I Love the Smell of Rotting Snails in the Morning

Bleeegh!

After the last remnants of his stomach had finally evacuated, Aeneas straightened up again, gasping for air.

I knew I should’ve kept my hands off that scallop omelet at breakfast…

Eshmunet patted his back sympathetically, clearly fighting her own wave of nausea.

“Are you feeling better, Prince Aeneas?”

A painfully exaggerated smile stretched across his face.

“Of course! Never been better! I just, uh… have a tiny upset stomach. But not from your food! Absolutely not! I'm uh… probably still a little shaken up from the shipwreck, that’s all…”

He didn’t dare turn around and face Dido.

Well. That’s it, then. It's over. After she’s seen me like this, there’s no way she’ll ever take me seriously again. Let alone fall for me...

In his mind’s eye, he could already see Dido looking down at him with a mocking grin and a scornful expression, barely holding back laughter.

But the queen was still standing behind him as if rooted to the spot, panic in her eyes.

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIX THIS?! Instead of showing him the grandeur and glory of our kingdom, I let him see the foulest, most disgusting quarter in the entire city. Because I didn’t stop him, he had to throw up! Now he’s going to bolt at the first chance and tell everyone what a dreadful queen Carthage has!

In her thoughts, she saw Aeneas in distant harbors, recounting his terrible experiences and mocking the backward Phoenicians.

Her helpless gaze drifted to her handmaiden.

What should I do, Esh?!

The moment Eshmunet saw her queen's expression, she knew she had to step in.

She gave her a firm nod before turning to Aeneas.

“Please forgive us, my lord. You should have been told beforehand: one of Carthage’s main sources of income is the trade in Tyrian purple. It is of such importance that the entire production takes place in this district. And since very large quantities of murex snails must be fermented here, the whole process has a… well… rather unpleasant side effect…”

M-murex? Never heard of those. So they make dye here from rotten snails?!

As Aeneas’s stomach slowly settled, he tried to regain his composure.

Should I pretend I knew that? A worldly leader would know something like that, right? Ah, what’s the point anymore… the game’s already over. Might as well be honest…

“So that’s how purple dye is made? I… didn’t know that…”

Eshmunet nodded.

“That is correct, Prince Aeneas. So please forgive my lady. It was never her intention to subject you to this.”

He blinked.

Then he glanced nervously at Dido, and the look on her face caught him completely off guard.

Not mocking. Not disdainful.

Worried.

She’s… she’s not laughing at all. Actually, she looks like she feels bad about it? Guess I misjudged her…

“O-oh, it’s really fine!” he said quickly. “The smell’s not that bad, honestly. And like I said, my stomach was just a little off, that’s all…” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, where’s this temple you wanted to show me?”

At his question, Dido startled out of her frozen state and stepped toward him.

She exchanged a brief glance with Eshmunet, who nodded encouragingly, before finally turning back to Aeneas.

“You… you still wish to continue? Despite everything? Despite the chaos in the streets and the stench around us?”

Aeneas scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“Well, I did come here to get to know your city. And no place is perfect, right?”

Dido’s eyes sparkled at his words, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something.

So he isn’t angry? But he’s a great hero, is his pride not wounded? 

Then she smiled.

“Yes...”

For a moment, the two of them simply looked at each other, until color rushed to their cheeks and they both glanced away in embarrassment.

Noticing this, Eshmunet cleared her throat.

“If you still wish it, Prince Aeneas, then please follow me. It is not far to the temple from here.”

“S-sure…”

And so the three of them set off again, crossing the purple district with cloths pressed firmly against their faces.

Yet somehow, the stench didn’t seem nearly as terrible to Aeneas anymore.

As they continued across the square, he watched the production process with curiosity.

Besides the enormous vats where the fermentation took place, the rest of the work was done right there in the district as well.

Workers sat on spread-out cloths, wrapped in heavy fabric and wearing tight masks.

In front of them lay heaps of shells which they cracked open and pried out the glands with sharp knives.

Elsewhere, all kinds of fabrics, from wool to silk, were dipped into the finished solution before being hung up to dry.

