People Meet Percabeth

Princess Camila Castillo

A/N Hello fellow demigods! Meet Camila Castillo, not our normal narrator—Camila is a princess! Camila rules a small island country off of the coast of Western Europe. She is a demigod, one that will prove to be very powerful asset and demigod. Percy and Annabeth are sent to this island, because of Percy's power, and will be attending a ball! Enjoy! A part two of Tessa will be coming soon, and probably a part two of this directly after! Love you all! Don't let the monsters bite! Peace out! ✌🏻😘 ~Maddie.

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Princess Camila Castillo did not expect to walk into the ballroom and recognize everyone; she did not have a great memory. To be truthful, Camila thought it was her worst quality—to walk up to an ambassador, address them, have them know everything about her, but she couldn't even conjure up a name—it was embarrassing, and frankly, not something her mother and father cared for.

But when Camila entered the ball room, hiking up her skirts, hoping desperately that she would recognize someone, know someone's name. Then, the breath whooshed out of her—she knew everyone. Camila nearly bent on her knees and gave thanks to God right there. "Princess!"

Camila brushed away her thought—it was not the time to pray—and smiled her winning smile. "Your Highness," Camila curtsied to the prince of a neighboring country, "it's always a pleasure."

"Of course," the young prince blushed, "would you care to dance – "

"It was nice talking to you," Camila said, brushing him off briskly, "but I must speak to my father, I will try to make your acquaintance later Prince Tarin."

Tarin's face lifted up and he grappled for Camila's hand, bringing it to his lips; Camila tried her best to not yank her hand back or cringe. She was already doomed to marry the royal annoyance, why spend more time preening for him than absolutely necessary? Camila briskly walked to the nearest ambassador, hoping that Tarin wouldn't ask why she hadn't gone to her father—truth be told, she wasn't on great terms with her father either. Secret mistresses tend to drive a wedge in families.

After a few minutes of small talk, painful fake laughter and constant eye contact, Camila excused herself, knowing she would have to have her first dance soon. Camila surveyed the ball room, her feet aching just at the thought of dancing in her heels, her head aching at the thought of dancing with either Tarin or some old man who stepped on her feet and gripped her waist like he would pull her down with him should he take a tumble.

"Princess," a deep voice said from behind Camila, his voice caressing his name; a voice Camila did not recognize. Camila groaned internally—she was so close.

Camila turned, but startled. This man was not anyone Camila had ever met, but looked like someone she wanted to meet. With a jolt, Camila realized that the man was American—an American ambassador had not visited Camila's country in years, she was sure her father was jumping with joy. "Ambassador – "

"Jackson," he filled in, "but please, call me Percy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she curtsied low and sure to him, her grin everlasting.

"And you too," he said bowed extravagantly, his beautiful eyes dancing playfully. "Do you care to dance?"

"I would love to dance," Camila beamed; she could certainly do worse than the handsome American. Percy's tan hand engulfed hers, his other hand resting soundly on her waist, his slender fingers wrapping around carefully. Camila's skin tingled under the smooth fabric of her dress. Her legs peeked out of the slits in her dress, brushing Percy's leg—he barely seemed to notice. Camila knew her heart had long since been sold to Tarin, but it was no matter; there was no rule against having fun in the meantime.