"How is it, my lord?" The person in charge couldn't help but inquire cautiously after seeing that the Lord didn't react for a while.
"Uh... the fruity aroma is quite strong," Lance smacked his lips.
To say Lance understood wine would be giving him too much credit. He never really liked it in his past life or this one and hadn't drunk much of it. Even if you placed world-famous wines in front of him, he couldn't tell them apart. They weren't as tasty as soft drinks.
On the other hand, ask him to distinguish between two cans of Fatty's water—whether one is Coke and another is Pepsi—that would be easy.
Lance knew exactly who this wine was aimed at: wealthy young ladies, noblewomen, and other affluent women.
As for taste and flavor, they wouldn't care. All they needed was for this wine to have a prestigious name.
Like beauty enhancement, a symbol of status, or becoming more attractive to men after drinking it...
Women weren't drinking wine; they were drinking stories.
