Annabeth was starting to feel left behind. Everyone she knew seemed to be getting married or becoming a mother right now. Silena's daughter Arete was already starting to crawl. Annabeth wanted to feel the quiet contentment Silena's eyes held when she gazed upon her daughter, but motherhood wasn't in Annabeth's future. Besides, she doubted she could be satisfied so easily.

Annabeth realized she had grown still like a statue. She shook her head to try to clear away her thoughts and began sweeping again. The temple of Aphrodite was fairly quiet today. Since Aphrodite presided over love, a lot of people brought their romantic woes with them. Annabeth had listened to stories of every sort of problem in a relationship: infidelity, falling out of love, jealousy, abuse, and a general lack of affection. Sometimes Annabeth even mediated between people. Today, however, only one person had come to make a hasty offering.

After she finished sweeping, she went to clean the altar. It was fairly clean, but she had little else to do, so she sponged it down. The altar was located outside of the temple, so the temple would not be tainted by spilled blood. The altar often became dusty with ash and on particularly busy days, it had to be cleaned several times.

The sound of sandal-clad footsteps made Annabeth look up. She saw a woman she didn't know with curly red hair. Her chiton and pallas were both red and finely woven. That and the gold necklace on the woman's pale throat signified her wealth. "Are you Annabeth?" the woman asked.

     Annabeth nodded. She noticed the woman's stiff shoulders slackening and a look of relief overcoming her features. "Percy told me to come here," she said. "He said you could help me."

    "You know Percy?" Annabeth asked.

    The woman nodded. "We were once betrothed."

     "So you're Rachel?" Annabeth asked.

      Rachel blinked in surprise. "Percy told you about me?"

    Annabeth tried to push down her own jealousy. Rachel was a comely woman with even features and emerald green eyes. Did Percy still wish he was going to marry her? Was she here because they were getting married? Then why had Percy told her he wished to marry her? Had he been lying and trying to lead her on? Annabeth told herself she didn't care and looked directly at Rachel. "How can I help you?"

           Rachel's expression was warier now, as if she had picked up Annabeth's feelings towards her. "My father betrothed me to a man I don't wish to marry."

      "Who is the man?" Annabeth asked.

      "Octavian," Rachel replied.

      Annabeth had to surpress a sigh of relief. Rachel was not betrothed to Percy again, but what if that was her goal? "And what do you have against marriage with this man?" Annabeth asked.

     Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Would you want to marry Octavian?"

Annabeth's expression made Rachel laugh. "My fathers favor him because he's wealthy, but I despise him. He's arrogant, cruel, and selfish. I would rather marry a viper than him."

"I can see your point," Annabeth said, "but what would you like me to do?"

"Could you tell my father the marriage is a bad idea?" Rachel asked. "I've tried telling him that, but he said it will make me happy."

"If he won't listen to you, why would he listen to me?" Annabeth pointed out. "Have you tried speaking with your mother? What does she think of all this?"

Rachel sighed. "That it's for the best. I'd have an easy life with servants looking after me, fine chitons to wear, and soft couches to sit on."

She stamped her foot. "I'm not a child, but that's all I'm ever expected to be — a creature with as much agency as a child. I don't want to spend my days having servants coif my hair and file my nails. I don't want to sit around doing nothing all day. I want to make art — not babies."

She sighed and looked to Annabeth again. "You're going to tell me to stop being so idealistic, aren't you?"

Annabeth shook her head. When she first met Rachel, she was jealous, but now she realized how alike the two of them were. Both had had to deal with fathers trying to decide their lives for them. "No," Annabeth answered. "You are being idealistic, but you're right — marriage isn't the only option for you."

    Annabeth's mind was working quickly. "Are you from Abydos then?"

    "Yes," Rachel said. "I took a boat here."

     She paused and looked around the altar. "I've never been here, may I look around?"

     "Of course," Annabeth said.

     Rachel seemed quite impressed by the stairs and the marble columns. She gasped when she saw the inner portion of the temple. "Who painted these?" she asked, staring wide-eyed at covered walls.

     Annabeth's lips curved upwards as she heard the appreciation in Rachel's voice. The temple was beautiful, if simple and mostly bare. The walls made up for that with paintings showing everything from the birth of Aphrodite from sea foam to the goddess riding in her chariots pulled by doves. Rachel viewed all of it through the eyes of someone who had grown up around art and had a deep appreciation of it.

"The walls were painted before my birth by a woman named Iris," Annabeth said. "Her husband was supposed to paint it, but he fell in soon after starting it and she finished the job. He recovered and it wasn't until later that people found out the truth."

Rachel smiled. "I wish I could be like Iris."

     Her eyes moved to the statue of Aphrodite and she walked towards it. She kneeled down and grasped the image's legs. "Cyprian goddess," she began, "look kindly upon your supplicant. My father wishes for me to be in a marriage that I cannot abide by. You yourself know the sorrows that come with an unwanted marriage. I place myself as your supplicant. O goddess, please protect me from the assault of marriage."
   
    When she finished speaking, she stood up. "You're now in the goddess' protection," Annabeth said. "As long as you stay on the temple grounds, no one should be able to force you to marry."