What does he look like?" Persephone smiled sweetly. It's just a coincidence, she told herself.

"You gave him a red flower," The Prince tried to smile back, but he looked like he was grimacing instead. “Does Your Majesty remember?”

She did. She remembered him. She remembered his dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. She remembered thinking his coloring ‘was not too different from Hades' own.’

“My friend wanted His Majesty to know that he meant no disrespect, and that he was not lying, either.”

“I - “ Persephone realized her folded hands were shaking on top of her knees. “I see?”

“My friend has a locket of his mother. It is engraved with her name and the date of her death,” Jason reached into his breast pocket and brought out an old, rusted locket, fiddling with it for a second. "May I show it to you?"

Persephone couldn't avert her eyes even if she tried. She felt the color draining from her cheeks. She stared in horror as the locket opened to reveal a picture of the one woman Persephone never wanted to see again - Hades'  Maria di Angelo.

It seemed the famed Olympus really did have everything - including the real heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Tartarus.

Chapter Text

Even as she stared down at the locket in Jason’s hand, Persephone couldn’t really see the woman with dark hair and dark eyes who had haunted her every dream.

Instead, she saw her worst nightmares coming to life in her mind. Through the glass of the locket and the forming tears in her eyes, she saw Hades taking off his obsidian crown and placing it on the head of an unknown figure. She saw Hades’ hand giving his scepter of Stygian iron to a complete stranger. And through it all, she saw him smiling, almost grinning.

He’d always wanted a son.

“Mother!” Bianca knocked on the door with more force than necessary. “It’s almost time.”

Finally. Persephone's shoulders practically sagged in relief. She didn’t know how much more she could take of Jason’s babble, what other secrets he would reveal the longer he kept on talking about this ‘Nico,’ how honest he was, how good, how perfect.

“I apologize, Your Highness, but I–“ She stood up, ignoring how her whole body seemed to be shaking, from her voice to her hands down to her knees.

“Oh, I understand.” He rose from the loveseat as well, closing his fist around that cursed locket. “I knew it was almost time for your flight, but I didn’t mean to keep you.”

Persephone walked him to the door, eager to be rid of his company. She noted the way he squared his shoulders, how the shadows had left his blue eyes. He looked like a different person compared to the grim prince who had entered the room half an hour ago. But of course he did. He had already thrown all his burdens onto Persephone’s back.

“I understand this was an… unusual... conversation.” He paused, lingering by the door. “And my request for an apology even moreso.”

“Nonsense.” Persephone flicked her hand in a dismissive wave and hoped the gesture looked convincing. “You can rest assured I will let my husband know about this.”

The door slammed open. The Prince looked startled for a second, but he relaxed as Bianca appeared in the doorway.

“Thank you again for making time to see me, Your Majesty. I cannot thank you enough.” He bowed to Persephone, then tipped his head to Bianca. “Your Highness.”

“What did he want?” Bianca asked as soon as the Prince had left the room, her eyes narrowed.

Persephone returned to the bedchamber and sank into the bed. She could hear Bianca’s footsteps following her into the room. She didn’t know what to say to Bianca, the girl she had learned to accept and love like her own flesh and blood, the daughter she had raised to be the next queen.

Compared to her, that Nico was nothing. What was his Number again? Eight. He was an Eight, a nothing, irrelevant even in his own country. Persephone’s people wouldn’t ever bow to someone like him.

Persephone convinced herself that what had happened was a series of good things. It was a good thing she had sent her daughter away the moment Jason came. It was a good thing that Hades needed to talk to Zeus, so Jason had no choice but to come to her. It was a good thing they were returning to Tartarus that same day, so Persephone could just forget what had happened and leave everything behind.

"Mother," Bianca raised her voice, concern etched on her face. "I said, what happened? "

Persephone wiped away the tears from her eyes and decided Hades didn't need to know he had another bastard running around. He didn't need to know, not when the bastard was a son, and certainly not when he threatened both Persephone and Bianca's positions in the Royal Family.

"It was nothing, dear. Just apologies for the caning incident." Persephone's voice was scratchy. "He’s a good son-in-law."

Bianca looked at her curiously.

“But make sure you don’t tell anyone about his little visit, yes?” Persephone managed a wobbly smile. “We don’t want anyone getting ideas about our arrangement.”

Hades didn’t need to know.

“Of course, Mother.” Bianca answered easily.

Hades wouldn’t know.

Hades stared up at the plane that would take him and his wife back to their home. It was large but sleek and black as midnight, with their emblem printed on both sides - a helm on top of a scythe. It was better than everything Zeus had in that tiny little hangar.

The plane was already on the runway, the boarding ramp set up beside it. From the Palace to the runway, their path was crowded with reporters and well-wishers. Hades wanted to discuss the conversation he’d had with his brother, but couldn’t with all the eyes and ears present.

Finally, they reached the boarding ramp. Persephone had to remind him to stop and smile at the top, before they ducked inside the plane.

“I talked to my brother,” He said as they sat on the plush lounge chairs of the cabin.

Persephone looked distracted, busying herself herself with the throw pillows.

“He agreed to let us send our own guards for security and contact her from time to time,” He continued.

Again, Persephone didn’t answer. She simply nodded, giving him a wan smile.

Hades didn’t press the matter. He settled into the chair and closed his eyes, imagining what he was returning to - his beautiful country, his throne of Stygian iron, his unknown daughter. He could now forget the travesty the Olympian Palace had become, the offensive joke his brother had pulled. He could forget.

He would forget.

Chapter Text

Hazel found out about the caning while she was gardening.

The morning sun was in her eyes, and she was squinting as she stared at what passed for a lawn in their part of Olympus - a thin stretch of grass running from the front of her house to her neighbor's, dotted with weeds and the flowering shrubs she'd been trying to grow.

Her neighbors - the mother-daughter pair of Mintha and Makaria - hadn't been home for days, and looking at their closed front door made Hazel feel uneasy. It made her remember the tall, strange men in black suits who had knocked at her door a few days ago. They had mistaken her house for Makaria’s, and Hazel’s breathing had sped up as she she stared at the unfamiliar insignia on their breastpockets - a helm on top of a scythe.

Those men were the reason she was gardening her neighbors' lawn now. Despite the sickening feeling in her gut, she wanted to believe her neighbors would return. And when they did, she wanted them to be greeted by a lawn that wasn't in the middle of dying.

She crouched down to pull on some stubborn weeds and frowned when another neighbor came running over.

"Hazel!" The woman screamed. "The mayor’s calling you! It’s about the Selection!"

Hazel didn't need much convincing.

Her stomach did somersaults as she got up and ran, her mind going over what she'd last heard about the Selection. There was going to be a ball in the Tartarian princess' honor. Had something else happened?

“It’s bad,” Her neighbor shook her head without saying anything else.

Hazel was glad their province was small and that their town was even smaller. They reached the mayor’s house in minutes and stumbled inside in a mess of sweaty limbs. The mayor and his wife were seated on a worn leather couch, a blocky TV with a bent antenna in front of them.

The screen showed two figures slumped onstage, and behind them two masked men were wielding whips. One of the men sliced the whip through the air before bringing it down onto one of the figures kneeling before him. A violent flinch tore through Hazel’s entire body. 

“It’s a whipping,” Her neighbor breathed.

“It’s called a caning, ” The mayor corrected, his face pale.

The screen panned out before zooming in on a man who was standing near the stage. He had curly dark hair and a mic in one hand. It’s Hermes, Hazel realized, But it’s not the Olympus Royal Report? She dragged her eyes away from the host’s face to the words DAILY OLYMPUS scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

Hazel turned to the mayor and his wife, a question in her eyes.

“They found one of the Selected with a guard last night,” He explained.

“Who?” Hazel asked, her heart dropping to her stomach. She thought of her brother. Was he one of those onstage, almost unrecognizable with the blood in their hair and the dirt on their skin? Was he? She wrapped her arms around herself and sobbed, "Who?”

“It’s alright dear, your brother’s okay,” The mayor’s wife answered, pulling Hazel into her arms and onto the couch. “They’re only punishing the guard and the Selected. It’s Silena Beauregard, the Six. The girl from the Temple.”

“And the guard?” Hazel blinked away her tears.

“Charles something? I’m sorry. I don’t quite remember.”

“You should really buy a TV,” Her neighbor joked, sitting beside them and rubbing Hazel’s arms soothingly.

“I’ll think about it,” Hazel answered, surprised she actually meant it.

“Still, can you imagine having an affair with a guard when the Prince is right there? Can you imagine ?”

Yes, She thought, remembering how Nico had only applied for the Selection because of Percy. “No,” She said.

Beside them, the mayor gasped. Hazel turned back to the screen in time to see another guard slap the whip out of one of the masked men’s hands. The other guards grabbed him. It seemed he was a better fighter than all of them, but he was still outnumbered twelve to one. Before Hazel could figure out what the the lone guard was doing, the screen returned to Hermes.

“After the caning, our dear visitors from the Kingdom of Tartarus will be returning home.” It was obvious he was disgruntled, but his voice remained calm.

“What was that?” The mayor asked.

“Did you see that?” Her neighbor shook her arm.

Hermes then launched into a discussion of the history of the Selection, completely disregarding the rebellious guard. Hazel could still see the side of the stage behind the host, and she frowned as the guard was dragged away after a bit of struggle. She turned away from the screen as the caning continued as if nothing had happened.

“Why is it just you two? Where’s Mintha?” The mayor asked. “She helped Nico get into the Selection, too.”

“I haven’t seen her in a while,” Hazel admitted. “Or her daughter.”

“Neither have I,” Her neighbor added. “I actually thought they moved. They didn’t?”

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, and silence filled the room as they waited for whatever would come next. Eventually, the caning ended and the camera followed the Royal Family as they left the stage to return to the Palace. Hazel wondered if they would show the Elites too, but that hope was dashed when the camera cut back to Hermes.

“Before our honored guests leave, why don’t we go back over the highlights of last night’s ball?” He said, that familiar twinkle returning to his eyes.

Hermes waved a hand, and the screen flickered. The stage was gone, and in its place was a grand hall crowded with well-dressed and well-heeled men and women.

The whiplash made Hazel want to be sick. It must’ve shown on her face, because the mayor’s wife offered her a bed.

“We’ll wake you if Nico shows up,” She said.

“No, thank you, I’m okay, really,” Hazel insisted. Nico had been there at the ball last night, and this morning too at the caning. The least Hazel could do if she wanted to understand what he was going through was watch it.

She sat on the couch stiff-backed and tight-lipped as the show went through the party, pointing out who was who, what was what, and who was wearing what. Hermes didn’t feature any Olympian Elite and kept on focusing on the Tartarian guests, and Hazel couldn’t help but be miffed despite knowing the ball had been held for the Tartarian princess.

“This is favoritism, plain and simple,” The mayor grumbled.

“It’s just a party,” His wife consoled him. “They threw that Five girl a birthday party too, remember? It doesn’t mean she’s going to win.”

“I remember that!” Hazel’s neighbor piped up. “Her name is Piper McLean, right? It was her birthday, and she sang a song.”

“They made such a big deal about it, too!” The wife nodded animatedly. “Of course she can sing, she’s a Five !”

“My thoughts exactly!”

Hazel let their chatter distract her, and soon the feature on the ball was over. Once again, Hermes returned to the screen. This time, instead of standing in front of that cursed stage, he was on a runway with a large, black airplane meters behind him.

“And we’re back! We’re live at the Palace to watch our dear guests’ departure!” He yelled over the wind whipping his hair in his face. “The Tartarian Family is exiting the Palace now. There they are!”

He pointed at them, and the camera zoomed in on the tiny figures making their way to the plane. They ascended the boarding ramp gracefully, and halted at the very top to wave at all the reporters and well-wishers present. Hermes exaggeratedly waved back, not stopping even as the King and Queen disappeared inside the plane. The camera stayed focused on the plane as the boarding ramp was taken away. It was sleek and dark as midnight, and for the first time Hazel realized what was depicted on its side - a violet helm on top of a violet scythe.

She remembered the men at her door and the neighbors she hadn’t seen in days. Maybe they were really never coming back. She wondered if any of this had anything to do with the Selection, if there was something sinister lurking beneath the grandeur. There was that attack on the Palace a few weeks back too, wasn’t there?

The questions ate at her.

Was Nico safe?

Had he ever been truly safe?

Would it be better for him to come home?

Hazel realized she knew so little of what was happening with the Selection. It frightened her, and so did the fact that she could do nothing. Whatever was happening, all she could do was hope Nico wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day passed by in a hazy blur. Nico could only vaguely remember stumbling out of his seat and heading back to the Palace, but soon he found himself back in his room and seated on the bed, hands furiously wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop falling down his cheeks.

He couldn't understand why he was crying when it hadn't been him on the other end of those rods. Maybe it was because he had known both Beckendorf and Silena. Maybe it was because he realized that that could've been him and Percy. Or maybe it was guilt that he hadn't been able to do anything.

Percy had tried, and the guards all but dragged him off the stage.

At that memory, Nico let out a choked sob, remembering how cold Percy looked even under the heat of the morning sun, how desperate his voice sounded as he screamed. Where did they take Percy? What was going to happen to him now? Nico wrapped his arms around himself, as if to protect himself from the reality of what had happened.

He stayed in bed until his room grew dark, and outside his balcony he saw the sun make way for stars. At one point, he heard a plane take off. None of it mattered to him. He closed his eyes and wondered what other dark secrets the Palace hid, how many more canings he'd have to sit through. When someone started knocking on his door, he simply ignored it, pretending he didn't hear anything.

Maybe in the morning he could pretend he was okay, too.

Percy didn't know what kind of punishment to expect after pulling a stunt like the one he just did, but he figured that being thrown into an underground prison was only appropriate.

"Quit pushing," He growled as the guard holding his arms continued to shove him into the prison cell made of stone and steel bars.

He stumbled, bracing himself on the disgustingly damp stone walls, but quickly righted himself. When he turned around, the guards were already leaving.

"What they're doing is wrong!" He screamed at the backs of the retreating guards. "How could you just let them do that! Beckendorf is one of us!"

But just like when he tried to stop the caning, nobody listened. Still, he continued screaming himself hoarse, even though the corridor was so dark he couldn't see if the other cells were occupied or if there were other guards still stationed in the prison. He screamed, even as the cold of the prison seeped into his bones.

"Oh my gods, shut up," Came a deep, grumbling voice from across the corridor.

Percy startled. He pressed his face against the bars, struggling to make out something, anything in the dark cell opposite his. There was someone else here, after all.

"Who's there?" He called out.

"You put me in here, you goddamn bastard!"

Percy was Jason's personal guard, which meant that Percy normally only busied himself with Jason's schedule and Jason's whereabouts. That was also why he didn't know if the Palace was currently housing prisoners or if there were guards stationed in this area. Still, there had to have been incidents where Percy had had people imprisoned, like if they had threatened Jason's safety or something.

"Who are you?" He asked again. "What's your name?"

The only answer he received was silence, so he wracked his brain for clues. There was that attack on the Palace a few weeks back, during that Selected's birthday, wasn't there? Rebels got inside the Palace, and Jason ordered Percy to lead a group to the basement for safety. Percy remembered feeling pissed that Jason didn't let him have some fun.

"Are you one of the rebels?" He asked the dimly-lit corridor.

"If I am, then so are you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Percy bristled inside his stone cage.

"I heard Beckendorf was getting caned today," The voice laughed. "And now here you are. I think I can guess what happened."

"He didn't deserve that!"

"I never said he did, but it still happened, didn't it?"

Percy couldn't figure out what the rebel was getting at, so they fell into an odd silence after that. Percy paced the small square of his cell, getting antsier and antsier by the second. He needed to get out. What was happening to Beckendorf?

"Let me out!" He banged his fists against the steel bars.

"That's obviously helping," The other man snorted.

Percy had opened his mouth to retort, when he heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. The footsteps got louder and louder, until a face appeared in front of Percy's cell. It was Zhang, looking like he had aged a year in a single night.

"It's over," He whispered, leaning against the bars. "The caning is over."

"Now what?" Percy's voice was a whisper, too.

"They're taking Beauregard to the infirmary. After that, they're sending her home," Zhang answered. "The Tartarians are going home, too, in an hour. The Palace is already preparing for their flight home."

"What about Beckendorf?"

"I don't know." Frank hung his head.

Percy wanted to hit something. He sucked his teeth.

"When am I getting out outta here?"

"Chiron said to put you here so His Majesty wouldn't be able to find you," Zhang frowned. "I guess you'll stay here until this whole thing blows over."

"That's bullshit."

Percy slumped back against the cold stone wall as Zhang hastily made his exit. He wondered if Jason would help him, and quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts. The Prince didn't lift a finger to help Beckendorf. Would Percy spending a few nights in prison bother him? Percy didn’t think so.

