Chapter Text
My little Katie, she thought when she finally spotted the girl she was looking for through the large window across from her table.
The beautiful woman cradled the warm teacup between her hands. The window overlooked a lovely park and—best of all—offered the perfect vantage point to watch a pair of teenagers playing together, laughing freely. Yet charming as the couple was, her attention never wavered from the girl. She smiled as she saw the young woman’s face light up, her head tipping back as she burst into laughter without even trying to hold it in.
It had been a long time since she’d looked so happy, so carefree.
“So this is where you are, Aphrodite.”
Aphrodite set her teacup down on its saucer and turned toward the familiar male voice. He wore a white T-shirt, black jeans, a black leather jacket, and combat boots. His short, dark hair gleamed, standing in sharp contrast to the scattered scars across his cheeks—each one telling a story.
He wore sunglasses, hiding eyes that were, quite literally, small explosions.
To Aphrodite, all those scars—along with his eyes and his temperament—were undeniably attractive, even if he could be unbearably ill-timed at times.
“Welcome, Ares,” she said, turning her gaze back to the couple.
She couldn’t help smiling when she saw the boy lift the girl and spin her through the air while she squealed with laughter. Still, there was something about that boy that didn’t quite sit right with the goddess.
“One of your couples?” Ares asked, pulling Aphrodite out of her scrutiny.
He took the empty chair. Aphrodite frowned, irritated.
“Something like that.”
The boy set the girl down and leaned in to kiss her forehead. Her smile widened. And despite the sweetness of the gesture, something about him still felt off. What was it?
“What’s your problem with that couple?” Ares asked impatiently. “Did you forget we’re supposed to go to that crippled old man’s junkyard to see the loser?”
“I know. Just give me a moment,” Aphrodite replied softly.
At that instant, the girl turned toward the café, and all of Aphrodite’s attention locked onto her. Her face was bright and unburdened, her radiant smile framed by dimples in both cheeks. Without a doubt, she’d inherited her father’s smile.
“We need to go,” Ares insisted.
Aphrodite wrinkled her nose, mildly annoyed, but she couldn’t really fault him. After all, she’d chosen to involve herself in that mission—so romantic, so nearly perfect—even with those detestable Huntresses lurking nearby. They’d better not ruin it.
“One more second. It’s been a long time since my daughter’s looked this happy.”
Ares stared at her, surprised, then looked toward the girl in the park.
“That girl is your daughter?”
Aphrodite didn’t bother confirming it. The answer was obvious: the aura of captivating beauty, the innate grace in her movements, the way everyone around her paused—if only for a moment—to look at her.
“That girl is my daughter,” Aphrodite said with a satisfied smile. “Can’t you tell? We’re identical… absolutely identical.”
She rose from the table. Still impressed, Ares followed suit.
“She’ll be coming with me soon, Ares. Unfortunately, it won’t be easy. She’s inherited far too much from me… and from her insufferable stepmother.”
Ares’s expression darkened into a scowl.
“Maybe that’s not the right thing to do. We’re in the middle of a war… and she seems fine here. Maybe she’ll never need to go to camp—the daughter of… that guy.”
Ares nearly spat the words. Aphrodite pressed her lips together, noting that he’d clearly wanted to use something far harsher.
“Unless, of course, you want her to become yet another warrior in this mess.”
“First of all, yes, she’s his daughter,” Aphrodite shot back, her tone edged with warning. “My little Katherine Hatherleigh, daughter of Benjamin Hatherleigh, needs to know her mother’s world—and I expect that to happen soon. Besides, your father says the situation is under control.”
“Do you really believe that, Aphrodite?” he asked, glancing once more at the girl, who was beginning to leave with her companion. “War is one of my domains. I know better than anyone when great bloodshed is coming…”
Aphrodite frowned. Ares’s jealousy and anger fueled his insistence on keeping Katherine away from the Greek world. He rarely hated her mortal lovers—but Benjamin Hatherleigh had earned a place on that very short list, right alongside Adonis.
