NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

thirty four: the city.

BROOKLYN WOKE UP well-rested for the first time in a long time.

The room was chaotic where she woke up, though, girls running to opposite sides of the room, brushing their hair, getting ready, that sort of thing.

Hazel was nearby, about to climb the ladder to the top bunk when she saw that Brooklyn was awake and smiled. "Hey, Brooks."

"Are we getting breakfast?" Brooklyn asked, sitting up and slinging her legs off of her bed.

"It's gonna be a quick breakfast, then the Senate meeting," Hazel threw her some clothes — another goddamn dress, naturally — and a bag of toiletries. "Also, you have ten minutes to get ready. I think you should use your daughter of Jupiter privileges to claim the bathroom."

"Good plan," Brooklyn shot out of bed. "Thanks, Hazel!"

After spending five of those ten minutes trying to figure out how to put her dress on ( why did they have to give her complicated dresses? Come on ), she went to breakfast, where everyone was whispering about her.

"Two gods in one day . . ."

"Un-Roman fighting . . ."

"Shocked me to my core . . ."

Naturally, she reveled in the attention, as the daughter of Jupiter. She noticed her posture was straighter as she ate her pancakes. She scrunched her nose up at Percy, who was literally eating everything in sight.

"You're disgusting," she told him.

"Deeel wif it," he said with a full mouth. She rolled her eyes and pushed away her plate as Reyna announced that the senate would now convene in the city, and all the dudes in bedsheets got up to leave.

"Here we go." Hazel fidgeted with a stone that looked like a two-carat ruby.

The ghost Vitellius appeared next to them in a purple shimmer. "Bona fortuna, you four! Ah, senate meetings. I remember the one when Caesar was assassinated. Why, the amount of blood on his toga—"

"Thanks, Vitellius," Frank interrupted. "We should get going."

Reyna and Octavian led the procession of senators out of camp, with Reyna's metal greyhounds dashing back and forth along the road. Percy, Hazel, Frank, and Brooklyn trailed behind. Brooklyn noticed Nico di Angelo in the group, wearing a black toga and talking with Gwen, who looked a little pale but surprisingly good considering she'd been dead the night before. Nico waved at Brooklyn, then went back to his conversation, leaving her more sure than ever that Hazel's brother was trying to avoid her.

Dakota stumbled along in his red-speckled bedsheet. A lot of other senators seemed to be having trouble with their togas, too — hiking up their hems, trying to keep the cloth from slipping off their shoulders. Brooklyn was almost glad for her dress.

"How could Romans move, in those things?" Percy wondered.

"They were just for formal occasions," Hazel said. "Like tuxedos. I bet the ancient Romans hated togas as much as we do. By the way, you didn't bring any weapons, did you? I told Brooks to leave her ring behind."

"A decision I'm currently regretting," Brooklyn muttered, her vision going gray and red for a bit before coming back. "It would go so well with this dress."

"Why are you wearing another dress?" Percy's hand went to his pocket as he frowned at her. "And, yeah, I have my sword. Why? Are we not supposed to?"

"They keep giving me dresses to wear," she grumbled. "It's not my choice."

"No weapons allowed inside the Pomerian Line," Hazel said after her.

Percy's frown deepened. "The what line?"