Qart-ḥadašt? Tastes Like Chicken!

At the blare of trumpets, the curtains were drawn back, and countless servants carried the first courses into the hall on platters and bowls of gold.

There were grilled meat skewers and lavish fish pies, seafood of every kind. Pheasants stuffed with herbs, lamb glazed with honey. Fresh, steaming bread and amphorae filled with the finest olive oil. Almonds, nuts, dates, and sweet honeyed cakes.

Before long, more and more dishes covered the low tables at which Trojans and Carthaginians had taken their places on cushioned couches.

As the musicians struck up the lyre and aulos, the banquet was officially underway.

Dido reclined, half-upright on her gold-adorned couch, directly opposite the place of honor where Aeneas had been seated.

Earlier, Eshmunet had braided her queens' hair into several thin plaits, drawn back along the sides and bound into a knot, adorned with golden pins and clasps.

She studied Aeneas closely, forcing her thoughts not to wander too far.

Carefully, her fingers brushed lightly over her cheeks, as she checked whether any trace of redness remained.

All right, here goes! First I should find out what his initial impression of Carthage is… Then perhaps I can gauge what he truly thinks of my rule.

“Well then, noble Aeneas, what do you think of Qart-Hadasht?”

Aeneas had just lifted his cup to take a sip of wine when the question caught him entirely off guard.

He choked, coughing.

Qart-what, exactly? What's that supposed to be, in Jupiter’s name?

His gaze dropped to the bowl before him, filled with a greenish mash that smelled strongly of herbs, vinegar, garlic, and goat cheese.

Is it… the name of this dish? Does she want to know if I like it? Fine by me, small talk is better than politics any day.

“Well… Qart-Hadasht is certainly rather… unusual for my taste, but… one must be willing to try new things now and then!”

Dido arched a brow.

Unusual? Is he implying that Carthage is backward?

Aeneas noticed the Carthaginians watching him critically, likely because of his remark.

Oh crap. Was that rude? Is this some sort of national dish I insulted? Maybe I should’ve just said it was good… but that goat cheese really is terribly sour! I need to fix this somehow...

He cleared his throat and, with deliberate care, drizzled a little honey over the dish.

“Well, my father always used to say: sometimes you have to sweeten something sour. I think that, uh… applies rather well here, actually!”

Dido’s smile froze.

Sweeten something sour? What a strange metaphor. Is he implying that Carthage is in desperate need of improvement? Is the honey supposed to symbolize borrowed gold? Or is he merely testing whether I’m some naïve ruler who thinks progress can be bought with debt? Ha! You won’t find me so easily fooled, Aeneas.

“An interesting perspective…” she replied at last. “But do bear in mind that where you now sit and dine, there was nothing but hot sand only a few years ago, before I built Qart-Hadasht from nothing. Even Tyre was not always the flourishing metropolis it is today.” She reached for a grape. “Sometimes it simply takes patience… until from something sour…” She held up a raisin beside it. “…something wonderfully sweet is born.”

Satisfied with her answer, Dido leaned back slightly and took a sip of grape juice.

Your move, Trojan.

Meanwhile, Aeneas slowly realized what she had actually been talking about.

Wait a minute… Qart-Hadasht is the name of the city?! Isn't it called Carthage?

His eyes dropped once more to the bowl before him.

I thought she meant the food! Thank the gods, I didn’t give myself away… I’d better change the subject quickly before she starts pondering the matter.

“Um... be that as it may… you have a truly impressive palace here, and I am quite certain the rest of Carthage is equally magnificent.”

Dido’s eyes sparkled.

I see. So he wishes to see more of my rule and form his own opinion… This is my chance to show him my kingdom at its finest!

“If it pleases you, it would give me great joy to show you around tomorrow, so you may see for yourself what we have already accomplished here.”

At once, Aeneas’ heart began to race.

Show me around? Just the two of us?! That almost sounds like an actual date! That’s my chance to get closer to her. I can’t screw this up!

He nodded.

“O-okay, that sounds good…” he managed softly, almost shyly, while beneath the table, Dido’s hand curled into a fist in silent triumph.

Aeneas’ thoughts once more drifted into fantasies of clasped hands and close embraces, while the banquet continued.

🏛️🏛️🏛️

At the same time, many miles above them, high in the clouds and beyond the world of mortals, a loud, weary groan echoed through the halls of Olympus.

Venus bent over the great marble basin whose glowing waters had allowed her to follow every moment in Dido’s palace with meticulous attention, dark circles shadowing her eyes.

“Damn it…” she sighed, sensing Aeneas’ unsteady breathing and quickened pulse whenever his gaze lingered on the Phoenician queen.

“What should I do? What should I do?! I didn’t want him to fall in love with her! He was only meant to be safe before continuing his fated journey…”

She pushed herself away from the all-seeing fountain and leaned heavily against one of the massive Olympian columns, worry lines creasing her brow.

“It was hard enough to tear that dreamy-headed boy away from Troy. Now I might never draw him out of Carthage again…”

But her lament was abruptly cut short by a sharp, cutting voice.

“Serves you right!” it rang out from the far end of the colonnade.

Venus whipped her head around and fixed her gaze on the approaching figure.

“Juno,” she hissed with disgust. “This is all your fault! How dare you unleash a storm upon my poor Aeneas like that!”

The queen of the gods merely folded her arms, her expression far from remorseful.

She wore a pale lilac chiton that draped loosely over her slender shoulders. Her dark, violet-shimmering hair was tied into a short ponytail, crowned with a simple silver diadem.

“You know as well as I do why I cannot allow him to fulfill his accursed destiny…”

Venus wrinkled her nose and lifted her chin.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, ironing board.”

Juno’s dignified composure vanished the moment she heard the last word.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME, YOU SILLY GOOSE?!”

“You heard me. Ironing board!”

Growling, the two goddesses stormed toward each other and soon stood face to face, eyes blazing.

“Stay out of Aeneas’ fate!” Venus spat.

“His fate will bring suffering and death upon thousands of souls. I can't allow it!” Juno shot back.

“Hmph, don’t pretend to be virtuous. You only hate the Trojans because Paris declared me the fairest, not you!”

To emphasize her beauty, she tossed her golden hair back and lifted her chin even higher.

Juno ground her teeth and took a step back.

“That is...”

But she chose not to pursue the matter and instead struggled to reclaim her divine composure.

“It is irrelevant. Thanks to your own foolish interference, Aeneas will care not a whit about his destiny.” She folded her hands, and a hopeful glimmer shone in her eyes. “…And if he and Dido finally come together, Rome will never be founded, and my precious Carthage will never be destroyed!”

Venus clenched her fists, pouting.

“We shall see about that! Aeneas will leave Carthage and this Dido behind, I’ll make sure of it!”

Juno planted her hands on her hips and leaned forward confidently.

“And I will do everything in my power to ensure he stays with her!”

For a moment, the goddesses locked eyes in tense silence.

Then, almost at the same time, they turned on their heels and stomped away...

...already plotting how to set their plans in motion.