Wine and Poison Chapter 13 - Between Mentor and Apprentice

Over a month had passed since Lancion had entered Mount Cithaeron. 

 

Scylla was quite a reclusive old woman. 

 

After mentioning her intriguing ambition to kill a god, not a word was uttered on the subject. 

 

Lancion’s attempts to coax her into talking about the gods, if nothing else, had been unsuccessful.

 

Even as the steaming cooled, he remained intrigued by Scylla. 

 

Time passed like a stream, but Lancion was undeterred. It was fun to take his time and slowly tame Scylla.

 

Time didn’t matter to him, as he lived in eternity. The only thing that worried him was that she was so old, he wondered if she would die of natural causes before the fall.

 

Another worrisome thing was the manifestation of his long-standing condition, mania. 

 

A madness whose seeds were germinated and nurtured by Hera, and which not even Chimera could fully cure. 

 

As a result, he became a god who could not stay in one place. When his wanderlust was satisfied, he would wander off as if he had had enough.

 

Until then, Lancion decided to relax and enjoy the unexpected mountain fun.

 

“Please eat, Master.”

 

“…”

 

“I hope you like the food.”

 

Lancion grinned at Scylla, who was now sitting down quite naturally. It was the first time he’d ever called someone his master, but being a docile apprentice seemed to suit him surprisingly well.

 

Scylla’s lips twitched as she gripped the fork. Her voice was raspy.

 

“Are you sure this doesn’t mean you have to do that?”

 

“What?”

 

“You shouldn’t smile like that, lasciviously. It’s creepy.”

 

…Lascivious?

 

Dionysus’s smile faded.

 

Objectively, his voice was sweet enough to mesmerize anyone, regardless of gender. 

 

Aphrodite, the beautiful goddess, even grumbled, 

 

“When it comes to seduction, there’s no god like you. Many would throw themselves into the river Styx if it meant death by a smile.”

 

The corners of Dionysus’s mouth quirked up, never having heard such a crass word for his smile. If it weren’t for the fact that something was intriguing about it, he would have taken her for a crazy fellow right away….

 

“I won’t smile if it makes you uncomfortable.”

 

“Not really, but don’t laugh weirdly, like a kid with a bloodless head who learned weird things somewhere.”

 

So that’s what it means.

 

Dionysus was a little disgruntled.

 

Scylla snorted and looked down at her plate. Her wide eyes took in the bounty of the table. Her yellow irises sparkled feverishly.

 

At the sight of her face, Lancion relaxed. He leisurely picked up the goblet of water and brought it to his mouth. Too bad it wasn’t wine.

 

Come to think of it, he must have gotten some grape seeds from the sack vendor.

 

“What is this?”

 

Scylla’s fork wandered for a moment, unsure of what to touch on the lush, crisp plate, then dug into the golden, well-seared meat.

 

“It’s venison.”

 

“Venison?”

 

“Yes. It’s been aged for a long time, so it should be tender.”

 

As if overwhelmed by the thick meat, Scylla could not move her fork easily. Lancion worried about her old teeth. 

 

He had chosen venison because there was nothing like it to boost energy, but the meat was so fresh, that he wondered if it could be eaten with the teeth of an old woman.

 

Her aging digestive system was also a concern.

 

Although the meat had been aged as long as possible, it would be a shame if she lost a tooth while eating it.

 

Lancion took her plate, cut the meat into small pieces, and returned the plate to her. Scylla coughed awkwardly, as if his thoughtfulness was strange…

 

“That’s not necessary, thank you.”

 

“No, it’s what I’m supposed to do as an apprentice.”

 

“I don’t think apprentice is synonymous with servant.”

 

“That’s because you don’t know, Master. In the Temple of Apollon, the junior priests are extremely loyal to the senior priests, even when they’re not in a master-servant relationship.”

 

“…”

 

“Of course, you cannot compare their behavior to mine, for they do so in order to be promoted to a higher rank, while I serve my Master from the bottom of my heart.”

 

Lancion chuckled softly. 

 

Scylla looked away from him, uncomfortable with the unbearable situation. Taking a piece of the finely cut meat into her mouth, she chewed and squinted.

 

“It doesn’t smell fishy.”

 

Lancion smirked at the exclamation. His smirk softened.

 

“I was lucky enough to get the spices, Master, and figured you’d be concerned about the fishy odor. Next to it is a salad of tomatoes and basil, tossed with a mixture of greens. It’s fresh, so it should taste good.”

 

“Tomatoes? Basil? Where did you get that?”

 

Where did they come from? 

 

He’d borrowed the power of the nymphs to grow them.

 

“Yesterday, I was out for a while. I found an abandoned field.”

 

Scylla didn’t doubt it. She nodded, then popped a piece of meat into her mouth, not bothering to talk. 

 

Lancion didn’t touch his plate, but sipped his water and watched her reaction.

 

Her eyes widened slightly with each chew, and soon her throat was bobbing up and down vigorously. As soon as she swallowed, she brought her fork back to her plate. 

 

The corners of Lancion’s mouth curved up gently, in stark contrast to a month ago, when she’d been shoveling food into her mouth like she was eating to survive.

 

The food she was devouring took about two hours to prepare. It had taken about a week to cure the ingredients. 

 

It was refreshing, he thought, to see a woman who would kneel before him as if he’d handed her a pebble from the street as a gift. 

 

Only to be satisfied when he took the time and trouble to do something for her.

 

It’s a different kind of fun.

 

Like taming a wounded stray cat.

 

In Dionysus’s mind, Scylla had been transformed from an old, ugly, ferocious animal to a ferocious venomous snake to a whimpering stray cat.

 

Her long, white hair, her wrinkled skin, her fierce, glowing beastly eyes… she was still ugly.

 

“It’s delicious, but it’s over-salted.”

 

Scylla spat out as she quickly emptied her plate.

 

The thought of complaining after such a good meal flashed briefly through her mind, but Lancion replied gently.

 

“I’ll be careful next time, and since you’re eating so well, I’ll have to bring more meat than fish in the future.”

 

Scylla’s lips twitched. A small movement of her lips, then another.

 

“…Hmm, whatever.”

 

Still, that’s what stray cats are like.

 

An old, ugly stray cat.

 

Scylla’s daily routine has a regularity. She wakes up at dawn and travels around the mountain, checking her herb garden and gathering edible berries and wild fruits. 

 

Even after Lancion settles down in the hut, she often forages for food, as if she thinks that since Lancion does all the cooking, she should be the one to get the ingredients. It was her responsibility.

 

They tended to be of inferior quality to the ingredients Lancion obtained with the help of the nymphs, but Lancion let her do as she pleased. 

 

It was fun to see the embarrassment on her face when she realized how much of what she had brought was used in the dishes that made it to the table.

 

Scylla was more of a flavor connoisseur, but she didn’t spend much time cooking, as if it was a waste of time. 

 

Her initial cold wariness faded fairly quickly as Lancion served up one dish after another, each one made from forest ingredients.

 

At times, Lancion felt like he was tempting a wild animal with food.

 

But by the end of the two months, Lancion was irritated.