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"Alright, listen up!" Octavians voice echoed through the large court room. The people sitting in the public straightened up, waiting politely for their praetor to continue. He was sitting proudly at the judges table, holding a torn bunny plush in his hands.
He nodded and two tall strict looking ladies walked through the double door, holding hostage two petrified demigods.
"Victims number one. Names." One of them whispered, but the room was dead silent so everyone clearly heard it.
"Gwen... Gwendolyn."
"Dakota."
"Who are you loyal to?" Octavian said, pointing at the blonde girl, pale from horror. Her face was dripping in sweat. "If you decide to serve as a Roman, I'll simply let you go. But if you say Greek..."
The dude sitting next to the blonde scrawny boy pulled out a dagger so shiny and sharp it pierced through the air as he unsheathed it. He was tan and ripped with short buzzed hair. The fact that he was Octavians sidekick was silly, when it should clearly be the other way around.
"Roman! Down with the Greeks! Roman till the end! Woo hoo!" Gwendolyn bursted without hesitation.
Octavian looked very amused. "Very well then. You seem trustworthy. I'm sure you won't let me down. Reyna, let them go."
They felt immediate relief. Always pick the winning side, Gwen thought, when it's necessary at least. One of the ladies, whose name was Reyna walked them through the door.
"Next!"
After a short pause, Reyna kicked in a young boy that seemed to be resisting to enter. His hands were tied behind his back and he fell to his knees.
"Victim two. Nico di Angelo, son of Pluto. Not obedient."
"Same question for you."
Nico barely looked up at the praetor. "I don't care. Does it matter? I don't take sides."
Octavian looked pissed off, but he tried to remain unbothered. "Is that your final answer?" He asked as if he's a quiz host talking to a player that's about to loose a prize, but instead of cash it's his life.
"Roman. Sure. Whatever makes you happy." He did not sound convincing at all. Reyna grabbed his shaggy black hair and pulled his head up. It was rude not to look someone in the eyes while replying. Especially towards someone with that title and with your life on the line.
Michael Kahale looked at Octavian, asking for a word. Octavian gave him a look that said go on. He stood up and shouted "If you're not Roman, you're Greek. And we'll kill you. You're either with or against us. A friend of Greeks is an enemy to us."
"Well said, Kahale. Untie him... For now." He stated indecisively, looking at Kahale from his side. "But keep an eye on him, Reyna. Next!"
Octavian was getting more and more impatient by each moment. He was now fidgeting with the sheath of Michaels dagger that was sitting on the table.
A certain person walked into the room, and as their footsteps echoed intimidatingly, Octavian truly hoped he'd get a fair reason to end them, since it had a big impact on his reputation.
"Perseus Jackson. Son of Neptune. The liar and the spy." Octavian got up and smirked. "Step up. You're lucky i even decided to hear you out. Answer the question."
Percy looked as smug and unbothered as always. Without thinking, he confidently screamed "Glory to Gree-"
Ouch! Hole in one! Bullseye! Right between his eyes! Not even the audience was shocked. They were very much sure Octavian would catch and kill at least one Greek. It was the reason they stayed this long.
"In this proper country there's no such thing as 'testifying for defense.'" Octavian broke the horrifying silence, making finger quotation marks. And then started hysterically laughing. It continued until Kahale cleared his throat, giving him a sing that they should continue with the trial.
Victim number four was once a good friend of the praetor and everyone knew that. Everyone knew the victim, too. The room filled with tension, as Jason Grace walked in with Reyna holding him by the shoulder. Jason looked down at his friends corpse, completely shocked and disgusted. Nobody even thought about cleaning it off the tiled floor. He tried to avoid getting blood on his shoes and cargo shorts as he kneeled down, begging Octavian for mercy.
"Octavian, this is pointless!" He muttered. "We should be allies-"
"You little-!" Octavian snatched the knife out of Michaels hands, ready to kill him himself. Just when he was about to take action, Michael got close and whispered something in his ear. His face changed, from looking outraged to unimpressed. He let out a pathetic little sigh and put his fingers his nose bridge.
"Ah, I can't kill you yet, for they will have my head. You're not worth my time either way. You're dismissed."