"Father, this perfume must be fake, right?"
Dahlia turned to Joe, her eyes filled with disbelief. She had only ever heard of perfume being sold in the royal capital, and the one controlling it was none other than the Fourth Prince.
"It's real. I even bought a bottle for you—it's at home." Joe nodded firmly.
"You're not joking?" Dahlia frowned. She had never been fond of those overpowering, short-lived perfumes.
"Of course not. One bottle costs 12 gold coins." Joe said, still feeling the sting of the price. It wasn't cheap, but he had bought the best quality available.
He was confident that if it wasn't used, he could resell it next summer. The noble ladies would easily pay 15 gold coins for it then.
Summers were hot, and sweat was inevitable. The stench of sweat was something noblewomen absolutely despised—making it the peak season for perfume sales.
"What?! Twelve gold coins for one bottle? Why not just rob people? That's even more expensive than the ones in the royal capital!" Dahlia gaped in shock at the outrageous price.
"Alright, this perfume is nothing like the fake ones from the royal capital." Joe waved his hand dismissively. He had even bought a cheaper one for a single gold coin to test it out, and it was still in perfect condition—no unpleasant odor at all.
"What do you mean? How are they different?" Dahlia asked eagerly.
Perfume was a symbol of enormous profit. If her family could get their hands on it, even a mere 5% profit margin would bring in a fortune.
"The perfume provided by the city lord has a fresh, elegant scent that isn't overpowering. Most importantly, it has a shelf life of at least six months. The highest-quality ones can last over a year." Joe explained seriously.
He had agreed to the deal so quickly precisely because of this point—perfume was a guaranteed money maker in the royal capital.
Forget the gold coin profits—just the influence alone was enough to make it worthwhile.
Joe had always wanted to re-enter noble society. But in the royal capital, titles weren't for sale. Even the lowest rank of baron was strictly off-limits for purchase.
That was precisely why the nobles in the royal capital looked down on those from the outskirts—they considered themselves the only true aristocracy.
"T-this… how is this possible?!" Dahlia's eyes widened in shock as she struggled to process the information. Perfume with a shelf life of over six months—what did that mean?
It meant gold, piles and piles of gleaming gold coins.
It meant absolute monopoly and immense profits.
And what did the royal capital have the most of? Nobles. Not to mention wealthy merchants from other kingdoms who would pay handsomely for luxury goods.
Heart pounding, Dahlia immediately lowered her gaze to the paper, reading the listed quantities aloud in a tense voice.
"Ninety bottles of first-tier perfume, priced at 12 gold coins each... 180 bottles of second-tier perfume, priced at 8 gold coins each..."
Then, her eyes landed on the last item. Her breath hitched.
"And… one bottle of Supreme Realm Perfume, priced at 99 gold coins… Only three bottles are produced each year. The fragrance consists of seven layers of interwoven floral scents, creating a unique experience with each whiff. The box is hand-carved by a master craftsman over three days, and the bottle is made from the finest ceramic..."
"H-huh...?"
Dahlia clapped a hand over her mouth, staring dumbfounded at the description.
Ninety-nine gold coins for a single bottle of perfume?!
Would someone actually buy this?
Then, realization struck her.
It didn't even matter if it sold.
This was a marketing masterpiece.
By simply existing, Supreme Realm Perfume would elevate the entire Realm perfume brand into a luxury status symbol.
Anyone who dared to look down on Realm perfume would first have to buy the Supreme Realm Perfume—then they could talk.
Dahlia suddenly had the urge to see this Supreme Realm Perfume with her own eyes. A perfume worth 99 gold coins—just how luxurious could it be? And seven different scents interwoven together? It sounded almost unbelievable.
"You get it now, don't you?" Joe chuckled. "Just from perfume sales alone, we won't lose a single coin."
"I understand," Dahlia murmured, her expression complicated.
For the first time, she truly acknowledged Lucas.
He had surprised her too many times.
And this perfume—this was the first thing that truly stunned her.
Knock, knock, knock!
The door to the private room was tapped lightly before a waiter entered, carrying trays of food.
As plate after plate was placed on the table, an incredible aroma filled the air.
Dahlia froze, her stomach twisting in hunger.
This scent... it was unfair.
She hadn't eaten since the morning, and now this?
"Your dishes are all served. Enjoy your meal." The waiter said before exiting the room. Unlike large banquet halls, small private rooms didn't require servers to remain inside.
"Come, try this Grand Spirit wine." Joe said, pouring a small amount into Dahlia's cup before filling his own. The rest, he planned to take home and enjoy later.
Dahlia lifted the cup and paused.
"So clear?" She stared at the liquid in surprise.
White and crystal clear—completely unlike the usual cloudy, rough grain liquor she had seen before.
"Wait… is this different from regular barley wine?" She frowned, swirling the cup slightly.
"Of course, it's completely different! This wine is a true delicacy, while those barley beers taste like horse piss in comparison." Joe took a small sip, his face showing pure enjoyment.
"Is it really that exaggerated?" Dahlia poured a little of the clear liquor into her mouth. Her delicate face immediately scrunched up as she stuck out her tongue and exclaimed, "This tastes awful—way too bitter!"
"Hahaha… You're still young; you don't understand the joy of drinking." Joe laughed heartily. After all, how many girls actually enjoy alcohol?
"Haah… haah…" Dahlia gasped, fanning her mouth with her small hands. The liquor burned her throat like fire.
"Have some food!" Joe picked up a piece of fish and popped it into his mouth, narrowing his eyes with satisfaction. "The food here is top-notch—even better than the dishes in the palace of Siacan."
"Really?" Dahlia was doubtful. Everyone knew that the palace had the best clothing, the finest luxuries, and the most exquisite food in the entire kingdom.
She glanced at the two small wooden sticks on the table, then watched as Joe and Dale skillfully used them. Imitating them, she tried to grasp the chopsticks, only to find that her fingers felt completely uncooperative—she couldn't even pick up a piece of fish.
"Just use a fork. It takes a few days of practice to get the hang of chopsticks." Joe chuckled.
"Oh!" Dahlia awkwardly put down the chopsticks, grabbed the fork, and speared a piece of fish, stuffing it into her mouth. After just two bites, her teal eyes widened in shock.
"This is way too good!" She immediately forked another piece and popped it into her mouth. From that moment on, she couldn't stop.
"That canned fish you saw earlier contains this very same fish. The City Lord must have used some incredible method—this cooked fish can stay fresh for three to four months." Joe said casually.
"Cough, cough!" Dahlia nearly choked on her food. She blinked at Joe, her expression saying, You must be joking, right?
"It's true. You know how sought-after this fish is in the royal capital—I don't need to tell you," Joe continued, taking another sip of his drink. Then, with a slow, deliberate tone, he added, "Having five percent of the profits from these goods… in the royal capital's market, that's quite a generous cut from City Lord."
Dahlia lowered her head slightly, the corners of her lips curling up as she thought of that black-haired, black-eyed noble. For the first time, a man her age had truly impressed her.
"So, young lady—go win over City Lord!" Joe slurred loudly.
"Shut up, you shameless old man!" Dahlia shouted, her face flushed with embarrassment.
"Oh, come on! You're smart, and so is he. If you don't make a move soon, someone else will snatch him away."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear it! I'm going back to find Catherine!" Dahlia huffed, covering her ears as she stomped off.
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