On the third day after the Egg Tickets went on sale, just as a sliver of pale light appeared on the horizon, a long queue had already formed in front of the shop. Those at the front sat on the ground wrapped in thick blankets, while those at the back stood dusty from their travels, anxiously peering forward while munching on their rations.
“Don’t push! Don’t push! Form a line!”
The guards from the City Lord's mansion had already been reinforced twice. They were currently patrolling along both sides of the queue, keeping those who tried to cut in or get too close to the shop several paces away.
“It's only the third day, why are there more and more people?”
“What do you know? Today is the day of redemption for the first batch of Egg Tickets! Who wouldn't want to come and see the Princess's letter with their own eyes?”
“I rushed back from the northern camp overnight just to catch a glimpse of what that letter looks like.”
The queue was filled with the sound of people discussing among themselves, with expressions of either anticipation or anxiety on everyone's face.
Meanwhile, in a tavern at the edge of the plaza, things were even livelier.
“I'll say it again, this ticket is not for sale!”
“I'll give you triple the price! It's useless for you to keep it anyway since it's from the second batch. Even if you redeem it, won't you just use it to show off?”
“Showing off is still better than selling it to you!”
The argument grew louder and louder, almost escalating to blows. It took the tavern owner stepping in to separate the two, coaxing and soothing them to prevent any major trouble.
But in today's Windrest City, such minor conflicts were merely appetizers.
For the real protagonist was about to make an appearance.
Around ten in the morning, the shop doors opened, and Isha Val stepped out.
Today, she wore a light green robe, with the usual parchment scroll and charcoal pen hanging at her waist. Behind her, besides Lena, followed five attendants.
Each attendant carried a light wicker basket lined with straw, inside of which ten silver-white eggs were neatly arranged.
Right on top of each basket of eggs lay a letter. The envelopes were made of high-grade parchment, and their seals were pressed with a dark red wax stamp.
Even from several paces away, the distinct royal crest on the wax seal was enough to make everyone hold their breath.
In an instant, the crowd surged, and the guards immediately took a step forward to form a human wall.
Once Isha stood firm, her gaze swept across the excited faces in the front row. She pulled a list from her sleeve and unrolled it.
She glanced at the very first name on the list. Just as she was about to speak, a figure emerged from the crowd and stepped forward.
It was the middle-aged man who had purchased the Egg Ticket on behalf of his master three days ago.
Still dressed in his deep gray robes, he walked at an unhurried pace, stopping three paces before the shop steps. He bowed slightly with elegant composure, then presented the prepared Egg Ticket with both hands.
Isha glanced at him and, understanding his intent, did not read his name aloud.
After receiving the Egg Ticket and confirming its validity, she nodded slightly. She gestured for the first attendant to step forward before speaking, “Your master was the very first customer to purchase an Egg Ticket. Her Highness holds this friendship close to her heart.”
“Every step of Silver Sand Lake's growth is inseparable from supporters like your master.”
She spoke sincerely and solemnly, without any hint of perfunctory politeness.
Hearing this, the steward's already curved lips turned up a bit more. He watched the attendant present the basket, accepted it with both hands, and bowed once more.
Isha continued, gesturing toward the envelope in the basket. “You may verify it on the spot. The contents of the letter were written by Her Highness's own hand. If you have any doubts, feel free to raise them.”
The steward pondered briefly upon hearing this, then nodded.
He set the basket down, broke the seal with a finger that glowed with a faint light, pulled out the letter inside, and unfolded it.
The moment his gaze swept across the paper, his brow twitched. His polite smile suddenly gained a touch of genuine warmth.
The wording of the letter was proper yet affectionate, the handwriting upright and strong. At the bottom, besides the name and seal, was a brief handwritten postscript: “Give my regards to your master. May the winds and sands of the Western Region no longer trouble you.”
The steward carefully folded the letter, placed it back into the envelope, and looked up to bow to Isha once more, this time slightly deeper than before.