"Did you think that just because you're a Two on paper, it means you were worth shit?" It was the prisoner again, his voice mocking. "Those Ones don't care about any other Number. You're still a Seven to them, you know, nothing but a lesser."

"Shut up," Percy snapped, getting to his feet. He felt like he'd been wound too tight today, stretched too thin. He was a lit fuse waiting to blow. "Shut it. You're just a rebel. You don't know what you're talking about."

"How many times do I have to say this? I'm not a rebel."

Slowly, someone emerged from the darkness in the opposite cell. Percy's eyes widened as he took in the other prisoner's regal clothes. They were torn and mud-stained, but Percy knew they weren't the clothing of a lower Number.

"Actually, I'm a Selected. Well, was a Selected."

It was Chris Rodriguez.

"And then I poisoned the Prince."

Chapter Text

After seeing off the Tartarian Royal Family, Jason made his way to the hallway that housed the quarters of the Elites. With every step and with every passing minute, he felt more and more relieved. When he reached the door he was looking for, his heart soared at the chance to redeem himself. He ran a nervous hand through his hair and knocked.

Nothing happened.

He knocked again.

And again.

And again.

The still-closed door felt like a slap in the face.

He didn't know how long he stood in the bright, empty hallway, knocking, whether it had been seconds or minutes or hours. When his knuckles started to redden, he simply switched hands and continued to knock. He couldn't stop. He needed to see the person on the other side of the door.

He needed a lot of things, now that he thought about it.

He needed Nico to open the door for him. He needed Nico to look him in the eye and tell him that they were okay, that they were still them - Jason and Nico, just put in a bad situation.

He needed Nico to understand that he tried, that he did everything he could, that being a Prince sometimes meant making hard choices people wouldn’t understand.

He needed Nico to trust him again, the way the Eight trusted him enough to stay after the attack on the Palace.

But more than that, he needed Nico.

He opened the door.

On the other side of the planet, almost halfway across the world, King Poseidon of the Kingdom of Atlantis sat on his Palace's private beach, his toes buried in the fine, white sand while the waves licked up his calves.

He smiled as one of his Nereid attendants approached, her head bowed, her face covered by her long, flowing dark hair.

"Time for my favorite TV show?" He asked, already getting up.

"Yes, Your Majesty," The Nereid answered.

Poseidon wasted no time in trotting back to the Palace, his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind.

The Atlantic Palace was a thing of beauty made of sea stone and abalone shell. Its gardens were full of exotic sea plants, and the paths were lined with colored stone tiles. But Poseidon's favorite place in the whole Palace was his throne room, where his throne of coral overlooked a magnificent hall with a cobbled floor of gleaming pearls.

Today, he passed by the throne room with barely a glance, intent on making it to the entertainment room before his favorite international TV show came on.

Fortunately, he did.

He sank into the low-backed couch in front of the massive, wall-mounted TV in the entertainment room and got ready for the juiciest gossip as a familiar rainbow took up the screen. The rainbow shimmered for a second before disappearing, revealing an olive-skinned woman with long, dark hair and warm brown eyes.

“This is Iris, here to bring you every Iris Message under the rainbow!” She said.

As usual, she was wearing a hideously colored outfit that made Poseidon squint. For today’s episode, it was a dress that was blood-red at the top and sickly green at the bottom. She stood on a cloud-white stage, and behind her, a huge rainbow that Poseidon knew also doubled as a screen hung from the backdrop.

“And you’re watching the Global Royals!” She slowly waved a hand in the air, and the words GLOBAL ROYALS appeared in glittering, rainbow-colored cursive on the screen. The letters winked out of existence after a short chime.

“What Iris Messages did we get today, I wonder?”

She whipped a fishbowl filled with water out of thin air, and dropped a drachma into it. As if by magic, a rainbow-colored card shimmered into existence in the still water. Iris plucked the card from the fishbowl and held it between her now wet fingers.

“Here’s one. Live from our correspondent in the Kingdom of Olympus, the All-Seeing Helios!” The rainbow screen behind her flickered. “Helios, what do you see?”

On the screen, a dark-haired youth with light eyes suddenly appeared. He was in the middle of an empty street, in front of the mansion Poseidon recognized as the Palace of Olympus.

“I see everything, Iris,” He said. “But today, I see trouble brewing in mighty Olympus.”

Poseidon was giddy with excitement now, expecting another ridiculous feature on one of his brother Zeus’ many mistresses. Instead, the screen changed. The street Helios was in had turned into someplace else. The television screen now showed footage of a crowded place, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with Olympians. In the middle of the street was a stage, and on the stage, two bodies slumped over as they were whipped by masked guards.  

It was a caning.

His excitement gone, Poseidon passed a hand over his face, wishing he’d missed this episode. Sometimes, he regretted turning down all his councilors' offers of instituting espionage for the country. If he hadn't, someone could've probably informed him that today's episode wouldn't be a fun one. But using spies just wasn't his style.

It wasn't as if Atlantis needed spies either, because where Olympus boasted of its military might, Atlantis was an economic superpower. An archipelago spread out over three oceans, no trading ship went anywhere without passing through Atlantic territory. Not only that, Atlantis had also been blessed with bountiful waters and the most beautiful beaches.

Poseidon contemplated going back to the beach, but he stayed in his seat when Helios started talking.

“Last night, a reporter from the Tanaka Entertainment Network accidentally discovered one of the Selected’s Elites, Silena Beauregard, in an embrace with Charles Beckendorf, one of the King’s Guard,” Helios said. “Right now, we are watching footage of the caning of Beckendorf and Beauregard, recorded just hours ago from the Palace of Olympus.”

Poseidon scratched his head. A crime like that would've warranted an execution! The Zeus he knew would never have settled on a caning! Was his brother finally going soft ?

“Is my brother getting remarried?” He asked the room. Hera would've agreed with a harsh punishment if Zeus called for it, but maybe some other woman had convinced him otherwise?

“No, Your Majesty,” Four Nereids answered in unison.

“Are you guys sure?” Poseidon asked his Nereids again.

The camera panned to the stage, and for a few excruciating minutes Poseidon had to watch the two strangers getting beaten over and over and over again. Just when he thought it wouldn’t end, the camera zoomed into the line of guards by the back of the stage.

“In a surprising turn of events, the caning was interrupted by a guard assigned to the event,” Helios said. “This was not reported in any Olympian news programs, but eyewitness reports and various recorded footage have confirmed this interruption actually happened.”

Poseidon watched with wide eyes as a guard broke from the line and slapped the whipping rods out of the masked men's hands.

“The guard’s name is Perseus Jackson,” Helios continued. “Hailing from the province of Phthia, Perseus - or Percy as he is called by friends - was declared a Hero of Olympus a few years back for stopping a rebel attack in the small fishing province.”

Poseidon's heart thundered in his chest. It's just a coincidence, he thought.

“Jackson has been working as Prince Jason’s personal guard ever since,” Helios added.

The screen split into two. One continued showing footage of the caning, while the other displayed an official picture of the guard. He had wavy jet-black hair and sea-green eyes that seemed to hold the rage of a thousand oceans. For Poseidon, it was like looking at a picture of his younger self.

“S-somebody…“ He felt like he was choking on air. “Call… call my wife!"

Chapter Text

Nico sat up quickly, turning his red-rimmed eyes towards the opening door.

Jason's heart clenched at the sight.

"I'm sorry" was the first thing out of his mouth as he stepped into the room.

In that moment, he hated himself for it. He stood with his back to the door, afraid to take even a single step towards Nico. That wasn't what he wanted to say. What he wanted to say was, Are you okay? and Please understand.

"I'm sorry," He said again.

If Nico had heard him, he made no indication of it. He turned away from Jason and instead chose to stare blankly at the balcony, his dark eyes unreadable. His silence spoke volumes, and Jason felt like he was suffocating.

"I explained your situation to Her Majesty Persephone," Jason said, grasping for words that wouldn’t come. "And she promised that she'd make sure His Majesty Hades apologized."

He didn't think the matter with Hades mattered anymore, but he needed to speak, if only to fill the room with words. He needed to speak, if only to try to make Nico look at him. He needed to speak, because Nico already looked so far away , and Jason didn’t know how else to reach him, if not with words.

"It might not be a public apology," Jason continued, drowning in the sound of his loud, loud words in the silent room. "But I'll let you know the moment Tartarus sends word."

Still, Nico kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the dark sky outside the balcony. Even in the darkness of the room, Jason knew the Eight looked shattered . He knew he was fighting a losing battle, but it still hurt to realize Nico would never come to understand the caning.

"Nico, please look at me," Jason finally pleaded. "Please, look at me ."

Nico didn't want to.

Because if he did, he'd remember how cold Jason's blue eyes looked during the caning. He looked like a statue, still and unfeeling. He looked like his parents, like a One who’d never been anything else. He looked so different from the Jason standing in his room now, who wore his heart on his sleeve, whose eyes spoke all the words his mouth didn’t.

"The caning- th-this morning..." Jason was stuttering. He never stuttered on television. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

Nico wondered how he'd forgotten that Jason had always, always been a Prince, never just a man.

Maybe it was the date they went on in the Palace gardens. That day, Nico had kicked Jason even after being told he couldn't touch the Prince at all, and he hadn't been punished or even scolded for it. Maybe Nico had gotten it into his head that the rules around Jason didn't apply to him.

"But - they had to be caned," Jason's voice was quiet, unassuming, like the voice of a lower Number. "There was... no way around it. The news had spread, and letting them go would've been more disastrous."

Maybe it was the fact that Jason let Nico call him Jason , and not ‘Your Royal Highness’ like everyone else did. Or maybe it was that they had shared so many intimate moments together, away from everything else, away from the world, that Nico conveniently forgot just who Jason was. They'd blurred the line between Selected and Prince so, so many times, after all.

"And I wanted to warn you about the caning - please believe me - but there just wasn't enough time."

How could Nico have forgotten that choosing Jason meant choosing a Prince, too? Jason came with a whole country on his shoulders and the world on his back, and that scared Nico, because he wasn’t a One.

He wasn’t one of those who could sentence others to something as cruel as a caning. He wasn’t one of those who could hurt another without blinking an eye, the way the Tartarian King had hurt him. He wasn’t one of those, and he couldn’t be.

He couldn’t be a One.

“Please, talk to me.” Jason sagged against the door. “Just, just please, listen to me.”

He didn’t know what else to say. What else could he say? He looked down at his hands and at the mauve carpet covering the floor, and wondered why his vision was going blurry. He passed a hand over his face and frowned when his fingers came away wet.

Tears.

His mother would laugh.

“I had no choice, please understand.” Jason’s voice was wrecked. “It was either a caning or a beheading - “

It was the wrong thing to say.

"A beheading?” Nico whipped around and he stumbled off the bed, his voice horrified and accusatory. “You would order that ?”

“No!” Jason shook his head. Why was it that he always said the wrong thing around Nico? “But the King might have - or - or - “

“But you're the Prince,” Nico whispered, almost to himself.

“Yes , but I can't always go against my parents!” Jason felt like his world was slipping through his fingers. What did he have to say to make things okay again? “But when I’m King - “

“You're the Prince,” Nico dazedly repeated.

“Yes - “

“I can’t do this, Jason,” Nico said, looking Jason in the eye for the first time that night. “I can’t go through that again, I can’t - “

“But this is part of life in the Palace, Nico.” Jason wiped the back of his hand across his eyes, his breathing harsh. “It’s not all balls and parties and stupid shit ! This is part of our lives now!”

"Our lives? I'm not a One, Jason!" Nico was screaming now. "Count the Numbers! I'm an Eight !"

"But you can be a One." Jason's voice dropped to a whisper. I wanted you to be the one, he thought.

Jason wondered if he’d been too greedy. Had he been too selfish? He’d always thought that if he worked hard enough, if he gave enough of himself, maybe he could earn his happily-ever-after. But maybe he was never meant to have both his country and his happiness.

“No, I can’t be a One, Jason...” Nico buried his face in his hands and sobbed into his palms. “That’s you . You’re the Prince.”

"But you said you liked me." Jason’s voice was ragged.

“You , yes,” Nico waved an arm about the room, at the fancy clothing he didn’t own strewn about, at the even fancier furniture adorning the room. “But this ? I can’t- this isn’t me-"

"Who would you have me be, then, Nico? Who? " Jason cried, sweeping a hand towards himself. "I'm your Jason, yes, but I'm this country's Prince, too!"

“I know,” Nico whimpered. “I know. ”

And Nico sounded so defeated, so disappointed that all the fight left Jason, too. Jason staggered backwards, and hastily, almost angrily, wiped the tears from his cheeks. He had always thought Nico was the one. Maybe he was wrong about that, too.

He turned around and fled the room, his heart in pieces.

Chapter Text

Nico had had plenty of sleepless nights in the Palace. He was used to passing the hours by staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the night and of his own slow heartbeat. He was used to getting up in the morning weak and boneless, limp as a doll as the Nines entered his room to wash and dress him. He was used to dragging his feet all the way to the main dining hall for breakfast.

Nobody looked up from their plates as he entered, and Nico felt like they were back to the beginning of the Selection, when all the rooms felt too big, too lonely. He took long, slow steps to the mahogany dining table that spanned the room and counted the number of occupied chairs to distract himself from the cold seeping into his bones. Twelve.

"Still here?" Leo gave him a wary smile, and pulled out the empty chair beside his.

Nico nodded as he sat down.

There were twelve of them left.

He wondered when Jason would make him leave, if Jason would personally send him out. Probably not, he thought. There was no way Jason would want to see him again, not after everything Nico said last night, not after Nico screamed at him that he didn't want the responsibilities, the duties, anything that came with Jason. Not after Nico had admitted that he wanted just Jason, and not the Prince.

Nico dropped the fork he was holding and quietly sobbed into his palm.

"It's over," Leo wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to his chest. "It's all over now."

Yes, it is, Nico thought.


Half a week had passed since the caning. It had been half a week since Jason had returned to burying himself in work. Half a week since that night, when Jason lost the one person he ever wanted, the future he thought -

"I said no!" Dionysus slammed his hands onto the marble tabletop. "Why don't you understand! We can't wait. We need to show the world we're in control, the Selection is still happening, that nothing's wrong - "

Jason dragged himself out of his thoughts. We need to show the world we're in control , he'd heard that one before. From Hermes, that time when Beckendorf and Silena had been caught, and the host had insisted on releasing a statement on television.

That was where this whole shitshow - Gaia, did he just say shit ? - began, with Beckendorf and Silena getting caught. If they hadn't done that, maybe they wouldn't have been caught, maybe there wouldn't have been a caning, maybe Nico would still -

"And you think a Challenge is the best way to do that?" Chiron's voice was high with disbelief. "A Challenge where you'll bring the Prince around the kingdom, so soon after the caning, and despite the attack on the Palace?"

"No, that's the next Challenge," Dionysus pinched his eyebrows together, obviously running out of patience. "For this challenge, we'll just be taking pictures. Besides, figuring out that attack is your job, not mine."

Both pairs of eyes turned to him, and Jason knew they were waiting on him to decide. But what could he say? He couldn't even make the right decisions for himself.

"What did the King and Queen say?" He said, stalling.

Chiron gave him a look.

Jason averted his eyes, feeling like Chiron could read into his soul. They both knew Jason wasn't the type to wait around for his parents to decide. He ran the Kingdom, not them.

"How many times do I have to say this: we can't wait !" Dionysus was screaming again. He frowned at Jason. "What will it be, Your Highness?"

Jason was taken aback. Usually, it was him giving out the ultimatums, not the other way around. But he hadn't been himself these past few days. Although he'd buried himself in work, he'd been avoiding everything that had to do with the Selection. He felt lost, unsure of himself. He hadn't even visited Percy's cell yet, afraid that it would draw the King and  Queen’s attention to the guard.

"O-okay," Jason stuttered. He never stuttered. "Okay then. Yes, let's do it."

"This is absurd," Amphitrite stood in the towering chamber that was the war room, with her hands on her hips, her flowing black hair pinned back in a net of pearls and silk. "We looked for him all over, and now he suddenly appears out of nowhere, on television?" 

"We didn't look for him in my brother's Kingdom," Poseidon replied.

"Because it was unthinkable that he would end up there!" She gripped the fabric of her simple white gown in white-knuckled fists. "Sally Jackson never left Atlantis, didn't you make sure of that!"

The thing was, Poseidon had.

Sally had left him so suddenly, he just knew something had happened. He had his Nereids watch over her, and months later they reported that she was with child. His child. Perseus Jackson was his name, they said. But by the time Poseidon came for his new family, they were gone.

Poseidon put the country under lock down. For months, trade in the country ground to a halt. Poseidon stopped every ship from leaving the country, and he placed additional guards at every border. None of it mattered - they never found his little Perseus.

But he was here now.

