Under the Water(Fem. Percy)

Chapter 26

Days and nights pass. Maybe even an entire season at this point: the water feels even colder than it was before, the plant in the corner's died back, and a blanket is never far from my reach. The change in temperature doesn't seem to bother Cyreus much, or Tulia and Orthello. It's like Dad's presence has pulled away, leaving me vulnerable. Normally, I'd be fine with a less overbearing presence, since it'd give me more than enough chance to slip away.

If it wasn't making gripping my powers hard. They're fine sand in my hands, slipping through the cracks of my fingers. If I'd had any doubts about Dad wanting me dead, they're gone.

He knows what life is like for demigods. He knows what happens to us when we can't defend ourselves, and he's still--

"Not that one!" Tulia plucks the utensil out of my hand and places it back beside the plate.

I sigh. ...And he's trapped me with no defenses and is forcing me to learn dinner etiquette instead of anything useful.

"It's a fork," I say.

"It's a salad fork."

I stare blankly at Tulia. What does it matter what a fork is supposed to be used for, when it can pick up food just the same? It's like complaining that a paring knife is meant for food when it can work just as well for defense. Which, I grimace, at least Mom had more reasons to be angry with me stealing her knife than anything that'll be warranted from me not knowing different forks.

The bell tolls, and Cyreus moves towards the door. "I trust you two will be able to keep her in check while I'm gone." The question is in reality only directed at Tulia. Orthello's asleep in a chair.

"Can I go with you?" I ask. His eyes slide to me, and one of his eyebrows curves into an arch.

"You...want to go shopping with me?"

I shrug. "It's better than being stuck here."

"Can't blame her." Tulia's hair coils around my arm. Its strong grip holds me in place. "I couldn't imagine having to be stuck in here with you all the time. What do you even do when we're not here? Stare at the scrolls longingly?" Her words make Cyreus's face flush red. "Oh depths, you do."

"You know how much these would cost."

Still laughing, Tulia turns to me. "Orthello and I can cover for you. As much as I don't like going against your father, I need a break from arguing with you about silverware."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Cyreus says. "She's safest here, and if anything happens to her while she's gone..."

"Well, easy solution, don't let her get hurt."

"You say that like she doesn't attract stuff."

"I've got Riptide," I say and twirl the pen around my fingers. "It'll be enough to keep someone from killing me. Even if someone keeps saying that I'm not capable of defending myself."

I didn't think it was possible for Cyreus's face to get any redder, but he hunches his shoulders up and proves me wrong. He wraps a hand around my wrist and pulls me through the halls to his office. It's small and disorganized, with papers covering every surface and a wide array of battle markers strewn about. A carved hippocampus skitters across the floor when his foot catches it.

Perching on the edge of his desk, I swing my legs through the water. "Tulia's really invested in silverware." It's an attempt to break the awkward tension. Not a good one, and I dig my nails harder into my thighs the longer Cyreus silently digs through his belongings. He tucks papers and styluses away, tapping them against the surface to straighten them up. A magically updating map of the palace is swept away the moment I lean to look at it. A smile spreads over his lips.