Chapter Three
Freedom and Broken Promises
"Lelouch! You're too young to drink wine! Spit that out!" Cried Euphemia as her eyes widened at the crystal goblet in Lelouch's hands.
The raven-haired boy settled his glass down with a grimace on his face. "You don't have to tell me — it's disgusting. I'm never going to drink that again."
"You'll change your mind once you grow up." Clovis commented, taking a sip from his own. "Wine is the gods' drink. It provides courage and confidence."
"Yeah, courage — because you'll be too drunk to even care whatever embarrassing thing you'll be doing later on." Lelouch snorted as he cut his food.
It was a grand duke's party — or someone with such high status in court, Valentine didn't know who it really was. But as far as she was concerned, whoever the person was truly loves to throw parties, and everything around them — from the food, the decorations, and the music were nothing but lavish. And as part of the royal family — almost all of the Emperor's consorts and his children are of course, invited.
Valentine could remember being happy at that time. There was so much laughter and dancing and ball gowns that it was overwhelming. Everyone residing at the Pendragon were invited, and all were dressed in expensive silks and shining jewelleries — suiting nothing but costly perfection.
As Euphemia had mentioned, they all agreed to dance together right after dinner, which they were all having. Seated around a long table, it was a rare sight, even Valentine had to admit, since almost all of her half-siblings are there — including 18 year-old Schneizel, and Cornelia, as well as Clovis — who was 16 at that time. The adults such as Mother and the other consorts were separated on another banquet, but the Emperor's presence, though highly offered, was nowhere to be found.
Which was okay, as the young princess would think. Father doesn't have time for parties anyway, no matter how much most of them are thrown for His Highness' victories over the past years.
"Where's Guinevere?" Clovis asked, looking around the long table.
"She couldn't come." Cornelia replied, spooning potatoes on her plate. "I assume she's busy. Odysseus is too." She raised an eyebrow at Euphemia's plate, noticing the brightly colored vegetables scattered around the corners of her plate. "Euphy, eat all of them. You're not going to leave the table once you don't."
Valentine heard Euphemia's complaint from somewhere, but she didn't pay much attention since she too, was acting as a babysitter for Nunnally — who was seated just beside her, a doll in hand. She already had given up on forcing her little sister to eat, and instead, diverted her eyes back at Lelouch's area — where most of the older Britannian royal siblings were talking.
"I've got a question," Schneizel's sudden announcement made everyone in their table look at him. "If you're currently engaged in a sword battle to the death with an opponent who's definitely better than you are, what would you do? Do you fight on knowing you'll likely die, or will you stop the battle and beg for your enemy's mercy?"
The princesses rolled their eyes. With Schneizel being here, there isn't always a day where he wouldn't ask a strange question. No one knew what it was for, but it became a constant part of their life too. It was relief, rather, knowing that their brother is still the same — ever strange and ever clever.
"Fight." Cornelia answered instantly. "I don't want to give my opponent the satisfaction of seeing me afraid. I'd rather die than live as a coward."
"Beg mercy, that is." Clovis said, raising an eyebrow at his half-sister. "If it's clear that I won't win, then nothing is accomplished through my death. Better a coward than a cold corpse."
"How about you Lelouch?" Valentine watched as her brother looked up from his food, surprised at the sudden question. Young as he is, Lelouch was a boy born with an unusual intellect, and that obviously had piqued the interest of their blonde-haired brother.
"Beg mercy." He said after a while.
Cornelia snorted.
Lelouch didn't look at her and continued. "And when my opponent lowers his guard, certain of his victory, I'll attack."
"You've got no honor." Cornelia said, shaking her head in disbelief.
"What good is honor when you're already dead?" He shot back.
"Either way, you won't win. A master swordsman wouldn't easily lower his guard down until you're disarmed."
"Did Schneizel mentioned my enemy's a master swordsman? No. Only he was better than me. I won't check the rules to see if my survival fits with someone's codebook of fair play. Euphemia agrees with me, don't you?" He glanced at Euphy's way, much to the pink-haired princess' surprise.
Valentine noticed that Euphemia was on the verge of agreeing with him, but Cornelia's heated stare only made the young royal cower, torn between her sister and her half-brother. "Um…I-I don't know. But that's- um, that's cheating? And big sister said that cheating is definitely wrong."
The dark-haired prince harrumphed and bit hard on his steak. Meanwhile, Val eagerly waited for Lelouch to turn to her and ask for her side. She'll agree with Lelouch, of course. Not that because he's her brother, but because he actually has a point. It doesn't matter if people call you names for being afraid — it's okay to be afraid.