"Indeed, he looks just like you when you were younger, and he has the same name as your son, too," Amphitrite lifted a hand and gestured to the wide, heavy oak table, where pages upon pages of paper were scattered, all of them on the black-haired green-eyed youth from the GLOBAL ROYALS. "But I'm still suspicious. I believe this is all just a ploy by that brother of yours, and his scheming snake of a wife."

"That is a possibility, yes." Poseidon laughed. "But it's a risk we'll have to take."

"We," Amphitrite scoffed with a sour face.

"We," Poseidon repeated.

"Fine, call the Nereids and bring him here."

"Already did," Poseidon grinned.

Chapter Text

Nico thought he would be gone within the week. What he didn't expect was that the Palace would hold a Selection Challenge so soon after the caning, as if nothing had happened.

The Challenge for today was a photoshoot, and a set had been erected in one of the Palace's many high-ceilinged function halls. The backdrop of the set was a huge tapestry hung on the wall, depicting gentle blue skies and a fierce eagle taking flight. On either side were floor-to-ceiling white pillars, and in the middle was a small, low-backed couch.

To Nico, it looked no different from the wooden structure they had erected for the caning. It too was a display of power and control, just prettier and shinier.

He saw the caning everywhere, now.

He saw it in the wary eyes of every Selected, the way they moved, they way they talked. He saw it in the predatory glint of the cameras. Worst of all, he saw it in Jason's face, in the sharp, strong line of his jaw, his distant blue eyes, the stiff line of his back.

Jason sat on the couch, wearing a cream-colored royal jacket pinned with glittering medals and gold-trimmed red pants, looking every bit the Prince that Nico forgot he was. Beside him was Princess Bianca, who had one hand on his chest. She was wearing a cap-sleeved drop-waist dress of the same cream color, identical to all the other girls' dresses.

Both of them were staring straight at the camera, wearing picture-perfect smiles.

Nico had to look away.

"First, they make us throw her a party. Then, they turn us into extras to make her look better." Zöe had walked up to him, a glare in her usually kind eyes. "What's next?"

"Extras?  That's way too generous. Look at this," Drew said as she joined their little group. She angrily ran a hand down the length of her sleeve. "This color is hideous. It only looks good on her!"

Nico self-consciously glanced down at himself. He was wearing the same color, but in a royal jacket similar to the Prince's. For once, he agreed with Drew. He was already pale, and the stress of the past few days was making him look a little ill. The color only made him look paler and sicklier.

"I don't see the point of all this, anyway," Zöe continued to sulk.

Nico wanted to remind her of how eagerly she had participated in the previous Challenges, and how she even won the third one, but he understood the hopelessness and defeat she felt. After the Queen introduced Bianca, it quickly became clear who was going to win the Selection. The mood had only worsened after the caning.

Nico had never noticed it before, too wrapped up in him and Jason and Percy.

"They're making sure she photographs well with him," Drew said, answering Zöe. "And they're using us for comparison."

"I think that'll do, Your Highnesses!” The photographer said loudly, before looking around the room. "Who's next?"

Drew left Nico's side, walking up to the set without any of the grace she'd exhibited the first few days. Her shoot took less than half the time of the Princess,' and Nico wondered if that was just because Drew was a Two and knew how to model.

But then Calypso took even less time.

And soon it was his turn.

Nico looked at Jason, swallowed, and walked up to the set.

"Hello," Jason said, and he wished it didn't hurt how distressed Nico looked at that simple greeting.

The Elite sat a ways from him, completely avoiding his eyes, and Jason could do nothing but stare at the space between them. Those few inches felt like a thousand miles, and Jason knew there was no bridging that distance anymore. They'd gone back to square one, with no chance of ever moving on.

"You have to sit closer!" The photographer called out.

Nico flinched, before moving closer agonizingly slow. Jason's eyes followed the slim line of his body, underneath the cream-colored royal jacket so similar to his. The color complemented his dark hair and eyes. He looked princely, like a One -

'But this? I can’t - this isn’t me -'

"Look here, please!" The photographer waved a hand in the air. "And smile!"

He clicked away to what Jason knew were grimaces on both his and Nico's faces. He couldn't smile. How could he, when Nico looked so pained just by being in his presence?

'I can’t go through that again, I can’t - '

Jason cleared his scratchy throat. When he and Nico had their... argument - was it an argument? Jason always thought of it as a break-up, the end of a relationship that hadn't even started yet - Jason had lost his mind. He was a Prince born of Kings, a One born of Ones. He had wished Nico would understand that whatever happened in the Palace, whether good or bad, whether it was a caning or a celebration, it was Jason's to suffer through.

But life in the Palace wasn't for everyone, and it certainly wasn't for Nico.

Nico had always looked scared in front of the cameras, tongue-tied whenever he was being interviewed. He was tense even during the meals at the dining hall. Jason knew he rarely left his room, and when he did he always looked so lost in the Palace, like the hallways were so foreign and nothing was familiar.

Even today, Nico was practically glowering at the photographer.

Life in the Palace wasn't for everyone, and Jason had to accept that.

"Alright, we're fine!" The photographer stepped back from his camera. "We're done, who's next?"

"We're done," Jason repeated to Nico.

Nico stood.

Jason watched him leave.

Chapter Text

Percy gripped the cold bars of his cell and glared into the darkness of the dungeon opposite his.

"Rodriguez, huh? You're the one who poisoned the Prince during the 3rd Selection Challenge..." Percy frowned. That incident happened months ago. "Why are you still here? They should've shipped you off to the Underworld by now."

"The Underworld?" Chris wildly shook his head, the strands of brown hair whipping his cheeks. "That's a prison , and I'm not a criminal."

Percy remembered the day Jason fainted in the large kitchen, his face pale as death as he was carried out of the room on a stretcher. What Rodriguez did was a capital offense, a crime that should've warranted a one-way trip to the international prison the Underworld.

"Oh, that's right, you're not." Percy grit his teeth. "You're even worse. You're an Eleven now. An untouchable."

"I'm not a criminal," Rodriguez repeated, unfazed. "All I wanted was to free our people from the shackles of their Numbers. I'm a revolutionary. You should be thanking me."

Percy moved away from the bars and back to the darkness further inside his cell, convinced the other detainee had gone mad from his imprisonment. Even before Selection, Rodriguez had been a high Number, a Two who had probably been used to all the comforts life had to offer and then some. The prison might have broken something in him.

He rubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands and wondered how long he'd have to stay here. However long it was, he could take it.

He had to.

A day passed, and then another, and another, and another, until it had been a week.

Percy was getting tired of his cold, cramped prison cell, and the insane mutterings of his fellow prisoner. Chris was in another one of his insane tirades, even now.

"What did the Ones do for us to worship the ground they walk on?" He asked the air.

"They run the kingdom." Percy was on his back on the floor, but he managed a shrug. "They feed us, clothe us, and keep a roof over our heads."

He knew he was only encouraging Chris's crazy by responding, but there was nothing else for him to do within these cold, dark stone walls. It was boring, boring, boring . 

"Wrong!" Chris practically shouted. "Sixes and Sevens feed us, Nines clothe us, and Eights keep the roofs over our heads! The only thing Ones do is lord over us. But what gives them that right?" 

"They were born for it," Percy grunted in reply. 

"How about those lower Numbers, who were born to be servants? Those who were born to be nothing?" Chris was agitatedly pacing his cell. "Would you tell them the same thing, that they were born for it?"

"No, I'd tell them to climb their way up." Percy paused. "Like I did."

"But what happened with you was nothing short of a miracle, Jackson. Most Sevens don't fight, and they usually fall to Tens when they do, don't you know?" 

Percy turned on his side, folding his arm under his head. Sure, he was the only other person in the prison block, but there was no point in Chris preaching to him . He was a Seven . He knew how hard life was for a lower Number, knew how it felt to work all day and still go to bed hungry. He still remembered the ache in his back and stomach when he used to sit in his little fishing boat for days. 

"There are other ways." Percy thought about it. "They could buy their way up - "

"Only Fives make enough money for that."

" - or bring glory to the Kingdom by making some huge discovery or something - "

"Only Fours study." 

" - or gain honor by fighting in some war - " 

"Only Twos fight." 

" - or marry up? " Percy finished lamely, running out of things to say.

"You think someone will want to marry down ?"

Percy sat up and rubbed his eyes. He sighed.

"Look, I get what you're trying to say, I really do" -That life in their ‘great’ Kingdom was unfair, that it was hard, Percy already knew all of that- "But we can't do anything about it. That's the way it's always been. What can we change?" He looked at the cell opposite his.

In his dark cell, it seemed as if Chris's eyes were glowing. "Everything," he said. "We can change everything."

Chapter Text

After watching the Daily Olympus at the mayor's house a week ago and realizing she knew nothing about the Selection outside of the Olympus Royal Report, Hazel eventually gave in to her neighbor's teasing and bought a TV.

It made the tiny living room even more cramped, but at least Hazel could now keep herself updated with what was going on in the country, the rest of the world, and most importantly, the Selection. Just the other night, she watched a feature on the Royal Family of Tartarus, and after that she spent the entire day learning about the complicated history between her Kingdom and their country. She understood now how important it was for Bianca to secure a marriage with Prince Jason.

But that didn't mean she could support Bianca's bid for the Selection, because Hazel knew Nico liked Jason. 

"Welcome back to the Olympus Royal Report!" A voice came from the TV, and Hazel snapped out of her thoughts to return to the tattered, ratty couch in the living room. 

Onscreen, Hermes appeared with a flourish, the tails of his black coat swishing behind him. Hazel was familiar with Hermes's stage now, with the white clouds hanging from above the stage and the background blue like the sky. However, instead of the throne-like golden seats reserved for the Royal Family, there was a diamond-tufted couch at the center. 

"One week ago, we held a Grand Ball for the Kingdom of Tartarus’ First Princess, Her Highness Bianca!" Hermes walked over to the couch from his podium, "And a reporter from the Tanaka Entertainment Network discovered something horrific -"

Hazel scoffed. That wasn’t how she would have put it. 

" - but we won't be talking about that tonight. Tonight, we're talking about a rumor that sprang from that discovery, and has been making the rounds around all Numbers." He leaned back against the couch. "Let's welcome the lovely Drew Tanaka!"

The camera panned to the side and followed a tall, thin, perfectly made-up girl as she walked up to the couch. 

"It's so good to see you again, Hermes, dear," She cooed as she kissed the host on the cheek before sitting down, her body expertly angled towards the camera.

"Beautiful as always, Miss Drew," Hermes said, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "But you know why I'm interviewing you - and just you! - today, yes?" 

"I do, yes."

Hermes faced the audience. "My dear citizens of Olympus, after that horrible caning last week, a rumor started floating around that Miss Drew here," he gestured to her, "Orchestrated the whole thing to get ahead in the Selection!"

There were exaggerated gasps from the audience. 

"That's what I thought so, too! But alas, the reporter who discovered the sordid affair was from the Tanaka Entertainment Network, so tongues started wagging." He turned back to Drew. "Some people believe you set Miss Silena and Mister Charles up to make sure they were both in that room, and then you had your reporter ‘accidentally’ find them. These people say that there was no way that reporter didn't have insider info, because the room the two were found in was in a remote part of the Palace that the reporter shouldn't have had access to. What do you say to these people?"

"First of all, good evening to all my fellow Olympians." Drew’s voice was calm and steady. She levelled the cameras with a stare that said she had nothing to hide. She looked equal parts perplexed and shocked, scandalized that people were accusing her. 

Hazel knew she was guilty the moment she walked up the stage. 

"I will be the first to deny that I had anything to do with that night," Drew continued. "I was in the grand ballroom the entire time, and did not lead anyone anywhere, much less to those two to, ahem, undressing themselves in some hidden room somewhere."

The audience laughed. Hazel didn't see what was so funny. 

"Secondly, I would never use such underhanded methods to win the Selection." Drew put a hand to her chest, as if making a promise. "The next Child of Olympus must be - " 

Hazel changed the channel, disappointed. She only watched the Olympus Royal Report to catch a glimpse of her brother, but lately all the focus had been on the caning or on that princess. Now that the attention on the caning was dying down, she thought Hermes would return to featuring all the Elites. 

No such luck. 

She moved to get up from the couch and go back to the kitchen, but then she landed on a channel with Percy's picture splashed across most of the screen. 

"Remember, you heard it here first, on the GLOBAL ROYALS!" An olive-skinned woman said, swaying as she stood to the side. 

Below Percy's picture were the words, Kingdom of Atlantis finds lost prince. 

Hazel choked and dropped the remote. 

Percy didn't know how long he'd been imprisoned.

The meals came regularly, everyday he was led out of his cell to take a cold bath in the guards' barracks - a luxury not afforded to Chris - and he had even kept to the daily training regimen assigned to the guards. But his mind couldn't keep track of the time. His mind was always elsewhere, on whatever topic Chris would choose for the day.

Yesterday, it was the accessibility of generalized education for everyone. Percy thought it was only practical that any Olympian was taught only what was relevant to their profession. But now he realized: where did that leave anyone who wanted to learn other things? Just because Percy - and everyone he ever knew - didn't want to learn anything besides fishing didn't mean that no one else in his home province of Phthia did. 

The other day, they talked about mobility, and how Olympians should have the right to at least see the rest of the Kingdom they worked so hard for. 

"But we do have the right to travel," Percy had argued, remembering the horse-drawn carriages that pulled in and out of the Palace daily. 

"Before you became a Two, had you ever gone anywhere else outside of Phthia?" Chris had asked. 

"... No?" 

"And why was that?" 

"Because it was expensive..." Percy had put a hand to his chin, thinking. "Only the mayor had a carriage, and hiring one would cost you about... a month's wages."

"Exactly," Chris had said, obviously satisfied. 

Percy wasn't. He couldn't understand what Chris was getting at on that one. Giving every Olympian a carriage seemed like a wildly impractical answer. And why would they want to travel anywhere anyway? Phthia, in Percy's opinion, had the most beautiful beaches in the world. Just thinking about the sun on his skin and the waves licking up his calves made him miss the province. Compared to that, it was no wonder the Palace never felt like home to him. 

Percy wondered when the other would wake up and what they would discuss today. When did he go from thinking Chris was crazy to looking forward to their conversations? He shook his head- it was probably the isolation from being imprisoned.

He never thought about these things before. Even when he was a Seven, he was content with his lot. He liked fishing, and he loved the water. When he became a Two, he replaced fishing with training, and his love for water with his love for the excitement that always surrounded the Palace. He was content. He never had any reason to look beyond himself. 

But here, in this cold, dark prison cell with only Chris as company, he had nothing to do but think. 

Percy supposed he had Chris to be grateful to, for introducing him to all these new ideas. But ultimately, the caning opened his eyes to the fact that not everything was golden and beautiful in his Kingdom.

How could that happen to Beckendorf? How could Jason let it?

Percy had no answer.

The door to the underground prison creaked open, and Percy rose to his feet. Must be breakfast, he thought, stretching languidly. Footsteps hurried through the corridor, and Chris sat up in his cell, groaning. 

Soon Zhang's face was peeking through the steel bars in Percy's cell.

"P-Percy..." His voice was shaking, and the frightened look in his eyes instantly put Percy on edge.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked, wrapping his hands around the steel bars. "Another attack? Is it the rebels again?" 

"I told you," Chris yawned. "You're just as much of a rebel as the rest of us."

Percy made a face at Chris. They've talked about that before, and Percy was adamant that his critical opinions about the way the Kingdom was run did not make him a rebel. 

"No, it's not that," Zhang wildly shook his head. "They said that you... You're a-a- "

"A what?" Percy gritted his teeth.

"A traitor?" Chris smirked. "Oh, I know! An Eleven?"

"No!" Zhang almost yelled. "Percy, you're a Prince."

Chapter Text

Jason sank onto the leather wingback chair in his bedchamber upon hearing the news. He placed his hands in front of his face, and realized he couldn't see past his fingers. 

Percy, his guard, a prince ?

How did that happen? When? Had he always been - ? Jason ran both of his hands through his hair, tugging at his roots. He needed the pain to center himself. Nico had already left him, tearing to pieces the only future he had wanted. Was Percy, his only friend in the Palace, about to leave him, too? 

If he were a normal man and not a One, maybe Nico would've wanted to spend his life with him. If he weren't a Prince, he wouldn't have been worrying his whole life about traitors and spies, and maybe he would have met and made other friends who weren't Percy. 

But he wasn't a normal man. He was a One. He was a Prince. 

"Why do you look so down, my dear? There's no problem, is there?" His mother was seated on his four-poster bed, legs crossed at the ankles. She stared at him with bored, uninterested eyes. “Thankfully Hermes managed to keep the local media from filming how that Jackson boy interrupted the caning, so we don’t have to worry about appearing like we’re coddling an enemy of the Crown. But for the rest of the world, we’ll have to say we’re letting him go - “

"Wh-what?" Jason's voice was higher and thinner than he remembered it sounding, but Hera only chuckled. 

