Late the next morning, Guilford was sitting alone on the stairs in the entry hall, casually flipping through the pages of Euphemia's notebook. Father hadn't stopped glaring at him since their talk alone yesterday, so he was hiding like a scolded child. A frustration was building from their disagreement, and he was trying to keep it from Cornelia because it would only make the rest of their stay here awkward. When he'd explained his intentions regarding the Princess, his father had gone into a full lecture on weak character and family obligation, and ordered him to end this 'inappropriate affair'. He felt through his jacket for the badge he knew was still there. Obviously, there was no way to end things. After a tense breakfast, Cornelia cornered him in a hallway, looking guilty again and close to asking him about it, but instead she handed him the notebook to analyze.
He found a page with a drawing of Darlton that was peculiar, but had to flatten the book to see it. The man was kneeling, and looking at the ground, but his right side was missing, disappearing into the spine of the page. According to the notes, Euphemia had tried to remember the time she was under Lelouch's Geass. Such a thing was supposed to be impossible, but even he had some memories. They were more like impressions, a sense of dread, nightmares he couldn't recall. He hesitated, not wanting to turn the page to her experience of the phenomenon, but when he did it was fairly sterile. The only other picture was Suzaku again, and there were marks where she must have kept tapping the page, thinking.
"They're almost here," said Cornelia, coming down the stairs behind him. She was wearing a skirt again today, a dress actually, knee-length and light blue. The sandals must have been Euphemia's idea. He was probably overthinking it, but sometimes he wondered if she wore these things for him. When she reached the bottom, she was level with his face, taking a look at the page he was on.
"I'm worried about her getting over Kururugi," she said quietly, seeing the portrait of Suzaku. Guilford was worried too. One night of talking wasn't going to solve what Euphemia had told him. He closed the book gently and handed it to Cornelia. It should be put away.
"As long as she still talks about him, I think it will work itself out. She's young," he said. She was too young to be burdened forever by this.
"How old were we when we met?" Cornelia asked. About the same age, she had a point. She looked him over, fiddling with his collar and tie, a civilian uniform inspection, "are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?" She was worried about him, too.
Guilford heard cars on the drive outside. He'd been waiting for his mother to arrive with his second oldest brother, Gale. When he and Cornelia returned to the Homeland, his brother had planned a week to come home as soon as possible, and he was looking forward to having a buffer against Gordon. He should be fine meeting them by himself. Cornelia would introduce them to Euphemia when the reunion settled down.
"I'm alright, you should go," he assured her. His smile was bigger than he intended, and hearing the commotion outside was more exciting than he remembered from his previous visits. Cornelia gave him a last squeeze of his hand before leaving. He walked to the door and prepared himself for the bright light he was about to walk into. There were familiar voices sounding from the other side.
Several meters away the cars had parked, and there they were. Guilford had intended to wait at the doorway, but he saw his mother, and found himself bounding forward, as fast as he could without running.
"Oh, Gilbert! It's so good to see you," she said, folding him into a tight hug, "we're so glad you're back safe." She might have been crying a little. She hadn't done that since he returned from his first campaign years ago, and she was smaller than he remembered. He watched over her head as Gale got out of the car, followed by his wife, Anne. Gale gave him a small smile. He looked exhausted, and the apparent cause of it was being helped out of the car by her nanny.
"Grandpa!" the little girl, Liza, ran across the gravel to his father, who'd been told of the arrival. She didn't even notice him, but that was expected. The last time he saw her she couldn't run, much less talk. He heard her squealing behind him as his father picked her up, laughing, and was strangely jealous for a moment. Father had always been so serious with him and his brothers. Maybe it was because she was a grandchild, or a girl? Whatever the case, it was immature of him to feel that way. It was probably just because his father was upset with him.
