However, Thekion soon shook his head. He couldn’t think about it so logically. 

 

Perhaps Dionysus had simply done it out of boredom. 

 

Having lost his birth mother, lost his foster mother, and now wandering while fleeing from Hera, Dionysus was a god who knew nothing of normal relationships. 

 

He simply viewed everything around him as a tool to relieve his own boredom.

 

Expecting common sense or normal behavior from someone like him would be just as foolish.

 

Thekion no longer intended to let himself be toyed with by Dionysus.

 

‘I’ll have to deal with the situation as it comes.’

 

Thekion, dressed in clothes that the maids had meticulously starched and ironed until they were stiff, left the room. 

 

He was brimming with confidence, having sharpened his focus to its peak. He was certain he wouldn’t offend Dionysus’s eyes.

 

“I have returned. Mother, Father. It’s been a while. I’m glad to see everyone looks healthy.”

 

Thekion’s sharp eyes trembled faintly.

 

A face stiff with tension.

 

A smile that looked forced, as if he were carefully watching the other person’s reaction.

 

What kind of scenario was this?

 

He had been told to treat him “like Langsion,” yet why was he saying “it’s been a while”?

 

Langsion was the youngest prince of the Theban royal family. He was the son Queen Inashan considered her most painful thorn. 

 

Naturally, aside from occasional outings, he had never left the palace. 

 

So what did “it’s been a while” even mean? And why that tense expression? 

 

The real Langsion, who had been showered with love and grown spoiled and carefree, would never make such a face.

 

Could it be that “treat him like Langsion” only meant to treat him as the “youngest prince of Thebes”?

 

The family members, who had been preparing to warmly welcome the god as if he were the real Langsion, froze at the unexpected words, unable to respond. 

 

Think. I have to think… 

 

Sweat trickled down the bridge of Thekion’s nose. When he looked at Langsion with a tense expression, the other man gave him a chilly gaze and slightly lifted the corners of his mouth. 

 

Thekion shuddered at how viciously he refused to even give a proper hint. 

 

Was he supposed to just figure out the rhythm and match it himself?

 

‘No.’

 

Thekion corrected his thinking.

 

He was giving a hint.

 

He had to focus on what was visible.

 

The Langsion before them had returned to Thebes after a long time away.

 

And he was carefully watching his family’s reactions.

 

What reason would a prince have to act that way?

 

If he wasn’t a discarded or rejected prince, then…

 

“Why have you come out to greet me, of all things?”

 

“What took you so long to get here?”

 

Thekion spoke stiffly. It was better for him to step forward than for his parents, who still hadn’t grasped the situation. 

 

Once they saw his attitude, the king would soon realize what was going on. 

 

Dionysus no, Langsion lowered his eyes and replied.

 

“I’ve learned a lot of things while I was away. You said it yourself, brother. That there was nothing left for me to learn here. It seems you were right. I’ll make sure even my meager knowledge can be of use to Thebes.”

 

“…”

 

“Mother who passed away would have wanted that too, I’m sure.”

 

Thekion’s eyes flashed open. The pieces in his head clicked together perfectly. He frowned and looked at Langsion with clear contempt.

 

“You still haven’t come to your senses. Your mother is the one standing right in front of you.”

 

His heart pounded violently.

 

Was this correct?

 

Was this the right direction?

 

“…I’m sorry.”

 

Seeing him weakly lower his head, Thekion barely managed to swallow back the sigh of relief that almost escaped him by clenching his teeth.

 

Fortunately, this seemed to be the right path.

 

Langsion. The Dionysus who was pretending to be the youngest prince was playing the role of Thebes’ despised youngest prince. 

 

Because he had a different mother, he was ostracized within the royal family. 

 

After wandering outside Thebes for a long time, he had only just returned. Thekion didn’t know the exact reason yet.

 

Thekion glanced at the hunched old woman standing one step behind Langsion. It was clear that Langsion’s behavior had something to do with this old woman. 

 

However, he couldn’t even begin to guess the exact circumstances.

 

Thekion grew afraid.

 

The god of calamity stood before him, calmly wearing a sorrowful expression.

 

What on earth are you plotting this time?

 

The one-man play, created for a single person, had begun successfully.

 

🫧

 

Bang!

 

The sound of the door slamming shut openly revealed his impatience. The bed, meticulously maintained by servants under the queen’s orders, carried a fragrant floral scent. 

 

Langsion pushed Scylla down onto it, then pulled off the dark, dingy hood and tossed it aside.

 

“You don’t have to wear this stuffy thing anymore.”