" - and forgiving his trespass on account of the good friendship and trade relationship we've been enjoying with Atlantis." 

"Are we just sending Percy away like this?" Jason could hear the desperation in his own voice. "He's not just my guard. He's my friend. We've been together since - " 

"Oh, darling," Hera's voice was even more patronizing than before, and she looked nothing but highly amused by Jason's worry. "That doesn’t have to change. You two are both Princes now, so you'll have to mind yourself a bit more, but he can still be your friend, can’t he?"

Jason harshly rubbed at his eyes. His mother didn't get it. How were they to remain friends, when the last thing he did for Percy was sit back and watch as the other was imprisoned? He hadn't even had the chance to visit his friend in prison before the news came out. 

It was the caning all over again. It was the situation with Nico all over again. Jason had done everything he could, and it still wasn't enough. 

He wasn't enough. 

Being a Prince, Percy thought, was like drowning.

It was knowing that despite how much he loved the water, his lungs would still burn for air. It was the sense of wrongness, the desperation to get to the surface. It was kicking his legs as powerfully as he could, but not knowing which way was up and which was down. It was being moved from a dark, damp prison cell to a bedroom bigger than the entire guards' barracks. It was having Nines taking his measurements to sew him a suit . 

"Turn this way, please," Said the Nine running a measuring tape across his chest. 

Percy turned and caught a glimpse of himself in the full-body standing mirror in the corner of his humongous room. Didn't he look weird? Before this, the most formal thing he'd worn was the ceremonial outfit guards had to wear for special occasions. Now, he was in a tailored suit . 

"We're done, Your Highness." The Nine at his back said, and two other Nines rushed forward to hand him his robe. Seriously, how many of them were in his room? 

"Just call me Percy," He said, shrugging on the robe. He didn't think he would ever get used to being called Your Highness . For him, that title was reserved for Jason and Jason alone. 

"The suit will be finished within the day, and then we'll be back for the final fitting."

Percy nodded absently, his eyes on the glittering, almost sparkling room. Just a week ago, he was standing on the caning stage under the heat of the midday sun, thinking of how he would have put a stop to it if he were a prince. Now, as if some sick god had granted his unvoiced wish, he was an actual Prince. 

But was there still something he could do for Beckendorf at this point? The caning was done and over with, but there had to be something. He had a lot of money saved from his salary as a Two, so maybe he could give them financial support? No, money wouldn't matter to them now, because no store would sell to an Eleven. 

He gritted his teeth. He wouldn't get anywhere thinking by himself like this. But the only person he could ask about this Prince stuff was Jason, and Percy didn't want to ask for the blonde's help. He couldn't ask Chiron or any of the other guards either, not after they all just stood by while Beckendorf was getting caned. 

But Percy wouldn't, couldn't accept that there was nothing he could do. He was a Prince now. There had to be something, and he had to find that something. His lungs were burning, and he had to get to the surface. 

No, wait, maybe he could bring Beckendorf and Silena with him to Atlantis? Would that save them? Was that the way to go up? Was he kicking his legs in the right direction? 

Percy didn't know what to do, and for the first time he had no one to turn to. 

Being a Prince, he decided, was gasping for air and ending up with lungs full of water.

Chapter Text

Percy was pulling on his riding boots when a knock sounded at his door. 

He dropped the boots and moved for the door, but the Nines still buzzing around the room reached it first. Percy sighed, exasperated. He could get the door by himself! 

"Your Highness," Hermes said as he stepped into the room. 

In all his years at the Palace, this was probably the first time Hermes had addressed him with something close to respect . Of course, he knew it was only because he was a Prince now. A heavy feeling settled on his chest.

"Don't call me that," He said, his voice stern.

Hermes merely raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. He settled into the low-backed couch opposite Percy’s weirdly ornate bed and raised his legs on the small glass-top coffee table in front of it. “Very well, Percy . Why don’t you sit and let’s chat a bit, hm?”

“That’s more like it,” Percy said, sitting at the far end of the couch. “You kiss Hera and Zeus’ asses enough, no need to kiss mine.”

Hermes made a face, but he went straight to business anyway. “Your father - that’s King Poseidon, in case you don’t know - wants you home, but we can’t fly you out to Atlantis first thing because of the 6th Selection Challenge.”

Percy ignored the jab. “What’s the next Challenge?”

“Ugh, I shouldn’t tell you, but you’ll probably find out soon anyway, right? And I do need to tell you so you don’t raise a fuss about not flying to Atlantis immediately,” Hermes chewed on his lower lip for a minute, but Percy knew Hermes was losing this battle. The host loved to talk. “Okay, whatever, just don’t tell anyone. So! Because we’re down to only a couple Elites - “

“Didn’t we still have, like, a dozen? Twelve?” 

“No, we’re having Jason eliminate a couple before the Challenge. Stop interrupting me.” Hermes looked annoyed. “ Anyway , there’s only a couple, so we’re having His Highness visit their provinces to get to know them and their background better.”

Something clicked inside Percy’s head. Jason would go around the provinces. Maybe Phthia, too? His boat should still be there...

“The Kingdom’s tourist arrivals have been low since the attack on the Palace too, so we’re hoping this gets our numbers back up,” Hermes continued. “And, of course, it’s the perfect opportunity to introduce Princess Bianca to our culture.”

“I wanna go,” Percy suddenly said, shocking even himself. “I wanna come with.”

Hermes stopped in the middle of his sentence.

Percy opened his mouth to say that it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, just another thoughtless, selfish request, but then he thought better of it. That would be lying. He knew why he wanted to stay. He wanted to know what happened to Beckendorf and Silena, and help them. 

A Challenge where the Elites went around the entire Kingdom was the perfect time to do something. 

Percy had been a guard for the past few years, and he knew how such an event would play out. Transporting a member of the Royal Family required staff and security of such numbers that it would paralyze Palace operations. Percy could see it now: Chiron would pull some guards from the Palace and some guards from the surrounding provinces to provide security to the Challenge. Half the kitchen staff would be brought along on the trip, and there would be more Nines and cameramen than anyone could count. They would have to change carriages and trains, and change often, because some provinces were inaccessible by carriages, some inaccessible by trains.

The preparation for the trip would be absolute chaos .

But Percy could make use of that chaos. If Chris was still in the Palace, then it was likely that Beckendorf and Silena were, too.  He would find them, and smuggle them into whatever carriage or train they were taking. It would be easy, in the confusion of the Challenge. Once they reached Phthia, where he had boats and hideouts and friends on his side, he would ask someone to take them to Atlantis.

He could do it. He could save them.

But Percy had to admit that that wasn’t all he wanted to do. He wanted other things, too. He wanted to know the rest of Olympus, to experience the traveling that he and Chris spoke of. 

“I want to see Phthia again before I leave," He said, and although it wasn't a lie, the half-truth still left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

"Oh? But I don’t think any of the Elites are from Phthia. Your province’s candidate was eliminated pretty early." Hermes cocked his head. 

"Won’t they have to pass by Phthia anyway? And I’m a Prince now, right? I’m sure I can personally ask Jason. Or even Her Majesty Hera!"

Hermes looked thoughtful. He lowered his legs to the carpeted floor and leaned forward, smiling his TV host-smile at Percy. “I think you coming along to the Challenge would be a great idea. Actually, I heard Atlantis wanted to throw you a party to celebrate and introduce you, but of course, they can't do that if you're staying here. So I’m thinking, why don’t we have you featured in the Report during the Challenge? That way, you could stay here in Olympus, and Atlantis would still have its introductions. And maybe we can get His Highness Jason to guest with you!"

“So I have to appear on TV and stuff? I’m cool with that.” Percy waved a hand in the air, the action a bit forceful. Then, he picked up his riding boots from the floor. "This has been nice and all, but I was actually about to go for a walk. So if you're done...?" 

"I am." Hermes stood from the couch, grinning from ear to ear. "I’ll tell Their Majesties and the Elites the amazing news that you’ll be joining us. See you for rehearsals!"

Percy slipped on the boots, watching as Hermes left the room. He had a plan now, but still no idea where Beckendorf or Selena could be. He couldn't get help from Jason or any of the guards. That left the Palace staff... 

And the Elites. 

Not only did the Tartarian Princess' arrival blow out the competitive fire in the Elites' eyes, it also gave Hermes and Mr D a new target to latch on to.

Before, no matter how hard Nico tried to fly under their radar, Hermes's cameras and mics still found him. Nico didn't know if that was because he was known as Jason's favorite, or if it was the host working hard to shine the spotlight on every Selected. But it didn't matter anymore, because recently, every Olympus Royal Report and Selection Challenge revolved around the Princess and the Princess alone.

That changed the week of the caning, when all everyone talked about was the unfortunate event, much to Nico's chagrin. But after that, everything went right back to how it was before - with Bianca as the star of every show.

Nico didn't mind. He didn't have a right to. He knew he was staying in the Palace as an Elite on borrowed time. Any day now, Jason would send him home. The Prince was probably just too busy with whatever other secret the Palace was hiding. 

Nico told himself he didn't care.

He continued spending his days in his room, hanging out with Leo when the other called for him, and dressing up only during the rare instance that they were needed for decoration during TV shows.

He thought it would be another slow day today and was surprised when a knock came at his door. His heart thundered in his chest. Was today the day? He threw the lilac silk blankets off his legs and stood from his four-poster bed on shaky legs. He walked over to the mulberry-colored door and swallowed. He was going to miss this room.

He pulled open the door.

Frank inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when the famed Mr. di Angelo appeared on the other side of the door.

The last time he was here was the night Ms Beauregard and Beckendorf's affair was discovered, when instead of the timid dark-haired boy, the door opened to reveal His Highness the Prince. Frank had almost jumped out of his skin. Fortunately, the mulberry-colored wooden door held no surprises for him today. He didn't think he could take it, not after having the biggest surprise of his life: the fact that his fellow guard Jackson was the Prince of Atlantis.

"Can I have a moment to pack my bags?" Mr di Angelo asked in a quiet, shaky voice.

"What?" Frank responded intelligently. "Um, I mean, there's no need to bring anything. We'll just be going to the main hall for an important announcement."

"What kind of announcement?" The Elite asked, looking even more nervous. 

"Um, please just follow me," Frank said, instead of answering.

They made their way to the great hall, a wide, spacious room with an oak hammerbeam roof. The hall was lined with wooden chairs, and at the front sat a paltry number of Elites. It seemed there were more cameramen than Elites, their cameras pointed towards the stage, where Hermes, Chiron, and Dionysus were standing. 

"Please take a seat at the front," Frank said to Nico, who blankly stared at the stage before shuffling over to one of the empty chairs.

Frank watched him sit, taking note of where Princess Bianca was sitting before taking his post near the towering glass doors leading to the hall. Minutes later, the last of the Elites walked in. Hermes gestured to his cameramen and brought a mic to his lips.

"Your Highness." The Prince gave the Princess a slight bow. "Elites." He nodded to them. "We are gathered here today for an important announcement. The other night, a personal messenger of King Poseidon from Atlantis arrived."

Frank knew what was coming, but he had to brace himself anyway. 

"After a careful and thorough investigation, it was found that His Highness’ personal guard, an esteemed Two and a member of the King's Guard, Perseus Jackson, is the Second Prince of Atlantis!"

From his post at the back of the hall, Frank couldn't see how the Elites reacted. But he knew they must've felt the same way he did: shocked and disbelieving of the news. How could a guard, a former Seven, be a Prince ?

"His Majesty Poseidon has expressed his earnest desire to have his son back home in Atlantis. However, His Highness Percy has - "

Oh, my gods, Frank thought, did they actually call Jackson His Highness ?

" - requested that he be allowed to accompany us on the 6th Selection Challenge. The Royal Family has assented, in honor of the long and fruitful friendship the Kingdom has shared with Atlantis. I would also like to announce that we will have a few shows on the Olympus Royal Report with His Highness Percy as our guest, and I encourage you all to share with the Kingdom your experiences and run-ins with our Olympus-born and bred Atlantian prince. It will please His Majesty Poseidon to know that we have treated and will treat His Highness Percy the respect he accords."

Frank wanted to laugh. What did these Elites know about Jackson? What had they experienced with Jackson? Frank had been assigned to the Palace only recently, but he was confident he knew the former guard better than everyone in this room. 

What Frank didn't know, however, was why Jackson would ask to go on the Selection Challenge. The Jackson he knew would've already dove into his new role as Prince and ran off to his Kingdom. Maybe the former guard missed his home province? 

"The 6th Selection Challenge was supposed to be a surprise, like all the other Challenges." Mr D took the mic from Hermes. "But since there are special circumstances this time around, I’ll have to explain the Challenge. In a few days' time, you will take a trip around our beautiful Kingdom of Olympus. This is the perfect opportunity for Her Highness Bianca to learn about our culture, and for you Elites to introduce both the Prince Percy and Princess Bianca to your provinces."

Hermes and Mr D launched into a discussion on the specifics of the trip and "What kind of content are were looking for in these episodes?" Frank started to tune out the conversation. He wished Jackson was still next to him, trading jokes with him to pass the time easier. But Frank figured being a Prince was much better than being a guard. Then again, what did he know about being a Prince? It was probably the hardest job in the entire Kingdom.

Frank settled back into his spot near the glass doors and waited.

Chapter Text

The Olympian Times
Royal Family Gifts Former Selected to Favored Two!
Hermes of Mt Cyllene, Arcadia

The Kingdom’s Royal Family, in their eternal generosity, has Gifted Nancy Bobofit of Yancy Province to Jake Mason, a Favored Two.

Jake Mason is the firstborn son of General Hephaestus, Two. Her Royal Majesty the Queen Hera awarded Mason her Favor for his exemplary service to the Kingdom as a Royal Guard during the attack on the Palace of Olympus on June 3rd.

Nancy Bobofit, a former Four, is the daughter of Alecto Dodds, the founder of the Yancy Banking Group. She was eliminated from the Selection after the 3rd Selection Challenge. She Climbs two Numbers after the union.

Turn to page A-3 for the Royal Decree.

Hazel was disappointed in herself, for letting the TV take up more and more of her time. 

She couldn't help it. Every time she turned it on, she was reminded of how much she didn't know, of how isolated their little province was from the rest of the world. Most importantly, it was the only way she got news of her brother.

After having breakfast, she settled in front of the couch, guilt weighing down her shoulders. She told herself she had to watch today's episode of the Olympus Royal Report, because it was the first episode featuring Percy. Sure, there was an encore tonight and she had chores for the afternoon, but maybe she could watch now and do the chores later?

A short snippet of the kingdom's anthem started playing, and Hermes appeared onscreen with a secretive smile on his handsome face. He walked across the stage and put a mic to his mouth. "Olympian ladies and gentlemen, 'tis I, Hermes, your messenger, bringing you the show of the week, the show of all shows: The Olympus Royal Report!"

Hazel could probably recite that little spiel in her sleep now. 

"Last week, the Kingdom of Atlantis announced that they had found their lost Second Prince here - right here! - in our beautiful Kingdom. Before he returned home, we wanted to get to know His Royal Highness the Prince Perseus first, and in his grace, the Prince has agreed to appear on tonight's show!" 

An uproarious cheer erupted from the crowd.

"I know, I know, I'm excited, too!" He laughed, cheering with the crowd. "As a matter of fact, I was so excited and so curious that I had to ask around about our oh-so-courageous Prince. And what did I find out? Watch this."

The stage went dark, and the camera panned to the large screen taking up the entire wall behind the stage. A recording began playing, and Annabeth appeared onscreen, a polite smile on her face and her blonde curls falling down one shoulder. 

"He was there during my first date with His Highness Jason!" She said, her gray-blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "He kept making jokes, and His Highness Jason kept asking him to stop. He seems like such a carefree and playful person, but I'm sure he'll be a wonderful Prince."

As quickly as she appeared, Annabeth vanished from the screen, replaced by another Elite, Io.

"I always see him around with His Highness Jason, and I've always thought he was cute!" Io giggled. "And so brave, too! It's so unfair, isn't he just perfect?" 

Hazel tried to remember if the girl had done anything noteworthy during the Selection. She came up blank, and thought Io would probably be the first to go once Jason started the eliminations again. Hazel sighed. Sometimes, she felt like one of those Selection Analysts who were always on TV, trying to predict who would get eliminated when. 

A few more Elites - none of them Nico - appeared to speak about Percy, and when the little segment was over, the camera returned to the stage, where a velvet loveseat had been placed in the center. "Let's welcome the man of the hour, His Highness Percy!" Hermes boomed.  

The roar of the crowd was deafening, Hazel could tell that much even from behind a screen. She eagerly edged closer to the TV, the ratty, old couch squeaking under her. 

Percy ascended the stage in an outfit very much similar to what Jason always wore on TV and in magazines. He smiled and waved at the crowd, laughing at their enthusiasm, but Hazel thought he seemed a bit... Reserved.

