Jason could not believe what he was seeing.
The woman who had stirred his heart, the princess of Colchis, Medea, was at this very moment chatting happily with another man.
And the man fortunate enough to receive Medea's favor was the very one who had overshadowed him earlier, the one he envied so intensely.
Alaric.
That mage.
Right now, in Jason's eyes, Medea was standing beside Alaric with a charming smile, speaking with him as if they were deeply engrossed in conversation.
From time to time, she laughed as though she had heard something amusing, her shoulders trembling with mirth like a blossom swaying in the breeze.
Clearly, the two of them were getting along exceptionally well.
And the more pleasant their interaction seemed, the more unpleasant Jason felt.
No, "unpleasant" wasn't nearly enough to describe it.
His fists clenched tightly at his sides, and his teeth ground together.
Watching Medea, his Medea, so happily interacting with another man, Jason felt as though a knife were slicing through his heart.
That twisting pain ignited an endless fury and humiliation inside him, as though something that should have belonged to him was slipping further and further away.
How could this be?
Even though this was his first time meeting that woman…
Why did he feel this way?
It was almost as if, as if she were already his wife, yet now lying in another man's arms.
But he shouldn't have known her at all before this.
A strange intuition brought Jason a shameful feeling akin to being cuckolded. He didn't know where this humiliation came from, but it left his mood utterly ruined.
Unacceptable.
Absolutely not allowed.
She should be mine.
Driven by this inexplicable emotion, the swelling possessiveness and unwillingness within him gradually overwhelmed his reason.
But soon, another feeling rose in Jason's heart and forced him back to clarity.
He remembered Alaric's overwhelming power, the strength he displayed when he effortlessly captured Hippolyta, the Queen of the Amazons.
Until now, that power had always been a support to him.
It wasn't that Jason suddenly felt grateful, nor did he think of anything as noble as "a friend's woman must not be touched."
Rather, a thought suddenly struck him, if he let jealousy and possessiveness push him into conflict with Alaric now, if he were to compete with him for Medea's affection… what would happen to the real goal?
After all, up until now he still had no clue whether King Aeetes would even grant him a chance at claiming the Golden Fleece.
If he picked a fight with his own teammate at this crucial moment, wouldn't that weaken his own strength?
And Colchis was a kingdom filled with mages, a nation deeply intertwined with magic.
No matter what conditions King Aeetes might impose before handing over the Golden Fleece, magic would surely be involved.
Before such power, the one who needed to act would naturally be a professional.
Among the Argonauts, the two who understood magic best were the two mages, Alaric and Circe.
But Circe always followed Alaric's lead, and their relationship was practically that of lovers.
Under these circumstances, he needed to win Alaric over.
Suddenly, he recalled the relationship between Alaric and Circe.
Not just Circe, Atalanta, the only other woman aboard the Argo, also seemed to have a special relationship with this male mage.
If that's the case… considering Alaric's current closeness with Medea, and considering the jealousy of women, did winning Alaric over mean he, Jason, would have to help cover for this man who was stealing the woman he desired, just to keep him from getting exposed?
The thought of assisting a romantic rival made Jason sink into a deep, bitter gloom.
...
On the other side of the hall, completely unaware of Jason's inner turmoil, Medea and Alaric were indeed engrossed in pleasant conversation.
But what Jason would never imagine was that the two were not strangers meeting for the first time.
Far from it, if Jason could hear their conversation, he would realize that the mage who had joined the Argonauts claiming he had never been to Colchis was somehow inexplicably familiar with the princess of Colchis.
"Brother, why are you with these people?"
That was the first thing Medea said to him when she found him.
In fact, she had already spotted Alaric at the entrance of the hall.
Even though it was the first time Alaric wore the Celestial Garments in front of outsiders, as a top disciple of Hecate and a core member of the Mistra Academy, Medea had long been familiar with the Third Magic's manifested mystic attire.
As Hecate's student and Circe's niece, she naturally knew Alaric quite well.
Alaric had been away from the Mistra Academy for quite some time in order to blend into the Argonauts. After months without seeing him, Medea was genuinely delighted.
So, once the banquet began and she had satisfied her hunger just a little, Medea ignored the gossip of others and walked straight over to Alaric.
"What do you think?" Alaric shrugged lightly at her question. "Of course I'm helping them obtain the Golden Fleece."
"Brother really knows how to joke. I don't believe that for a second. You knew the importance of the Golden Fleece long before coming here."
Medea burst into cheerful laughter at his answer, her innocent smile blooming like a lily, drawing glances from everyone nearby.
"You trust me that much?" Since she saw through the joke, Alaric didn't mind. "What if I really am here for it?"
"Of course I trust Brother," she said, her expression turning serious as she looked at him.
"With your position in the Academy, you'd never need to do something like this. Otherwise… it would be like… hmm…"
She thought for a moment, then said, "Like that joke Brother told, the one about 'Why would His Majesty rebel?'"
Once she finished, she covered her mouth and laughed again.
Alaric also let out a helpless chuckle.
"To think you still remember those boring jokes I told."
"Brother's jokes aren't boring at all," Medea retorted earnestly. "And Medea remembers every single one."
Seeing the pure lavender glow in the girl's eyes, and hearing her sincere words, Alaric immediately sensed something different, a deeper emotion.
The girl's earnest, passionate feelings were so bright they made him avert his gaze slightly, and also feel a heavy pressure.
That pressure didn't come only from the girl before him. It also came from her teacher and her aunt.
Hecate and Circe were master and disciple. After he became closer to Circe, he'd already found it hard to face Hecate.
And now Medea as well,
One connection on top of another.
Hecate was probably going to explode.