'

She ran toward him, whom had his arms wide open, welcoming her. Her long hair flowed softly in the wind as he picked her up by the waist and twirled her around. A laughter escaped her lips. And he spun and spun. Then, he lowered her, hands still in place, eyes glued to each other. Their faces inches from one another and lips almost touching…

A walnut hit his head.

"What the?" muttered Lelouch. He sat up and looked toward the direction where the walnut had come from and spotted Rivalz standing in the doorway.

"What's that for?" Lelouch asked.

"Your record is officially broken, Lelouch," Rivalz answered, amused. "You have overslept for the first time!"

The raven-haired teen massaged the back of his head, grunting something. He then glanced toward the window. The curtain had been drawn and sunlight poured in, creating bunches of colorful dots on the white clean tiles. Lelouch didn't remember drawing the curtains.

"So are you going to be out of bed right now or you want another walnut?"

"Okay! Geez, you're so bossy today, Rivalz," Lelouch said. He sprung up from the bed and stared at his friend. "If you don't mind, I have to get dressed," he said flatly, to which Rivalz laughed and waved his hand dismissively. "Sure. See you in a sec." And the door closed.

When Lelouch walked into the kitchen, he was hit by the eerie quietness of the place. No one buzzing around, shouting, bumping into each other. No clattering of silverwares. The only audible sound at all were the whisperings and soft talking of the servants lazily ambling about.

He raised an eyebrow and strolled toward the young brunette standing near the counter, whom seemed to be mixing something in a baking bowl. "Hey, Lisa, is everything okay?"

She nodded without turning. "Of course, why would you ask?"

"Because it's so quiet in here."

The corner of her lips jerked up into a small smile as she answered. "Oh, that's because Madame just came by earlier and said there's no need for cooking today. Afterall, we still have tons of leftovers from yesterday."

Now that last statement made his eyebrow go even higher, touching the hairline. "Leftovers?" he repeated. "The master and mistress are going to eat leftovers?"

The brunette shrugged. "It is Madame's idea." Then she lowered her voice. "I'm not complaining. I mean, when was the last time we get to have a free day huh?"

"Hey, Lisa, where do you want this put?" A voice called out before Lelouch had a chance to answer. He glanced in that direction and froze.

So did the voice's owner.

Lisa didn't seem to find a change in the atmosphere so she went on innocently. "Let's put it here, Euphie. I want this cake done before noon."

"Euphie, can you come here for a second?" Lelouch asked politely as he grabbed her arm and pulled her away. His grasp contradicted his tone.

When they got to one of the hallways where golden-framed portraits of ancestors hung neatly on the walls and sunlight shone and reflected off them. Making sure they're out of earshot and free of people, Euphie gently shook herself from his grip. "You're hurting me, Lelouch," she said.

"Well, I'm not letting go until you give me a satisfying answer," he replied coldly. And to keep his word, he tightened his hold on her and she flinched back in minor pain.

"Lelouch…"

"What happened last night? What were you doing down there with the master?"

"N-Nothing."

"Don't give me that crap. Even a retard can guess what you two were up to," he hissed.

Tears brimmed her eyes. She whimpered while futilely trying to shake free. "Then why are you asking me when you already know the answer?"

His grasp hardened to the point nails dug into her pale flesh and she yelped. Tears were now trailing down and she bit back the sobs.

"Because I want confirmation! Tell me, Euphie." He almost shouted. Now, he wasn't sure if he could keep his tempers in check anymore had Euphie kept beating around the bush. He shook her again to get her attention. And the sobs came out.

"Lelouch… I… I'm sorry… I don't… oh God…" She wiped her free hand over her reddened right cheek, but the tears kept flowing out and she kept wiping them, until it was obviously useless to conceal the evidence. It was then that she crumbled to the ground and cried with her face buried in her hand. He let go.

"I'm sorry, I am so sorry, Lelouch… Please… forgive me."

By the time she looked up, he was long gone.

"Ahh, there you are."

He looked sideways and saw C.C. saunter toward him. She was dressed casually in a white dress with ornaments decorating around the waist and the upper half of the puffy dress. The lower half of the dress had many thin layers, and the thinnest was embroidered with small, blue sapphire gems. Her hair was loosely made into a French braid bun.

"Good morning, Madame," Lelouch bowed slightly.

C.C. frowned at his reaction. "You have short-termed memory, don't you?"