"Your Highness!" Hermes cried at the sight of the newly-discovered Prince.

"It feels really, really weird when people call me that," Percy chuckled, sitting on the couch. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it, honestly."

"I daresay you will!" Hermes sat on the other end of the couch. "But since I'm trying to get in your good graces, I'll agree with you for now. Does that mean I can just call you Percy?" 

"Yep, sounds great!" Percy said to Hermes, before turning to the crowd. "You guys can all call me Percy as well!"

This prompted a few  long, long minutes of shrill, high-pitched shrieking. Hazel couldn't blame the crowd. Percy had always been naturally charming, with his down-to-earth personality, his easy smiles and his kind, green eyes. 

"So, Percy, you're not exactly some unknown figure shrouded in mystery. As a matter of fact, you're pretty famous." Hermes looked to the crowd for support, and they screamed their confirmation. "You defended Phthia from a band of rebels a few years ago, went to the Royal Palace as guard, and two years later, you were promoted to personal guard of His Royal Highness Jason. We thought we knew you, so imagine our surprise when we found out you were a Prince!"

"Well, imagine my surprise!" 

The crowd burst into laughter, and Hermes looked pleasantly taken aback. "You're a natural at this, Your Highness! - " 

"Please, it's just Percy."

" - But tell me more about how you're feeling. Still surprised? Just surprised?" 

"I was really, really overwhelmed," Percy sheepishly admitted. "Everything just changed so much and so fast, you know? For one, the maids started waiting on me. That's so weird to me, because I'm used to being the one doing all the waiting. I'm a guard, after all." 

Hermes nodded, urging Percy to keep going.

"I'm really grateful to have been found by my family. I grew up thinking I was an orphan. I mean, I consider everyone in Phthia family, but I guess it's different to know I have a dad who's been looking for me. Does that sound sappy?" Percy looked self-conscious about the confession, but when the camera panned to the audience, Hazel could see that everyone in the crowd was eating up every word. Even Jason didn't get this much of a reaction. 

"We understand that, Percy, and we know you must be excited to meet your family. So tell us, are you leaving us soon? Will you be immediately going to Atlantis?" 

"No, I'm not. I will be spending a few more weeks in the Kingdom to settle some matters - " 

A loud, exaggerated sigh of relief passed through the crowd. 

"And?" Hermes prodded, a gleam in his eyes. 

" - and to accompany the Elites on the next Selection Challenge, which is a tour of the entire Kingdom." He smiled. 

The crowd went wild. 

Hazel's mouth dropped open. 

Nico, Percy, and Jason were coming here? 

The second half of the episode was supposed to feature him, and although Jason agreed to guest starring, now he couldn't help but have second thoughts. 

It was his mother's idea to have him featured on the show. She said it was "to make the Prince Percy more comfortable" and "to emphasize their close friendship," but Jason knew what she was truly after. If he was a guest with Percy, it would paint him in a good light – the Princess Bianca competing for his hand on one side, and the Prince Percy seemingly scrambling for his approval on the other. 

Now, seconds away from ascending the stage, he wondered if he was making another mistake. 

He was terrified that Percy would finally see him for who he was: a One who couldn't visit his own friend in prison, but who could meet a fellow Prince for an entertainment show. He was a Prince before he was a friend. 

He should've talked to Percy, but every time he thought about it, something always held him back. After the caning, it was the fear that his visit would draw the attention of his parents to Percy. After the fall-out with Nico, it was the fear that he would see the same scorn and disappointment in Nico's eyes reflected in Percy's. After the announcement that Percy was a Prince, it was the fear of losing the only friend he had in the Palace. 

Before Jason could hesitate any further, Hermes rose to his feet and clapped. "Now, let's welcome our beloved Crown Prince, His Highness Jason!" 

Jason steeled himself, willing away all his doubts. His decision to go on-air couldn't have been a mistake, it was his mother's idea. She didn't make mistakes, like he did. 

It didn't matter anyway. There was no room for hesitation now. In front of the cameras, there was no room for fear or anything else but confidence and calm. Although Jason was a coward, Jason the Prince wasn't. Jason the Prince wasn't scared of losing one friend, because he had an entire Kingdom to protect. 

"Good afternoon, Olympians!" He walked on set and greeted the crowd with enthusiasm he didn't really feel. He sat on the loveseat placed there for him, and turned to Percy. "Your Highness."

"Don't call me that, Jason," Percy chuckled. "I never called you that, did I?" 

Percy hadn't thought well of Jason the past few days, but the weirdness of the whole situation, of him being on TV and Jason guest starring on the episode, pulled an easy chuckle from him. 

Still, the resentment for Jason weighed on his chest. He could remember the days and nights he spent in prison, wondering if his friend would ever come for him. 

Percy knew that when it came to Jason, the Kingdom came first. It was the Kingdom above all, always. Percy had never begrudged him that. He thought that he understood Jason, and the choices and sacrifices that came with being a Prince. But he never expected to be on the receiving end of that cold, calculating businesslike Jason. 

Now, he knew better. Jason was a Prince first and a Prince always. 

"Oh, first name basis!" Hermes remarked. "I don't think I know anyone aside from Their Majesties who calls His Highness Jason by just his name. It seems the rumors are true: you two are very close, aren't you?"

"You could say that, yeah," Percy nodded. 

"His Highness Percy has been my personal guard the past few years. We know each other well," Jason said. 

"Oh man, seriously, just call me Percy," Percy made a face at Jason, before turning to Hermes. "You know, when Jason calls me Your Highness, it just doesn't feel right. He's The ‘Your Highness’ to me."

"Mm, I get it," Hermes nodded. "To you, you're kinda like best friends, bosom buddies, you know? But what if - and this is just a what if, Percy - what if it's only you who thinks this way?" 

"What do you mean?" Percy raised an eyebrow. He slid his eyes over to Jason, who had a look of serene, patient understanding on his face. Briefly, Percy wondered if he should've taken more than a passing glance at the scripts they'd been shoving in his face since he got out of prison. 

"If you two are really very good friends, you should know things about each other," Hermes continued, the look of patience on his face now a mirror of Jason's. "Certain things, like maybe His Highness Jason knows why you want to join the 6th Section Challenge... And maybe you know who His Highness is favoring in the Selection."

At the prospect of gossip, a cheer rose through the crowd. Percy opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. Ever since the caning, the Selection had been the furthest thing from his mind. He didn't care who Jason was marrying, just that he could get Beckendorf and Beauregard to safety. Nico was the only Elite he still cared about. Fortunately, at the blank look on his face, Jason took over. 

"Percy wants to come with on the Challenge to go back to his hometown of Phthia. He used to talk about it often, the white sands, the sparkling green sea," Jason answered, the lies coming to him easily thanks to the script he'd been handed a few days before. "He never stopped missing it."

In truth, Jason realized that he could no longer understand Percy like he used to. 

He understood that Percy was excitable and carefree to the point of carelessness, which explained why the former guard had been unfazed about the attack on the Palace a few months back and the Tartarian Princess' arrival. He understood that Percy was emphatic and compassionate, which was why the latter tried to save Beckendorf and Silena from the caning.

But Jason couldn't understand why Percy would want to accompany them on the 6th Selection Challenge. The Percy he knew would've jumped on the very first plane to Atlantis and left without looking back.

Jason couldn't understand why Percy hadn't sought him out when the latter was freed from prison. Wasn't he Percy's best friend? Did Percy think less of him, because he was unable to visit the former guard during his imprisonment? But Jason had no choice . He had no time to visit Percy. He had to handle the departure of the Royal Family of Tartarus, had to negotiate with the media outlets on what footage of the caning could be released, had to tell Nico “this is part of life in the Palace, Nico - ” 

He had to be the Prince he was. 

Thankfully, Jason's guess hit the nail on the head. Percy nodded eagerly at his explanation and smiled widely at the audience, "You guys should see the beaches in Phthia. You won't ever want to leave, promise."

"Looks like His Highness Jason passes the first test!" Hermes declared. He looked at Percy expectantly. 

Percy swallowed. 

"I don't think it's fair to ask him about my preferences in the Selection. As I've said before, I have none." Jason took over again, his face a mask of practiced calm. "Instead, maybe we can ask which candidate he's cheering for?" 

"Ah, that's easy!" Percy's face brightened. "There's one I've been cheering on since the beginning!" 

"Oh?" Hermes scooted forward in his seat. "Do tell." 

"He's the candidate from Opus! Nico di Angelo."

Jason's breath caught in his throat.

"Ah, the daring young lad who kicked our beloved Prince during their date!" Hermes' eyes lit up. 

"Yes, that's him! I've known him since he was little," Percy nodded, oblivious to the pained look on Jason's face that disappeared in seconds. "Opus is right beside Phthia, see? It was just him and his older sister - hi, Hazel! - for the longest time, so I used to watch over him while she was working." 

Hermes said nothing, a silent encouragement for Percy to go on. 

"He's a bit shyer now, you know, more reserved. But he used to be this really cheeky, really outgoing kid. Followed me around everywhere!" Percy laughed loudly. "I missed his smiles when I went here to work as a guard, so I was really happy to see him again!" 

Hermes cooed.

"But that's not the only reason I want him to win. I know him, and I know he's simply the sweetest, nicest thing," Percy continued. "If I were Jason, I'd definitely, definitely pick him!"

Chapter Text

For the Elites, the announcement that there was another Prince in the Palace just meant that the Selection was on again, but this time with a different prize to be won. 

It definitely seemed that way, too, because it was followed by a flurry of activity: rehearsals, shootings, costume fittings, script-readings. For the first time in a while, the Elites were part of something again. They were invited to actively participate in everything. Hermes asked them how they knew the newly-discovered Prince. Had they noticed him around before? What did they know about him? It was the situation with Princess Bianca all over again, only with another person being the focus of the Selection.

But this time, the Elites were happy, because Percy presented another prize, another crown.

"Well, I know that he was called the Hero of Phthia. Because he saved their province from a band of rebels, right?" Drew answered, tapping her chin with a manicured finger. "He's honestly so brave, I can't even imagine how scary that must've been!"

"Same here, darling!" Hermes laughed, patting her arm. "It kind of makes sense that he was secretly a Prince, doesn't it?" 

"Oh my gods, it does!" Drew gleefully clapped her hands together. 

This was how it had been for Drew ever since the announcement. She gleefully answered every interview question, went to every dress-fitting, and prepared for every rehearsal. She remembered the days when the Selection focused solely on Princess Bianca and they were but mere afterthoughts, backdrops on a stage, and she couldn't bear that happening again. 

She and her family had too much riding on this. The Selection was their last chance at being accepted by the other high Numbers of Olympus. Although they were wealthy beyond belief, they were still Fives in the eyes of Olympian high society. They were Fives who had dirty, foreign blood. What good was money?

"Alright, thank you, dear, that should be fine," Hermes said after a few more questions. 

Drew bowed and stood up from the low-backed couch, watching as Katie Gardner took her place for her interview. 

If Drew had to guess, Katie would probably get kicked out next. She'd had no memorable moments in the entire Selection, nothing to make her mark on the viewers' minds, and according to the magazines Drew read, she was always near the bottom of the popularity polls. She didn't even have a powerful family backing her!

Drew would hurry along the poor girl's elimination, if she could. But she couldn't make a move with people still so suspicious of her, even if it had been weeks since the caning. They still thought she orchestrated the entire thing, but they were wrong. 

Drew did nothing but tip off the reporter to the room where she knew the two always met. 

It wasn't even like that incident at the start of the Selection, where she provoked Clarisse into a fight by insulting Lacy. This time, she didn't start anything. It wasn't her fault Silena fell in love with a guard and decided it was a good idea to keep on meeting with him. It wasn't her fault she was observant when it came to people. 

Her only fault was that she wanted to win. 

She couldn't win Jason anymore. That Prince was as good as married. But with the new Prince Percy - maybe, just maybe, she had a chance. 

The announcement that Percy was a Prince rekindled the flame in the Elites' eyes, but it left Nico reeling.

Nico thought that he knew Percy, thought Percy was the one thing in his life that would never change. Percy comforted him when Jason had been poisoned, kept him steady during Piper's party, gave him companionship when he couldn't turn to any of the other Selected. 

Percy had been his rock throughout all this, and then...

Nico was distraught. He saw it as his childhood friend being thrown into chaos, into a world he didn't want any part of. Being a guard was so very different from being a Prince, and Nico couldn't see Percy in the same position as Jason.

Nico couldn’t, even after watching Percy breeze through his interview with Hermes last night. Nico couldn’t, even after watching Percy juggle all the Elites and the camera crews vying for his attention every time he stepped out of his room. Nico couldn’t, because then he’d have to ask himself how he couldn’t adapt to the Palace, when Percy could. 

This morning, too, found Percy surrounded by Elites and reporters as he took his breakfast at the dining hall. He expertly entertained all their questions, but occasionally he would meet Nico’s eyes and beckon him closer. Nico would pretend not to notice, too intimidated by the glares of the Elites and the cameras, and too terrified of the conversation that would inevitably follow. Would Percy tell him the caning was “part of life in the Palace” too?

After breakfast, Percy was quickly steered away from the dining hall by some Nines. Nico stood to return to his room, but was stopped in his tracks by Leo and Calypso. Leo appeared tense, his eyes darting around the room, the smile on his face wide and forced. Beside him, Calypso was worrying her lower lip.

“We’re hanging out in the garden outside the kitchen,” He said, his voice unnecessarily loud. “Do you wanna come with?”

Leo looked like he was about to plunge all three of them into the Underworld, but to Nico, he was still the Eight’s very first friend in the Selection. Nico knew he shouldn’t, but he nodded anyway.

Leo was just leading them to the garden, so why did he feel like he was leading them to their deaths? He could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his nape. There was a churning in his gut, and he wondered if he was about to throw up. 

He cast his eyes about the garden, taking heart from the fact that it was empty. The closest guard in sight was the one by the kitchen door they exited from, out of hearing distance. This garden was always empty, because it was close to the kitchen and nobody wanted their clothes to smell of food. The kitchen was always noisy, too, because of the shouting of the chefs and the clanging of the pots. Leo wanted them to be seen, so as to not look suspicious, but he didn’t want to be heard. He chose this garden for that exact reason.

Calypso stopped before a stone bench, placed underneath a tree with low-hanging branches. She sat and pulled Nico down to sit beside her. Leo thought that was smart, at least they didn’t have to worry about Nico fainting and falling on his head. 

“Nico, we have something to tell you,” Calypso said, taking the boy’s hands in hers. 

Leo thought that that, too, was smart. If Calypso left the opening of this particular conversation to Leo, they’d be here all Selection. Leo wouldn’t know how to start this conversation. How do you ask a friend to risk his life for yours?

“Nico, I’m only telling you this because I know you, and I trust you,” Leo said. “Calypso and I are planning to run away.”

Leo didn’t think it was possible for the already ghostly pale Nico to even blanch, but he did. He snatched his hands from Calypso and stood, clutching at the front of Leo’s shirt with bony hands. 

“You can’t,” His voice was barely more than a gasp. “You saw - the caning - “

Leo gently shushed him. He didn’t need to be reminded. The events of the caning were still fresh in his mind, and whenever he closed his eyes, he could still see that guard and Silena kneeling on that wooden stage. In his nightmares, the figures on that stage were him and Calypso. 

"During the 6th Selection Challenge, we'll be travelling by trains and carriages, and we'll pass by many stations, towns, and ports. The camera crew won't be as organized as in the Palace, and all the security will be focused on the three royals. That's the perfect time for us to run.” Calypso explained. “We’ll steal away when we get to Phthia. That's the biggest, busiest port in the Kingdom. We’ll find a boat and go."

This was her plan. The first time she told Leo, he shook his head. No, no, no, He thought. There were too many what-ifs in the plan, too many variables. This wasn't how Leo planned. He wanted his plan clear-cut and well-lined like the blueprints for his machines. There could be no room for error. The slightest mistake could cost them their lives.

Leo’s first suggestion was to escape through the secret passages in the Palace, and his second was to run away on the Palace horses. But he couldn’t find those passages no matter how hard he tried, and the horses were kept under lock and key. He and Calypso had no other options left.

“What if there’s no boat?” Nico whispered.

“That’s why we’ll need your help.”

This was what Leo hated the most about Calypso’s plan. They had to rely on help. They had to endanger Nico.

“We know you’re close to His Highness Percy. He said so in last night’s interview. And he kept looking at you this morning,” Calypso continued. “You have to ask him if he has a boat. I’m sure he does, he was a Seven. You have to, for us.”

Nico’s wide, dark eyes were terrified, as if he could already see their caning.

“I’m sure he’d help! He helped you before, didn’t he? During the rebel attack at your province. And he tried to help Silena, too, at her caning! Did you see?”

