Hi guys I'm finally back! Ready for another slowly posted fanfic? I was going to start this weeks and weeks ago, but I was being lazy. But chapter one is here now, so yay!

This is actually a rewrite of my first fanfic, Betrothed to the Wrong Person. It had okay writing, but it was really inaccurate, unrealistic, and the plot was uneven. And I've done a lot of writing before I went onto this website, so it really didn't have enough effort. I made myself finish it because I don't like incomplete stories, but I did promise my readers a rewrite. And I've eventually gotten to it.

This plot is pretty different from my old one. So is most of the setting. And of course, the writing is way better.

Anyways, enjoy!

Annabeth lightly pushed her chair in, lifted her heavy skirts, and stepped towards the door. Then Tutor Parelli abruptly called her back.

She spun around, lace skimming her ankles. The tutor never called for her. Her younger sisters, maybe. But not Annabeth.

Lifting her chin, she strode forward, hiding her nervousness beneath her impassive expression. When she arrived before the tutor's desk, she daintily dropped her skirts, the thick white petticoats sliding down against her stockinged legs and flowing across the marble floor.

"Yes, Tutor Parelli?" She folded her gloved hands above her abdomen.

The elderly man smiled wanly up at her. He was slight, like a reed, with a shock of salt-and-pepper hair. His thick-rimmed glasses seemed intelligent and familiar at the same time. While he acted distant and cold, sometimes he displayed rare bursts of emotion. Like now, when his eyes shone softly. Annabeth," he murmured, gazing up at her sadly. "Our lessons are over now."

She dipped her chin in a nod. "Yes, sir." Inside, her head raced, trying to uncover the reason for this.

His hand slid across the table, nearing hers. Annabeth recognized the gesture as fatherly. "You're my star student. Even as a lady, you've done so well."

His praise warmed Annabeth's heart. She knew that she was fortunate to get such an extensive education. And normal ladies could never become as smart as her. But intelligence was an asset to her family name, and she strived to uphold it.

"Thank you, Tutor Parelli," her voice rose slightly in gratitude.

"No need to thank me. Soon, Annabeth, you will enter society. It's a hard place to navigate, especially for you, with all that knowledge hidden under the surface," he said somberly. "Find a place that will accept all of you. Don't push any of it away."

Annabeth internally recoiled at how informal he was being. Tutor Parelli had barely spoken to her before. His words remained sharp inside her brain. "Yes, Tutor," she replied obediently.

"Don't forget. You may leave now." Tutor Parelli pushed up his glasses and gave her one last melancholy look. "I'll miss you," he added quietly.

Startled, Annabeth's curtsy hitched. She quickly straightened and answered politely, "As will I." Though she wished to hurry, she went out of the room as gracefully as ever, her mind whirling. Out in the hallway, she almost collided into her butler.

Annabeth flushed in embarrassment, clutching her reticule. "Apologies," she said the same time as the butler exclaimed, "Miss Chase!"

Annabeth cleared her throat softly. "Yes?"

The butler, Williamson, neatly folded his hands before speaking. "Miss McLean is waiting outside for your afternoon tea."

The corners of Annabeth's mouth tugged up in barely masked excitement. "Allow her to come in."

Williamson nodded sharply. "Follow me, then."

They went down to the front hall and Williamson pulled open the main doors, revealing a heavily covered Piper McLean.

"Good afternoon, Annabeth," Piper greeted with a barely masked glint in her multicolored eyes. They had to act formal in front of everyone, but when by themselves in the sitting room they were like little kids.

"Good afternoon to you too, Piper." She hugged her friend, hiding her own inflaming grin. Annabeth took Piper's gloved hand between hers, scrutinizing her outfit. Piper was wearing a dark navy gown with a ribbon-hemmed sleeves, per usual, but also a cotton shrug along and a large fur cloak that engulfed her small frame.

"That's a lot of layers," she commented softly as they followed Williamson to the sitting room.

Piper shook her head. "Mother said brown fur was in style." Her voiced dropped lower. "In autumn."

A giggle escaped Annabeth. She tried to make the sound dainty. "But why not have, perhaps, Silena wear the it?"

Piper shook her head again in irritation. "My image matters more now since the Season is so close," she said with slight resentment.

Annabeth sympathized. The Season was when suitors started asking out-or courting-ladies. Everyone was tense beforehand, even her own no-nonsense mother. "Everyone knows you're a stylish lady. Who would ever deny an Aphrodite daughter that?"

"Fur is quite important," she said jokingly. "I can't miss out on it."

"No, or the aristocracy would assume you were adopted!" Annabeth joked along.