"Pardon?"

"I just told you something important yesterday and now you forgot it," she replied.

Lelouch quirked up an eyebrow as he rummaged his brain, trying to remember that significant bit that she had told him. After a few seconds, it dawned. "Oh," he said dumbly, then cleared his throat. "My sincere apology, let us start over again." He straightened up and smiled slightly at her. "Good morning, C.C."

She smirked. "Much better."

Turning around, C.C. was met with a cool breeze coming from the deep blue ocean below. Its scent was pleasant and fresh and had a tint of salt in it. The sun hadn't fully risen above the horizon yet, which was why it gave off this light, beautiful and mysterious shade of red. It wasn't the deepest color of red that the evening sun showed, but the gentle pink that signaled a beginning of a new day.

The cliff wasn't far from the castle, and there was forest surrounding it. Lelouch could hear the chirping of birds somewhere close by, the rustling of leaves. He had taken the liberty of making C.C.'s peace-spot – that's what she called it – his. With C.C. standing there, everything was perfect. The air was nice, their surroundings fairytale-like. It was as though it were a mere dream, except for one flaw.

Lelouch clenched his fist, unclenched, clenched it again. He had to stop thinking about what just happened at the mansion.

"Are you okay?" C.C.'s distant voice asked him. He whipped his head around, startled. "Sorry?" he said.

She studied him for a split second. "You seem pale," she answered.

"Don't worry about it," he muttered. Then he turned on his heels and was about to bow to her when suddenly remembered his promise. So he held his pose. "I have to get back. You should, too, if you don't want to catch a cold."

The birds were taking flight. C.C. looked at them fluttering away. "Suzaku left before I woke up today," she said. Her long bangs were obscuring her eyes; Lelouch fought the urge to tuck them behind her ears. He waited for her to continue.

She then took a deep breath of the morning air, exhaled, and went on. Her hands clasped behind her. "What will I do if I go back there? Stay in my room or the library? Read? It's cold in there." She turned toward him, shaking her head. "You wouldn't understand."

Lelouch imagined the party from yesterday. The kiss she had given him on the cheek. The sight of Euphie and Suzaku emerging from the dark, dusty basement together, clothes slightly disheveled. Euphie's tears when Lelouch confronted her. The way she trembled, whimpered, begging him to not make her say it. C.C.'s sad eyes and tone.

He felt like his airway was being restricted. He needed to get back fast.

"I have to go," he said dryly, turning around quickly.

"Wait," she called out, halting him almost immediately. When she had gotten his attention, she said, "Do you want to go somewhere with me?"

His legs were screaming at him to continue moving forward while his mind challenged them and demanded him to nod. After a fierce battle, the latter won, and he nodded. "Sure, where are we going?"

The market was incredibly vacant today. As strange as it may sound, it was the truth. There weren't that many stands around or people walking, bargaining with the sellers. The stands that were there were doing poorly; many of the owners were sitting and chatting with their friends. Occasionally, a few customers showed up, and the sellers jumped right up from their stool, started the bargain right away.

Normally, the market was crowded, there would be hardly any space to walk. Not today, though.

"Why is it so empty?" C.C. asked no one in particular, her brows furrowed.

Lelouch shook his head, saying. "You don't have to do this. There are hundred of servants doing the shopping for you. Besides, you just recovered from a—"

She cut him off with a dismissive wave of a hand. "Please. I'm pretty convinced that illness didn't just go away like that. A physician makes mistake all the time, you know."

Not this time, he thought.

"Look!" C.C. was pointing toward the apple stand. She turned back to him, beaming for the first time. "See? If someone shopped for me, they wouldn't be able to pick out the best apples, or apples that I want anyway."

He chuckled. Her love for apples never changed.

"Well, I'll go get the bread then, saves us time," he said while looking through the list. She nodded and hurried away.

Lelouch believed that if she hadn't disguised herself as a commoner, they would be swarmed by other commoners by now. Afterall, she was a royalty, and royalty wasn't supposed to be in places like this.

Just as he was walking toward the bread stand, he thought he saw a dark shadow out of the corner of his eyes. A darting dark shadow. Of course he didn't care. Why would he care about a shadow?

Unless that shadow had everything to do with him.