She was begging now, which horrified Nico even more. Leo could see him shaking where he stood, but he couldn’t stop her. They needed Nico. They couldn’t stay in the Selection any longer. They could be discovered with the slightest suspicion and the smallest rumor. They couldn’t wait out the Selection either, because the Royal Family had a tradition of gifting the more popular non-chosen Selecteds to favored Families of the Kingdom.

They could no longer stay in the Palace, either. According to the rumor mill, Io had fallen out of the King’s favor because of her remarks on last night’s show about how “perfect” and “brave” Percy was. The King was reportedly looking for a new “favorite,” and Leo was deathly scared that Calypso would catch the King’s eye next.

“Nico, we just need you to ask him, please. If he says no, we’ll understand. We just have to know if he can help,” Leo placed a hand on Nico’s trembling shoulder, and gently drew Calypso from him. “Can you do that?”

Nico wanted to say no. He wanted to say that he couldn't. He couldn't help Leo and Calypso run away, because they would get caught. Once they got caught - and they would be caught -  they would be punished. And if they were punished the same way Silena and the guard were - 

Just remembering the caning made Nico feel sick. His throat was closing in on itself. He knew he looked just as unhinged as Calypso, both their hands white at the knuckles, hers from clutching at the front of his shirt and his from prying them off.

If he helped them, it would be like sentencing them to a caning with his own hands. And what if the Royal Family didn't sentence them to a caning, but an execution? What then? 

Nico couldn't help them. He wouldn't help them kill themselves.

"You'll get caught," Nico said.

"We might," Leo conceded. "But if we stay here, we definitely will be."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you about Drew, didn't I? How she made sure Silena and her guard would be caught?"

"That was just a rumor - "

"It's not," Calypso finally released Nico, and she immediately flitted to Leo's side. "She took them out of the competition, and we think she's trying to take us out next."

"Annabeth told me that she's been asking around about us," Leo continued. "And that she's been chatting up the other Elites and their maids. Creating talk. Trying to stir up more rumors." 

The backs of Nico's eyes burned in shame. He knew he'd done nothing the entire Selection but hide away in his room and pretend the competition had nothing to do with him. But how could he have not noticed how dangerous things had gotten for his friend? 

Leo was his very first friend in the Selection, and Nico remembered how the former stood up for him the day they met at the boat that took him from his province. Nico remembered all the times Leo had to drag him from his room to meals. Leo had always cared, and Nico didn't care enough. 

"We don't have much time," Leo said. 

Nico decided he wouldn't let Leo down. 

"Okay, I'll ask him," Nico said. Then he shook his head. "No, I'll... I'll get him to say yes. I'll convince Percy."

Chapter Text

Nico wanted to talk to Percy immediately after his conversation with Leo and Calypso, but the other two Elites reminded him that they couldn’t act so recklessly, and that they needed to be wary of all the eyes and ears around them. Nico nodded his understanding at Leo, and resolved to wait until Percy himself gave him the opportunity.

The opportunity came the next mealtime, when Percy, predictably, invited Nico to sit closer to him. The glares of the other Elites were still intimidating and so were the camera crews, but Nico mustered up the courage to walk over and sit right beside Percy, directly in the line of fire of both said Elites and camera crews. 

“Mr di Angelo!” One of the interviewers practically shrieked. “So good of you to come over! His Highness Percy here told us a lot of things about you two on Olympus Royal Report the other night! Did you catch the episode?”

“No,” Nico answered, wincing a little when the interviewer tutted at him in disapproval.

“What was so important you couldn’t come and watch it?” The interviewer asked, voice dripping in mock sincerity and curiosity. “I mean, you’re still an Elite and you live right here in the Palace, so don’t you think– “

“Hey, cut that out. If he wasn’t able to watch it, then he wasn’t able to watch it. Leave it, okay?” Percy was smiling, but his voice was sharp and brooked no argument.

Nico was grateful for Percy’s support, but he couldn’t let Percy speak for him. The interviewer was correct; he should’ve gone. Maybe if he did, if he had paid more attention to the competition, he would’ve known about Leo’s situation. He would’ve known how to help them himself, instead of all of them having to rely on Percy.

“I know I should’ve gone,” He said to the cameras, “But I… I wasn’t feeling well that day, so I couldn’t.”

“I didn’t know you were sick,” Percy turned to him with concerned eyes. “Do you feel better now?”

“... I think so?”

“No can do!” Percy stood and pulled Nico to his feet. He parted the crowd around them, and turned to the interviewer. “I’m taking him to the infirmary. He needs to rest, so I’m gonna be angry if I see you harassing him there, okay?”

The interviewer nodded blankly, and Nico idly wondered if they weren’t used to such a forceful Prince. Percy certainly was willful when compared to the calm, ceaselessly polite Jason. He had always been like that, even when he was still a fisherman and not a guard. He did what he wanted, said what he wanted, took what he wanted. Nico envied him for that, sometimes. 

They left the dining hall with stares following them the whole way out. Percy ignored them, so Nico did, too. The Prince was quiet the entire time, uncharacteristically so, and Nico was starting to worry if he would get the opening he needed to talk about Leo and Calypso. They then crossed the main hall, Percy nodding at all the guards they came across. 

Nico decided to take matters into his own hands. He thought of what to say first - and then remembered the other had just been imprisoned. How could he have forgotten?

“Percy, what happened to you? In prison, I mean. Did they hurt you?" Nico grabbed Percy’s arm so tightly the other stumbled when he tried to take a step forward.

"Nah, it was okay," Percy shrugged, but he didn’t draw back from Nico or remove the latter’s hand. Instead, he closed his eyes, as if reliving a memory. "I made a friend, actually. He said lots of strange things."

"What kind of strange things?"

"Like how Jason isn't fit to be King."

Nico gasped, eyes going as wide as saucers. His head whipped around, looking for any passers-by who might’ve overhead. When he looked back up at Percy, the Prince had already walked on ahead of him to the infirmary, indifferent to his own words. 

"Do you want to be caned next!" Nico pulled the Prince back and shoved him against the wall. His voice was a harsh, quiet whisper, but he could feel the rage boiling in his chest. Even after the caning and after being imprisoned, how could Percy be so careless? "That's treacherous talk! Forget getting caned, you could even be executed!"

"That's what I said, too, at first," Percy just laughed. "I told him he was crazy. This was the Four who poisoned Jason. Do you remember him? He was a Selected. His name was Chris."

Nico nodded. He remembered that Selection Challenge, where they had to cook for the Prince. He remembered seeing Jason collapsed on the kitchen floor, his lips pale, beads of sweat on his forehead. Nico had been so distraught, Percy had to hold him through a bout of tears. But that wasn’t what was important right now.

“Percy, listen to me, you can’t say things like that.,” Nico’s hands were trembling as he gripped Percy’s shoulders, searching the other’s eyes for any indication he was taking the warning seriously. “Please listen. If they hear you, if you were caned - I - I can’t - “

"Shh, I get it, I get it, I'm sorry, don't cry, don't think about it anymore," Percy's thumbs had found their way to Nico's cheekbones, wiping away the hot tears that fell from his closed eyes. 

Nico knew he had to stop crying. He was here to help Leo and Calypso, and to ask Percy what happened during his imprisonment. He wasn't the one who needed comforting; it was Leo and Calypso, whose lives were in danger, and Percy, who had just had his life turned upside-down. But here he was anyway, choking on his sobs as he struggled to push Percy away from him. They couldn't be seen like this. It was too dangerous, there were too many eyes -

"You shouldn't have had to watch something like that. That caning shouldn't have happened. Someone should've stopped it," Percy's voice was soft and low, soothing away the tension in Nico's nerves. "And even if it couldn't have been avoided, Jason should've made sure you guys wouldn't have to watch that. I'm sorry you had to see that."

Nico wanted to collapse into Percy's arms at those words. Percy's words lifted a weight Nico didn't know he was carrying off his shoulders. Jason had said 'this is how things are,' but Percy knew how things were, too, and he thought the caning was wrong.

Nico shook his head, trying to tell Percy that he didn't have to say sorry. It wasn't his fault, and Nico saw how he tried to stop it. No words would come from his hoarse throat, but he knew at that moment that Percy would help Leo and Calypso. 

Nico looked up at Percy. The Prince was staring off deeper into the hallway, and Nico followed his gaze. By the door to the infirmary was a guard, his head turned towards them. 

Nico's heart leapt to his throat. 

Had they been seen? Was this it? Nico remembered the glare of the sun the day of the caning, the wooden posts flecked with blood - He couldn't breathe - 

"Zhang!" Percy called to the guard, wrapping an arm around Nico's shoulders and pulling him closer. Nico struggled in his hold, but Percy paid him no mind. "You're assigned to the infirmary today?" 

"Yes, Your Highness." The guard looked familiar, but Nico couldn't remembered how they'd met. Nico averted his eyes, too wary of the questioning and disapproving glances the guard he sent Percy's way. 

"It's just Percy," Percy flippantly waved a hand, as if trying to wave away his title as well. "Nico doesn't feel well, so I thought I'd make sure he gets some rest in the infirmary."

"The medic isn't in, Your Highness." 

"That's fine. He can just rest until the medic gets back." Percy made for the door, opening it against Zhang's protests and ushering Nico inside. 

"I don't think that's advisable, Your Highness. The Elites cannot be alone and unsupervised in the company of- " 

"Aren't you right there? I want to rest, too. I'm tired, too, you know. Those reporters have way too much energy. I was a Seven, and I'm used to manual labor, but they make me so fucking tired, gods." 

The guard finally cracked. He let out a big sigh and rubbed his eyes. "Jackson, man, c'mon, you know I don't make the rules. He - " The guard pointed at Nico. " - can't be alone with you. What are you doing, asking for trouble like this? Didn't you just become a Prince?"

"That I did!" Percy's eyes glinted mischievously. "And as Prince Percy of Atlantis, I order you to leave us alone!"

"Aw, man, fine, but you gotta scram before the medic arrives. Take the side exit when I knock, okay?" The guard said, finally closing the door.

"That guard - is he your friend? Won't he report us?" Nico asked, glancing around the sparsely-decorated infirmary.

"That's Zhang. He's a good guy. He's covered for me before, so don't worry and get some rest," Percy dragged him by the wrist to a cot with pristine white sheets.

Nico watched him sit on the edge of the adjacent cot, yawning into his palm. He had to ask now. 

"Percy, I have some friends who need your help." Nico didn't wait for Percy to respond, scared he'd lose his nerve. "They're like... Silena and her guard... And they think they'll be discovered soon. They need your help to escape. They need a boat, so they can sail away from Olympus when we arrive at Phthia for the next Selection Challenge. Can you... No, will you help them?"

A knock came at the door. 

Percy stood, his green eyes unreadable. He walked over to Nico and gently pushed him down onto the cot. "I will," He said, his voice so faint it could’ve gotten lost in the rustling of curtains in the infirmary. “What are their names?”

“Leo Valdez and Calypso,” Nico answered in a single breath. He knew he was taking a huge risk by revealing their names and their plan to elope, but he trusted Percy wholeheartedly. He trusted Percy to do the right thing. To save all of them.

"Okay. Don't talk about this anymore. To anyone. I'll talk to this Leo myself. Now rest."

He left the infirmary through a side exit Nico didn't know existed. The door opened then, and in stepped Will. 

"I was looking for the medic," He said.

"Me too," Nico said. He rolled over in his cot, his back to the newcomer to hide the relieved smile on his lips. Percy had agreed. He said yes. Leo and Calypso were going to be okay and safe. And Nico was able to help! 

"I'll wait here too, then," Will said, and Nico heard the rustling of the sheets as the other sat on the cot Percy had left.

Nico pulled the covers up to his chin. Jason could eliminate him tomorrow, and he would still consider himself a winner.

He closed his eyes. 

It was going to be okay now. 

Chapter Text

Percy sought out Leo Valdez and Calypso the very next day. Time wasn't on their side, and he needed the two prepared as soon as possible. He couldn't ask anybody where they were, so he wandered around the Palace, searching all the rooms he knew the Elites were permitted to enter. He wondered what he would say to them when he found them. 

Should he ask them if they knew what they were getting into?

They would be making an enemy out of the entire Kingdom. The Selected were considered property of the Royal Family, first and foremost. After the Selection, those who were eliminated were usually married off by the Family, as gifts of goodwill to other high Numbers. It was the Family's way of getting the full value of their investment – after all, they clothed and fed and educated the Selected, and Selected often became popular during the Selection. Just recently, former Selected Nancy Bobofit was married to a guard named Mason.

Should he tell them that they weren’t alone? That there were others before them who’ve wanted to leave the Selection? They would probably be surprised, because the media reported every exit as an elimination. Percy remembered how a few Selected wanted to leave after the attack on the Palace. Jason eliminated them rather quickly, but no media outlet ever mentioned that they asked to leave. That was because a voluntary exit would reflect badly on Jason. It would mean the Selected had found him an undesirable partner, and by extension, an unfit King. 

Should he discourage them? Should he tell them they couldn’t expect the leniency given to Beckendorf and Beauregard? In that instance, the Crown considered the betrayal a result of Beckendorf stealing what was the Crown's. They considered Beauregard a victim. But if word got out that two Elites ran away together, it would paint a picture of Jason being so undesirable, they chose one another. It would be downright catastrophic for Jason’s princeship. 

Even as Percy thought this, his mind raced to figure out how the Two would elope, and elope successfully.

Because if they failed, it would mean their deaths. 

Leo didn't know what Nico did, but by the end of the week, Percy had already sought him out. His voice serious and his eyes were determined as he said, "I'll help you." 

He, Percy, and Calypso met to discuss their plan, which was almost scary in its simplicity: Leo and Calypso would participate in the Challenge, like they always had, and Percy would dutifully play the role of Jason's friend. They would wait until they reached Phthia, where Percy's sailor friends would sail with them to Atlantis. There, they would be free.

"I don't understand how we'll escape from Phthia." Calypso had voiced her worries. "It's not like the guards will suddenly go blind, will they?"

"I know every alleyway in Phthia. And it's a port province; ships come and go all the time. A single boat sailing off will just be business as usual." Percy answered, trying his best to reassure her.

"But won't they ban all travel to and from the province on account of His Highness' arrival?"

"That's where me being a Prince comes in handy!" Percy declared. "I'll request to arrive in Phthia earlier than Jason, so you'll escape while they're busy preparing for him and before they close off the province."

"What if they say no to your request?"

Percy laughed. "You think they'll say no to a Prince?"

That quieted Calypso for a moment, but soon she piped up again with another question. "What should we do for now?"

"For now, just participate properly in the Selection so nobody gets suspicious," Percy looked at both of them. "Sell off your valuables one by one, so you have money when you get to Atlantis. And try to learn a trade, because your Numbers won't mean anything when you get there. Study Atlantian culture by yourselves, but do it discreetly. If you borrow books from the library, borrow books about other cultures as well."

"Why can't you teach us?"

"Because from now on, we can't be seen in each other's company," Percy said. "We'll do the usual greetings and pleasantries, but I won't go out of my way to talk to you guys. Neither should you talk to me."

"You're surprisingly thorough," Leo remarked, and regretted his words almost instantly. What was he doing antagonizing their savior? "What I mean is, I-I saw you at Piper's party. You were eating the snacks for the guests, and playing around with the other guards. At the Grand Ball for the Tartarian Princess, too. You left your post and disappeared for hours."

Percy cringed at the reminders of his truancy, but he still managed a joke. "You were watching me so closely. Should Calypso be worried?"

Leo blanched at the insinuation. "We were watching all the guards, because we'd been planning to elope. We, as in me and Calypso."

Percy shrugged. "I didn't become the personal guard of a member of the Royal Family by accident, you know. I can be thorough when I want to be."

They sat in silence for a while, with Percy opening his mouth and closing it just as fast. Judging from the frown on his lips and the resigned droop of his shoulders, Leo could guess what it was he wanted to say: that it was dangerous, that they would be caned - or killed - if they were caught. But Leo and Calypso already knew the stakes. They knew what they were risking. They knew the price they had to pay in blood if they were unlucky.

There was nothing left to say, so Leo kept his mouth shut. 

Percy looked at him, sighed, and did the same.

Chapter Text

The beginning of the 6th Selection Challenge was marked by a departure in more ways than one.

Before he and the rest of his entourage were to leave the Palace, Jason would first have to eliminate one of the Elites by stopping them from getting into one of the departing carriages. It was an unnecessarily cruel way to eliminate someone, and unsurprisingly, his mother's idea. Still, Jason conceded, too tired to fight his mother on anything that had to do with the Selection. He'd already given up on the competition. It no longer mattered to him who they married him off to. 

What mattered to him was his Kingdom and his people, and what they needed was to see that he was still the prize of the Selection, that it was he who was their Prince. 

