Chapter Text
The whole town is in turmoil. Every residence in which live maiden, eligible ladies from the high society, has received an invitation to the ball hosted by King Poseidon himself. The ball shall take place in his residence, the Palace of Atlantis — apparently, Prince Perseus is in search of a wife.
When the invitation made it all the way to the Olympian Council, reaching the hands of the fellow monarchs, there was cheering, murmurs, and sighs of the kings that didn’t wish to go, but still would, like Zeus, Hades, Ares, and Hephaestus. The goddesses were interested, and intrigued. All of them, except for two — Artemis, who was purely uninterested, and Athena, who despised the idea of stepping foot in her sworn enemy’s territory. Moreover, the Queen of Athens has not seen her daughter since the day she was born, so she can't take any chances to run into her now.
***
There aren’t many decisions that Annabeth regrets making during her nineteen years of life. But one thing she certainly regrets is the fact that she gave her stepmother the invitation to Poseidon’s ball instead of throwing it away. Lady Helen and her daughters are running around, shrieking and constantly trying on new dresses that they bought with Fredrick Chase’s fortune. The thought alone makes Annabeth’s blood boil with rage.
‘Amybeth!’ Lady Helen shouts from somewhere around the manor, probably the giant room they use to hang the dresses.
Annabeth slowly lifts herself up from her kneeling position after scrubbing the floor with an old cleaning cloth. Quickly, she makes her way up the stairs to meet her stepmother and to follow whatever cruel order the woman has to give her this time. ‘Yes, m’am?’ Annabeth asks politely, standing with her back straight at the doorstep, not wanting to make things worse for herself by overstepping.
‘I just wanted to make sure that you are fully aware of the fact that you are not attending this ball.’ Lady Helen says with an ironic smile, her tone full of disdain.
‘I figured.’ Annabeth says, refusing to showcase any sort of negative emotion. That’s exactly what Helen was expecting from her, and Annabeth would not give her the delight. ‘May I go back to cleaning, my lady?’ She questions without emotion.
Her attitude clearly leaves Lady Helen in astonishment, but after furrowing her eyebrows for a split-second, she regains her composure, and nods. ‘You’re dismissed.’ She states coldly.
Annabeth bows slightly before making her way down the stairs again to resume cleaning the floor.
Right before her stepmother and stepsisters left, they stopped at the doorway and looked Annabeth up and down in mockery. Unfortunately, Annabeth made the mistake to lean down to retrieve the cleaning cloth, making her necklace with her father’s ring visible.
‘That’s our father’s ring!’ Martha exclaims, pointing towards the pendant around her stepsister’s neck.
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Barbara replies wide-eyed, taking a step forward. ‘What makes you think that you can have it, Annabelle?’
‘It’s the only thing from him that I own. He’s my father too!’ Annabeth replies, accidentally raising her voice.
‘You are illegitimate!’ Helen shouts back. ‘You don’t deserve anything from him. In his final will, he left his fortune to me, his wife!’
Her stepmother’s loud voice makes Annabeth freeze in place. Helen’s words cut through her like a knife. She cannot even be considered her father’s daughter because he didn’t marry her mother? Deep down, Annabeth always knew that’s how society works, but it is still unfair. Her mother can ignore her existence all she wants, but she is the daughter of a nobleman, who promised that she would always be safe. Living in this house is the opposite of safe.
Suddenly, Martha approaches her and aggressively rips the cord off her neck, making the ring get tossed away. With a clattering noise, it falls right before the first step of the staircase.
The twins are fast, but Annabeth runs like her life depends on it. She reaches for the ring as if it were a lifeline. Because, deep down, it is. Martha and Barbara looked ready to fight over it, but fortunately for Annabeth, the carriage arrived at that moment and they had no other choice aside from going after their cruel, ruthless mother.
The poor woman who was now a maid, was left holding onto her dead father's ring, wondering what it would be like to have the opportunity to attend the ball as a lady from high society. It was just a small, selfish part of her that she rarely allowed herself to pay attention to. Annabeth supposes this is happening due to an unusual moment of frailty caused by Fredrick Chase’s absence despite him also being absent most of the time, even when he was alive. She sighs, safely tucking the ring into the pocket of her maid dress, before picking up the cloth to clean the rest of the windows.
Finally, when she reaches the open window in her bedroom, also known as the attic, she hears a familiar “hoot” coming from somewhere above her head. Surely, the white owl that she has seen around multiple times has returned. No mice this time, but it's carrying a package bigger than its body, which hasn't happened before. Suddenly, the owl drops the package in question, and Annabeth catches it out of reflex.
Hoot! The owl whined before flying away.
‘What on earth…?’ Annabeth whispers, brushing her thumb across the top of the dusty box. There’s an owl engraved on it. She stares at the box for a second more, before she lays it down on her small bed, and removes the lid. Inside, lies a beautiful Caribbean blue dress made out of a soft, silky fabric.
It couldn’t be a gift from Athena, could it?
Either way, she now has a ball gown, and white matching gloves made out of silk that she can wear to attend the ball. All she needs is a cloak to hide her identity, which she easily finds.
Then, she hails a cab because, though she has no problem getting her dress dirty under normal circumstances, she needs to be discreet and take some time to arrive, so she can avoid accidentally bumping into her stepmother, and causing a scene. Thankfully, she had some leftover money that she saved for a situation like this, although it seemed unlikely for anything to happen until now.
After what felt like hours, the carriage came to a stop. The hackney coachman opened the door and extended his hand out to her. She took it and carefully descended the steps of the carriage watching her feet because she’s not used to wearing heels. The dress is extremely uncomfortable and unlike anything she's worn in the last couple of years, but she’ll push through it because she won’t waste what could possibly be her only chance to leave the palace for a while.
When Annabeth finally looks up, her breath gets momentarily caught up in her throat. The architecture of the Atlantic palace is quite literally breathtaking: there’s a mix of Ancient Greek and modern architectural elements, like columns, mostly made of quartz, and the floor to ceiling windows stained with all shades of blue. The double entrance doors are being held open with celestial bronze chains attached to the walls.
After walking through the entrance, a footman approached Annabeth quietly from behind.
‘May I retrieve your cloak, miss?’ He asks politely.
‘I appreciate the assistance sir, but I wish for it to remain on.’ She declines as respectfully as possible. The footman nods, and they both bow before Annabeth makes her way up the staircase in the centre of the room. The whole palace is illuminated by crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and she takes a moment to admire every single one of them. She’s always found chandeliers to be marvelous, but she doesn’t get to see them much, since her stepmother despises them, and got them removed from her father’s manor when he died.
Finally, Annabeth arrives at the ballroom, and joins the mass of young ladies, and parents, making sure to stay remotely hidden in the back, away from people’s attention. She can’t afford to be seen by her stepmother, or stepsisters.
The Olympian monarchs are sitting upfront, and Poseidon stands up from his throne, and rings a bell to catch the guests’ attention.
‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to my very first official ball of the season.’ He starts, his voice heavy with authority, but simultaneously filled with delight and calmness. ‘This celebration is even more special and important than the previous ones because my dear son, Perseus, shall find his perfect match through the Matchmaking Chandelier tonight.’ He declares, gesturing towards the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Truly, it seemed to be larger and different from the others. The crystals in it reflect the light, and when looking closely, it’s possible to see every colour flickering in its transparency as it faintly swings from side to side. There are also shiny pearls adorning the crystals and there is a faint sea breeze in the atmosphere, almost as if they were standing at a beach instead of a ball room.
'Let the ceremonial ball begin!'