Lelouch dropped the list, the basket. His knees shook, his hands went numb, even his heart rates accelerated dangerously as if he were suffering a heart attack. No doubt his mind turned blank, and the last thing he remembered was his crashing to the hard ground, eyes tightly shut with hands gripping the front of his shirt.

He didn't even scream.

The grassy field was wet from the last night rain, but he didn't mind. He was sitting on it, staring out at the river below. The flowing, blue river that reflected some of the sun lights and made rainbow in the process. His eyes were faraway; he was deep in his own thoughts again.

Someone was calling his name. He turned around and saw her running toward him. She was carrying something in her arms. The smile as wide as the river below on her face, and as she got closer, he caught a glimpse of red. A lot of red in her arms. He stood up, grinning, and ran toward her.

"— nothing serious—"

Voices?

"He's alr—"

Whose voices are those?

"— exhaustion, exerti—"

I don't recognize them…

"— wait, he's coming to!"

"Lelouch!"

He forced his eyes to open, and saw two faces peering down at him.

"How are you feeling, young man?" the man with the long straight hair tied into a pony tail asked. A notebook and pen in his hands.

Lelouch's dark eyebrows furrowed slightly, wondering who this stranger was. He had seen him before, but where and when? Long ponytail, glasses, tall… Ahh, it was that physician who had diagnosed C.C.'s illness.

"I'm fine," he answered, surprised at how weak his voice sounded.

C.C. sat down on the bed next to him, her eyes nothing but concern though her pale face didn't show it. "You gave me a scare back there, Lelouch. You just suddenly passed out," she said.

The memory flooded back to him like cold waves of the ocean below that cliff. He remembered now. He had walked with her to the market, and she had wanted to buy apples while he did bread. Then, he saw something out of the corner of his eyes. Something moving rapidly, and within seconds he was on the ground, unconscious.

Lelouch swallowed. He had a pretty good feeling what that something was. It was dark, therefore undoubtedly it was his warrant of death.

Aware of two pairs of eyes studying him, Lelouch cleared his throat and tried to sit up. It was futile because C.C. pushed him back down. "You need to rest," she said firmly, then looked toward the physician. "Will he need medication, Gilbert?"

"I think he will be fine." He glanced at Lelouch. "Just don't overwork yourself, alright?"

The teen nodded slightly.

A small smile crossed the physician's face as he stood up. "Well, I think I should take my leave. If there is anything you need, please contact me immediately, Madame," he spoke, putting the notebook and pen in his black, worn-out suitcase. That earned a nod from C.C.

As he was walking toward the door, he gave Lelouch hesitant looks as if wanting to say something but dared not to; Lelouch returned the stare quizzically. Gilbert stopped for a split second at the door, glanced at Lelouch one last time and walked out. C.C. closed it.

"I told you to-"

"I'm fine, really," said Lelouch quickly as he got up, tucked the blankets in neatly the way it was. He turned to C.C., bowed in spite of the frown creasing her forehead, and made a beeline for the door. Before he stepped out, however, he said without turning to look at her. "Thanks for saving me, C.C."

He hadn't realized how suffocating it was in the master bedroom until he was outside.

Every servant in the household knew about the eventful evening, and they threw questions at him ceaselessly. At first, Lelouch didn't mind because it showed they care, be it genuine or pretentious. But a few hours later, he started to get annoyed. It seemed more likely that they just wanted a topic to gossip. Oh, Lelouch passed out at the market today, have you heard? Madame brought him home and let him stay in her room, can you believe that? Those topics. So at the end, he snapped at those who attempted another query.

When night fell and darkness surrounded the mansion, Lelouch dragged his tired legs to the bedroom. He could feel it. The way his body was weakening, the way it was betraying his commands, and he was feeling like a thirty-year-old instead of a seventeen.

And Euphie was the last person he expected or wanted to see at the moment.

She was sitting by her bed, reading a book under the lamplight when he walked in.

"Lelouch," she began, then stopped, bit her lips, looked down at the book in her lap and said nothing.

It was mean but he ignored her and walked toward his side of the room. Flopping down on the bed, he closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, that soft voice said again. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he muttered.

"You… you're not sick or anything right?"

He turned on his side. "Don't worry about me." His eyes had finally adjusted to the blackness of his side of the room, so now he was staring at the brick wall. He could make out the faint red color of the bricks and the slight gaps. And with a blink, he suddenly saw a pair of blue eyes hidden behind the glasses stare at him. The physician's. They were questioning, and worried? Why should he be worried if he said Lelouch was fine?

