Eyes were watching the two of them embracing tightly by the well from afar.

 

“Who is that woman?”

 

It was none other than Thekion, the first prince of the Theban royal family and the king’s heir. 

 

After sending away the maid who had delivered the bizarre report, Thekion had continued drinking quite heavily. 

 

When he finally stood up to head to bed, he was so drunk that he staggered for a moment.

 

“I should change the surveillance duty. Where is she hearing such nonsense…”

 

His head throbbed, so he walked to the window to get some fresh air. 

 

That was when he spotted a dark figure by the well. 

 

At first, he assumed it was a pair of lovers enjoying a secret rendezvous in the late hour. There were quite a few young courtiers in the Theban palace, so it was probably one of them. 

 

How indecent. To do such a thing right in the middle of the royal palace courtyard.

 

He thought he would have to scold the head maid about it in the morning, and narrowed his eyes, focusing his gaze. 

 

He planned to describe the couple’s appearance to her.

 

The silhouette of the man came into view. He blinked. The drunken haze vanished in an instant.

 

Dionysus?

 

He rubbed his eyes and opened them wide. Even from a distance, the black hair was unmistakable. 

 

The man was ravishing the woman. 

 

The moment Thekion understood the situation, curses spilled from his mouth. 

 

Anger flared up, but not toward Dionysus. 

 

No one gets angry at the sun for radiating intense heat. He had strictly ordered that no one was to approach or show interest in the black-haired guest. 

 

So which foolish woman had disobeyed?

 

He immediately ruled out the possibility that Dionysus had reached out first. There was no bold or interesting human in this palace worthy of the god’s attention.

 

Who on earth is she?

 

Thekion pressed himself close to the window and glared at the well, but the woman was barely visible, blocked by Dionysus. 

 

“It seemed like he was spending the night with the old woman.” 

 

For some reason, the maid’s random words suddenly resurfaced. But that woman was clearly not an old woman. 

 

The glimpses he caught showed the smooth, supple curves of a young woman.

 

Dear gods.

 

Thekion swallowed a groan.

 

Please, let no further chaos befall Thebes.

 

That woman needed to understand that lying with a god was not purely an honor. It was not just for her sake, but for Thebes as well.

 

Thekion stared at the well without blinking, but he gained nothing in identifying the woman. 

 

Dionysus was kissing her without pause, as if her lips were coated in honey. He couldn’t even see her hair, let alone her face.

 

Dionysus, the god of those who stagger drunkenly, was usually light and playful even when toying with humans. 

 

Yet here he was, lavishing such passionate caresses. 

 

Realizing this, Thekion felt a vulgar curiosity rise within him, quite unlike his usual self.

 

Just how enchanting must she be to make even Dionysus so engrossed?

 

Entranced, Thekion was about to open the window when he suddenly came to his senses. 

 

Curiosity kills even good people. His hand froze on the window frame. Cold sweat trickled down his temple. He would get caught. If he spied, he would definitely be caught.

 

He had no desire to become a beast like the Theban who had spied on the virgin goddess Artemis bathing. 

 

Terrified, Thekion quickly turned away from the window and pulled the blanket up to his chin, pretending he had seen nothing.

 

🫧

 

But curiosity is a monster. 

 

Once it awakens, it does not disappear easily, like stubborn grime. The more one is told not to pay attention, the sharper its antennae become. 

 

In the end, Thekion secretly summoned the head maid and asked if any maid had sneaked out at night.

 

“If someone deliberately left the palace, I wouldn’t know, but as far as I’m aware, there was no such maid, Your Highness.”

 

Then who could it be?

 

According to the surveillance maid’s report, Dionysus had done nothing particularly unusual. He simply stayed shut inside his room all day. 

 

Because Thekion showed interest, the maid even added her own thought,

 

“It seems Prince Langsion spends the entire day pressed against his companion.”

 

Imagining Dionysus rolling around with an old woman who might become a corpse at any moment made Thekion feel nauseous. 

 

If it were him, he would rather sleep with a beautiful boy than even kiss such an old woman. It was hard to believe, but the maid’s face had been extremely serious, so it didn’t seem like a groundless guess. 

 

Come to think of it, there was no reason for the maid to exaggerate or lie.

 

Not long after, rumors began to spread quietly that moans could be heard from time to time coming from the black-haired guest’s room. 

 

Even Thekion could no longer deny it.

 

Dionysus, who, despite his current appearance, was a man of such beauty that no beauty in Thebes could match his true form, was in heat for an ugly, old woman.

 

Faced with this clear truth, Thekion couldn’t even laugh. Then was the woman he had seen that night also the old woman? 

 

Had the alcohol made him see things? 

 

The doubt refused to fade, and Thekion’s interest turned toward the old woman, though he still couldn’t believe it, who had captured this drunken god’s attention.

 

However, he had no foolish courage to approach the god’s companion, so he neatly set his curiosity aside. 

 

Among the three princes of Thebes, he was the most cautious heir. He had merely tucked the curiosity away; it had not disappeared.

 

The opportunity for Thekion to satisfy his curiosity came sooner than expected.

 

He left Thebes for the first time in a while to go on an outing. 

