Alternatively

Just a Boy, Just a Girl (ii.)

"I need the revisions by tomorrow at the latest."

Leo sharply nodded, quickly disappearing from the chamber.

"In the morning, I want that commission to be sent out to both stores," she slapped two pieces of paper on the table with a little too much force. "They should be distributing by noon, am I clear?"

The woman just took the papers and hurried out as well, eyes downcast.

"And the parade-"

"Is taken care of."

She whipped around to glare at Piper. "The request forms came in an hour ago, it is not taken care of."

"They came in the afternoon," she dryly replied, unfazed. "And they aren't urgent."

"I have the time now, let me just-"

"Touch them and I'll break your fingers."

Annabeth scowled, scooping up discarded fountain pens. "I said you could go anytime if you're tired."

"And I said I'll wait up until the work is done," she closed the document box with a firm click. "The work was done hours ago."

While it was true her council had long since left, Annabeth had found more and more tasks that really could be done, because what was the use in putting off until tomorrow what you could do today?

"You have an early morning," Piper joined the maid in pushing in the empty chairs, each scuff now all too loud. "It is early morning. Go to bed."

Gritting her teeth, Annabeth shoved her own chair under the table and stormed out of the chamber.

Piper's soft voice haunted her down the dark hall: "It's okay to think about it."

She didn't need to think about it, there was no point in thinking about it. It wasn't that she didn't care, it held about the same weight as her aunt's death or her father before; there was no use in thinking about something she couldn't change.

Her footsteps were loud, and the halls were even bigger in the dark. She felt so small, hardly realizing she was slowing down as the darkness warped around her. For a moment, she was walking and the corridor just seemed to grow and grow and she just knew she would never reach the end.

Barely breathing, she turned sharply at the first light her eyes caught, bursting into the courtyard with no regard to the cold or the sound of the door slamming behind her.

She didn't need to think about it.

She didn't want to.

Annabeth numbly sat on a stone bench, staring hard at the moon hanging just above the crest of the rooftop. There was barely anything to look at, a mere slice of a crescent carved into the sky, but she couldn't look away. She wouldn't.

For a few moments, maybe a few minutes, she sat in silence as the chill seeped through her dress and the air frosted over her skin and the moon seemed to blink in and out of existence.

Then a gentle, "Annabeth?"

Annabeth, she blinked at the sky. Right. That's me.

She was so used to Your Majesty, she had nearly forgotten.

"Aren't you cold?"

"No," she murmured. "Not really."

Rustling clothing managed to draw her attention to the bench a few feet to her right, Percy slowly standing with a careful expression. She decided she would hate him if he asked the question, she would truly hate him.