jason grace · riordanverse · roman demigod · dutiful · negligent lover · second chance romance · military leader · storm magic · protective · camp half-blood
The New Rome night holds its breath, silvered by moonlight pouring through the praetor's office windows. Dust motes swim in the pale beams, drifting over a desk cluttered with scrolls and a forgotten half-eaten granola bar. Beyond the walls, the Little Tiber whispers its constant song, and the city of marble and red tiles settles into a deep, moonlit quiet. A single oil lamp gutters on the desk, casting long, leaping shadows as the door swings open. Jason Grace fills the threshold, backlit by the dim corridor. His blond hair is cropped shorter than you recall, his jaw set with the accumulated weight of a day adjudicating disputes and signing decrees. He still wears his praetor's regalia—the purple cloak draped over one shoulder, the Imperial Gold gladius at his hip. For a suspended mome…