[Third Person’s PoV]

Lucian and the others waited around, studying the statues that surrounded them.

“Don’t you think these look a little too realistic?” Percy asked as he examined one, poking it as if expecting it to come alive.

Annabeth’s eyes widened at Percy’s comment, and she quickly turned to Lucian.

Lucian noticed her gaze and put a finger to his lips.

‘He already figured out who she is… but why isn’t he saying anything? And why does he want me to keep quiet?’ Annabeth thought, nodding subtly to him, deciding to see what he was planning.

*Crash!*

They all turned sharply toward the sound, seeing Clarisse standing over a pile of broken rubble, her hands clasped in front of her with a stunned expression.

“Uh, they’re quite fragile, aren’t they?” she said quietly.

“Nice going, Clarisse. You’re about to get us kicked out by the one person who offered us free food,” Percy said, his tone dripping with irritation and sarcasm.

“It was an accident! I didn’t expect them to be so fragile!” Clarisse shouted defensively.

A woman with pink hair peeked her head out from the kitchen. “Are you children alright?”

Clarisse looked at her apologetically. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to break one of your statues—it was an accident!”

“Did you get hurt?”

“Uh… no, I’m fine… We’ll pay you for the damages.”

The woman giggled, waving her off. “Oh, don’t worry about it. They’re mostly old and not particularly valuable,” she said, shaking her head before disappearing back into the kitchen.

“She seems nice…” Thalia muttered, lowering her guard slightly after the exchange.

“This is all your fault, fish breath,” Clarisse said, glaring at Percy.

“How the hell is this my fault!? Are you seriously going to blame every single bad thing that happens on me?” Percy retorted, looking at Clarisse as if she were out of her mind.

“You’re damn right I am! If you hadn’t mentioned how realistic they look, I wouldn’t have touched them. So yeah, it’s your fault!”

“I’m amazed at how your tiny brain managed to come up with that reasoning,” Percy said, slow-clapping in mock admiration.

“I’ll show you who has a tiny brain, you fish-smelling bastard!” Clarisse snapped, rolling up her sleeve.

Before things could escalate, Lucian’s shadow moved and restrained them. “Behave, you two. We are guests here and should be mindful and respectful in a place where we’re welcomed,” Lucian reprimanded.

Annabeth and Thalia exchanged confused glances. ‘What the hell is he on about?’ they both thought.

An idea suddenly formed in Lucian’s mind. “I’ll be right back. I’ll see if she needs help in the kitchen,” he said, walking away as his shadow dissolved from around them.

Annabeth and Thalia scooted over to the side, away from the others. “Alright, what the hell is up with Lucian? Why is he acting like this all of a sudden?” Thalia asked.

“My best guess… he’s totally charmed by her,” Annabeth replied, biting her thumb in thought.

“What? She’s a charmer or something? Then we better help him! I thought Lucian had some resistance to mental attacks?”

Annabeth stopped Thalia from moving. “I didn’t mean it in the magical sense. I meant in a natural, normal way… which is saying something, since Lucian isn’t the type to be charmed.”

…

“Hello, do you need any help?” Lucian asked as he popped into the kitchen.

He saw the woman rapidly chopping meat while vegetables waited off to the side.

She turned toward him at the sound of his voice and shook her head. “I’m fine, thanks. You should be with your friends resting—you all look like you’ve had quite the adventure.”

Lucian ignored her words and began washing his hands. “I absolutely love cooking, don’t worry.”

Before she could protest, Lucian grabbed one of the knives and started chopping the vegetables, helping her prepare the meal.

The woman looked at Lucian’s brazen actions and sighed, shaking her head in exasperation before returning to her own work.

“So, how do you know my mother, Medusa?” Lucian asked casually.

Medusa froze mid-cut and snapped her head toward him, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?” she asked in surprise.

Lucian looked at her in confusion. “What? It’s a simple question,” he shrugged.