“I suppose you would know,” she said, cutting him off, and the barely restrained fury in Ares’s gaze flared. “You were, for one summer, part of my half-brother’s army. I don’t need to consult anyone about what I’ll do with my daughter—certainly not you. I am her true mother, and I decide what’s best for her. My Katie will be coming to camp soon. But for now, let’s focus on Percy Jackson. He has to succeed in his mission.”
Ares raised an eyebrow, his anger fading—at least for the moment.
“Is that so?”
Aphrodite smiled charmingly, her eyes shifting in color, growing ever more mesmerizing.
“If love triumphs, nothing can go wrong.”
They both left the café and, in the blink of an eye, vanished without anyone noticing that two people had simply dissolved into thin air.
(O)
“Do you know why you’re here?” Aphrodite asked.
Percy Jackson sat across from her in that white Cadillac. Unfortunately, the goddess’s supernatural beauty made him so nervous he couldn’t even string a single word together.
“I… I don’t know,” he replied after awkwardly pinching his arm.
“Oh, sweetheart,” the goddess said. “Still denying it?”
Aphrodite heard Ares snickering outside. Part of her bristled at him laughing at something as important as love. But on the other hand, the flash of anger she saw ignite in the demigod’s eyes—thanks to the effect Ares’s powers had on people—helped clear Percy’s head a little, which was useful for conversation, of course.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Then why are you taking part in this quest?”
“Artemis has been captured!”
Aphrodite rolled her eyes. Was it too much to ask that Artemis and her band of love deniers not taint this quest? They were always diverting attention from what truly mattered.
“Artemis! Oh, please. That one’s a lost cause. I mean, if someone were going to kidnap a goddess, wouldn’t they choose one with enchanting beauty, don’t you think? I pity the poor souls stuck guarding Artemis. How dreadfully boring!”
“But she was chasing a monster,” Percy protested. “A really terrible monster. We have to find it!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Aphrodite noticed a flaw in her mascara and immediately corrected it. She had the demigod lift the mirror a little higher.
“Always some monster… But, my dear Percy, that’s everyone else’s reason for joining this quest. I’m far more interested in yours.”
Aphrodite could practically hear the son of Poseidon’s heart begin to race. She looked him straight in the eyes, and then the truth spilled from his lips.
“Annabeth is in trouble.”
She smiled, satisfied.
“Exactly!”
“I have to help her,” he continued, the filter he’d put on himself completely shattered. “I’ve been having dreams…”
“You’ve even been dreaming about her! How adorable!”
“No! I mean—no, that’s not what I meant.”
She clicked her tongue.
“Percy, I’m on your side. After all, I’m the reason you’re here.”
He stared at her, stunned.
“What?”
“The poisoned T-shirt the Stoll brothers gave Phoebe,” she said. “Did you really think that was an accident? And sending you Blackjack? And helping you sneak out of camp?”
“That was you?”
“Of course it was! Honestly, these Huntresses are unbearably dull… A monster quest, blah, blah, blah. To save Artemis! Leave her where she is, for all I care. But a quest for love…”
“Wait, I never said—”
“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t have to say it. You did know Annabeth was about to join the Huntresses, didn’t you?”
He blushed, and Aphrodite had to restrain herself from clapping in delight.
“I wasn’t completely sure…”
“She was about to throw her life away! And you, my dear, can save her from that fate… How romantic!”
“Uh…”
“You can lower the mirror now,” she ordered. “I’m fine.”
He looked at his hands in confusion, as if he’d forgotten he was even holding it, and lowered it without another word.
“Listen, Percy,” the goddess said. “The Huntresses are your enemies. Forget about them—about Artemis and the monster. None of that matters. You need to focus on finding Annabeth and saving her.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Aphrodite gestured irritably. So many questions.
