Hazel heard from Nyssa during a visit to the forge that Leo had signed on to be the blacksmith on board one of the royal triremes heading to Thessaloniki for Princess Annabeth's wedding. The Princess, along with several noble Athenian maidens, was to take an earlier ship than the rest of the royal retinue. She expressed a desire to visit the island of Delos, the sacred sanctuary of the God of the Sun, on her to way to Thessaloniki.

The sanctuary included a shrine called the Artemision, dedicated to the Maiden Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt, twin sister to the God of the Sun, where Princess Annabeth would leave her childhood doll as an offering.

On the morning after Dionysia, the Hermione, the smallest ship in the royal fleet, laden with only what was needed for the journey, set sail. Leo left without saying goodbye to Hazel. She did not even know of his departure until they day he left, when she stopped by the forge and heard the news from Nyssa.
Hazel could not help but feel like he had taken the job to get away from her.
At first, it seemed as though the Gods had blessed this voyage. The God of the Seas and the King of the Skies were both in a pleasant mood and the Maiden Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt sent a swift yet gentle wind to carry the Hermione to Delos. But all this changed as the day came to an end. Heavy, soot colored clouds started looming in the distance by the afternoon. By nightfall, a heavy rain beat down on the roof of Hazel's house. Ear-splitting claps of thunder kept her up all night, worrying about Leo and hoping that he had made it safely to Delos, which was only half a day's sail from Piraeus.
The rest of the royal fleet were to follow the Hermione the next day. By morning, all appeared to be well again: clear skies, calms seas, and brisk winds.
Hazel and Marie went with Frank to docks at Piraeus to wish him well. Marie rarely left the house but for this occasion, she made sure to look her best. She wore a crimson sheath dress called a kalasiris made from Egyptian linen. Her hair was arranged in braids woven with bronze rings. A pair of gold hoops hung from her earlobes.

Marie had spent the morning holding her bronze mirror carved with a scene of Helen and Paris and arranging her jewelry and hairdo.

She swaggered along the quayside of Piraeus Harbor as if she outranked Queen Athena herself.
The royal trireme was the largest and most elaborate ship on the quay. It was called the Niobe and featured a life sized marble statue of the Lydian queen clutching her only remaining child at its bow.

Blue tears were painted down Niobe's cheeks, a reference to how the boastful mother was turned into a rock formation from which her tears seeped through after all but one of her fourteen children were slain. Hazel had once painted a cistern which depicted this story.
Deep wine purple sails flapped over Niobe's head as the king, queen, their retinue, and all of their supplies and luggage were loaded onto the ship.
Hazel walked hand in hand with Frank, not wanting to take her eyes off of him.
He was so tall that she had to crane her as far as she could to look up at him. He needed to bend down in order to kiss her.
"I'll be back before you know it," he told her, his lips brushing against Hazel's curls. "You won't even have time to miss me."
"I miss you already," Hazel replied. She entwined her plump, dainty, little fingers with his large, thick, strong ones.
Frank kissed her and bowed to Marie before walking up the gangplank to join the other palace guards.

Over the following days, Hazel went into the Agora each afternoon to see if there were any news of the royal fleet. The Niobe had to stop in Skyros, a little more than half way through the trip, due to poor winds and stayed there overnight until the winds changed. It arrived in Thessaloniki late the next day. Hazel breathed a sigh of relief when she knew Frank had made it there safely and left an offering of burnt incense at the temple of the God of Messengers and Travelers in thanks.
No word of the Hermione reached Athens until five days after it set sail. Fishermen living in the Cyclades islands spotted a ship matching its description being blown off course during the storm. The ship's fate was confirmed when a bronze statue of a Spartan girl, which had adorned its bow, was found washed up on a beach in Mykonos.

All of Athens was plunged into grief when they heard their princess had been lost at sea. So young, so fair, and about to marry the prince she loved; it was a tragedy worthy of Sophocles. The citizens wailed and beat their breasts in sympathy with her unfortunate parents.
Only a small group of people gathered in a shabby, little forge near the Agora had any tears to shed for an insignificant blacksmith named Leo, who was also presumed dead.