So he descended the grand staircase leading to the Palace driveway, determined to do what he had to. He respectfully led every Elite by the hand to their respective carriages, not flinching even as he took Nico's hand. He waited until it was Zöe's hand in his, and spun her around to face him. 

"Thank you for the pleasure of your company, but I'm afraid our time together has come to an end. ," He recited the sad, little speech that had been written for him and even managed a sad, little smile.

Zöe sobbed and drew back her hand like she'd been burned. Jason had prepared himself for an outburst, but Zöe went with dignity. She bowed to the cameras and made her way back to the Palace, presumably to gather her things before leaving.

Jason walked to his carriage without looking back.

Their first destination was Aphrodisia.

Aphrodisia - the City of Love.

Or so Leo had called it this morning as he escorted Nico to one of the ostentatiously decorated horse-drawn carriages lined along the Palace driveway, all of them emblazoned with the insignia of the Kingdom of Olympus. Nico made himself comfortable on the leather seats, waiting for his companion to hop inside, but Leo never left the entryway.

"I'm gonna ride with Annabeth," He said quietly, head turned towards Nico even though his eyes were watching the people milling about the driveway.

"What?" Nico lurched out his seat. "Why?"

"We talked to your... Friend . We have a plan." Gently, Leo pushed Nico back onto the seats. "And I can't be seen with you. After - after we're gone, the Palace will start asking questions. And they'll begin with the people we were close to. I can't let that be you, Nico."

Nico gripped the leather seats with white-knuckled fists. He wanted to argue with Leo, tell the other that he had made up his mind to help, that he had been in danger since the day in the garden by the kitchen, when Leo asked him to reach out to Percy. But he didn't want to be an additional burden on Leo's already drooping shoulders. He didn't want to add to Leo's list of worries, not when he hadn't seen the other smile since that day in the garden. If Leo thought keeping his distance would work, then Nico would keep his distance. 

Still, that didn't mean Nico would give up trying to help. 

"Is there something I can do, even if we're not together?" He asked.

"Yeah, actually, there is," Leo replied, with a rare upward quirk of his lips. "But you won't like it." 

"What is it?" 

"Participate in the Selection as actively as you can. The more eyes on you, the less eyes on us." 

Nico nodded. He could do that. Back when he was still known as the Prince's favorite, Hermes used to force him into many an interview. Nico would stand in front of those cameras again, if it meant ensuring Leo and Calypso's survival. 

Leo ruffled his hair, a fond look on his face, and walked towards Annabeth's carriage. 

After half a day of riding, Aphrodisia finally pulled into view in all its sparkling, dazzling glory. 

Through the windows of the carriage, Nico squinted at the towering buildings standing side by side and blocking out the sun, and at the large steel-mounted posters - billboards, Nico corrected himself, they were called billboards - announcing their arrival. The largest one read:

APHRODISIA 
CITY OF LOVE
HOME OF FIVES

Half of these billboards were advertisements for products Nico had never seen before - a girdle that would make its wearer irresistible to anyone, makeup and eyeliner that claimed to be magic. The other half were blow-ups of Piper, with her lustrous brown hair and bright eyes and the words “WELCOME HOME PIPER” in big, pink letters. 

"Oh my, they're welcoming only Piper," Io giggled from her seat across Nico in the carriage. 

"Why wouldn't they? Isn't she the Selected from Aphrodisia?" Katie asked. 

"Drew's from Aphrodisia too, you know." Io wagged a finger at the other Elite. "But Mommy and Daddy didn't think she stood a chance against all the other Fives, so they bought her a house in some far-flung province nobody's heard of and had her apply from there."

"Is that allowed?" 

Io started explaining the rules for eligibility in the Selection as the carriage pulled to a stop. Attendants opened the door, and Nico alighted in front of a building outfitted in gold, with tall stone pillars and fake palm trees. 

"Welcome to the Lotus Hotel and Casino," The attendant greeted as he waved them over to the entrance. "You'll never want to leave." 

The glass doors parted before him automatically, and Nico stepped into the lobby, an open space of pale ice blue with strips of verdant greenery running down the middle. 

"Alright, gather ‘round." Hermes came in after Nico, clapping loudly to call everyone’s attention. He stood in the middle of the lobby and was immediately surrounded by the Elites. "We'll be taking photos around the city until our welcome dinner tonight, hosted by Aphrodisia mayor Tristan McLean. For our dinner, we will be entertained by the Kingdom's hottest Fives, including our very own Piper - " 

Piper bowed deeply and waved both hands at the cameras. 

" - Afterwards, we will have a Selection Challenge for you to showcase your talents! Remember, this is Aphrodisia, Home of Fives. Don’t disappoint. That's it! Now, follow your assigned assistants and quickly go to your rooms to change."

The Elites were in different shades of pink for their Aphrodisia photoshoot. 

Nico's outfit consisted of a pastel pink knitted sweater that hung past his hips and a pair of form-fitting black pants that hugged them way too tightly. He leaned against the golden walls of the Lotus building - their first location - and tried to relax as the cameras surrounding him snapped away. A good distance away, Drew's photographer was singing her praises, loudly enough that Nico could barely hear the conversations happening around him.

"A performance at a dinner hosted by superstar Tristan McLean in the heart of the Home of Fives itself! Can you believe it? Everyone will be watching and rewatching for at least a week!" Io was engaged in an animated conversation with Katie, gesturing wildly with her hands. In the afternoon sun, her short, strapless hot pink dress was almost orange.

'Watching and rewatching, huh? And for at least a week, too.' Nico's mind was racing. He couldn’t just perform. He needed to stand out. He remembered Leo’s words: the more eyes on him, the better. If he could keep those eyes on him for an entire week, then he could help Leo and Calypso in his own way. 

"If you want to live the glamorous life of a Five, it's the perfect time to show off and find a Number sponsor! At least, even if you don't win His Highness, you can still climb to a Five!" Io continued. "And let's face it. What are the chances of us winning against Her Highness Bianca? Absolutely zero."

What can he do for the Challenge? Play an instrument? No, he couldn't play an instrument, because he was only comfortable with his own instruments and he left those in Opus. 

"You know, some lower Numbers spend their lives at their local talent shows waiting to be sponsored, but they never are. Why? Because the Fives with money and influence to sponsor aren't in your backwater province!" Io placed a hand on Katie's shoulder. "But here in Aphrodisia? In the Home of Fives? You'll have every sponsor watching." 

Should he sing? Dance? He hadn't practiced his singing and dancing ever since he left the province. What songs did he even have memorized? And if he were to dance, he needed a routine he knew like the back of his hand. He didn't have much time to practice. 

"I'm performing a short play for the Selection Challenge," Io finally said. "You wanna be my partner?" 

Nico wrapped up his shoot as Katie refused, stammering excuses that Nico couldn’t hear. Io frowned, already looking around the venue, no doubt searching for someone to make her partner. 

"I'm going to win this Challenge. You wanna be my partner?" She marched up to Nico, her hands on her hips. "I'm already a Three, but life in the Temple doesn't suit me. I'd rather be a Five and get to play dress-up everyday. I'm sure you'd rather be a Five than an Eight, too." 

"I can't act," Nico said. 

"Oh," Io was visibly frustrated now. "Well, Annabeth is reciting some poem. So you can do that, I guess. What can you do, anyway?" 

"I can sing and dance, a little bit," Nico answered. "I don't know which to do." 

"What are you talking about? This is your chance to get sponsored! You need to stand out! You need to pull out all the stops!" Like earlier in the carriage, Io wagged a finger at him. "Do both!" 

Nico startled.

That’s right, he could do both.

Chapter Text

While the Elites were off on their photoshoot, unwittingly boosting the province's tourism, Jason remained at the Lotus Hotel ballroom, preparing himself for the first of what he knew would be an endless number of annoying yet necessary welcome dinners. 

The ballroom was small, compared to the Grand Ballroom back at the Palace, but it was gorgeous, with its high ceilings beautifully appointed with crystal chandeliers and its floor-to-ceiling windows draped with luxurious, heavy fabric. Unfortunately, the space was already teeming with reporters and cameramen and other guests.

Jason had resigned himself to letting the Selection pass him by, to letting Hera or Hermes or whoever dictate how it went for him. But he didn't want this time to go to waste. He was the Prince. He wanted to use this trip to personally connect with the provincial mayors, ask them what they thought of his push for a Kingdom-wide transportation system, if they would support his all-Number taxation reforms. 

Some people looked at him and saw only the crown. Some looked at him and forgot there was a crown attached. Whoever his parents picked, Jason could only hope they knew he had no choice but be both. 

"Why aren't you with the Elites at their photoshoot?" One reporter asked in a scream, as he pushed his way to the table where Jason was seated. 

Because I don't want to be there, Jason thought. "I have other more pressing matters to discuss with Mayor Tristan," He said instead, flashing his Department of Public Relations-approved smile. 

Jason's security detail herded the reporter away. The mayor took his seat beside Jason and apologized for the number of rowdy broadcasters and photographers. This was the norm for Aphrodisia, he explained. Jason graciously accepted his apology and assured him he'd had worse, eager to build rapport with the mayor. He only had a few hours before the Elites arrived and the dinner officially began. 

"What do you think about our Piper?" Mayor Tristan then asked. 

Jason held back a groan. "She's very charming," He said. "And she knows how to handle crowds." Jason didn't know if she did, but she was a Five so he assumed she was trained for that. 

"She's the pride of Aphrodisia," The mayor continued, to Jason's chagrin. "And she's been leading the popularity polls for a while now." 

Jason saw his opening. "If we had a Kingdom-wide, Palace-subsidized mail delivery service, more Olympians would be able to vote in the popularity polls." 

It was the mayor's turn to frown. Jason took it as a win. 

The Aphrodisia photoshoot was over before Nico could steel himself for his impending performance. He had decided to perform a number he learned as a child: the story of Orpheus, a Five so legendary it was said that even former King Kronos wept at the sound of his lyre, and who braved the international prison called the Underworld to rescue his beloved wife. Truthfully, the story didn't matter to Nico. All he cared about was that it was the most impressive piece he had memorized. 

He squirmed in his seat at the welcome dinner, all the big and fancy speeches going right over his head. In the middle of Mayor Tristan's welcome address, Io asked him if the man was related to Piper. Nico just shrugged, reciting the verses in Orpheus' song on longing and lost love quietly under his breath. 

Nico only spared the stage a glance when it was Jason's turn to talk.

He was dressed even more extravagantly tonight, his figure tall and striking in his cream double-breasted dinner suit and navy blue fur-lined cloak. With all the spotlights shining down on the stage, it hurt Nico to even look at him. So Nico didn’t.

He looked down at his lap, seeing nothing. 

After a while, Jason returned to his table, which seated the dinner's most important attendees: Percy, Her Highness Bianca, the mayor, and Aphrodisia’s representative Piper. Nico was seated with the rest of the Elites, whose number had fallen to just eleven now, and the other tables were occupied by guests Nico didn't know. Maybe these were the sponsors Io was talking about. 

At some unseen cue, Piper rose from her seat, and the sounds of violins filled the ballroom. Nico's heart thumped wildly in his chest as Piper ascended the stage. She was beginning her performance. 

Soon, it would be his turn. 

Jason clapped politely at all the performances, pasting a bland, vaguely interested smile on his face for the cameras. He made sure to compliment Piper's dress and choice of song to the mayor, although he barely listened to any of the performances. He stared at the stage, unseeing, as Annabeth recited her poem and exited. 

"What do you think about Ms Chase's poem?" A reporter materialized out of thin air and asked him.

"Very thought-provoking," Jason answered with a straight face. 

Nico stood from his seat. 

Jason's eyes widened, just a fraction. 

When he first heard about the Challenge, he had felt a quickening of his pulse. He wondered if Nico would sing. He'd always thought the other had a lovely voice. Or maybe he would dance? He certainly had the physique of a dancer. 

But at the memory of the night of the caning, Jason had to will his excitement away. 

What Nico performed wasn't any of his business. It was the business of Hera and Hermes and the public who watched the Selection. He schooled his expression into its normal, carefully blank appearance and watched as Nico made his way to the stage in long, graceful strides. He was wearing a plain cashmere-blend with exaggerated bell sleeves in the same cream color as Jason's dinner suit. 

The first few notes of a melancholy piano began to play. The melody was hauntingly lonely, yet it felt familiar. Nico lifted a hand to the air, as if reaching for the sky, and, slowly swaying his hips, began to sing. 

Jason recognized the song. It was the story of Orpheus who was beloved by the world, and who loved so much and so strongly he threw away his life to rescue his lover from the Underworld. Nico sang his story passionately, like it was his own love that had been lost. He held the audience captive, enthralled, as he brought them to sighs and gasps and stunned silence with every flick of his delicate wrists. 

Jason could only stay seated, wondering if he could've been the hero in a song like that. If he could've done the same thing as Orpheus. But he wasn't brave. He wasn't fearless. He thought too much, and cared too much about what everyone else had to say. He loved strongly, but what he loved was his Kingdom, his people. 

He wondered if Nico knew how the rest of that story played out. Maybe not. The Fives who wrote the Song of Orpheus left out the part where Orpheus was stripped of his Number and imprisoned. Fives were obsessed with romance and happy-ever-after, but they never bothered with what happened after the end. 

Jasom bothered with what happened after the end. Where some only saw the caning, Jason saw to what happened after. After the caning, after that night, he had, as planned, sent Silena and Beckendorf away to be taken care of at the Temple of Mother Earth. If Nico knew Jason had done that, would it have changed his mind about them? Maybe. Maybe not. It no longer mattered, anyway. 

Jason didn't need to be an Orpheus. He needed someone who could see after the end, like he did. Nico wasn't that person. 

All Jason could do for Nico now was make his stay at the Selection as pleasant as could be, keep him safe, keep him from anything else like the caning. At least, until Hera and Hermes and whoever decided to eliminate him. Nico deserved that much. 

The song came to an end and Nico bowed to thunderous applause. 

"Any comments on Mr di Angelo's performance?" The reporter from earlier asked Jason, eyes fixed on the notepad in his hand. 

Jason may have been mistaken when he thought Nico was the one, but he always knew he was right about one thing. 

"He's lovely." 

Chapter Text

Nico returned to his seat, feeling like Orpheus storming the Underworld: brave in the face of his desperation. He flushed at the wild applause following his song, and barely heard the performance after his. He couldn't believe how liberating it had felt to sing with abandon, to let every emotion he had bottled up inside him be felt. 

"I knew you had it in you," Io said, beaming as she and Calypso took to the stage. 

Leo didn't say anything, but he took Nico's hand and squeezed it once, tightly, in silent congratulations. 

After all the performances, Hermes announced that the judges for this Challenge were the dinner guests, and that the winner would be declared after the dance. Nico didn't know how to dance, so he remained seated even as the orchestra began to play through the first song. However, he was soon beset on all sides by reporters. 

"Where did you learn to sing like that?" One of them asked. "Aren't you an Eight?" 

"Are you looking for a sponsor?" Asked another. 

Normally, Nico would shy away and try to escape their mics and cameras, but today, he had them right where he wanted them: away from Leo and Calypso. 

"My mother taught me," He answered the first reporter, his words slow and halting. He didn't know how much of his life he wanted to share with these strangers and the world. "She was a Five." 

"What was her name?" 

Nico chose not to respond to that. Instead, he turned to the second reporter. "I'm not looking for a sponsor. I don't know how any of that works." 

None of them offered to explain it to him, but they continued asking him questions. 

"After the Selection, do you want to be a Five?" 

"No, I - I want to go home," Nico choked a little bit on his words. 

The reporters must have seen something on his face at the mention of home, because they latched onto the topic with fervor. 

"Who's waiting for you at home?" A new reporter asked. "Home is Opus, isn't it?" 

"It is. My sister - my sister Hazel. She's waiting. She's - " Nico paused, then stopped. He didn’t want to share his memories of Hazel with these people. He knew he was in danger, but Hazel didn’t have to be. He was already in their sights - wasn’t that enough? How much more of him did they want?

"What’s wrong? Tell us about her!" The reporter placed a hand on Nico's arm. His grip was bruising, unkind, and Nico winced as he tried to pull his arm away. 

But the offending hand was gone as soon as it appeared. Nico watched as another hand - bigger, familiar - lifted the one on his arm. Jason stepped into view then, a rare, thunderous frown on his face. The reporters wilted at the sight of that frown and they fell away one by one, making excuses as they went, eventually leaving just Jason and Nico at the table. 

“Are you alright?” Jason asked, in that quiet way of his. His hand stayed on Nico’s arm, his touch light and hesitant as he gently, gently inspected it for bruises.

“I’m okay,” Nico assured the other.

Jason released Nico’s arm and promptly drew away. Without another word, he turned around and walked back to the dance floor. Nico averted his eyes. He didn't want to see who Jason would return to. He couldn't care about that, not when he needed to focus on Leo and Calypso. 

That's right, he had to focus. He still didn't know anything about Percy's plan. 