“No, no. I’ll leave the details to you. It’s been ages since we’ve had a truly good tragic love story.”
“Hold on. First of all, I never said anything about love. And second, why tragic?”
“Love conquers all,” Aphrodite assured him. “Look at Helen and Paris. Did they let anything stand between them?”
“But didn’t they start the Trojan War and cause the deaths of thousands of people?”
Aphrodite snorted impatiently.
Why did everyone always focus on that? It was the same tired argument over and over, completely ignoring what truly mattered: love blooming in spite of adversity.
“Pfft! That’s not the point. You just follow your heart.”
“But… I don’t know where it’s going. My heart, I mean.”
She smiled fondly at his confusion, his doubts. Truly, this boy was special. He was meant to live a beautiful, heroic love story, and his fatal flaw—loyalty—only confirmed it.
“Not knowing is part of the fun,” Aphrodite said gently. “Isn’t it exquisitely painful when you’re not sure whom you love, or who loves you in return? Ah, mortals! It’s so lovely I could cry.”
“No—no,” he said awkwardly. “Please don’t.”
“And don’t worry,” she added. “I won’t let it be easy or boring for you. I have some wonderful surprises in store. Anguish. Doubt. Just wait and see…”
“Okay, thanks. You really don’t have to.”
“How adorable! I wish all my daughters could break the heart of a boy like you!” Her eyes were beginning to glisten. “Now you’d better go. And be careful in my husband’s territory, Percy. Don’t take anything. He’s very touchy about his trinkets and scrap.”
“What?” he asked. “You mean Hephaestus?”
Percy’s sea-green eyes met the goddess’s one last time, and she saw the possible romances laid out before the hero. The most prominent was his love story with Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena—but like all mortals, he had more than one path.
She saw several faces, but none shook her as much as the last one.
A girl with golden-red hair falling in soft waves down her back, an infinite sadness in her shifting eyes that she tried to hide behind a bright, playful smile. Free-spirited. Adventurous. Unburdened.
“Katie,” Aphrodite whispered in awe.
“Katie?” Percy echoed, confused.
The door opened at that moment, and Ares grabbed Percy by the shoulder and tossed him outside.
On another day, Aphrodite would have protested the rough way he treated that demigod who was slowly becoming one of her favorite heroes. But seeing her daughter among Percy Jackson’s possible destinies—a son of one of the Big Three, and her being… well, her—filled her with unease.
It felt like a cruel twist of fate, and that was precisely why she feared it. The Fates loved those kinds of unexpected, chaotic turns.
And yes, she still felt the same: she would love for one of her daughters to end up with the son of Poseidon—or even to break his heart, if necessary… any of them, except Katherine, her daughter with Benjamin Hatherleigh.
“What’s wrong?”
Ares stood before her now, already seated, the car in motion. Aphrodite looked around, startled.
“When did…?”
“You were sitting there for quite a while, lost in your thoughts. Did that insolent punk do something to you?”
“No. Not him,” she whispered. “Katie can’t come back now.”
The moment Ares heard the name, his face soured.
“I agree with that.”
Aphrodite didn’t hear him.
Why did her daughter’s fate have to be intertwined with that boy? Nothing personal against Percy Jackson—but her girl already had enough troubles in her life…
(O)
“There is one gift I want, however,” he went on. “Will you promise to grant my wish?”
Zeus considered this for a moment.
“If it is within our power…” he replied.
“It is. And it isn’t even difficult. But I want you to swear it by the River Styx.”
“What?” Dionysus shouted. “You don’t trust us?”
“Someone once explained to me,” he said, looking at Hades, “that it’s always wise to secure a solemn oath.”
Hades shrugged.
“Guilty.”
“Very well,” Zeus growled. “On behalf of the council, we swear by the River Styx to grant your reasonable request, provided it lies within our power.”
Aphrodite, like the other gods, nodded and murmured her oath to fulfill the wish. At once, a peal of thunder echoed through the throne room. The deal was sealed.