“One, I don’t even know your name, kid, much less your mother. And two—you figured it out already, huh…”

“Damn, I didn’t introduce myself… Anyway, the name’s Lucian Blackheart,” Lucian said, stretching out his hand toward her.

“Medusa… which you already knew,” Medusa replied awkwardly, shaking his hand. “Even after knowing who I am, you don’t seem scared… Most demigods would have attacked me the moment they heard my name. But you don’t seem fazed at all.”

“Someone who knows my mother can’t be a bad person,” Lucian said with a shrug.

“Kid… Lucian… I don’t know who your mother is,” Medusa said with a straight expression.

Lucian turned toward her, resting his chin on the back of his hands. “Of course you do—I look just like her! It’s where I get my good looks from.”

Medusa narrowed her eyes, studying his face. She grabbed it roughly, squishing his cheeks as she moved it around. Suddenly, recognition flashed in her eyes as an image of a woman began to overlap, and she gasped. “No way! You’re Medea’s boy!”

“Guilty as charged,” Lucian mumbled, his cheeks still squished.

Medusa’s expression softened slightly, but then her eyes darkened. Lucian groaned in pain as she applied more pressure. “She wasn’t taken advantage of, was she? Being that you’re a demigod, that means she must have been with a god.”

“You’re kinda hurting me… My mother loves me very much, and she wouldn’t appreciate you doing that…” Lucian said awkwardly.

“Oh goodness, I’m sorry. My emotions got the better of me,” she said, a bit apologetic, as she released him, noticing how he rubbed his jaw.

Her expression quickly turned serious again. “So, was she?”

“No, it was consensual…” Lucian replied, dropping to his hands and knees, devastated. “Please, don’t ask me more questions about my conception. I’ve already been traumatized…”

“I see…” Medusa nodded, her tone thoughtful. “And I take it she must have told you about me, then?”

“Actually, no,” Lucian admitted, getting up and resuming to his prep work. “That’s why I asked how you know my mother. All she ever said about you was to ignore the stories people tell about you. She told me you’re a strong woman who’s faced a lot of injustice, and that if I ever got to meet you, I should be kind…”

Medusa’s stern expression softened into a small smile as she turned back to her cooking. “So then, how did you know I knew your mother?”

“Your glasses…” Lucian said, pulling out his own pair of glasses from his shadow and showing it to her. “I recognize my mother’s handiwork anywhere. She made a pair for me, too.”

“Eh? Really?” Medusa asked, giving him a slightly puzzled look.

“I’m kinda joking, kinda not,” Lucian said with a shrug. “It’s partly because of the glasses, but I can also sense her magic in them. She made them for you, didn’t she? My best guess is they’re to suppress your curse. Since your curse is strongest in your eyes, she must have enchanted the glasses to suppress it enough for you to appear normal. But when you take them off, the curse returns in full force, and you revert to the way you’re described in the myths.”

Medusa chuckled, impressed. “If you can guess all that just by sensing her magic, then you’re definitely her son. How has she been, anyway?”

“She’s dead,” Lucian replied flatly, as he continued chopping vegetables, pushing them to the side with a quiet efficiency.

“What!? But that’s impossible…” Medusa stared at Lucian in shock, but the look in his eyes confirmed the truth.

“I see… That must have been really hard for you,” she said sympathetically.

Lucian just shrugged. “At first, yeah. But now, it’s not so bad. Thanks to who my father is, I have the privilege of seeing her regularly in the Underworld.”

Medusa turned to him, her eyes widening. “So you’re telling me Medea and Hades—”

Lucian dropped back to the ground, covering his ears. “Please, I told you I don’t want to talk about my conception!”

“What? What’s so bad about it?” Medusa asked, her curiosity piqued.

Lucian began to softly cry. “I… I… I was practically the result of a threesome…” he admitted choking out a sob.

“Phttt—Hahahahahahaha!!” Medusa couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Anyone walking into the kitchen would have been greeted by the bizarre sight of a young boy crying on the floor while a woman laughed maniacally above him.

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