The previously hazy atmosphere of the bathhouse grew clear. Aside from the two of them, there was no sign of a third person. Seeing that Gojo Satoru had indeed departed, Ram's eyes lowered slightly, falling upon Roswaal before her.
"My apologies, Lord Roswaal."
Roswaal shook his head, reaching up to place a finger against his lips in a soft "shh." He then narrowed his eyes slightly, appearing to relax completely as he prepared to enjoy Ram's service. Seeing this, Ram said nothing more and began to scrub his back with meticulous care.
Having enjoyed a thorough soak, Gojo Satoru walked toward his room in high spirits, dressed in light bath robes and humming a little tune. In his mind, however, he was constantly dissecting his recent conversation with Roswaal.
An aristocrat with a long-standing lineage, a noble with immense financial power, a lord supporting a Royal Selection candidate... No matter how one looked at it, Roswaal's conduct was peculiar.
Setting aside his dress and speech patterns, which defied all noble etiquette, the mere fact that such a massive estate was maintained by only two maids was fundamentally irrational. Though modern society differed from an Isekai world, certain things remained universal—such as aristocratic vanity.
Under what circumstances would a noble slash expenses? Inevitably, it would be when they had fallen into ruin. Back in his own world, during his casual studies of history, Gojo had learned a bit about this. Many nobles, even after their downfall, would desperately keep up appearances to prevent others from noticing their decline.
But Roswaal? He was entirely different.
If his behavior and dress could be explained away as being an "eccentric," and the lack of guards could be attributed to his own immense strength... was the dismissal of the other maids truly just because he "didn't want them to be involved"?
Even if one could barely accept those excuses, the situation surrounding Emilia still didn't add up. The spirit Puck, who was contracted to Emilia, was undeniably powerful—but he was essentially only useful during the day. At night, any reasonably agile assassin could kill Emilia before she even realized what was happening, let alone summoned Puck.
Others might not know this, but as Emilia's supporter, Roswaal certainly did. Given such a glaring weakness, any rational person would have arranged for a powerful guardian just to be safe.
Competing for the throne wasn't child's play. Even struggles between corporate heirs involved assassinations, to say nothing of a crown. This was precisely what Gojo Satoru couldn't understand and found so strange. From his perspective, the entire setup was riddled with suspicious points.
Originally, these matters wouldn't have been worth his attention. As Felt had said, their goal from the start was clear: get some money and leave to live a comfortable life. But after learning that Felt was also a candidate, a few different ideas had begun to take root in Gojo's mind.
It wasn't that he was interested in ruling or anything of the sort; he had zero desire for that. On the contrary, what if he turned this situation into a way to make money?
Squeezing a sum out of Roswaal was a one-time deal. Once it was over, there would be no follow-up. But if they used Felt's identity as a front to turn this into a sustainable, long-term trade... It was hard to say what the final result would be, but at the very least, they would never have to worry about money for their daily lives again.
Gojo felt that if he told Felt about this idea, she would absolutely agree, given her money-grubbing nature.
The only thing to consider now was whether Roswaal was an easy target to play. This was why he had been beating around the bush during their chat—he had to figure out what Roswaal's actual attitude toward Emilia was. Judging by his current performance, there seemed to be a decent opportunity. He just needed to find more time to observe.
Just as he strolled back to the vicinity of his room, he saw Rem holding a tray, standing before his door as if she were about to knock.
"Miss Rem?" Gojo said, sounding somewhat surprised. "Is this some kind of special late-night room service?"
"Please refrain from using such suggestive and ambiguous language, guest."
"Rem simply wishes for the guests to have a better experience during their stay," Rem said calmly, showing the items on the tray to Gojo while introducing them.
"Fluffy Clouds Sugar."
"A dreamlike dessert crafted by first-class confectioners. It is almost indistinguishable from the clouds in the sky. It is highly priced and very famous in the Royal Capital. I thought, given your preferences, you might like it."
"Miss Rem, you really are an angel," Gojo couldn't help but say as he looked at the dessert on the tray. "You're so much more considerate than that little blonde brat."
"I heard that, you jerk!"
Felt's voice came from behind him, accompanied by the sound of something whistling through the air.
Gojo casually caught the shoe Felt had thrown from behind him and shrugged with a look of helplessness. "See? Exactly like that."
"Please remember to brush your teeth after eating the sweets, guest. If there is anything else you require, please seek out me or my sister—lecherous requests notwithstanding."
Rem didn't react much to Gojo's teasing. Acting with professional detachment, she finished her delivery, gave her instructions, and left.
"Already been captivated, have you?" Felt leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, one foot dangling while her toes curled in a cold sneer.
"Did she bring you stuff too?" Gojo tossed her shoe back and spoke casually.
"She brought a bunch of pretty clothes, but I didn't want them..."
"You should have taken them," Gojo interrupted.
"We're here to get money, not to go on vacation..." Felt said impatiently.
"That's exactly why you should have taken them," Gojo repeated, causing Felt to pause.
She stared at Gojo's masked face for a moment, seemingly trying to read something from it, but she came up empty-handed. After a moment of silent hesitation, Felt huffed.
"Fine, fine. But if you don't give me a good reason later, I won't let you off easily."
Felt waved her small fist in a warning, then turned and went back to her room.
Watching Felt close her door, Gojo smiled. He took the tray and returned to his own room. There were some things he planned to tell her later, once he was a bit more certain.
"Fluffy Clouds Sugar, huh?"
"What a lovely name," Gojo said with a smile, looking at the dessert on the tray.