Because Reinhard was not the head of the Astrea Family.
He could only represent himself, pledging support to Felt as an individual knight.
"Not the Family Head?"
Gojo's expression turned strange.
He'd never witnessed Reinhard's power firsthand, but the rumors alone painted a vivid enough picture. A man whose strength made an entire kingdom wary, yet who couldn't even steer the affairs of his own household.
How is that not a joke?
It reminded him of the Gojo Family before he'd crossed over. Even before he'd formally taken the reins, his word carried enormous weight within the clan. Short of something truly outrageous, whatever he wanted, he got. And as he'd grown older, that influence had only expanded. The family had been his to command in all but name.
Compared to that, the Astrea situation was the polar opposite.
"Who's the current Family Head?"
"Reinhard's father. Beyond that, I don't know much."
Felt shook her head.
"Sounds like Reinhard and his father don't exactly get along."
A prodigy bound by family protocol could be chalked up to principle. But when the source of that constraint was his own father, the picture grew more interesting.
If the two had a normal relationship, Reinhard wouldn't have shut Felt down outright. He would have offered to discuss it with his father, feel things out. Instead, he'd given a flat refusal.
"Doesn't matter." Gojo tossed a Holy Gold Coin into the air and caught it. "Whether we have Astrea backing or not, it's not a dealbreaker. Nice to have, sure. But we'll manage without it. Getting Reinhard's support at all was already more than we'd planned for."
He pocketed the coin and turned toward the door.
"Let's go, Meili. Time to visit your dear Elsa."
"Coming!"
Felt watched the two of them leave, along with her five Holy Gold Coins, and drove a furious fist into the air behind his retreating back. Then she stomped off toward her own room.
With Meili in tow, Gojo descended to the first-floor hall and found Grimm still up.
"Mr. Grimm, burning the midnight oil?"
Gojo greeted him with the ease of someone who'd lived there for years. Grimm couldn't speak, but he offered a courteous bow in return.
"We can't sleep. Thought we'd take a stroll outside."
Grimm held up a finger, disappeared into a small alcove behind the staircase, and returned with a key. He gestured for them to follow, leading them through the courtyard to the main gate. Once the lock clicked open, he placed the key in Gojo's hand.
"Much appreciated, Mr. Grimm. I'll lock up when we're back and leave the key on the staircase. That work?"
A nod. Grimm watched them go, then turned back inside.
"Alright, Meili. You're up."
Once they'd cleared the Astrea grounds, Gojo released her hand.
"No problem. Leave it to me!"
She beamed and stretched one small hand toward the sky. No incantation, no dramatic gesture.
A bat descended from the darkness and landed on her palm.
"There we go. We just follow it." She stroked the creature once, then launched it back into the night.
They trailed the bat through quiet streets until they reached the edge where the Commoner District bled into the Slums. It circled once and dropped in front of a shabby inn.
"This is the place."
"More precisely, this is." Gojo steered Meili into a narrow alley beside the building. A tall figure stood waiting in the shadows.
"I thought our reunion would be somewhere a bit classier. An alley wasn't quite what I had in mind."
"My apologies. Without any assassination contracts, funds have been rather tight. Another two days and I'd be sleeping in the gutter."
Elsa stepped out of the darkness.
Pale moonlight caught her skin, lending it a cold luminance. Her red lips curved in a smile that was equal parts alluring and lethal, the kind of beauty that killed as readily as it charmed.
"Then I've got perfect timing."
Gojo flicked the Holy Gold Coins her way.
"Not as generous as Roswaal, but it should cover your expenses for a while."
"How kind." Elsa caught them and rolled the coins between her fingers, studying them with amusement.
Truthfully, she hadn't expected money from him. From the very beginning, theirs had been an adversarial relationship. He'd leveraged Meili to keep her in line. Forget receiving payment; if he'd ordered her to go out and earn money to hand over, she wouldn't have dared refuse.
"Has Roswaal contacted you since?"
"No."
"But Mother has."
The words landed casually, but the weight behind them was anything but. Elsa watched Gojo with a half-smile, waiting.
"The Witch of Lust?"
He clicked his tongue. "The Royal Selection assembly is almost here. Once it starts, the Royal Capital becomes the most heavily guarded place in all of Lugunica. If your so-called Mother isn't afraid of dying, she's welcome to show up."
Elsa's smile widened, but she said nothing.
"If Roswaal reaches out again, tell me immediately." He shifted gears without pause. "Also, what do you know about Reinhard?"
"The Sword Saint?" She tilted her head. "Only what the public knows. But if you're after something deeper, private information about him or the Astrea Family, that I could dig up."
"Can you?"
"Yes. I'd just need a few days."
"When you have something, use Meili's Mabeasts to pass it along. I imagine you'd rather not run into Reinhard yourself."
"Actually, I find the Sword Saint's intestines quite fascinating. If you could arrange for me to have a feel, I might genuinely fall in love with you."
And with that single sentence, the conversation died.
This woman's head is cracked wide open. An absolute lunatic.
By the time they returned to the Astrea estate, it was deep into the night. Gojo locked the gate, left the key on the staircase, and collapsed into bed the moment he reached his room.
He slept until late the next morning before finally dragging himself upright.
The first thing he saw was Betty, perched on the windowsill with a book in her lap. A tray of breakfast sat on the table beside her.
"Morning, Betty."
