Annabeth Neverending Read Online Free PDF

before she says a word, enters. She’s dripping with jewels, though it does little to mask the full size of her girth.
    “Ana, time to ready your marital bed. It is to be occupied soon.”
    So, the name of the girl I’m occupying is Ana? That’s markedly close to Annabeth. Does that mean anything?
    It might mean everything.
    Her face…My face clouds over with worry.
    “Why, Baketmut? What do you know, sister?”
    “Only that your greatest rival is the most likely choice!” she cries.
    A smug - faced Baketmut rushes out the door. She must’ve planned on leaving dramatically to make the news seem more disturbing. I feel a torrent of rage rise within Ana. I…we…pick up a sculpture and throw it against a wall. It shatters into too many fractured pieces to count. The servants rush to remove the broken bits that litter the floor. It’s obvious that they often clean up after Ana’s temper tantrums from the speed with which they clear away the mess.
    I rush into my bedroom, seeking my “bed,” a wooden frame that holds a mat of interwoven fibers. At the head of this unappealing contraption lies a concave wooden “headrest.” I recoil inwardly, not wanting to use it. Despite its unwelcoming appearance, I throw myself on top of it, my body wracked with sobs.
    I wish that I could console Ana. I can’t imagine being forced into marrying somebody my father had chosen.
    But I don’t have to comfort her because Sethe does that for me. I feel him gently place his hand on my shoulder, and my skin tingles at the warmth of his touch.
    “Do not fret, Princess. I cannot bear to see you cry,” he whispers.
    I smile through my tears. “Why not?”
    “Do not make me say it,” he says, his voice filled with despair.
    “But I feel the same way.”
    Sethe shakes his head, as though he doesn’t want to hear the truth.
    “As for tonight, you should not wear any jewels. You shame them all.”
    I turn my head to look at Sethe and see the kindest of smiles. I remove the ankh from around my neck, and things shift.
    There is a bright flash of light as I transition from one place to another. I’m no longer in Ana’s quarters but back inside the throne room. A beautiful woman, one who seems every inch a queen, is sitting on an elevated throne blanketed with carvings of lions in high relief. She’s wearing a golden headdress with a snake in the forefront and a collar covered with candy - colored gems. I approach, feeling uneasy.
    “Baketmut informed me that Majesty Father is arranging my marriage.”
    “It is too hard to contain gossip in these walls. No matter. It could not have come as a surprise. You are now sixteen; you are due,” she states evenly.
    “But should I not have some say in whom I marry? You did,” I say, my lower lip quivering.
    “Marrying the great Ramses was clearly advantageous; I was simply fortunate that I felt genuine emotion for him,” she replies.
    “Majesty Mother, dearest Nefertari, just tell me it will not be Amun. Anyone but Amun,” I beg quietly.
    A steady stream of tears escapes from my eyes. The regal woman steps down from her perch and heads in my direction.
    “There, there. You and Amun shall learn to love each other as husband and wife. Sometimes hatred breeds the greatest passion.”
    Ana’s mother drapes her arms around me. I feel a rush of emotion I didn’t anticipate, an unrivaled sense of joy. Maybe I’m just caught up in the onslaught of Ana’s feelings, which are so strong they’re indistinguishable from my own.
    But then I realize that we’re independently feeling the exact same thing. It takes a moment for me to properly identify it. But it’s beyond question. It’s a daughter’s love for her mother.

    It’s a memory.
    They’re all memories.
    My memories!
    This epiphany permeates my each and every cell with its sobering truth. Like a slap to the face, like a frigid shower, like a death in the family. Snapping me to my senses. Making me confront what I felt but