Opening Preparations (3)
The Reynette family estate, on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital.
Its grand marble staircase and endless colonnades radiated an imposing grandeur designed to overwhelm any visitor who stepped through the gates.
Of course, this was my first time seeing it in person.
Even as an illegitimate son, I had once been the rightful heir of House Hartwell — a count's heir, in name if nothing else. For a man like that to call alone at the home of a count's daughter with deep roots in the capital?
It was a picture more than capable of stirring up misunderstandings.
Which meant, by now, it wasn't something I needed to worry about anymore. The man I was today was no aristocrat, just an ordinary businessman.
"Eugene? It really is you!"
As the door swung open, a woman in an elegant dress appeared.
Light-brown hair swept up into a half-tied style, eyes of a matching pale brown. Rachel Reynette — a friend I'd crossed paths with often in high society, close enough to call a real friend.
"How long has it been? You haven't shown your face at a single social gathering lately, and I haven't heard so much as a whisper about you. I genuinely thought you'd kicked the bucket."
"You know, for someone with such a refined face, your mouth remains as filthy as ever."
"If I talked prettily on top of it, I'd have far too many men swarming me, wouldn't I? And that sounds exhausting."
Rachel smiled easily. There was no shortage of self-assurance in that smile.
Not that I had any intention of contradicting her.
The lofty station of a count's daughter, paired with a beautiful face — that alone made her perfectly eligible bride material in the eyes of any man.
But I saw her a little differently.
Rachel was never simply 'a pretty noblewoman men chased after.' Among all the noble daughters I'd known in the capital, her eyes alone had always set her apart.
……Mostly in the mad direction.
Whatever anyone said to her, she sought only her own amusement. That was the woman I knew Rachel Reynette to be.
And so.
"I got thrown out of House Hartwell."
I stated the fact flatly, as if it were nothing.
Inside, of course, I was watching closely for her reaction.
Most nobles would gasp, or offer hollow condolences while quietly edging away. In aristocratic society, there was nothing quite as uncomfortable — or quite as worthless — as a cast-off illegitimate child.
And sure enough, Rachel proved to be different.
"Heh. And?"
Not an eyebrow so much as twitched. She simply curled her lips into a mischievous smile.
"Whether you're a Hartwell or not doesn't interest me in the slightest. You've always struck me as a little off in the head anyway."
"Funny — that's exactly how you look to me."
"Well then, birds of a feather."
I found myself briefly lost for words.
There was something about Rachel's brand of outrageous honesty that, oddly enough, put a person at ease.
"So what are you doing with yourself these days? Don't tell me you've just been drowning in liquor."
"I started a business."
"Hah! You, running a business?"
Rachel laughed like the very idea was absurd. But her eyes had already flooded with an enormous, glittering interest — and that much was impossible to miss.
"It sounds exactly like the sort of thing you'd love… Here, have a listen."
Rachel rested her arms on the desk and folded her hands together. I supposed that was her version of an attentive listening posture.
And then.
"Pfft—hah! Eugene, you are a complete lunatic. No, wait… you were always a lunatic. It's just that now you've graduated to looking like an even bigger one."
Having heard my business pitch, Rachel laughed harder than I had ever seen her laugh in my life. She laughed long enough that I started to feel awkward just standing there, and afterward she rubbed at the corners of her eyes as if wiping away tears.
Then, a smile still lingering on her lips, she said:
"But that's exactly why I like lunatics like you."
"………"
"Most nobles spend their lives trading the same power, the same marriages, the same tired conversation. It's dull enough to kill a person. But you? You've never once cared who's watching — you just do whatever the hell you want. And I adore that about you."
"I appreciate you giving me the benefit of the doubt."
She leaned back in her chair and propped her chin on her hand. Then she looked at me as though a rather delightful thought had just occurred to her.
"By the way — don't you ever work as one of those 'players' yourself?"
"Me?"
The question had never once crossed my mind.
Me, working as a host……
"Absolutely not. I'm in the business of making money with as little effort as possible."
"Hmm… That's a shame, actually."
For some reason, Rachel licked her lips. Then she pressed on.
"In that case, do you have any players who are actually fun? If you're not going to be there, I'd have no reason to bother showing up at all."
"So your interest in visiting Bloom has been piqued, I see."
"It's your business, for one, and the way you described it got me curious. Besides, you promised complete confidentiality, didn't you? You'll even handle my pickups in total secrecy."
That much went without saying.
At the end of the day, noble daughters would be drinking alongside men — and if word got out, their reputations would inevitably take a hit.
Which meant protecting our clients' identities was every bit as much Bloom's business as anything else.
I already had all the methods worked out, too.
Anyway — did I have a player capable of feeding Rachel's appetite for fun and thrills?
I did.