"It's nearly noon."
She didn't look up.
Gojo didn't press it. He shuffled to the washroom, splashed water on his face, and came back ready to eat. The moment he cracked the window open, he spotted Felt in the courtyard below. She stood rigid under the blazing sun in a gown so ornate it bordered on absurd, her face the picture of misery. Carol stood before her, apparently mid-lecture.
"Betty, what's Felt doing out there?"
He spread jam across a slice of bread, curious.
"Etiquette training."
"She has the patience for that?"
He chewed, genuinely surprised. Felt was constitutionally incapable of sitting still. Reading bored her senseless. Etiquette, with its endless rules and rigid postures, should have been torture for a girl raised on the streets of the Slums.
"She is the greediest person Betty has ever met."
Betty set her book down and rested her chin in one hand, gazing out the window.
"She had no intention of learning. Then Subaru told her it would help her make a better impression at the assembly, which would make it easier to swindle people out of money. She started immediately."
"Yeah, that tracks."
Gojo nodded and stuffed the rest of the bread into his mouth.
"Speaking of Subaru, he must be pretty lonely without Emilia around."
"Don't waste your worry on that fool. He skipped breakfast this morning and ran off to Roswaal's mansion. Said he'd be back by evening."
Gojo's mouth twitched.
Subaru never failed to surprise.
"Wasn't he going on about learning swordsmanship from Reinhard?"
"Does Betty look like someone who keeps track of every idiotic thing an idiot does?"
"If he ever finds out that's how you see him, he'll be devastated."
"Swap me out for Emilia and he might actually try dying over it."
After breakfast, Gojo headed down to the courtyard with Betty. Felt was still suffering through her training, and Reinhard stood nearby, watching over her with quiet attentiveness.
"Morning, Reinhard." Gojo strolled up beside him. "Don't you need to report to the Knight Order? Slacking off doesn't seem very knightly."
"I've already requested leave." Reinhard kept his eyes on Felt. "And going forward, as Lady Felt's knight, I'll be stepping back from my duties with the Order for the time being."
"Got it." Gojo paused. "By the way, what do you know about the Royal Selection assembly?"
"Beyond the formal announcement that all candidates have been gathered, each one is expected to deliver an address. They'll lay out their vision and goals, giving the ministers and nobility a chance to evaluate them."
As Reinhard elaborated on the details, Gojo listened and muttered under his breath.
"That's a headache."
They were already down one public supporter compared to every other candidate. That alone was a serious disadvantage. And while Felt carried royal blood, her origins in the Slums only widened the gap.
Which meant, as things stood, no minister or noble with half a brain would back her. Zero investment potential.
There was only one path forward: walk into that assembly with a proposal compelling enough to turn heads.
The whole thing was basically a corporate pitch meeting. Each candidate got up and presented their version of a slide deck. Whether or not they could deliver was secondary. What mattered was making the pitch dazzle, making the plan irresistible. That was the advantage you won before the game even started.
Their strategy was the same. Results could come later. First, get people invested.
"Is something wrong?" Reinhard asked, noticing the furrow in Gojo's brow.
"Reinhard, how's your writing?"
The question came out of nowhere. Gojo dropped a hand onto Reinhard's shoulder.
"I'm afraid that isn't my strength. I've spent far more time holding a sword than a pen."
"That makes things tricky. Felt doesn't have a single public supporter. No particular strengths or advantages to lean on. It's just us. Compared to the other candidates, we're completely outmatched. Without a strong speech on top of all that, we're dead in the water."
He turned to the spirit hovering nearby.
"Betty, you've read an entire library's worth of books in the Forbidden Library. Surely you could give it a shot?"
"Betty reads magic texts. They have absolutely nothing to do with what you're describing."
The refusal was instant and total.
"A speech..."
Reinhard fell silent for a moment, thinking. Then he looked at Gojo.
"Gojo, do you know what Lady Felt's long-term vision looks like? Her goals, her aspirations?"
"Well, obviously it's about making mon..."
The words died on his tongue. Under Reinhard's clear, searching gaze, Gojo straightened up and declared with absolute sincerity:
"A revolution that makes everyone richer."
Reinhard blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. "Revolution?"
"Think about it." Gojo puffed out his chest, radiating conviction. "A new ruler needs new policies. Only through reform, through change, can a nation build real prosperity."
Reinhard studied him, sensing something slightly off but unable to pin it down. He nodded.
Gojo, meanwhile, was warming to his own pitch.
"You know Felt grew up in the Slums. Nothing but hard days, one after another. You must have seen it yourself on patrol. If Old Man Rom hadn't been there, she probably would have starved to death as a child."
He let that sink in.
"So yeah. Prosperity. That's Felt's driving purpose."
Reinhard considered this for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
"I see. Then I think I understand."
He met Gojo's eyes. "I'll try drafting a speech for Lady Felt. Once I have something, everyone can weigh in."
"Hold on. Didn't you just say this wasn't your thing?"
Gojo eyed him, suspicious of the sudden turnaround.
"As Lady Felt's knight, it is my duty to ease my liege's burdens."
Reinhard said it with a warm smile and the gravity of a vow.
"What an admirable quality. Like staring straight into the sun."
"You're exaggerating, Gojo."
They exchanged a few more words before Reinhard excused himself, already deep in thought as he walked away to begin working on the speech.
...
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