Chapter 60

We entered a valley among the mountains.

This region has long been known as a land where mineral springs gush forth. Deep in the valley, white steam rose in thin trails.

Stone buildings lined the mountain slopes, their reddish-brown roofs continuing in tiers.

At the bottom of the valley, there was a small plaza, from which numerous bathhouses and inns drawing the hot water had been built.

Because it is known as a place of recuperation, nobles and knights also frequently stay here.

High up in the valley, there was a large building resembling a manor. The manor used when the Royal Family visits, the royal annex.

Scattered around it were villas built by lords and count families. Some had stone towers, some were equipped with small gardens, and some doubled as hunting lodges.

This place was not just a hot spring cure resort, but had become like a small town for nobles.

We advanced our steps. As we got close to the annex, the gatekeeper immediately noticed us.

“Your Highness Leonhart, we have been waiting for you.”

The gatekeeper placed his hat against his chest and bowed his head respectfully.

In the quiet valley, only the creaking sound of the gate echoed.

In the garden of the annex, a thin white mist mixed with steam drifted about.

I stopped my horse and slowly inhaled the air once. The distinct smell mixed with sulfur, and the mountain wind.

Is it close to a hot spring cure resort like Kusatsu, or a villa resort like Karuizawa?

Suddenly, a memory from the past crossed my mind.

During my university days, I once went to a hot spring resort with my seminar friends. While calling it a research training camp, in the end, we all just soaked in the hot springs and talked late into the night.

It’s a strange thing, I think.

Even having become someone in the position of a Third Prince in another world like this, just hearing the word “hot springs” makes my heart relax a little.

The Japanese fondness for hot springs might no longer be a habit, but rather—something like a trait of the people.

I let out a small breath.

Well, the reasoning doesn’t matter.

It’s a long-awaited hot spring.

If I can soak in the hot water, that will be enough.

The afternoon of the day we arrived at the hot spring resort.

First, I decided to go look at the bathhouse exclusively for the Royal Family.

The bathhouse for the Royal Family is built on the slope of the valley close to the source spring. It seems it is occasionally lent out to nobles as well. It was a two-story stone building; the lower floor was the bathroom, and the upper floor was a waiting room.

White steam rose from the gaps in the roof.

A single man stood at the entrance. An elderly man wearing a gray cloak. He is the manager of this bathhouse.

“Your Highness Leonhart. I have been waiting for you.”

He bows his head deeply. Since it is a facility exclusively for the Royal Family, naturally, there is someone entrusted with its management.

The temperature of the hot water, the management of firewood, the preparation of the bathhouse—his role is to oversee such things.

I walked inside the building. It was a spacious bathroom.

In the center was a large stone bathtub, and white steam was rising.

…However. I furrowed my brow slightly.

Strangely, many things were placed around the bathtub. Small tables. Plates. Jugs of wine. And wooden boards with stone pieces.

I asked the manager.

“What is this?”

The manager answered.

“They are meals for during the bath.”

“…Eat while in the hot water?”

“Yes. As it will be a long soak.”

I fell silent for a bit. Then, I pointed to another table.

“This is…”

The manager answered as if it were obvious.

“It is for gambling.”

“…Gambling.”

“Yes. Everyone often plays while soaking in the hot water.”

I looked at the bathtub for a while.

Drinking wine, eating meals, and gambling while in the hot water.

…Quite free, aren’t they.

I asked about one more thing that bothered me.

“Do you not change the hot water?”

When I asked, the manager tilted his head.

“…Change it, you mean?”

“I mean, make the hot water new.”

“Ah.”

The manager gave a small laugh.

“Your Highness. The hot water is not meant for purifying the body, but for warming it.”

For an instant, I lost my words.

“…You don’t wash your bodies?”

“Yes.”

It was an all too straightforward answer.

“Bathing is meant for soaking in the hot water and improving the circulation of blood. As for the body, one wipes it clean before or after, or uses perfumed oils.”

“Wipe…”

I unintentionally lost my words.

“…Is there no soap?”

The manager tilted his head once again.

“Soap, did you say?”

“It’s an oil that lathers. Something meant for washing the body, though.”

The manager thought for a bit, and then raised his voice in an “Ah.”

“Are you perhaps referring to the washing medicine made by kneading pig fat and ash together?”

“That’s it.”

“We do have it, but…”

The manager laughed as if troubled.

“Normally, it is not used in the bathhouse.”

“Why?”

“Because the oil would spread in the hot water.”

I looked at the bathtub again.

Indeed—if oil floated on top of hot water that is already murky to begin with, it would be too awful to look at.

“You don’t… make the hot water new?”

“No, Your Highness. The hot water is constantly gushing forth. We add to make up for what is reduced, so it becomes new by that amount.”

In other words.

This large bathtub.

It seems they continue using the exact same hot water the whole time.

Suddenly, I remembered bathing in the Royal Capital.

First of all, baths are not taken in a bathhouse—they are taken in the bedroom.

When night falls, the chamberlains carry a large wooden tub into the room. Then they burn firewood in a separate room and carry the hot water boiled in a cauldron into the tub.

To fill the tub, they have to make round trips over and over again.

That is quite heavy labor. That is why bathing is not something done so frequently.

At most, once every few days.

The time spent soaking in the hot water isn’t long either. Because there isn’t that much hot water in the tub, and it cools down quickly.

When getting in, a cloth is sometimes wrapped around the waist.

Because the chamberlains sometimes wipe one’s back, that is more convenient.

Naturally, one does not drink wine or eat meals. You soak in the hot water, wipe your body clean, and finish once you have warmed up.

And the used hot water is discarded each time.

Carrying out the tub containing the cooled hot water was also the chamberlains’ job.

Bathing in the Royal Capital was only to that extent.

Compared to that, the bathhouse before my eyes was like a completely different world.

A large stone bathtub.

The hot water is cloudy white, and steam is rising quietly.

But, looking closely—it is by no means clear.

It even looks as if something is faintly floating on the surface of the hot water.

If they don’t change the hot water, I suppose that’s natural.

…I have to get in this?

I unintentionally gulped.