Williamson cleared his throat, unfazed by the girls' conversation. He held out an arm to the sitting room, where a stocky adolescent servant boy stood at attention. "Here you are," he told them.

Annabeth curtsied in thanks and then the two ladies were ushered inside by the servant boy. A small fire was already lit inside the large stone fireplace, and two thick blankets were draped across the upholstered sofa. There was a tall window on the far wall, the drapes secured with braided ropes, exposing warm, hazy afternoon light.

The two girls stepped across the thick, Persian carpet and settled comfortably onto the couch. The servant boy excused himself to get the tea. Piper stared after him before turning to Annabeth with a grin.

"I can't wait for the suitors to come a-courting," she smirked unabashedly.

Annabeth eyed her friend. "You know our suitors would be far older than that boy." Men entered the courting system three to four years later than girls, who were teenage. "Besides, why would you want to court him?"

That wasn't a comment on the servant boy's class, for many soft-hearted girls who read too many romances dream of a muscular stable boy or whatever sweeping them off their feet and into the tranquil country. Instead, she was considering what good qualities the boy had.

Piper huffed. "He was a rather handsome person, Annabeth. You just didn't notice. Pity that he wasn't born into a wealthy family and just a few years older." Ah, right. Piper preferred families that matched her own. Those dreamy-eyed girls were still all the same to Annabeth.

"Handsome? His face was rather spotty, if I recalled correctly." She shook her head. "Ladies shouldn't be discussing these things."

The servant boy picked that moment to knock on the door. They burst into giggles. Annabeth, taking a breath, allowed him to come in. He rolled a delicate sliver-rimmed tea cart into the room, the shelves laden with miniature pastries and an elegant tea set. Like every other set in the household, the creamy porcelain was painted with proud owls, their beady gazes knowing and soul-searching. As the servant boy laid out the tea, Annabeth's eyes snagged on the bright olive branches circling the saucers.

Mother got a new tea set. For future meeting with suitors, indefinitely. Even Mother cares about the Season, Annabeth mused.

The boy added cream and sugar to Piper's tea and a single sugar cube to Annabeth's before quietly leaving. Then there was silence except for the clinking of sliver spoons against teacups as the two girls each took a sip.

"I always love the tea here," Piper sighed happily. "All there is at home is floral tea, which Mother carefully analyzes the color of every time before drinking. Everything has to be aesthetically perfect in the Aphrodite household."

Annabeth set her cup on the brand-new saucers. "Ah, that is why you visit so often."

Her friend laughed. "Yes, of course. Your company could never match up to the treats here."

"Oh, I see," she replied in a pretend cold tone. "No, but the tea at the Demeter house is the nicest. They have imported tea from all over and the very best from England herself."

"And I wouldn't mind spending time with Katie and Miranda." These were the most important Demeter daughters, close friends to both of them. "Stoll is going to steal all of Katie's dances on the debut ball."

Annabeth laughed merrily. Travis Stoll, from the Hermes household, had an obvious affection towards Katie. They were close friends ever since they were kids, and everyone could tell they would get married once the Season was over. "I'm willing to bet that no other suitor will dare to approach Katie that night."

"Demeter would be horrified! I'm sure Katie would spare a few dances for some hopeful suitors. And Stoll would glare at them the whole time."

Annabeth picked up a flaky pastry from the dish. "I'm sure Connor would distract him by robbing some poor lady's reticule."

Piper grabbed her own pale pink purse warily. "I'm never letting go of mine, then."

"Oh, remember when Travis picked through Clarisse's reticule and found some very pointy things inside?"

Piper laughed loudly. "Oh yes, I don't know why he thought to touch an Ares' child's things. Clarisse did something extremely unladylike to him in public."

"And her father clapped," Annabeth recalled. "It was amusing but very inappropriate."

"Precisely why it was funny. I had no idea why Clarisse even bothered to carry a reticule until Travis went through it." Clarisse was the barest extreme of a lady. She wore breeches every now and then, never bothered with corsets, left her brown hair unpinned, and swore like a sailor. She was horrible, even for an Ares child. Mothers shielded their young children around her.

Piper leaned in, her ever-changing eyes glittering with mischief. "Do you remember anything from the big tea party at the Hermes house last spring?" Anything, of course, meant juicy gossip.

"Oh, not really." Actually, Annabeth remembered a lot. Every moment when a certain golden-haired Hermes child looked her way, every time he passed by, every time someone spoke up about him, she remembered vividly. But she wasn't going to tell Piper any of that.

Her friends folded her long, pretty fingers together. "Well, a much lesser-known child of Hermes appeared a lot in the events. He went on walks with the ladies, even gave a long toast."

Annabeth leaned back on the sofa. Piper would draw out information as long as she could. "Okay….?"