He cast his eyes about the ballroom, searching for Percy. He found the familiar head of dark, wavy hair by the buffet table, staring intently at the stretch of food. Nico wasn't sure how to approach him discreetly, wary of all the eyes and ears in the ballroom. He headed for the buffet table anyway, pretending he was interested in the large, crystal bowl of pink punch, and waited for Percy to notice him. 

He waited a good while, the orchestra playing through several songs, before Percy blinked and looked up from the cuts of meat before him. He swept his head to the side, locking eyes with Nico. 

"I haven't heard you sing in a while," He said, smiling that easy smile as if he hadn't been giving himself gray hairs by the buffet table. 

“What are you thinking?” Nico asked, clearing his throat carefully. He hoped Percy understood what he meant. How are Leo and Calypso doing? What's the plan? How can I help? 

"I'm thinking…" Percy ran his sea-green eyes over the ballroom. "I'm thinking we should dance."

"You dance ?" 

"No, but how hard can it be?" 

Percy grinned at him and grabbed him by the elbow, leading him to the center of the ballroom. They walked around the other dancers on the floor, until they reached a spot isolated from everyone else. There, Percy took Nico's hand and placed his other hand on Nico's waist. 

"Don't worry, I've seen Jason dance a hundred times before." Percy stepped back, pulling Nico forward. "Yes, just like that. Just follow my lead." He stepped to the side next, drawing Nico with him, then forward. They repeated the steps over and over, until Nico had stopped looking at Percy's feet. "Look at that! You're doing well."

"What are we doing?" Nico finally asked, exasperated.

"The next destination is Phthia."

Nico blanched and tripped over Percy's feet. 

Percy easily caught him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him upwards. For a moment, Nico found himself pressed against Percy's chest, Percy's lips brushing his ear as he whispered, "Careful." Nico remembered a time when being pressed against Percy like this would've made his heart beat out of his chest. But today, his heart was pounding for a different reason. 

He's scared someone will see through him the way they saw through Silena. 

He pulled back from Percy, putting some distance between their bodies as he looked around the room. Had anyone been paying close attention to them? Nico's hands were shaking now, and he paused when Percy held them tighter. He didn't hear the orchestra switch to slower songs, but he felt Percy slide an arm around him, his other hand moving up to the back of Nico's head. 

"Calm down," Percy whispered again. "Put your arms around my neck." 

Nico didn't move, stunned by the sudden intimacy. What was Percy doing? How could he do this - whatever this was - in full view of everyone? Nico struggled in the former guard's embrace, before realizing that everyone else on the floor had done the same. In the distance, he could see Piper dancing with the Mayor, and beside them Io was dancing with an unfamiliar man. 

He put his arms around Percy's neck and rested his chin on the former guard's shoulder. 

"I told you I knew how to dance," Percy hummed. 

With one hand at the small of his back and another tangled in the hair at his nape, Nico had never felt so much of Percy before. If he turned his head to the side just the slightest, he would have his nose buried in the crook of Percy's neck. There was a time when this was everything Nico had wanted. 

"Why are we dancing?" He rested his cheek on Percy's shoulder instead, feeling tired all of a sudden. 

"Because no one can hear us talking here, and they can't read my lips either if we're dancing." 

"Oh," Nico hadn't thought of that. 

"The truth is, it's not just Valdez and Calypso I'm worried about. Before you talked to me about their plan, I was already looking for Beauregard and Beckendorf."

At the mention of those names, Nico stiffened. Beckendorf and Silena. They were the ones who had been caned under that hot midday sun. The crowd had been jeering, their voices so loud Nico's couldn't breathe - 

"You're alright, that's over now, see, you're alright," Percy was murmuring into his hair, his hand rubbing soothing circles into Nico's back as they swayed gently from side to side. “Sorry I reminded you of… that .” 

“It’s fine, I just… needed a moment. What were you saying?” Nico tucked his face into the crook of Percy’s neck, inhaling the scent of the sea breeze and taking comfort the only way he knew how. Percy was on his side, and Percy said he was going to fix it. It was going to be fine.

“I was looking for Beck - for them. I thought I could help them, now that I’m a Prince. But I couldn’t find them anywhere. Not in the Palace, not in the capital. It’s like they just disappeared . When Hermes told me about this Challenge, I thought I could look for them in the other Provinces. Maybe smuggle them out of the Kingdom, too.”

Nico didn’t know what to say, so he nodded to show Percy he was listening, his cheek rubbing against the Prince’s shoulder.

“Then, you told me about Valdez and Calypso and I thought, hey, two birds with one stone , you know? But we’re headed for Phthia next, and I still haven’t found any trace of Beck - of, um, them. "

"What are we going to do?" 

"We'll proceed as planned. I have to send Valdez and Calypso away at Phthia. They may not get another chance. I’ll still search for them after, but right now Valdez and Calypso are my priority.”

“How about me? What should I do?” 

“Just continue participating in the Selection. You’re doing well, you know? I mean it. Your voice is amazing.”

Nico nodded again, embarrassed now. He was glad no one could see him properly, pressed against Percy’s shoulder as he was, because he was sure his face had gone bright red.  

“If people are looking at you, they won’t be looking at me or Valdez or Calypso. You’re doing more than you think, so don’t do anything reckless, alright?”

“Aren’t you the one who’s always being reckless?” Nico chuckled. When he raised his head and looked up, Percy was looking down on him. Their faces were so close Nico could feel Percy’s breath on his lips, could see the moment Percy broke out into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he grinned at Nico. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve.

“No, I’m not,” He said.  

Nico felt like he was dreaming. If Nico were being honest to himself, the entire night had felt like a dream. From his performance to the thundering applause he received, to feeling safe and warm in Percy’s arms. He hadn’t felt like that since the caning.  

He turned his head to the side and was surprised to see Jason dancing with Princess Bianca so close to them. Jason appeared shocked as well. His eyes darted from Percy’s face to the back of Nico’s head, before he looked away, jaw clenched. His electric blue eyes flashed for a second, before an expression of polite disinterest came down like a mask over his face. 

The music slowed and came to a complete halt. Nico drew back from Percy, who remained oblivious to the short exchange, and turned away from Jason.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting,” Hermes was in front of the orchestra, speaking into a mic. “The winner for this 7th Selection Challenge was chosen by our host, Mayor Tristan, and by our dear guests, the prominent Fives of Aphrodisia. The winner is… Piper McLean!”

A spotlight shined down on Piper. It followed her as she walked over to Hermes and took the mic from him to express her thanks.

“I think you were better,” Percy said. He still hadn’t left Nico’s side. “But of course they’d vote for their own representative, right?”

“ I think she’s better,” Nico said, but he pressed himself closer to Percy’s side anyway, flattered that someone aside from Hazel had complimented his voice. 

“Now, a few words from His Royal Highness,” Hermes handed the mic to Jason next.

Jason was smiling that painfully polite smile, but there were tired lines around his mouth. He gripped the mic too tightly, his other hand a balled-up fist by his side. He was eloquent as usual, but his voice sounded strained, angry even. Nico knew him well enough to tell. He could only hope that Bianca would come to understand Jason like this, too. 

Jason finished his closing remarks to applause and cheers, and Nico turned his back on the ballroom to face Percy. 

Tomorrow, they would leave for Phthia. 

THE OLYMPIAN TIMES

Upset in Selection Popularity Polls:

'Lovely' Nico di Angelo Takes First Place

Hermes of Mt Cyllene, Arcadia

The 31st Selection recently held the 7th Selection Challenge at the Lotus Hotel in Aphrodisia, Home of Fives. The Challenge was a talent competition judged by Mayor Tristan McLean and other prominent Fives. Piper McLean, Five, won by a landslide after performing the Song of Helen. 

However, fans and supporters of Piper were alarmed to see her fall to No 2 in the official 31st Selection Popularity Polls. Overtaking Piper is Nico di Angelo, Eight, whom His Royal Highness the Prince Jason has called 'lovely' in a prior interview with The Olympian Times. 

Nico presented the Story of Orpheus, and with it rose 9 spots from his previous position at No 10.

For more on the 31st Selection, tune in to the Olympus Royal Report everyday at 7PM, Olympus Standard Time.

Chapter Text

At Aphrodisia, the Selection party traded the horse-drawn carriages they arrived in for a series long, interconnected steel carriages called a train. Nico had never seen one before, and he marveled at the size and sight of it. Along with the other Elites, he stepped onto the train and into a narrow walkway lined with doors. The corridor , that’s what it was called . He opened the door closest to him, curious, and was greeted by a small box of a room and the sight of sunrise, peeking through a large glass window opposite the door. Between the door and the large window were leather couches attached to the wall. 

Nico looked down the walkway at the other Elites picking rooms, and thought that this train was the perfect place to vanish. The doors had no windows, and the string of cabins seemed to go on forever. Nico strained his neck and swung his head from side to side, but still he could not make out where the train started or where it ended. The camera crews were on break too, as they still had to go over footage from last night’s ball. For the first time since the Selection began, the walls didn’t have eyes and the doors didn’t have ears.

Nico knew that once Leo and Calypso entered one of those doors, they would disappear forever.

“Get in, get in!” Hermes cupped his hands around his mouth. “We don’t have all day, ladies and gentlemen! We have to be at Phthia tomorrow. Faster, if you please!”

Tomorrow. Nico entered his room and closed the door behind him. That meant Percy had a day to whisk Leo and Calypso away from the Selection and to safety. It was a day for everything to go right, or horribly, terribly wrong.

Nico sat down and started waiting. 

Percy didn’t know that they’d be riding a train to Phthia.

He didn’t even know that they’d built tracks from Aphrodisia to his province. It made sense, in hindsight. Phthia was a port province. All exports landed in Phthia, and all imports left the Kingdom from there too. Of course, they built tracks. 

He cursed under his breath. What now? 

His plan to ride ahead on his own carriage, with Leo and Calypso secretly and safely tucked away in the compartment, was out of the window. Percy knew he had to think fast. He only had until tonight to come up with something. He strolled down the corridor, the sunlight in his eyes. Could he derail one of the passenger cars of the train? No, he couldn't. He didn't know anything about trains. 

Could he send a messenger to Phthia and have someone bring over a carriage? Percy knew the entourage brought horses, but could a horse outrun this steel monstrosity? No, it was impossible. Even a thoroughbred racehorse would tire after an entire night of riding. Only a horse like Tempest would - 

Percy stopped in his tracks. 

Tempest. 

Loud, desperate knocks sounded from Nico’s door come lunchtime, but before he could stand to open it, Percy barged in, eyes wide. He closed the door behind him, blocking it with his body. Nico’s hands were rigid with strain on his knees. From the frown on Percy’s face, it was easy to tell something had gone wrong.

“I’m stealing Jason’s horse,” Percy finally spoke, his voice firm. "Leo and Calypso will ride him to Phthia and meet up with my friends there. And then Tempest will come back here and no one would be the wiser. Easy."

Nothing about it sounded easy. Just listening to Percy made Nico shrink in on himself. He remembered his neighbor, Makaria, combing his hair and telling him all sorts of things about Jason the week after the Selection announcement. "He has a black horse named Tempest,” She had said. And after that, “He doesn't like talking about his sister so don't bring that up!” That moment felt like a lifetime ago. He remembered thinking it was “useless” for him to know these things about the Prince. Now, he wondered why he didn’t know more .

“Tempest,” Nico said. Jason’s favorite horse. Nico swallowed, throat dry. He’d never spoken to Jason about the horse. He never even got to meet Tempest. There were so many things he still didn't know about Jason, so many things they hadn't shared with each other. 

"You need to cause a distraction," Percy stepped to the side and swung the door open. "In the hallway. A big one."

Nico didn't have time to process the words. The only thing he heard was the urgency in Percy's voice for his mind to conjure the images of Leo and Calypso being caned. He rushed out the door with not even a thought of a plan, his body colliding with Percy's in the doorway as the two of them burst into the hallway. 

"Go," Percy whispered, before he disappeared into one of the doors lining the steel corridor. 

Nico ran. 

"I knew it was rigged!" Drew howled in the dining car, her face twisted with rage. "How else would you explain my ranking in the polls! I'm always, always behind!" 

Nico didn't press the topic. He didn't have to, Drew was plenty fired up on her own. His eyes darted about the dining car, watching as the rest of the Selected who had chosen to dine here instead of in their rooms shuffled about. He was keenly aware of the nervous tapping of his foot, the perspiration beading on his forehead. 

Nico wondered if this was enough distraction. He had come here running, almost breathless, after he and Percy split, looking for the one person he knew would be more than happy to cause a commotion. Drew Tanaka. He had slid beside her at her table and whispered to her the lies he concocted in his head as he ran through the steel corridors. 

"I heard the staff talking," He had said, slowly, so his mouth could catch up with his brain. "It's all rigged, everything. From whoever was chosen from the Provinces - "

"I knew that," Drew had blinked. 

"To the ranking in the polls, airtime and editing during the show - " 

"Airtime? Editing?" Drew had risen from her seat, her face contorting with indignation. "But Daddy told me we were in charge of those. That's why the Palace chose me from that backwater province - Daddy even gave them free advertising time - " 

" - and the winners of the Challenges." Nico finished, slinking back into his seat as Drew exploded. 

"I'm going to talk to His Highness," Drew suddenly announced. She started marching for the doors, muttering to herself. "What's the point of staying here if I'm not going to win or get any airtime? Do they know how many other opportunities I'm missing the longer I stay here?" 

Her voice faded as she stomped out of the dining car, but Nico hurried to Katie. The girl was staring after Drew, a plate cradled in her hands. 

"She said she's going to tell His Highness that she heard the Challenges are rigged," Nico said in a single breath. "And that you didn't deserve to win!" 

Katie dumped her plate on the nearest table and took off. Io ran after her and Nico almost sighed in relief. The less people there were in the dining car, the bigger the commotion. Piper approached him. She looked apprehensive. 

"I heard some bits of what Drew was saying," She wrung her hands. "I didn't know there was any rigging, I've never heard of it, I don't - " 

"You should go with them," Nico gave her the slightest shove, the touch of his hand against her back feather-light, but it sent her running anyway. 

That was four people. Was that enough? As if to answer his unvoiced question, Percy entered the room, looking for all the world like he had just gone strolling. 

"His Highness is receiving grievances in the hallway," He announced, cool as can be as he made his way through the car. That sent Bianca and Reyna to their feet, as if they had only been waiting for an announcement. 

Annabeth watched as Percy passed through the car, seemingly unconcerned, but he gulped as her bright gray eyes studied each person left in the car: him, her, Leo, Calypso, and Will. He could almost hear the gears turning in her head. She stood, and Nico braced himself. 

"We should all go back to our rooms," She turned to Will. "Please escort me." To Leo, she mouthed, 'Good luck.'  

Leo choked out a laugh, high, breathless, and full of disbelief. He shook his head as Annabeth marched Will out the dining car. "She's always been too smart for her own good," He said, a fond smile on his face. 

With Annabeth's blessing, the three of them ran for the stable car. 

Nico couldn't imagine how in Olympus the Palace-workers managed to get the horses on-board the steel train, but here they were: packed onto rows and rows of stalls that lined either side of the long stable car. Unlike the other train cars, the room had wide, horizontal windows that opened at the top of the walls. The horses whinnied and neighed, and Nico heard the water in their bowls sloshing around from the movement of the train. 

"Over here!" Called a voice from the end of the car. 

Nico, Leo, and Calypso rushed to the back of the car, where they found Percy wrangling a horse dark as midnight and almost as tall as the train itself. It had been outfitted in riding gear befitting a horse of the Royal Family, with the saddle on its back, its bridle, and its reins all glittering gold. Was this the horse Nico had been told so much about? It was less a horse and more a mythical beast of legend! With its powerful hooves and proud eyes, it reminded Nico of the storm spirits in myths - 

It lunged out of its stall, slamming against Percy. Percy went down with a curse, and he continued cursing as the horse attempted to stomp him into the steel of the train with its front hooves. 

"How are we supposed to ride that thing!" Leo cried from behind Nico. 

"Just - " Percy jumped up, avoiding the horse's assault, and lunged for the reins swinging in the air, " - grab its reins!" He missed and ended up halfway slung across the horse's back, sending the beast into an even worse frenzy. The other horses had started whinnying too, agitated by the commotion. Percy slipped off the beast's back, landing on his behind. He rolled to one side to avoid the horse's thrashing. 

"We have to help him!" Leo shrieked as he charged at the horse. At the same time, Calypso edged backwards, towards the door they'd come from, screaming, "We have to get help!" 

Nico grit his teeth. They couldn't count on anybody else's help. But he was here. He promised to help Leo and Calypso, so help he would. He never thought his help would come in the form of wrangling a horse twice his size, but he had to do whatever he could. 

Hoping against hope that he didn't end up with a chest full of hooves, he jumped into the fray.