Under the Water(Fem. Percy)

Chapter 12

"How many times are you going to keep doing this?" Cyreus asks. My heels barely drag on the stones. Being submerged in water doesn't help with being stubborn. How can I make it difficult for him when all he has to do is lift me a tiny amount and pull?

"As long as it takes you to stop caring."

"You just got on good terms with your father again, are you trying to make my job miserable?"

A biting remark dies on my tongue. That wasn't as formal as what he normally says. We turn a corner. "Well, are you trying to make my life miserable?" Even that revalation couldn't stop me for long. And if this is what it takes for him to get the stick out of his ass, then so be it.

"I'm trying to get you safely to the kitchen for lunch, so unless you want to go hungry, maybe you should reconsider your life choices."

"Dad would probably love to hear that you're starving me."

"Children get punished when they don't do what they're told."

I bristle, and the water goes still around us. "I am just as old as you." He glances at me with golden eyes. There's no way he's older than me. Not when he kept blushing at me in a sportsbra. Not when I overhear the younger servants gossip while the older ones roll their eyes good-naturedly.

"You don't act it. Do you antagonize everyone you come across?"

"Pretty much." What else was there to do? Sit down and be quiet? Let gods powertrip? Well, they still do that, but I try not to make it easy for them. Let them be infuriated---like Dad will end up---it generally ends with them deciding to leave me along. After years and years, eventually you lose your patience; I didn't have much to begin with. "Dad does the same. A lot of my personality comes from him."

"A punishment upon us by the Fates," he says dryly. The pace he's set falters. "Apologies. I...forgot myself."

The break was fun while it lasted. He keeps his grip on my arm, but the rest of the walk is silent. In the kitchen, I'm handed a tray of food: meat, vegetables, a pre-packaged snack cake, and a can of Coke. It's a blessing. Though, I search over the food, what's Dad going to want out of it? He'll probably want the Zebra Cake, so I'll have to eat that first and sacrifice the vegetables to him instead.

It hasn't worked yet, but it will eventually.

"What is that?" Cyreus asks.

"Looks like stew beef. Minus the stew."

He looks at me, head tilted a little to the side like a confused pigeon. It's hard to smother my laugh.

"A stew is when you put meat and vegetables together with some liquid and cook it in a pot. Usually you put it in a bowl and have the broth with it, but there's a small issue with having it down here. A lot of people don't drink the broth anyway, me included, so it's not that bad to not have it."

"You put something into the food that you don't intend to eat? You land-dwellers are so odd."

"Better than dry meat." I balance the tray with one hand and pull off a string of the meat. It's savory, with just the right amount of pepper. Comfort bleeds into me. It tastes like Mom's cooking. The tiny hint of cinnamon is from Paul, and even though I hate it when he adds it in, I find myself wanting to shove the food in my mouth. Probably because it's the first surface food I've seen lately. Possibly because I'm growing on the way he cooks. The former is far more likely.

I ended up eating in the gardens, with Cyreus watching my every move.

Cyreus stands by the door. He stands there, tensed. I run my tongue along my teeth as my heart beats against my ribs. I don't like it. The way he stands, the way his hand curls around the spea,r and the way the other one rests on his sword... It make me want Riptide out. Holding weapons like that means there's danger. There shouldn't be in danger in here, so he shouldn't need them. Unless he's planning on using them against me. Drumming my knuckles against the table, I shake that thought. Dad wouldn't let him do that. Dad doesn't want me hurt.