"Honestly, most people never noticed him before. And one my sisters told me he was quite handsome." Piper wiggled her eyebrows.

Annabeth resisted rolling her eyes. Being ironic was clever, being sarcastic was impudent. Mother had taught her that defining line long ago.

Anyhow, truthfully, Annabeth knew Piper didn't have flyaway crushes on servant boys or particular Hermes children. She was actually a believer in real, true love, but that was looked down upon in her house, so she acted as a flirt. Deep down, though, Annabeth believed her friend wasn't so flighty.

"I see. Now, no one in London will believe you're a lady if you keep moving your eyebrows." Annabeth sipped her tea. "Probably the boy in question, too."

Piper spread herself across her pillows with an annoyed expression. "You cut into my suspense, Beth! Allow me to continue, please. Do you know who he is?"

"Not at all."

"Sir Rodriguez, one of the slightly younger Hermes brothers. Do you know who that is?"

"Again, not at all."

Piper was obviously pleased at being the most informed. She smiled smugly. "Well, dear Annabeth, he's actually the assistant for managing international visitors with his father's business. And you know how many people from out of town visit London."

"Impressive." Annabeth stopped leaning back, because keeping her spine ruler-straight and tilting hurt. "Is he the most sought-after suitor in town?"

"My gossip hasn't ended, dear. He has a special lady in mind, who secretly likes him back."

"And who is that?" Annabeth lifted her cup to her lips, her eyes half-lidded in boredom at this idle gossip.

"Miss La Rue, Clarisse herself."

Annabeth, for all her poise, almost spat out her tea in surprise. She swallowed quickly and dabbed at her mouth with a kerchief. "What? Clarisse has an admirer? And she likes him too?" She could hardly imagine the muscular, breeches-wearing girl taking a moonlit stroll at night, hand-in-hand with a true gentleman.

Piper grinned with pleasure of sharing precious gossip. "Exactly. You should've seen the calling card she sent over to him. It was white, for goodness' sake. Not the color of blood!"

Calling cards didn't actually point to romance, they were just paper slips printed with a name and a picture, asking the receiver to send one in return as agreement for a visit. But the Ares house, as their symbol, would give a red card with a sharp-tusked boar. Annabeth could hardly guess where Clarisse found a white card. Ares kids weren't prone to have any papers.

"That is completely unbelievable. Are you sure that's correct?"

"Silena occasionally talks to Clarisse. Why, I have no idea."

Annabeth stared at a scone thoughtfully. "This Sir Rodriguez is one special person, being able to capture Clarisse's heart."

"Enough talk. We have something else to discuss." Piper smirked at her. "What are you hopes for your debut? A few dances from a certain Hermes child?"

Annabeth's cheeks automatically reddened. She fanned herself, trying to hide her face behind the lacy folds. "Maybe," she stuttered out. Images of a large, tanned hand reaching for hers, and a bright smile sprang into her mind.

"Maybe? I'm sure you'll spend all night fantasying about your dances and his name on your dance card and what he'll write on his invitation."

Annabeth shook her head. "I am not a silly flowerhead. I simply enjoy Luke's company. And I think he would make a good partner."

"Ah, yes. And you never think about your wedding, or how his proposal will go, and handsome he will look the coming evening." Piper's voice grew higher as she became more teasing.

"No," she said firmly, though of course she had.

She did think about Luke, probably too much. He was her childhood friend, someone she bonded with when their parents left them and their remaining parents gave them no attention. He was like her brother. They grew up, and they both changed, but the light inside him Annabeth could always see.

And he was a good suitor, too. Handsome, rich, charming-like his siblings, responsible-completely unlike his siblings. He cared, and Annabeth found that to be different about him, while he appreciated her intelligence. All this matched up.

"But I'll have to take dances from other suitors. Who knows, I could have some interesting conversations over this Season."

Both of them knew that the debut ball would change a lot.

Alright I'm done! Yay sleep! This was pretty fun to write. I think I could get a better handle on my information and descriptions and speech, but this isn't too bad. Wait for better stuff, please. Be patient.

To be clear, I don't ship Lukabeth. I think it was really sweet when they thought of one another as siblings and they fought on the streets together, and then everything shattered when Luke turned evil. And the ship itself never really happened. Annabeth got a crush on him right around the time he went over to the other side *ominous music* and Percy appeared *confetti shoots into air, party music, cheering*. Anyway, it could've been good, maybe, but Luke was pretty broken inside. Like all of Uncle Ricks' works, 'tis sad.

So yeah, this is the first chapter, another one will come next week. Not sure what day, I'm very slacker-y. Go to sleep, those with my time zone!

Au revoir,

Pride-and-loyalty