Exhausted in both body and mind, Scylla quickly fell asleep. 

 

Langsion stayed by her side until she drifted off, gently patting and soothing her. Once her breathing had settled into a calm, steady rhythm, he silently rose from the bed. 

 

Still sitting, he whispered toward her,

 

“Rest well, Master.”

 

Already deeply asleep, she did not hear his words.

 

She only let out soft, quiet breaths. In the room where not even moonlight entered, Langsion gazed down at her face, illuminated faintly by the candlelight beside the bed, with an unreadable expression for a long time.

 

With a short puff, he blew out the candle. 

 

The surroundings instantly became so dark that nothing in front of him was visible.

 

Click—

 

After closing the door behind him, Langsion stood still for a moment. 

 

The corridors of the royal palace were dimly lit by candles mounted on the walls. He began walking through the dark hallway at a measured pace.

 

The place he arrived at, neither too fast nor too slow, was the First Prince’s chamber. 

 

“A guest with black hair has arrived,” the maid announced. 

 

Thekion, who had jumped up in a fluster at the maid’s call, quickly straightened his appearance even in his dazed state.

 

What business could he have at this hour? I should change my clothes first. 

 

There mustn’t be even the slightest thing that displeases him.

 

Even if Thekion had been wearing a maid’s skirt, Dionysus probably wouldn’t have said anything, but Thekion still did his best.

 

Phew…

 

He took a deep breath and opened the door. The moment the door was halfway open, he immediately regretted it. 

 

After all, it was Dionysus’s order; there was no choice but to obey, yet regret still washed over him.

 

“D-Dionysus, my lord…”

 

But when he saw Dionysus’s face, it looked exactly the same as usual. 

 

Or rather, should he say it was the same as usual? 

 

His ordinary face and the faint smile on it showed no difference from any other time, yet Thekion felt a cold shiver run down his spine. 

 

An eerie aura, like something that should only emanate from a corpse, poured down like a waterfall.

 

“Gather your family members.”

Despite the spine-chilling atmosphere, a voice as sweet as melting honey flowed into his ears.

 

“I have something to tell them.”

 

It was already late at night, the time when even Teraon, who loved writing, would normally be asleep, but how could he refuse? 

 

Faced with an order that could not be defied, Thekion replied obediently, “As you wish.”

 

🫧

 

Madness is incomprehensible precisely because it is madness. 

 

It is already difficult to see into the heart of a mere human; how much more so the mind of a great being? 

 

Even when he tried to think that way, it remained baffling. 

 

The anecdotes of Dionysus passed down orally had only been interesting stories, but now that he was experiencing it himself, Thekion could imagine how much of a headache the humans in those tales must have suffered.

 

The royal family of Thebes, summoned by Thekion’s call, had to make tremendous efforts just to maintain calm expressions.

 

Dionysus, seated in the highest position in the king’s office, tapped the floor lightly with his thyrsos staff without looking at them.

 

The royals stole glances at him as he sat deep in thought. 

 

Seeing the long shadow cast across his face, their irritation at having their deep sleep disturbed didn’t dare raise its head. 

 

Only the carefree youngest, Langsion, secretly let out a yawn.

 

“My leg hurts…”

 

He muttered quietly. The leg he had broken on Mount Cithaeron was throbbing. He could walk, but he still needed rest. 

 

Langsion’s face, which had been cheerfully chasing after young maids just that morning, now twisted into a discontented expression.

 

‘Kneeling on the floor isn’t good for my leg.’

 

He thought so, but he didn’t dare open his mouth. 

 

As immature as he was, he wasn’t bold enough to speak in an atmosphere like this.

 

‘Why is everyone so serious?’

 

Even his eldest brother, who hadn’t been flustered even when quarreling with Athens, now wore a face so rigid that it was frightening to speak to him. 

 

Langsion couldn’t understand why his family looked so terrified.

 

‘Aren’t we under the protection of a god?’

 

Even though something unpleasant had happened.

 

Just looking at his father’s face, still unfamiliar with the eyepatch, made him flinch in fear. Still, his respect and worship for Dionysus had not disappeared.

 

‘Mother has always spoken recklessly and angered the king of Athens before, so this must be the same.’