When the workers noticed their queen walking unguarded through the district, most of them stopped what they were doing and stared after the small group in disbelief.

“Is that… the QUEEN?!”

“What’s she doing here in our district? And with that Trojan, of all people?”

“She’s not too proud to show herself in a place like this!”

“Incredible!”

When Aeneas saw the admiration in the eyes of her people, he was taken aback.

“You really are a very popular ruler, aren’t you?” he observed.

Dido blushed.

“Y-you really think so?” Then she waved it off. “I’m sure your popularity is no less than mine. After all, you saved your people!”

Aeneas looked down bashfully.

Saved? Yeah, right. They only follow me because they bought that whole ‘divine destiny’ nonsense. She has no idea how it really went down, when Troy was burning...

“Well, to be honest…”

But when she looked at him with those large green eyes, shining with such open warmth, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth.

“Hey… is it just me, or has the stench gotten better?” he asked, steering the conversation away.

“Oh… yes, it does seem that way,” Dido replied, lowering the cloth from her mouth.

And when they finally left the district behind, and the rotten smell faded around the next bend, the path led them up a steep hill.

🏛️🏛️🏛️

From below, the massive columns of the Temple of Tanit were already visible.

As they followed the path upward, they failed to notice the curious eyes of a white dove watching them from the temple’s stone gate.

It tilted its head, lifted its wings, and fluttered past the stelae and columns into the temple’s interior, finally landing gracefully on a pedestal 

Right beside it, a stern-looking woman stood with folded arms, staring at the wall.

Hearing the loud cooing of her feathered scout, she cupped her hands around her mouth.

“Hurry it up, Alexios, they’ll be here any minute!”

Exhausted, her servant wiped sweat from his brow while gripping an oversized paintbrush, struggling to keep his balance on the wobbly ladder.

“Y-yes, my lady, but it’s not quite finished yet…”

The goddess sighed, then stomped over and snatched the brush from his hand.

“You’re getting far too lost in unnecessary details! Do you think you’re the next Polygnotus? Hand it over!”

She slapped on a few broad strokes, her tongue slowly sticking out to the side in concentration.

Then she shoved the brush back into Alexios’ hands, nearly knocking him off the ladder.

“There! That’ll do just fine. Now quickly, out of here!”

No sooner had they vanished through a swirling portal of light and rose petals, conjured by a flick of Venus’ hand, than the temple’s great doors swung open.

Dido’s regal composure had fully returned as she proudly presented the sanctuary.

“…And here you see the heart of the temple, the image of our patron goddess, Tanit!”

Aeneas stopped before the massive statue at the center, studying it carefully.

She sat upon her throne with solemn dignity, a diadem of divine authority resting upon her hair, which was tied back in a short ponytail.

Hmm… she looks kinda familiar. Where have I seen her before?

“So Tanit is your chief goddess here in Carthage?” Aeneas asked curiously.

Dido nodded.

“Unlike in our old homeland of Tyre, where Melqart and Astarte were primarily worshiped, we in Carthage chose to dedicate ourselves to the mother goddess and consort of Baal-Hammon.”

Mother goddess, huh?

“Sounds almost like Juno…”

Dido and her handmaiden exchanged a brief glance before the latter spoke.

“Some say the gods bear many names, yet are the same. That many of them are identical, only worshiped under different titles. So who knows, Prince Aeneas, perhaps our Tanit and your Juno are one and the same?”

Aeneas stood there for a while, pondering her words. And for a fleeting moment, he could have sworn the statue’s eyes were glaring at him in anger.

He swallowed and hurried after Dido and Eshmunet, who had already moved on and soon stopped before the large wall paintings.

“These murals depict the history of the Phoenician people, from our origins in the Levant all the way to...”

“That’s Troy,” Aeneas interrupted flatly.

When they turned to him in surprise, he was standing several paces away, staring at the freshly painted mural, eyes wide.

The queen and her handmaiden stepped beside him, and moments later, they too were staring at the mural in astonishment.

Then Aeneas croaked weakly.

“Wait a minute. I-is that… me?”