"There is one fairly entertaining fellow. He might suit your particular flavor, actually."
"Oh? What's he like?"
"How to put it simply… Let's just say he has a certain 'bad boy' air about him."
I pulled out a photograph and showed her his face.
"This one. He's wearing a mask in the picture, so it doesn't quite come through, but he's respectably handsome. Though — in complete contrast to that handsome face — he's a genuine lunatic."
"If the great Eugene himself is vouching for him, he must be entertaining. So this is your recommendation, then?"
I answered with a shrug.
"Of course, you'll have to win him at the auction before you get to play with him."
"Pfft."
At my not-quite-a-provocation, Rachel covered her lips and burst out laughing.
"Unless the Golden Princess herself shows up, I'd love to see anyone outbid me that day. Oh — and you want me to bring my friends along too, right?"
"That's right. Nothing too large a party, though — five at most? Anyone who loses the auction will, regrettably, have to settle for a Velos sightseeing tour instead."
Rachel nodded, indicating she understood.
"As it happens, I do have a few. Friends who keep telling me life has grown tedious — stuck with the same arranged marriage prospects, the same balls, the same parties, over and over again."
"I'd love to say I'm honored… but since they're all about to become my precious customers, I'm afraid sympathy is the only appropriate response."
I allowed myself a satisfied smile.
With everyone from middle-class civil servants to the nobility now lined up, Bloom's opening night had every customer base it needed.
All that remained was to turn all this preparation into flawless reality.
………
But speaking of which.
—Don't you ever work as one of those 'players' yourself?
For some reason, Rachel's words had been circling in my head ever since.
I had absolutely no intention of ever standing on that stage as a player, but……
The world has no such thing as 'absolutely.'
Which was exactly what made it frightening.
If Bloom succeeded and the business kept growing, I had the feeling that someday, just once, I might find myself up there working the floor.
Though even that daydream was only possible in a world where female customers actually wanted me.
With players of that caliber on the roster, would anyone with bad enough taste actually pick me?
Not a chance.
……At the very least, that was what I chose to believe. For now.
And then, the very day after I returned from my trip.
Back in Velos, I sat across from Louis in an unfamiliar building. His face was charged with even more excitement than usual.
"The building is fully finished, and all the inventory has arrived."
"And the players and the customer base are all secured."
"Which means…?"
"That's right."
Nearly two months of preparation.
The Empire's first women-only salon — the grand opening of Bloom was now right at hand.
"Let's start introductions with Fion. I've already recommended you to a wealthy noblewoman, telling her you're the one worth playing with. She'll raise the auction benchmark considerably right out of the gate."
"Boss Eugene? Mind if I ask one thing… That thing we talked about during training — is it really okay to use it?"
"Of course. As long as the customer is having fun, nothing else matters."
"Haha, God, I love how shameless you are."
The moment my permission landed, Fion licked his lips.
Unlike in the photograph, he wore no mask now, and his sharply visible eyes alone gave off the scent of a thoroughly dangerous man.
Simply put, he was in peak form — radiating every ounce of a host's ideal allure.
"Everyone's getting themselves in the right frame of mind. The guests will all be gathered in the hall in two hours."
With those words, a curious tension settled over the players.
It was Hermes who spoke first.
"Goodness… I find myself more nervous than when I take the concert stage."
"Yes. It feels stranger than the first time I ever held a real blade."
Kalian answered Hermes with clear sympathy in his voice. Joel wore a worried look and murmured, "Will I really be able to do this?" — and even Harlion, ever the picture of aristocratic poise, was bouncing his knee with nerves.
I looked them all over and nodded to myself.
Right. This was only natural.
Not one of them had ever done anything like this before, and dealing with people was inherently treacherous work for the uninitiated.
Especially when those people were noble daughters of the realm.
So being nervous was the healthy response — and honestly, it reassured me. At the very least, it meant nobody here was planning to coast through this half-heartedly.
"You'll be fine."
I clapped my hands together loudly, deliberately, to shake off the heavy air.
"Every one of you is an ace I hand-picked myself. If it turns out the work truly doesn't suit you, you can all just blame my bad eye. Simple, right?"
Naturally, every gaze in the room turned to me.
As the players' spiritual pillar, I had been about to continue with more warm, reassuring words, when——
"You lucky little bastards… Some of us can't even work as players and are slaving away like dogs, and you're nervous? If you're that nervous, trade places with me, you punks!!!"
Suddenly, Louis launched into a surprise protest.
His words were so heartfelt that a beat of stunned silence fell over the room — and then everyone burst out snickering.
"That's our Louis for you."
"For some reason, hearing that actually made me laugh."
"Damn it, that was not supposed to be funny!"
And so, for a good while afterward, Louis's mournful wails were said to have echoed through the halls of Bloom.