“From now on, I want you to properly acknowledge the children of the gods,” he said. “All children… of all gods.”
The Olympians shifted uneasily.
“Percy,” Poseidon said tensely. Aphrodite felt her heart race at what that wish implied. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Kronos couldn’t have risen up without the help of countless demigods who felt abandoned by their parents,” Percy explained. “They were angry, full of resentment—and they had reasons.”
Zeus looked ready to breathe fire.
“You dare accuse—”
“No more unclaimed children,” Percy Jackson’s voice echoed in Aphrodite’s mind. “I want you to promise that you will acknowledge your children—all of your demigod children—when they turn thirteen. None of them will be left to fend for themselves in the world or abandoned to monsters. They will be claimed and brought to camp to receive proper training and a chance to survive.”
Katherine was already fifteen. In a few months, she would turn sixteen.
“Now hold on just a second,” Apollo cut in, but Percy Jackson didn’t give him the chance.
“And the minor gods,” he continued. “Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe—they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn’t be looked down on. Calypso and the other peaceful offspring of the Titans also deserve forgiveness. And Hades—”
“Are you saying I’m a ‘minor god’?” Hades roared.
“No, my lord,” Percy said quickly. “But your children shouldn’t be cast aside. They should have their own cabin at camp. Nico’s experience proved that. There should never again be unclaimed demigods crammed into Hermes’s cabin, wondering who their parents are. From now on, they’ll have their own cabins—one for every god, without exception. And the pact of the Big Three is over. It didn’t work anyway. You must stop trying to rid yourselves of powerful demigods. On the contrary, they will be accepted and trained as they should be. All children of the gods will be welcomed and treated with respect. That is my wish.”
Aphrodite gripped the arms of her throne. Her knuckles were white with the pressure.
Zeus snorted. For a brief moment, however, she saw him glance at her accusingly. Aphrodite didn’t have the strength to meet his gaze—or to feel offended. He, too, had broken a pact, just as she had. He had no right to judge her.
“Anything else?”
“Percy,” Poseidon said. “You’re asking too much. You’re overreaching.”
“You must honor your oath,” Percy replied solemnly. “All of you.”
He received a barrage of hard stares, but Aphrodite did the opposite—she avoided his eyes. She already knew what she would see there: her daughter, and her fate bound ever more tightly to that son of Poseidon, closer now, more real.
Surprisingly, it was Athena who spoke up.
“The boy is right. We have been careless in neglecting our children. It was a strategic weakness, as this war has proven, and it very nearly led to our destruction. Percy Jackson, I had my doubts about you—but perhaps…” She glanced at Annabeth and then continued, as if the words were unpleasant to say, “perhaps I was mistaken. I propose that we accept the boy’s plan.”
And that settled it. If the infuriating Athena agreed, there was little to be done. Zeus always listened to her—goddess of wisdom and all that, blah, blah, blah.
“Hmph,” Zeus muttered. “A mere mortal telling us what to do… Still, I suppose—”
“All those in favor,” Hermes said.
Every god raised a hand. The goddess of love was the last to do so, hesitating. Hephaestus, seated across from her, looked at her with sympathy. Almost none of the gods knew about Katherine. Ares thought of her as just another daughter, born of a father who had stolen Aphrodite’s attention for far too long. Hades, Poseidon, Zeus, and Hephaestus were the only ones who knew the truth—the first because of the second, Zeus because he was king of the gods, and Hephaestus because, despite all the trouble between them, he and Aphrodite had forged a strong friendship over time. He listened. He always had.
“Well… thank you,” he murmured.
He turned away, but before he could take two steps, Poseidon shouted:
“Honor guard!”
The Cyclopes stepped forward and formed two rows from the thrones to the doorway—a corridor for him to walk through as he departed. They snapped to attention.
“Salve, Perseus Jackson!” Tyson cried. “Hero of Olympus… and my big brother!”