The Bread Thief | Percabeth | Victorian Era AU

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖊𝖓: 𝕷𝖔𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕿𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖘

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course, I'm not an idiot."

Anne had been judging and critiquing Annabeth's plan since they left the house. Annabeth was too busy with her own thoughts about how amazing pants were to acknowledge anything Anne was saying past an "I'm not an idiot," or, "That's nice, Anne."

They finally walk up to the edge of the building that is near the jailhouse. Annabeth pulls the cap out of her back pocket and tucks her hair into it.

She turns to face Anne. "How do I look?"

"Like a boy."

Annabeth smiles. "Good."

"And a little ridiculous."

"Well, that's expected," Annabeth chides gently. "I look like a boy." She walks towards the guard at the door. "Don't let anyone see you until the guard is gone," she whispers to Anne before leaving. She looks at the guard and holds up her father's badge to the man.

The man glares at it. "You are not Mr Chase," the man says dumbly.

Annabeth smiles. "Of course not. I'm his associate. I'm here to visit with the bread thief." She forces the bitterness out of her voice. "Mr Chase wishes to send a message to him."

The man narrows his eyes. "That story is flawed."

Annabeth scoffs. "You would like to tell me you wish for me to go back to Mr Chase and report to him that I could not deliver a crucial message because his own guard wouldn't let his messenger boy through?" Annabeth turns around. "Alright, suit yourself. I'm sure he will be so pleased to hear this."

She takes three steps before the man says, "No. No need. You don't need to get Frederick."

"You mean Mr Chase," Annabeth corrects. "I'm sure you wouldn't want him to assume that you've lost respect for him, would you?"

"A-Absolutely not," the man stuttered. "What else could I do for him."

"He wants new tea." She crosses her arms. "How about you find some and then I'll meet you back here. I'll make sure he knows that you went out of your way to ensure his comforts."

"Yes..." His voice trails off. "What is your name?"

"Luke Castellan."

"Like Hermes's son?"

"Yes but there's no relation," Annabeth says, forcing her face to remain neutral. "A mere coincidence is all."

The man grunts a response and drops the key into Annabeth's palm and walks away. Anne rushes over to Annabeth once the man is out of sight.

"Holy bollocks! That worked?" she asks. "How . . ."

"Men are competitive creatures." Annabeth shrugs a shoulder. "He was more focused on pleasing my dead father than paying attention to who I actually was. I spent my entire life around men and have actual intelligence so I was able to get him to focus on certain things and not the logistics or the fact that even though my father has a very high status, he's not high enough on the politics food chain to even have his own messenger boy."

"You are very sneaky."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Then they disappear inside of the jailhouse and Annabeth forces herself to stay strong as she looks for Percy through the corridors.