An Illegitimate Request

                                    

                                          
       The wedding was held in front of the chapel. Chiron stood at the head and the villagers in attendance gathered in a semi-circle to greet the bride and the groom. They were supposed to be arriving soon. The bride's mother, Demeter, folded her arms over her chest. "He's late," she said. "That knave! I curse the day he set eyes upon my seemly daughter."
                          
      "You're not the only one," Hermes, a travel king merchant, joked. 
                          
    Demeter shot him a scandalized look. Frank had the impression that Persephone would join a convent if Demeter had her way. "At least he's a farmer," Percy said, unable to surprise his roguish grin. "Weren't you saying how months behind the plow build character?"
                          
       Annabeth rolled her eyes, but many of the younger adults were smothering their laughter. "It didn't rub off properly on him," Demeter said with a sniff. 
                          
      "Pray thee, be calm," Chiron said. "The bride and the groom come to join in holy matrimony."
                          
      Hades and Persephone did indeed come, hand in hand, towards the parish priest. Hades was better groomed than Frank had ever seen him. His dark hair was freshly washed and his face shined with the handsomeness of happiness. Beside him, Persephone was a blooming flower, her pale cheeks colored like a damask rose. Frank had to admit they made a handsome couple.
                          
    Yet as they stride forward, Frank's eyes travelled to the radiant figure of Hazel. Her curly hair was braided and her face looked like the pictures Frank had seen of princesses. He caught her eye and they both looked away, blushing. Frank felt a curious sensation in his chest as if his heart were a fluttering butterfly. He wondered what was the cause of such a symptom and what was the cure?
                          
       Persephone and Hades stopped a foot before Chiron. The elderly priest was smiling slightly as he recited the marriage vows for the two. After the couple assented to marriage, Chiron base them to kiss, which they did swiftly. A stilted cheer rose from the crowd. "And now, you may all enjoy the sweet buns we are serving today!" Hades announced. 
                          
     A more forceful cheer rose. Few were happy with the marriage, but no one would turn down free food — least of all sweets. The semi-circle broke into a crowd and Frank found himself looking futilely for Hazel. Surely with his height he should find it easy to find her among this mass of people?
                          
    There she was! Frank pressed forward, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. He had nearly reached her when Octavian blocked his path. Frank had never been less pleased to see the pale-faced man. Octavian came from a family of candlemakers going back generations and seemed to think that the fact his great-great-great grandparents  smelled as strongly of tallow as he did made him royalty. "I have a request," Octavian said. 
                          
     Frank bit back a curse. Octavian was tall — not as quite as tall as Frank, but still tall. He didn't look like much, but Frank knew not to cross him. He'd been looking to become the leader of the candlemakers' guild for years and there were rumors (vehemently denied by him) that he'd even trafficked with sorcerers. "A wedding is not the time to make a business request," Frank said. 
                          
    Octavian's blue eyes sparkled humorously. "Then it's a good thing this request is not merely financial. I know you've taken an interest in Hazel."
                          
    Frank colored. What he so transparent? Octavian's lip curled into a mocking reflection of a smile. "So it's true," he said. "The miller has fallen for the witch's daughter."
                          
      "Don't call her that!" Frank said. 
                          
      "It's true," Octavian said, smiling so that he revealed his bone-white teeth. 
                          
      "You're wrong," Frank retorted. "She's a good person!"
                          
      He hadn't really thought about it, but Octavian's mocking words had opened a part of his heart that he'd kept hidden away for later like wheat stored to sustain a family in late winter. "I am only asking because I worry about you," Octavian said, his tone oily. "Hazel may have a pretty face, but we all know her birth was sinful."
                          
     Frank had to stop himself from snorting. The only things Octavian cared about were prestige and power. But still: what did he want with Hazel? Octavian was right: Hazel was the illegitimate daughter of a poor farmer and a suspected witch. Why should Octavian be attacking her? She was no threat to him? Unless . . . Frank smiled. "You want something from me?"
                          
     Octavian raised a disdainful eyebrow. "Well, I have an idea, Frank, that can make us as wealthy as kings. If you would care to discuss it we could—"
                          
      "I'm not interested in breaking the law," Frank replied.
                          
    Octavian gnashed his teeth. "Think of it as bending the rules."
                          
      "Cool phrase," Frank said, "still immoral."
                          
       "Are you really so virtuous or are you just daft?" Octavian asked. "I have a proposition to make and I think you'll be wanting to hear it."
                          
     Frank gritted his teeth. "Why?"
                          
     Octavian's lips curved into a taut smile. "Because if you don't, many people will suffer, including Hazel."

     Frank's palms felt sweaty. "I'm listening."
                          
     "Not here," Octavian said. "Follow me."
                          
       Instead of enjoying the hot buns or spending time with Hazel, Frank slunk out of the festivities. Octavian led him away from the church and to his own house. It was empty and the only window curtained. Octavian lit a candle and the light bounced off his face, making him look more eerie than ever. Octavian pulled out a piece of parchment that shone with black ink. "This is the contract," he said, handing it to Frank.
                          
      Frank didn't pick up the quill. "I need to know what I'm signing."
                          
      "It's an agreement," Octavian said, "a binding contract stating that you will follow through on my plan. We'll buy up goods from the next merchant ship that arrives and sell it to Lord Dare at high prices. I'll split the money evenly between the two of us."
                          
      "That won't work," Frank said. "The Lord has a retinue that goes there first."

     "We'll ambush them," Octavian smiled. "Now sign this or Hazel will suffer."
                          
    Frank couldn't bear the idea of that happening, so he bent over and scrawled his name in ink, feeling as if he had agreed to sell his soul to the devil.