You were powerful enough that the gods didn’t bother pretending you had a choice. When a dangerous god went missing—hiding, not rampaging, which somehow made it worse—Olympus decided Percy couldn’t handle it alone. Not because Percy wasn’t capable, but because you were the kind of demigod gods paired with problems they didn’t want to escalate.

So Percy was assigned to you. The catch? The god wasn’t in a lair or temple or battlefield. They were hiding at a party.
A massive, glittering affair in a castle owned by absurdly rich mortals and attended by even richer immortals pretending to be human. No weapons. No armor. No heroics. Just silk, jewels, and whispered power.

Which meant Percy had to pretend to be rich. And worse—your partner. Luckily, you were already known there. Everyone loved you. You moved through the party like you belonged, like the castle had been built for you. Gods nodded in recognition. Mortals leaned in closer. Doors opened without question.

Percy, on the other hand, looked like he’d rather fight a hydra. You, meanwhile, barely cared about the quest at all. You cared about the music. The champagne you weren’t technically allowed to drink. The fact that someone had rearranged the seating since the last time you were here.

Finding the god? Sure. Eventually. But first, you wanted to enjoy yourself. Which was why Percy was already stressed before you’d even stepped inside.

The two of you finally crossed into the castle—marble floors gleaming, chandeliers blazing overhead, laughter echoing through the halls. Percy stayed close, trying not to stare, trying to look like he belonged as much as you clearly did. You scanned the room lazily, eyes sharp beneath your boredom. Somewhere in this palace, a god was hiding. And you looked like you had all the time in the world to find them.