Roswaal's true objective?
If they knew that, they wouldn't have a headache in the first place.
"What if we just confront him directly?" Felt offered.
Gojo shook his head. "Let's wait for Subaru to get back. This is his problem more than anyone's. His call matters most. We're friends lending a hand, nothing more." He pushed off from the wall. "Come on, let's head home. Elsa, forget about Roswaal's job. Keep the money."
He glanced her way.
"If anything else comes up, let us know."
"Understood." Elsa nodded, then gave Meili's shoulder a gentle pat. Time to go.
The girl lingered, reluctant, but obeyed. She followed Gojo and the others back to the Astrea estate without complaint.
They returned still chewing over the Roswaal problem, but across the Royal Capital, the silver coins Felt had scattered that morning were already doing their work.
The messengers were Slums folk, nobodies by any measure. But nobodies were the most numerous residents in the entire city, and once a story started circulating among them, it multiplied like wildfire. One person told ten, ten told a hundred.
Better still, this particular story involved knights. The lofty, untouchable knights that common people rarely glimpsed up close. When it came to gossip about the powerful, human nature was universal regardless of the world. And for people at the bottom, people with no entertainment to speak of, who could resist a story like this?
Yesterday, Betty's solo demolition of the entire knight order had spread only in limited circles. Now it tore through the Royal Capital like a storm.
That afternoon, with Reinhard still away, a knock came at Felt's door.
"Lady Felt, Baron Leon Walker has sent a calling card. He's requesting an audience."
"A baron? Wanting to see me?"
Felt looked up from the Holy Gold Coins she'd been counting to pass the time, confusion plain on her face.
"Yes. If you'd prefer not to receive him, I can decline on your behalf."
"No, why would I refuse?"
The initial bewilderment faded as the gears turned. She thought back to the plan she and Gojo had cooked up. What had the whole point been? Squeezing money out of nobles. And here one was, knocking at her door, practically begging to invest.
This was a golden opportunity.
"When?"
"That would depend on your schedule, my lady. Once you've decided, I'll send a reply."
"Right... let me think about it. I'll let you know."
"Of course, Lady Felt."
The moment Carol left the room, Felt swept every last coin into hiding and sprinted for Gojo's quarters.
"Gojo!" She burst through the door without knocking. "Great news! The greatest news! A noble wants to support me!"
"Already? That was fast."
Even Gojo looked surprised.
"I know, right? He's only a baron, but it's a start!"
"'Only a baron.' Not that long ago, a baron could've had you killed without breaking a sweat."
"Things are different now." She was practically bouncing. "So when should I meet him? What do I say? What if I screw up and he decides not to invest..."
The words tumbled out in a breathless stream, like a girl preparing to meet the boy she'd been dreaming about. Except the object of her affection was cold, hard currency.
"So you want me to help you figure out what to talk about?"
"Exactly. What to say, what not to say. Walk me through it."
"Well..."
Carol's voice drifted in from the hallway before he could finish.
"Mr. Gojo, is Lady Felt in your room?"
"She is. Come in, Carol."
The door opened. Carol offered a small bow, a fresh stack of calling cards in her hand.
"Lady Felt, Viscount Lawrence Hall has also sent a card requesting a visit. Additionally, Baron Daniel Weiss and Mr. Halipa, president of the Halipa Merchant Company, have each submitted cards as well. You may receive them together or schedule separate appointments..."
Carol was still explaining the options when Felt's nostrils flared. She seized Gojo's arm and shook it with enough force to rattle his sunglasses loose.
"Did you hear that? Gojo, did you hear? This many people want to meet me! They want to support me!"
"I... I heard."
He clamped a hand on top of her head to stop the shaking and nudged his sunglasses back into place.
"If that many people want to visit, that's great. But for the rest of it, planning what to say, how to handle nobles, I'm useless. Let Carol help you. If you need me to punch someone, though, I'm your man."
The words snapped Felt back to reality. Excitement aside, she had no idea how any of this actually worked.
"Got too excited. Almost forgot the important part." She released Gojo's arm and darted toward Carol. "Carol, help me figure this out. Should I see them one at a time or all together? What do I talk about? How do I squeeze the most support out of them..."
Carol's face softened into a warm smile.
"There's no need to rush, Lady Felt. The cards only just arrived. We have plenty of time to prepare. Why don't we sit down and discuss it calmly..."
Her gentle tone worked like a balm, easing the girl's frantic energy.
"Right. Okay." Felt took a deep breath and steadied herself. "Let's talk through how to set this up."
Gojo watched the two of them settle into his room as if they owned it, launching into a full strategy session about noble reception etiquette. He sighed.
"Isn't this exactly what the study downstairs is for?"
"Shut up and get over here. You want your cut of the money or not?"
Felt stood with her hands on her hips, threat clear.
He raised both palms in surrender. "Fine. But I'm grabbing Betty and Meili first."