 

After riding hard with his close friends from wealthy families who owned stables and fine horses, they arrived at Mount Helicon just as the sun hid behind the clouds, perfect conditions for hunting.

 

He whistled. His friends picked up expensive bows made of polished water buffalo horns and sinew strings. 

 

The most active one among them, who loved hunting more than anyone, urged the servant.

 

“I’ll go ahead and scout the path.”

 

The servant in charge of driving the game stepped into the entrance of the mountain. Behind him, one of his friends raised his bow and looked back at the group.

 

All eyes turned to Thekion, as if waiting for him to speak. 

 

Though they appeared to be nothing more than a group of like-minded young men, they were in fact the next generation of heirs responsible for Thebes’ generational change, and their hierarchy was quite strict.

 

“If we hunt every single beast on the mountain, we’ll be punished.”

 

Mount Helicon, rich in vegetation and full of mountain game, was a place said to have once been the hunting ground of the gods. 

 

When Thekion made the joke with a serious face, replies poured out as if they had been waiting.

 

“Yeah. Don’t try too hard.”

 

“Let’s not anger the goddess!”

 

At the playful jeers, one man laughed heartily.

 

“If we catch any beautiful beasts, we’ll offer them to the goddess’s altar. The largest one will be offered to Lord Dionysus. That should be enough so he won’t get angry even if we hunt a lot!”

 

He kicked his horse’s hindquarters and headed into the mountain. 

 

The others quickly followed so as not to fall behind. Thekion entered the mountain a little more slowly. 

 

Originally, he was someone who enjoyed reading and writing, and if time remained after work, he would compare the royal property lists with the records. 

 

Today, however, he had not refused his friends’ suggestion to go hunting. His mind had been entirely occupied with the black-haired god shut away in the palace, and he had wanted some fresh air.

 

Unlike the notoriously rugged Mount Cithaeron, Mount Helicon had gentle slopes suitable even for horses to run on, making it the perfect place for an outing when his head ached. 

 

The fresh, slightly bitter scent of grass and earth eased the throbbing pain in his head.

 

“Your Highness. I will drive the game toward you.”

 

“Do so.”

 

The servant took the hunting dogs and headed deeper into the mountain. Thekion liked the cool and free atmosphere of the mountain more than the hunt itself. 

 

On impulse, he dismounted and took off his shoes.

 

In the palace, he would not tolerate even a single strand of hair falling out of place, but here in nature, he felt it was all right to be a little freer. 

 

Feeling a sense of liberation as if responsibility and duty had vanished, Thekion took a long, deep breath.

 

Phew!

 

He walked barefoot on the dirt path, leading his horse. He was leisurely strolling and enjoying the rare moment of peace when…

 

Buzzzzz!

 

The horse he was leading accidentally disturbed a beehive hidden in the low bushes. 

 

In an instant, a swarm of ground wasps surged toward both the horse and Thekion.

 

“Damn it!”

 

Thekion quickly wrapped his cloak around himself, but he was still stung several times on his arm and face. 

 

These ground wasps had quite strong venom for their kind; the stung areas swelled bright red almost immediately. 

 

The hideous swelling, like a severe rash, was bad enough, but the intense itching and stinging were far worse. His good mood vanished in seconds.

 

The moment Thekion escaped the wasps’ territory, he began scratching his entire body. 

 

The relief was only momentary; soon the stinging became even more horrible than before.

 

It was a situation where nothing came to mind except how terribly unlucky he was. 

 

Thekion immediately realized he shouldn’t scratch, but the itch was so unbearable that he could hardly resist. His nails dug viciously into his skin. He was skilled with numbers and letters, but he knew absolutely no remedies for a situation like this. 

 

He was helplessly waiting for the servant when…

 

“Don’t scratch.”

 

“…”

 

“The venom of striped ground wasps digs deeper into the skin the more you scratch.”

 

The voice was so rough it felt like it scraped his eardrums. 

 

Thekion, who had been groaning and grimacing, lifted his head. It was Dionysus’s, old woman. 

 

The witch of Mount Cithaeron. 

 

The one who deceived others by calling Dionysus her disciple.

 

Why was this woman here?

 

Facing the witch, he felt no fear.

 

His youngest brother had described her as a terrifying villain like no other in the world, but if she were truly that great and dangerous, would she have become Dionysus’s plaything? 

 

Especially without even realizing it. Thinking that way, he wasn’t frightened at all.

 

He was simply curious why she was here. 

 

Thekion continued scratching his skin as he glared at the woman. The old woman was holding a densely woven wooden ball in her hand. 

 

Even without knowing exactly what it was, it wasn’t hard to guess its purpose. 

 

Inside the hollow wooden sphere, about the size of a child’s head, were trapped the horrible wasps that had just tormented him. 

 

The angry buzzing of their wings filled the ball.

 

Just from being stung a few times, he could tell these wasps were a far more venomous breed than the common honeybees in the palace, yet the old woman remained completely calm while holding them.

 

‘What is this old woman?’

 

The witch of Mount Cithaeron.

 

Thekion recalled the exaggerated rumors of her notoriety.