Veylin unfolded the letter.
Lilia's lively, graceful handwriting filled the page.
In her letter, she first described the bustle of the Royal Capital, the tedious one-upmanship of noblewomen at afternoon tea, and the young knights' ostentatious boasting.
Then she changed tack and came to the point-Count Lyman's business strategy for "The Last Knight Tournament."
This was precisely what Veylin had commissioned her to investigate.
The count's methods were masterful. For his opening move, he had chosen an elderly, frail count troubled by the question of heirs.
That old count's only son was notoriously sickly. After taking the potion, he had displayed such "virility" in bed that even his wife struggled to adjust.
Within mere weeks, good news arrived: his wife was pregnant.
The incident caused a stir in the Royal Capital's most exclusive circle and became a topic of conversation on many lips.
"The Last Knight Tournament," with its romantic name, began spreading through the private banquets and hushed conversations of the great noble houses.
The count had even set an exceptionally high bar for purchasing the potion.
Buyers had to possess sufficiently noble status. Money alone would not open the door.
This only led lesser nobles, unable to buy through legitimate channels, to pay several times the price on the Black Market.
At the end of the letter, Lilia relayed Count Lyman's delight and speculated that he would soon send someone to ask Veylin to increase production.
After reading it, Veylin brimmed with ambition.
Sure enough, in a world built on bloodline inheritance, the number of children meant not only a family's continuation but also directly affected its future prosperity.
He penned a short reply and slipped it into the message tube. The magnificent messenger falcon spread its wings and soared away, disappearing into the sky toward the Royal