That got him thinking.

Euphie was saying something, and he bolted up. She looked startled when he jumped out of bed, walked toward the coat hanger and grabbed his black coat.

"I'm going out for a bit," he said, opening the door and stepping out. Euphie was asking something, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her stand up, reach for him, but the door already closed.

"I must be out of my mind," he mumbled. "I really am."

In front of him was a two-story building. The building itself was old and looked worn-out. He estimated it to be at least fifty years old. It definitely wasn't new compared to the fancy white marbled mansions that the royals were living in. Lelouch looked up at the second floor. It was where the physician was residing, he knew that because the boy who had come and fetched him had told him so.

"Apparently, a doctor doesn't get paid too generously," he muttered under his breath. Then he walked up the broken steps into the building.

The owner of the building was as old as the building itself. He gave Lelouch a curious look, opened his mouth to speak and Lelouch couldn't help noticing that most of his teeth were missing. "I haven't seen you around here, so who are you looking for, young man?" the owner said, smiling friendly.

"I'm looking for a man named Gilbert," he answered, praying the man wouldn't ask for a last name because he had no idea.

"Oh, Gilbert." The owner's smile widened a bit. "What a sweet man. He has been taking care of me, you know. All my sickness of old age, he gives me medicines without charges. What a kind man."

He then gave Lelouch a number and direction.

Lelouch was standing in front of the door marked 117, wondering what on earth he would say to the physician. Realizing that gluing to the ground like this wouldn't help except wasting his time, Lelouch breathed in deeply, and knocked.

"What a surprise," Gilbert said with a highly raised eyebrow. "I didn't expect anyone to pay me a visit in the middle of the night." He gestured for Lelouch to come in.

"Well, I have to talk to you. This is important" he answered, lowering himself into a chair opposite the working table.

Gilbert still looked at Lelouch questioningly, then averted his gaze. "Tea?"

"No, thanks."

"So what brings you here? Not another fainting, I hope." Gilbert said, sitting down in the wooden chair behind the working desk that was littered with countless papers and a couple of pens and pencils. He propped his elbows on the desk, intertwining his hands.

Dark eyebrows creased Lelouch's forehead. "If that were the case, I wouldn't be here talking to you now, would I? I'd be in bed and someone else would be in my current position."

Gilbert stared at him over his clasped hands. "You're a smart boy, aren't you?"

"I guess you can say that," he said grimly, then leaned slightly forward. "As you can already guess, I am here for an important business."

"And what is that?"

Lelouch paused, not really sure how to begin. He shifted in the chair, stalling time by crossing his right leg over the left one. Finally, he blurted out. "You were giving me weird stares back there."

The physician quirked up an eyebrow, indicating he had no idea as to what this teen was saying.

"You looked worried," Lelouch tried again. "Why would you if you knew I was fine?"

The eyebrow returned to its former spot on his face, and Gilbert sat back in his chair. He suddenly looked weary. "I don't know," he said at last.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, it's just… I have a feeling that you…"

"What?" Lelouch's heart quickened.

"Lelouch, have you made a bargain with the devil?"

Silence. The room had turned cold all of a sudden, and in spite of that, Lelouch could feel sweat dripping down his own brows.

A minute later. "What?" inquired Lelouch again, only this time more cautiously and deliberately.

Gilbert was now leaning forward, hands clasped tightly and his eyes studied the young adult across. The glasses glinted in the moderate lamplight. "You know people always say the eyes are a dead giveaway when you want to hide something? In your case, they certainly betrayed your intent," he spoke slowly.

"And what was my intent?"

"To hide the truth. Lelouch, you made a bargain with him, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Lelouch nonchalantly. He sat back, trying to conceal the nervousness creeping up his face. So he was right afterall.

Gilbert remained silent for a minute, then reached forward , touched a framed picture that Lelouch hadn't noticed before because of a pile of books stationed in front of it. Gilbert turned the wooden-framed picture around, revealing a smiling face of a young, beautiful woman. Her curly violet hair flowed gently in the wind, and a bouquet of daisies in her arms protectively.

"She was my wife," he whispered.

"You used was, past tense…"

"Yes, she passed away last year," Gilbert replied, his eyes now glued to her laughing deep violet ones. Lelouch couldn't help noticing the way pain crossed his face at the mention of it.