Misery loved company. If he was going to suffer, everyone suffered.
He returned with both girls in tow, shut the door behind him, and the torture began.
Receiving nobles was anything but simple. How to arrange the room for visitors of different rank, what topics to raise, how to steer the conversation. All of it needed planning. Beyond that, they needed background on each visitor. Understanding their interests and industries was the only way to maximize returns. The Mathers family, for instance, had deep ties to magical tool manufacturing. Leveraging that connection could multiply the value of any deal.
Then came the promises Felt had made at the Royal Assembly. Those concessions had a price tag, and it wouldn't be small. They needed tiers: a baseline contribution for minimum benefits, higher thresholds for better terms. Like running a business, the whole thing demanded a clear rate sheet.
Gojo knew absolutely nothing about any of this. Fortunately, he had Betty and Meili to throw into the trenches.
The entire afternoon vanished. Four people crammed into one room, wracking their brains to assemble something resembling a workable framework. Gojo, naturally, played the role of absentee manager.
By the time evening approached, they still hadn't reached a conclusion.
Reinhard, however, had returned.
"Already?" Gojo opened the door and blinked at him. "I thought you said Priscilla's domain was quite a ways off."
"I took a shortcut or two." Reinhard stepped inside, surveying the exhausted faces around the room with a quiet smile. "How did things go? Any luck on your trip?"
He shook his head. "The Silver Cup that supposedly cures any disease in the world is a fake. Nothing but a rumor."
Something dimmed in his expression, but he pressed forward.
"More importantly, I heard from Flam that Lady Felt seems to be struggling with something?"
"Reinhard, please help. My brain is melting." Felt stood up, groaning.
She was a thief from the Slums. Being able to count properly and read at all was already an achievement. Noble politics and business negotiations were so far beyond her that the words might as well have been in a foreign language.
"It would be my honor to help, Lady Felt."
He settled into her vacated seat and scanned the papers spread across the table, covered in scrawled notes and crossed-out diagrams. A quick read-through was all he needed.
"I see. I'll need some time to refine this and establish proper standards."
"How long? We should reply to those nobles and merchants by tomorrow."
"It will be ready by the time you wake up."
Reinhard nodded, the promise delivered with quiet certainty.
"Then it's all yours."
Someone willing to shoulder the burden was the best thing Felt had heard all day.
"Great. Finally, rest." She exhaled with her whole body. "I'm leaving the rest to you people."
And with that, she fled the room as if staying a second longer might trap her there permanently. Ask her to steal something, to take a risk, to run a con in the streets, and her energy was boundless. Ask her to sit through administrative planning and she wilted like a flower in a furnace.
With Felt gone, Betty and Meili wasted no time escaping as well. Carol excused herself to prepare dinner. Reinhard gathered the scattered papers and gave Gojo a nod, ready to head out.
"How was the trip?"
Reinhard's step faltered. He knew Gojo wasn't asking about the Silver Cup.
A silence settled between them, heavier than the question warranted.
"Perhaps the timing wasn't right."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
Neither pressed the subject further.
"On a different note, how much do you know about Roswaal?"
"The Count?" Reinhard tilted his head. "I'd imagine you know more than I do at this point."
He hadn't been present for Roswaal's late-night visit. He knew it had happened, but the specifics were a blank.
"Did something happen? It's unusual for you to ask about the Count."
"Nothing major." Gojo waved it off. "Forget it. Go finish Felt's assignment before she has a meltdown."
Reinhard accepted the deflection with a nod and left.
Gojo closed the door, lay back on the bed alone, and stared at the ceiling. Elsa's revelation circled through his mind.
"Roswaal..."
The word hung in the empty room.
The next morning, the Astrea household buzzed with activity from dawn. Servants arranged the reception room, prepared refreshments, and handled a dozen other logistics for the day's visitors.
By the time Gojo dragged himself out of bed, Felt had already finished with one noble and was receiving her second.
"You're up late." Betty sat in the dining room with a cup of tea, watching him shuffle in. "The first noble wanted to meet you, by the way."
"They're here already? I thought we weren't sending replies until this morning."
"For lesser nobles, the terms being offered are apparently impossible to refuse."
"Sounds like Felt's going to have a long day."
He dropped into a chair and started on breakfast at a leisurely pace.
"Think Subaru will reach Roswaal's place by noon? Wonder if the idiot will end up staying a few days."
"Don't say something that stupid. If he were capable of coming back quickly, he wouldn't be an idiot."
Betty's contempt was palpable. She clearly harbored no expectations.
"A couple extra days won't hurt, as long as he brings the Holy Gold Coins back in one piece. If he doesn't, Felt will eat him alive."
"Grimm's with him. Even an idiot should be able to manage something this simple with backup."
"True enough."
He nodded, polished off the last of his breakfast, and leaned back. Right on cue, Felt emerged from the reception room alongside a heavyset man, all smiles and courteous farewells.