Annabeth began her morning by killing a dove. The animal was sacred to Aphrodite and Annabeth used its blood to purify the altar. Devotees of the goddess watched as she completed the ritual. It was early morning, but the summer sun was already causing the back of Annabeth's neck to sweat. At least the breeze that blew in from Hellespont and brought with it the salty tang of the sea, kept it from being unbearably hot.

      Next, Annabeth entered the temple. She hoisted the marble statue of Aphrodite up. She led the procession forward. Her friend, Thalia, carried the image of Peitho, the goddess of persuasion. As the procession made its made down to the seashore, they chanted hymns to the goddesses. The devotees were a mixture of priests, priestesses, and laypeople of all backgrounds.

      The sound of waves lapping against the shore intensified as they drew closer to the sea. Annabeth was the first to reach the edge where the soil gave way to the salty sea. The water was relatively clear and a light blue hue not dissimilar from the sky. The chanting died out and the sound of the waves and the swirling wind filled Annabeth's ears. "Today, on Aphrodisia," Annabeth said. "We honor the lady of doves. She is the one who grants us love, she blesses the world with beauty, and she ensues us with passion."

     Annabeth took another step forward so that the water tickled her toes. She took another step forward, and the water was now up to her ankles. "Today we purify the goddess' image to honor her," Annabeth continued.

    She stepped further from the shore, the water getting deeper and deeper, until it was up to her chest. She'd been carrying the statue high as she entered the sea, but she now lowered it and, keeping her hands firmly on it, dunked the image into the sea water to purify it. To her left, Thalia was doing the same thing with the image of Peitho.

Annabeth lifted the statue and headed back for the shore. Rivulets of water streamed off of the statue, its surface newly cleansed of dust. Her garments were wet and clung to her as she stepped ashore. Water dripped down from her sopping clothes, spraying the sandy shore.

The procession returned to the temple. Her wet clothes had a cooling effect, but Annabeth knew they'd be dry by the time it got very hot. Then again, she wouldn't be outside then, either. They restored the images to their usual places in temple and Annabeth presided over the altar as devotees offered sacrifices to the goddess.

It was forbidden on Aphrodisia to spill blood once the altar had been cleansed. Instead of offering goats or cattle, people offered flowers or incense. Annabeth enjoyed helping people honor the goddess. She preferred this role over Octavian's any day. Here, she got to watch incense burn and enjoy its sweet, heady scent waft through the air.

After she'd assisted people with making sacrifices, Annabeth noticed there were a lot fewer people there. She blinked, happy to see some of her friends were still there. Piper was braiding Silena's hair. Hazel was using a stick to sketch in the dust path leading to the temple. Thalia and Reyna were playing a game of knuckle bones. Thalia looked up as Annabeth approached her. "Well, the crowds are gone. You know what that means."

"Flower garlanding!" Silena said, bouncing up.

Piper sighed. "Silena, you're going to have to sit still or I'll never finish braiding your hair."

"Oops," Silena said.

Annabeth smiled. It was great to be with her friends. As they'd gotten older, it was more and more difficult to meet up. It had already been hard enough as girls who weren't supposed to go outside much, but now they only really saw each other at festivals or temples. Annabeth and Thalia were perpetually busy with their priestly duties and Silena had married a little over a year ago. She didn't have any children yet, but she was busy enough with running a household.

    Once Piper was finished braiding Silena's hair, the young women entered the temple, each carrying as many flowers as they could. There were fragrant roses, white lilies, yellow narcissus, purple iris, blooming hyacinth, delicate larkspur, pink peonies, red and white carnations, blossoming violets, elegant lotus, and flowers Annabeth didn't know the name of. Their sweet fragrances jumbled into the air, lighter than the heady scent of incense, but just as noticeable.

      Once they'd brought the flowers inside the temple, they began to make garlands. "How are things going with Beckendorf?" Annabeth asked Silena.

    The ox-eyed girl smiled. "He's a great man," she said.

     "What's it like being married?" Annabeth asked. "I mean, how is it different than before?"

     Silena paused and considered this. "I feel more respected now. Like, I run my own household, so I get to make more decisions. Sure, my husband is the one I speak to, but he gives me pretty free rein. He's a gentle man."

      "Sounds like someone's marriage was blessed by Aphrodite," Piper teased.

    Silena blushed. "I sure am lucky."

     Reyna snorted. "You are. Guess who my father wants me to marry?"

    "Who?" Annabeth asked.

      "Octavian!" Reyna said, spitting out his name.

       "No!" Annabeth and Thalia said.

        "You're joking, right?" Hazel asked. "Please tell me you're joking."

     Reyna shook her head. "I wish I was not. My father invited him over two nights ago and I overheard them talking about my dowry."

     "Hopefully it will fall through," Annabeth said.

     Hazel nodded vigorously and everyone grunted in agreement. "You know, by the end of the year we may all be matrons," Thalia joked.

     "You're not a matron," Annabeth disagreed.

     Thalia raised an eyebrow. "A widow — a matron without a husband. That is what I am."

    She sighed. "But men are not everything in life even if they think so. There is so much more that I wish . . . If I'd been born a man, I'd have more freedom."

     "I'd fight in a war," Reyna said, her eyes glowing.

       "I'd ride horses," Hazel chimed in.

        "I'd be a famous architect," Annabeth said.

       "I'd not have to worry about wearing powder and kohl," Piper piped up.

    They all laughed, but there was a sadness there because they knew how much of their life was decided at their birth.