"I'm sorry," said Lelouch softly.

Then the physician looked up. "You want to know how she died?"

Lelouch shifted again, unsure whether he wanted to know. Gilbert took his unspoken answer for a yes, and went on. "I was supposed to go home early that day. A rainy, stormy night. But being a physician doesn't have that privilege when a royal needs you. So I stayed late, almost till eleven o'clock to tend to an ill mistress.

"I thought they were going to offer me to stay for the night, given the horrible weather. But no, they sent me home right after, and what choice did I have? I ran home in the rain. It was my wife who welcomed me, brewed me a cup of hot tea to warm myself." The corner of his lips jerked up at the memory. "How ironic. I am a physician but days later, I caught pneumonia." His eyes traveled to Lelouch for a split second then moved away.

"There was and is no cure, so there's only one thing I could do: pray and rest. My wife tried all the herb medicines her mother had taught her but nothing worked. It went on for weeks, and when my body was seriously damaged and only waited for Death to come, I suddenly felt a tinge of hope. That bit of hope turned into something powerful, and that powerful something saved my life. Yes, I recovered out of the blue." His eyes then wandered toward Lelouch once more.

Lelouch forced himself to stop shifting in the chair.

Gilbert reached over and touched the top of the framed picture, turned it around to face him. His thumb gently caressed the spot where her face was. A sad smile creased his lips.

"I recovered," he said, "but my wife turned sick. At first I really didn't notice any change in her. She was as fine as she had ever been, always smiling and full of energy. Then one night, when she was preparing supper, she fainted." A regretful sigh escaped his thin lips. "I still had no idea and thought she was merely tired, so I took her to bed. However, not only did the exhaustion not go away, it worsened. She was so pale and ill that she couldn't even consume liquid."

He looked up at the ceiling and Lelouch wondered if Gilbert was blaming himself for his own ignorance. Maybe he believed it was his fault that she died. If only he hadn't run home in the rain, if only he hadn't caught pneumonia, she would still be here, by his side, now.

"Gilbert-"

"She told me everything," the physician continued, still facing the ceiling. "Before it was all too late, she told me everything on her deathbed." He sniffed.

"Gilbert," said Lelouch, drawing the physician's attention. "She did the right thing," he said softly, smiling a little. "When you love someone enough to sacrifice yourself for them, you don't feel regret or remorse. If at all, you feel blissful. I believe that's what she felt all the time, so you shouldn't blame yourself; she certainly didn't want you to."

Gilbert's eyes connected with the teen's for a full minute, as if trying to read the hidden message behind them. Lelouch didn't once look down. Then, Gilbert returned the smile warmly.

"I had my suspicion," he said, "when Madame C.C. recovered all of a sudden. I'm not the type to believe in coincidence but inevitable instead. I had thought it was the Master who had made the contract. But after the event this afternoon, I now know who did."

Lelouch leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees and hands pressed together. "You won't tell anyone, will you?" he inquired cautiously.

Sitting back and crossing one leg over the other, Gilbert nodded slightly. "You have my promise. But would you mind if I asked you a question?"

"Not at all."

"Why did you do it? It's apparent to me that you love her, but why? She's of noble birth, and you commoner. It will never work out."

"She's not of noble birth," Lelouch blurted out before he could clamp a hand over his mouth.

Gilbert quirked up an eyebrow so high it touched his hairline. "Oh?" he said.

Sighing and raking his hand through his raven locks, Lelouch realized his gravest mistake. What's more, he couldn't back out of it. Had he been talking to a moron, he probably would have, but this was an intelligent man, a doctor. What he had said was equivalent to a written memory, there was no way out beside telling the absolute truth. The truth he had buried for as long as he could remember.

"Can I trust you?" he asked, suddenly feeling drained.

Gilbert nodded. The eyebrow hadn't returned to its former spot yet.

Lelouch sat back, shifted one last time and crossed his leg, hands on his lap as he was preparing to tell a long forgotten tale.

"It was a long time ago, a time that she probably doesn't remember anymore…"

A/N: I don't think they had pizza in the 15th century, so if I put it in, it will be sort of out of place, which is why I settle with apple instead.

I am not abandoning this story, but it may not be updated as often or quickly, so my deepest apologies :( Though of course, I'll try my best to work on it, given I have other projects to focus on right now.

Thank you so much for reading and being patient! Reviews are love :)