 

“…”

 

“It looks good. Seeing the teacher’s face like this.”

 

“Haah… Langsion.”

 

Scylla let out a sigh instead of scolding him for acting recklessly as she usually did. At the call filled with complicated feelings, Langsion, who had been smiling brightly, froze.

 

“Why did you say that to them?”

 

“Say what? Oh, calling you Teacher?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Because you are my teacher.”

 

When he answered as if it were obvious, Scylla frowned.

 

“You could have explained it differently to them. Wouldn’t they find it strange if some old woman of unknown origin suddenly appeared claiming to be your teacher?”

 

“But this way, they will respect you. Even if I’m a prince who isn’t treated well, it looks better for them to see you as my teacher rather than just some random guest. And it’s also the truth.”

 

Scylla closed her mouth and pushed him away. 

 

For some reason, the atmosphere made it impossible to resist, so Langsion obediently let himself be pushed.

 

“You can’t do that, Langsion.”

 

She looked him straight in the eyes with a serious gaze. 

 

Under that look, Langsion felt like a child again. It didn’t make sense. He had lived many times longer than she, had seen far more, and experienced far more. 

 

Even while thinking that to himself, for some reason, Langsion quietly sat down in front of Scylla.

 

“I’m scared, Teacher.”

 

He smiled with his eyes, but unlike usual, Scylla didn’t fall for his cheekiness this time.

 

“They will soon find out that I am the witch of Mount Cithaeron?”

 

“…”

 

“Even without that, you’re already an eyesore to them. If they learn that someone like me is your teacher, your reputation will only get worse. Your position will become even more precarious.”

 

“But I couldn’t introduce you as a hired maid either. Besides, they already don’t think much of me. If I introduced you as my maid, even ordinary people in the palace would look down on you.”

 

“…”

 

“Also… I wanted us to share the same room. It’s not strange for a disciple to serve their teacher in the same room, is it?”

 

“…”

 

“To me, those two things were more important than my reputation getting worse.”

 

Langsion whispered in a sweet voice. He shyly lowered his eyes. His long, dense eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks.

 

She must have never experienced such care and consideration from any man, or from anyone at all, because of her ugly appearance for such a long time, regardless of gender.

 

But Scylla only sighed.

 

“It was a foolish choice.”

 

Langsion inwardly frowned.

 

He had thought she would be happy if he helped her.

 

If he showed her that he was thinking of her like this…

 

‘She’s taking it too seriously.’

 

To him, all of this was nothing more than an entertaining play built on lies. 

 

What mattered more to him was fooling around and doing lewd things with Scylla in this room. He wondered how he could soothe her and what sweet words he should whisper as he spoke.

 

“It’s already too late, Teacher. I can’t suddenly correct myself now and say you’re a maid. I already called you my teacher in front of them.”

 

“…”

 

“Think about your goal, Teacher. Being the teacher of a Theban prince will be much more helpful. The Hydra’s poison is in the hands of the son of the sun. When you approach them, status is important. Would the head of a great merchant guild bother to meet with a mere maid?”

 

“What about you?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“As you said, I only need to achieve my goal. It doesn’t matter what happens to me afterward, whether I die or not. But you are young. You still have a long life ahead of you. If you ruin your position like this, what are you going to do after I’m gone?”

 

Of course, that was something Langsion had also worried about. Scylla was a short-lived human. 

 

To his eyes, she was no different from a flower that bloomed for only a fleeting moment before withering. That was why he wanted to feed her anything helpful, wine, ambrosia, nectar, anything. 

 

Yet hearing such words from Scylla’s mouth left him stunned. She was worrying about him after her own death. 

 

A mere human who was little more than a lump of blood to him.

 

Langsion’s expression turned strange.

 

“Then just say that you subdued me.”

 

“…Pardon?”

 

“There is no greater heroic achievement than making a witch kneel.”

 

“…”

 

He was at a loss for words.

 

“They say you ascended to Olympus. My son has taken a seat among the gods of Olympus! Hera must have been so jealous that she wanted to die. So go tell Lord Zeus for me. Tell him I want to see him. What if Hera is wary? What? Will you earn her hatred? What does that matter? You’re a member of Olympus now, too, aren’t you!”

 

“Why can’t I use your name? I am your wife. As my husband, you have a duty to protect me.”

 

Like when a monster from the heart comes visiting, nails clatter as they fill a vast hole.

 

“…I don’t like that.”

 

“Langsion.”

 

Scylla calmly soothed him. She was trying to comfort him.