“Thank you. Please convey to Her Highness that my master's sentiments remain unchanged.”
Without saying more, he picked up the basket, turned, and left.
However, as he walked out of the crowd, some curious onlookers tried to follow him, only to find that he had already quietly vanished around the street corner.
Isha stood on the shop steps and looked down at the list again. “Second, Mr. Derrick.”
The moment she spoke, a figure came jogging out of the crowd, looking like a completely different person from the travel-worn adventurer of three days ago.
Today, Derrick wore a clean, dark brown short robe with fine thread embroidery along the collar and cuffs. His boots were polished, and even his beard was neatly trimmed. It was clear he had put a lot of effort into preparing for this moment.
He walked quickly to the steps. As he stood, he intentionally puffed out his chest, then handed over his Egg Ticket in what he believed to be a highly elegant manner.
Seeing his earnestness, Isha did not show the slightest hint of mockery. After accepting the Egg Ticket and confirming it, she simply offered the appropriate words of gratitude, “Thank you, Mr. Derrick, for your support of Silver Sand Lake. Her Highness will remember every friend.”
The tips of Derrick's ears turned visibly red for a moment. He took the basket from the attendant, but his gaze did not land on the silver-white eggs; instead, it was fixed entirely on the letter resting on top.
Isha looked at him and said in a gentle tone, “You may verify it on the spot.”
Derrick nodded and swallowed. His movements in breaking the seal were much clumsier than the steward's, but the moment he pulled out the letter and unfolded it, he went entirely still.
He stared at the letter for several seconds, and then the corners of his mouth began to curl upward, eventually breaking into a grin that he couldn't suppress.
“Ahem...”
He cleared his throat as if making a major decision, suddenly raising the letter a bit higher, and read it aloud.
“Mr. Derrick: Thanks to your kind favor, the green of Silver Sand Lake is enhanced because of you. May your path ahead be smooth and undisturbed by the wind and sand. Alicia von Augustus.”
By the time he read the last word, Derrick's voice was trembling slightly. He turned the letter over, showing the dark red seal on the back to the surrounding crowd.
“Did you all see that? The Princess's seal! Her Highness called me 'Mr. Derrick'!”
The crowd erupted instantly, with countless envious gazes falling upon him.
“Derrick! Sell me your ticket! I'll pay five times the price!”
“In your dreams!”
Derrick carefully folded the letter, tucked it into the pocket closest to his chest, and turned to leave. He had walked several steps before realizing he had forgotten the basket.
“Mr. Derrick.”
Isha's voice came from behind him, carrying a trace of a helpless smile. “Your eggs.”
Derrick froze. Turning around, he realized his hands were empty. His face flushed bright red, and he hurriedly ran back to pick up the basket.
The crowd burst into a fit of good-natured laughter.
“Hahaha... Derrick! Don't just celebrate, did you forget the eggs?”
“Those are Silver Sand Lake Eggs! They cost a silver coin each!”
Derrick shouted back as he ran, “This is way more important than the eggs!”
The laughter grew even louder, and even the guards maintaining order couldn't help but smile.
Derrick walked back into the crowd carrying the basket, where he was immediately surrounded by several sharp-eyed mercenaries. Some lifted the straw to look at the eggs, while others pressed him for details about the texture of the paper and the handwriting. Surrounded by them, Derrick's face was filled with irrepressible pride and joy.
While answering them, he occasionally reached out to pat his chest, making sure the letter was still there.
Soon, as the names on the list were read out one by one, the queue in front of the shop did not shrink but instead grew even larger.
Every letter bore the Princess's name and a handwritten postscript. Though the wording differed, each was addressed to the recipient by name, and all were written by hand.
That feeling of having a face-to-face conversation with the Princess made everyone who received a letter show a similar expression.
Standing on the steps of the shop, Isha watched the enthusiastic crowd before her, a proper smile always gracing her face.
She knew she had successfully completed the first phase of her task.
Rate on N.U.
