At the first light of dawn, the count's four-wheeled carriage stopped outside Baron Carman's residence.
The faint crunch of wheels over gravel woke the servant on night watch.
He hurriedly threw on a coat and peered out through the side door. When he recognized the count's thornflower crest on the carriage door, all traces of sleep vanished from his face.
Baron Carman was still groggy when he was awakened.
Wrapped in his dressing gown, he entered the reception room and found the old butler sitting upright.
The old butler wore a composed smile, but Carman knew that his elder brother, Count Lyman, had never been an impatient man.
Calling on someone before sunrise was almost a breach of etiquette.
In all his years, Baron Carman had never seen his brother behave so unusually.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the old butler explained his purpose.
"The countesses unanimously wish to invite Young Master Veylin to breakfast at the count's residence."
Before long, Veylin appeared at the door, fully dressed.
Carrying a suitcase, he calmly followed the old butler out of the residence.
The carriage rolled steadily toward the count's residence while Veylin rested with his eyes closed.
There was no need to work through the possibilities for today's meeting. From the moment he had handed over those two pills yesterday, the course of the deal had been set.
The carriage stopped in the rear garden of the count's residence.
As Veylin stepped out, his gaze swept across a neatly trimmed lawn, where a powerfully built Ironfang Mastiff was taking a stroll.
Its muscles bulged, its short black coat gleamed in the morning light, and its tail stood high.
Veylin remembered that, in the original owner's memories, this magical beast battle pet named Old Ironfang had already grown quite old.
Yet