“I’m not hungry.”
Eutostea did not look at him. She stared at the contents of the wooden bowl. She felt hunger, but it was not urgent. Even if she doesn’t put anything in her mouth for days, the pain of hunger will not exceed the pain in her hollow chest.
“Would you like a drink?”
Dionysus laid down the golden cup. Dark wine sprang up. He produced alcohol to the point where he could not control his power and it spilled over the edge of the glass. Wine dripped on the mattress.
“I’m not thirsty.”
Eutostea refused.
“…”
Dionysus put it away without a word. And his priest, who didn’t see him, looked down. Her emaciated face was reminiscent of lilies. He resented her lips for only saying mean things. He wanted to kiss them on the spur of the moment.
“Eutostea.”
He pressed down on his desires and called out her name.
“I do not want to clear a corpse from this temple.”
“I’m not dying, Lord Dionysus. I just don’t want to put anything in my mouth right now.”
Her refusal to eat was bold. Her two eyes drooped in sorrow. Grief at the loss of her home country and feelings of concern for her family. What an excessive thing that was. Dionysus was proud of himself as the most humane god, but now he was confused because it was hard for him to understand Eutostea’s feelings.
“Until when. Just let me know the deadline.”
He said.
“Until I feel like it.”
Eutostea said. When would she feel like it? Never in her life? Dionysus clenched his fist and hit the mattress.
“You won’t change my mind by being stubborn. You can’t go to Thebes. I’m not sending you, Eutostea.”
“Yes, I’m a priest who serves Dionysus, so I have to obey you.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Did it sound like that?”
Eutostea finally met his eye. hers were as hollow as a dead man’s.
“Do you resent me?”
Asked Dionysus.
“How dare I?”
Eutostea swallowed her dry saliva after talking thus.
“This is a comfortable hell. Lord Dionysus.”
She said in a self-contradictory voice.
“I’m alive, but I’m in hell. Just because I can’t see the bars, it doesn’t mean that there are none.”
“…Yes, keep up the stubbornness. Because it’s you who’ll tire out.”
Said Dionysus. Unlike his words, however, it was him who already looked tired. He rubbed his dry face with his hands and went out of the inner chamber.
Eutostea walked out, following after his tracks. There was a white temple with no place beyond her reach, and the back of Dionysus floated into view; lying with his back bent over the altar floating on the pond. The Moussa, who had folded the papyrus paper and sent it afloat on the pond, found her and looked back with a bright expression. Eutostea left the assembly hall. She felt like running away, but she didn’t know where to go. Dionysus ignored her. She was about to discover. The extent of the bars which stretched like grapevines into the high ceiling above her. The comfortable hell he built for her.
“I’m not hungry.”
Eutostea did not look at him. She stared at the contents of the wooden bowl. She felt hunger, but it was not urgent. Even if she doesn’t put anything in her mouth for days, the pain of hunger will not exceed the pain in her hollow chest.
“Would you like a drink?”
Dionysus laid down the golden cup. Dark wine sprang up. He produced alcohol to the point where he could not control his power and it spilled over the edge of the glass. Wine dripped on the mattress.
“I’m not thirsty.”
Eutostea refused.
“…”
Dionysus put it away without a word. And his priest, who didn’t see him, looked down. Her emaciated face was reminiscent of lilies. He resented her lips for only saying mean things. He wanted to kiss them on the spur of the moment.
“Eutostea.”
He pressed down on his desires and called out her name.
“I do not want to clear a corpse from this temple.”
“I’m not dying, Lord Dionysus. I just don’t want to put anything in my mouth right now.”
Her refusal to eat was bold. Her two eyes drooped in sorrow. Grief at the loss of her home country and feelings of concern for her family. What an excessive thing that was. Dionysus was proud of himself as the most humane god, but now he was confused because it was hard for him to understand Eutostea’s feelings.
“Until when. Just let me know the deadline.”
He said.
“Until I feel like it.”
Eutostea said. When would she feel like it? Never in her life? Dionysus clenched his fist and hit the mattress.
“You won’t change my mind by being stubborn. You can’t go to Thebes. I’m not sending you, Eutostea.”
“Yes, I’m a priest who serves Dionysus, so I have to obey you.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Did it sound like that?”
Eutostea finally met his eye. hers were as hollow as a dead man’s.
“Do you resent me?”
Asked Dionysus.
“How dare I?”
Eutostea swallowed her dry saliva after talking thus.
“This is a comfortable hell. Lord Dionysus.”
She said in a self-contradictory voice.
“I’m alive, but I’m in hell. Just because I can’t see the bars, it doesn’t mean that there are none.”
“…Yes, keep up the stubbornness. Because it’s you who’ll tire out.”
Said Dionysus. Unlike his words, however, it was him who already looked tired. He rubbed his dry face with his hands and went out of the inner chamber.
Eutostea walked out, following after his tracks. There was a white temple with no place beyond her reach, and the back of Dionysus floated into view; lying with his back bent over the altar floating on the pond. The Moussa, who had folded the papyrus paper and sent it afloat on the pond, found her and looked back with a bright expression. Eutostea left the assembly hall. She felt like running away, but she didn’t know where to go. Dionysus ignored her. She was about to discover. The extent of the bars which stretched like grapevines into the high ceiling above her. The comfortable hell he built for her.