But Valentine's enthusiasm and excitement died down when a few minutes had passed. Her brother definitely didn't look like he wanted to ask her opinion. A jolt of hurt and irritation at both Lelouch and Euphemia shot right through her. Euphemia isn't as smart as Valentine. And Valentine is older than Euphemia by mere months. Why ask her? Why not Val?
Her smile instantly disappeared and was replaced by her usual look that almost resembled someone being slated clean. It was her mask — even her six year-old self knew she was already wearing one. Meanwhile, everyone seated at the table must've felt the tension hanging in the air for they tried to redirect Cornelia's and Lelouch's attention elsewhere, as both siblings were engaged in a staring contest so hard that sparks were almost flying.
Schneizel gave a mild chuckle. "There now, it was only a question. There's no need to be looking at each other like that. But I must commend Lelouch — that was exactly the answer I had in mind."
Cornlia scoffed but didn't say anything.
"Oh yeah?" The dark-haired prince finally commented, his face torn between annoyance and pleasure.
Valentine could only watch her older siblings bicker and about. After all, that's what she always do — sit on the side lines and watch the others go about their usual conversations, and strange logical arguments. For once in her life, the joyful cheer she has been feeling earlier had suddenly deflated like a balloon, now replaced by a feeling of loneliness. The music suddenly fell on deaf ears and she could hear nothing. When chance came for the Britannian siblings to come together, Valentine would always found herself watching. She was only an audience — an audience that loomed behind the shadows, and no one would go and even try to talk to her. No talking involved, but merely watching. She was quiet, yes, but if someone would try to engage her in a chat, she would always try to keep the discussion going. But no — even Lelouch would rather talk to Euphemia rather than her.
For the first time, Valentine felt so…empty. She felt so out of place.
Her indigo eyes flitted around. A sudden realization came into place — what was she feeling? This kind of emotion was…strange. She shouldn't be angry. She shouldn't be jealous. Lelouch loved her, doesn't he? She was his true sister. And Euphemia — Euphemia was always nice to her. Why would she even be jealous?
Panicked and overwhelmed, Valentine pushed her chair back so suddenly that everyone stopped in between their random jibes and looked.
"Val!" She could hear Lelouch's voice calling out to her. "Where are you going?"
Valentine refused to answer and kept on walking.
She didn't even look back.
It's not as if he cares, anyway.
Valentine gritted her teeth as the new memory came careening into her mind. Taken aback, she suddenly stopped her steps and covered both her closed eyelids with a slender palm. She couldn't think about it. Not now. She couldn't risk being distracted. Clutching the hems of the front of her dress, Valentine continued on with her pace and only stopped when she faced a seventy-foot wall of stone, carved with strange relics and symbols. By no other means, a dead end.
In a normal being's eyes, that is.
She placed a hand on the cold surface and shut her eyes. A flash of scarlet cut through the darkness. A dizzying feeling came and she could feel air whooshing down her ears. And the next thing she knew, Valentine was already standing on the stone steps of the temple that endless generations of Geass users had oh-so carefully built.
"Father, you called?" Valentine's jaw clenched as she spoke out, her voice calm and smoothly masked to hide the sound of her racing heart.
Charles zi Britannia turned around and the raven-haired Princess' stomach plummeted a few feet down. She knew it was not the Emperor's Geass ability, but Valentine could still feel her fingers twitching in anxiety. Which was ridiculous since she was his daughter. His own flesh and blood. Nothing could go wrong, right?
Wrong. Of course, everything could turn completely around. Charles was different — blood relatives doesn't matter that much to him. Valentine already knew that a long time ago, though it took her a few years to truly realize this.
"Clovis' body has just arrived." His words were strong and clear, truly a person born to have so much authority over people.
"I see." Valentine paused, choosing her words carefully. "Would you like me to manage his funeral? Or do you want me to bury him myself?"
"No, foolish girl." She flinched when he raised his hand, only to have it be waved once in dismissal. "I don't want to be bothered by mundane concerns like that. Clovis might be my son, but he hasn't proven himself worthy. There are people who can attest to that."
Valentine swallowed. "Yes, Father."
"But he did manage to provide information of something interesting."
Valentine ducked her head, not wanting to meet her father's eyes, for fear of having Charles see through all her dauntless and stoic façade. There was silence. Though her sight was settled straight in — focusing more on the cracks on one of the stone floors underneath her feet, Valentine could still feel the heavy weight of his gaze. He was studying her — and for one moment, she thought she was going to falter under his scrutiny. But thank the gods she didn't.
