Annabeth’s Perspective
“What do you want, Luke?” I asked, my tone laced with exasperation. Luke was undeniably handsome, the kind that drew admiring glances from nearly every woman in town. But beneath the surface resided a self-absorbed arrogance that I found deeply irritating. He was a persistent nuisance, constantly seeking my attention, and stubbornly refusing to accept a clear rejection.
“You know what I want, Annie,” he said, a mocking edge to his voice. I despised when people condescended, particularly when it involved my hair color. As if being blond somehow equated to stupidity. The color of one's hair had absolutely no bearing on intelligence. I was, in fact, ten times the person he was.
“And every day, I give you the same answer, yet here we are,” I retorted. “I’ve told you a million times—it’s Annabeth, not Annie.”
“Why won’t you simply say yes to me? Do you know how many girls would *live* to be in your position? I am, after all, the best option for marriage in this little village.” He scanned my body with blatant appraisal. I anticipated where this was heading. My hand moved to the basket at my side, and I felt the familiar weight of my dagger against my fingers. I kept it concealed for moments precisely like this—to deter predators like Luke.
I unsheathed the blade, the steel gleaming in the sunlight. I pressed the point lightly against his throat, just enough to feel the skin give way. “Lay a finger on me, and I’ll ensure you’re the only nine-fingered man in this town. I doubt that would do much for your reputation.”
His face paled, and he nodded cautiously. I sheathed the dagger and returned it to the basket, resuming my walk with my head held high. I knew the threat meant nothing to him. He was convinced I was simply playing hard to get, that my resistance was merely a test of his persistence.
I yearned to escape this place, to be free from the leering gazes and the predatory advances of men like Luke, who saw me as nothing more than a body to be possessed. I did intend to marry someday, but not yet. I was fortunate that my father didn’t force my hand. He believed in marrying for love, not for advantage.
As I walked, I found myself lost in thought, imagining a life beyond these walls. I envisioned running away, embarking on an adventure of my own. But I always lacked the courage to pack a bag and simply go.
I returned home to find the house eerily silent. My father was nowhere to be found. I entered his study, and on his pillow, I found a note.
*Dear Annabeth,*
*I have important business to attend to in Athens. I won’t be back for five months. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I knew you’d insist on coming with me, and I didn’t want to worry you. I’ll be fine.*
*I love you very much.*
*-Fredrick Chase*
I couldn’t believe it. He’d left without a word. Five months—nearly half a year.
This was it. My chance. If he could disappear without saying goodbye, I could do the same. It was time to find my own adventure.