 

Langsion still liked the god Dionysus and wanted to grow closer to him.

 

‘And Lord Dionysus cherishes me.’

 

However, even to Langsion, this particular prank of the god seemed a bit ridiculous.

 

“I must have been too foolish to fully understand your command.”

 

The King of Thebes spoke in a creeping, submissive voice. 

 

Rather than not understanding the words, he seemed to want to confirm the true intention behind Dionysus’s order.

 

“It means you should all treat me as your son, Langsion.”

 

Dionysus replied in a slightly annoyed tone. 

 

At the irritation creeping into the end of his words, the royal family immediately fell silent and only watched his mood carefully.

 

“Not only you, but everyone in the palace must treat me that way.”

 

“…”

 

After speaking, the one now called Langsion looked at them. 

 

Thekion quickly lowered his head.

 

“I will ensure everyone keeps their mouths shut.”

 

“Good, Thekion.”

 

Only then did Langsion’s voice turn satisfied.

 

“It must be thorough.”

 

“…”

 

“My companion already knows me as Langsion.”

 

“…”

 

“If that person finds out that I am not Langsion, it would be problematic.”

 

It was truly strange. His voice was sweeter and more pleasant than any actor’s, yet it sent chills down their spines.

 

The heads of the royal family drooped lower and lower toward the floor, like sunflowers that could no longer face the moon.

 

“I don’t want to dye wine with blood.”

 

“…”

 

“So I hope you will faithfully keep my secret.”

 

The royal family, frozen stiff with tension, replied, “Yes.” 

 

Even Langsion, overwhelmed by the atmosphere, nodded his head vigorously.

 

“There will absolutely never be a case where anyone in the palace under my jurisdiction reveals Lord Dionysus’s secret. I will firmly lock everyone’s mouths so they cannot open them recklessly.”

 

Once again, Thekion spoke on behalf of everyone.

 

“I’ll trust you.”

 

Dionysus smiled gently. Even as he smiled, the shadow covering his face remained unchanged.

 

“Langsion.”

 

The real Langsion, called by name, flinched and trembled. 

 

The faces of the king and queen, who had been anxiously waiting for the order to withdraw, turned deathly pale. 

 

If it had been Thekion, it might have been different, but the immature Langsion was both their most painful thorn and their beloved youngest, whom they would not feel pain even if placed in their eyes. 

 

Please. Please, Langsion. 

 

The family, including Thekion, cried out inwardly, but Langsion, completely unaware of their feelings, answered brightly.

 

“Yes, Lord Dionysus!”

 

Thekion let out a short groan.

 

Dionysus chuckled.

 

“I told you to treat me as Langsion, didn’t I?”

 

After Dionysus’s declaration, the youngest prince, whose name had been taken away, blinked in confusion. Inashan let out a wail. 

 

The youngest prince, who still hadn’t fully grasped the situation, gradually filled with fear.

 

“Lord Dionysus, he is still young and immature. I will take responsibility and ensure this child does not make any mistakes.”

 

Thekion spoke hurriedly.

 

In the royal family of Thebes, there was only one Langsion.

 

And the god Dionysus had just declared that he would become that Langsion.

 

Only then did the youngest prince realize his name had been stolen. Held in his mother’s arms, he listened to the conversation between his strict eldest brother and the god he worshipped.

 

“How?”

 

“I will have him leave this place.”

 

His eldest brother’s firm voice rang out. The youngest prince knew that when Thekion spoke in that tone, he never changed his mind. He would not retract his words. 

 

The youngest prince’s shoulders began to tremble like aspen leaves.

 

“That child will not exist in Thebes for as long as Lord Dionysus, no, as long as Lord Langsion is here.”

 

“Not ‘Lord Langsion.’ Just ‘Langsion.’”

 

“…”

 

“You must call me that when we are outside.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Dionysus’s voice regained its warmth once more.

 

“Do not make any mistakes, everyone.”

 

🫧

 

After Langsion left, Thekion could not sleep a single wink all night. He sat in his office, tilting his wine cup. 

 

The fragrant aroma of grape wine lingered in the air around him. 

 

Though he was strict and disciplined in all things, even he found it difficult to resist the temptation of Dionysus’s wine.