"I heard — " Valentine didn't know why, but she found herself suddenly speaking up, albeit hesitant. "I heard that Clovis was shot by a mere man who's after the crown."
The Emperor didn't even hid his disinterest. "Everyone is after the crown." He tilted his head. "Illiberal things such as rumors don't interest me. I couldn't care less about your brother. My children should know that there are people after your lives ever since the day you began to breathe. It's your own duty to look after yourselves."
"Yes, Father."
Valentine tried hard not to show her ever-growing curiosity. What was the real reason Charles had called her here? Surely, it's not about Clovis' death, isn't it? But no matter, she should wait. A good daughter always waits — no matter how much the time it takes for the truth to come out could kill her.
"Why, Valentine? Do you care so much about Clovis?" She couldn't help but gasp as her head snapped up, directly meeting her Father's violet-eyed stare.
Valentine swallowed but maintained composure. "He's my brother."
"Brother." The way her father had looked at her — his mouth curving into an amusement, Valentine felt anger flare deep down. She knew she was being looked down upon like some sort of toy. He was trying to test her sanity — to see how much she could cope when there's so much deaths around, especially with her blood-stained hands. Valentine felt sick, but she was already used at playing this kind of game.
She merely gave a small, sarcastic laugh. "But no matter, Clovis might be older than me, but he's nothing but a pawn. A useless one, at that."
Valentine shoved any shred of remorse or guilt deep down her throat. Her hands were balling into fists but no — she shouldn't feel anything. Nothing. No sense of conscience, no sense of what's right or wrong. No sense of humanity.
But no matter how much I try, I could still feel — even a little bit, she couldn't help but think, I'm human. I will always be human.
"Enough games." Charles suddenly snapped, and for one fearful moment, Valentine thought he had just read her mind. "We're running out of time — and the Order is proceeding with the preparations. I want you to be ready by the time we'll be done."
Valentine nodded, rigid with the sudden grasp of what the Emperor had just said. "Yes, Father."
"As of this time, I will be giving you to Schneizel."
Her eyes widened. "Schneizel?"
"The boy has talents, yes, though of little value. You and your brother will be providing assistance to any of the pitiful Areas that needs it."
Valentine remained rooted on the ground where she stood, speechless and wide-eyed. She couldn't believe what her father just said. Be with Schneizel…that means she's going to be up above the skies — riding on her half-brother's Avalon.
She suddenly felt like she was being set free. Temporarily, yes, but still…free. Valentine would trade anything just to leave Pendragon even for a little while. Indeed, her missions included going out of the capital for a few days — but those only require travel by the Thought Elevators and being escorted farther later on. But Valentine was away for a reason — and those reasons weren't perfectly humane. But this time…it was different.
"I'm going to bring my knight with me." Her words came out like an order more than a request. Because maybe that's what Valentine had truly wanted. There is no way she'll be leaving Alyn behind, no matter how much it'll only make him resume his old post to the Rounds, which wasn't so bad either. But Valentine couldn't imagine going out of Pendragon without him.
It was a selfish request. Just this time, Alyn. Just this time.
"Suit yourself." Charles then turned his back on her, signalling that it was time for her to leave.
Valentine nodded, her body shaking with relief and excitement. But a part of her forced her to stay calm — to think rationally. This was an odd order, and she knew that there has to be a reason behind this. But another part of her doesn't care. She was going to be free — as of the moment. But it was okay. In fact, it was more than okay.
"Valentine." She stopped dead in her tracks but did not turn around. What was going to happen? For a beat, Valentine felt panicking. Was that a fluke?
"Yes, Father?"
"Do not fail me."
She froze. Fail the Emperor? In what? He didn't exactly give out specific orders, right?
But whatever the reason for that command, Valentine only nodded.
"I won't, Father." She said flatly. "I won't ruin anything."
And she disappeared with a flash of light.
The delight must've been obvious on her face because once the young princess had stepped out of the corridors and closed the door behind her, Alyn was raising an eyebrow at her direction.
"I assume everything came out okay in the end, huh?" He said, smiling as well.
Consciously, Valentine resumed her normal stoic expression, but the corners of her lips were crooked in slight amusement. "It's a great day."
And it was. All of a sudden, Valentine forgot about Euphemia's departure or even Clovis' death. She knew it was utmost narcissistic of her, but she couldn't help it. It felt as if she was floating — dazed and overwhelmed by what's happening.
But she found herself wishing for the first time, as she walked down the Britannia Palace's halls with Alyn by her side, that nothing could destroy it. Not now, anyway.