When his mother was satisfied that he wasn't going to disappear, she stepped back, but continued to hold his arm. Gale gave him a long hug of his own, and Anne a kiss on the cheek, both of them happy to see him. They couldn't stop looking at him, but smiles all around was a welcome change. Anne's voice broke a bit greeting him, which surprised him, not that they weren't on friendly terms, but he didn't see her that often. He stopped thinking about his family's worry for him a while ago, as it never helped a situation, but he hadn't considered it this strong. She noticed his confusion.
"Don't mind me. I've been crying at everything still somehow, even four months out," she said. He wasn't sure what she meant until the nanny walked around the car again with a baby. He vaguely remembered his brother telling him about the pregnancy, but when was that? She must have given birth when they were underground with the Black Knights. Anne was usually understanding, probably just out of unfamiliarity, but Gale might be put off that he was that disconnected.
"He looks...big," he said, which he thought was true, but wasn't sure if that was what you were supposed to say about babies. It worked whenever they'd sent him a picture of Liza. He hoped he was right about it being a boy.
"He is. He's growing so fast I can't believe it. You were all so small as babies, Gilbert," his mother said, and Anne was pleased, so that was alright, then.
"Let's go inside, so he can properly meet him. Liza too," said Gale. Anne hurried in with him, nanny trailing. Gilbert stayed to escort his mother, who was lingering and staring at him. She was looking at his shaded glasses.
"Are they terrible? I know you told your father it wasn't a problem, but are you ok?" she asked. Her concern was so comforting and unearned. He missed it more than he'd realized.
"They don't hurt that much. I'm ok," he answered, trying to reassure her. She put a hand to his cheek briefly, the same as she'd done when he was small. She was used to stoicism after four sons.
"My boy," she said and pulled him toward the house, "I'm sorry I didn't come with your father. I know you and Gordon don't always get along, but I didn't want to go to his wretched party. Those people he's been around in New York are terrible. Spoiled aristocrats with nothing to do, so they make trouble. I don't know how so many of them are friends of his." He was glad someone else agreed with him about that party. The passive aggressive campaigning by the Purebloods had ruined dinner last night, but he wasn't getting in the middle of his parents' fight, especially now. She anticipated his response.
"I know you won't disagree with him, but I'll just say I was actually glad when it was all over. You get to come home, and we don't have to throw our lives at the nobility now. I was so tired of it," she said. Five minutes after reuniting didn't seem like a good time to tell her that he'd be going away again with 'nobility'. He wondered what she'd think when it was explained by Father.
When they entered the sitting room, his parents sat together, and he settled for the chair next to Gordon, who had Liza on his knee. She seemed happy to be there. Gilbert had no idea Gordon had been allowed around the child so much. Gale wouldn't have allowed it without Gordon being clean, so he would have to believe his oldest brother's insistence about that. Gordon turned the girl towards him.
"Do you remember Uncle Gilbert? We saw him on the television," Gordon asked her. He couldn't think of anything he would be on a screen for that would be appropriate for a child. He didn't want to be awkward like with the baby, but she helped by flopping forward a tiny hand, palm down like a little lady, and the family laughed. He gave her hand a tiny kiss, and she smiled.
"Will you teach me to ride a knightmare, Uncle?" she asked. That must have been on the TV too. Her eyes were so big, and he could see now why his father was so warm with her. At the very least, Father seemed proud of her interest, not mad at him for once this morning.
"I think you should ask your father. He knows how to pilot one," he told the girl. She turned her big eyes back to Gale, who made a face of mock anger.
"I'd be a terrible teacher, but you're still not big enough to learn, Liza," Gale said. His niece looked undefeated.
"I could watch. Did you bring it with you?" Liza asked him. Cornelia would like her, but he wasn't going to go against Gale in parenting.
Anne saved him from finding a way to put her off. "Why don't you show him your brother?" she asked, walking over with the baby. Liza hopped down as the bundle was placed in his arms. It had been a long time since he'd held a baby. The boy was squirming a bit as his sister tugged at his blanket, trying to get an uncoordinated hand into her curls.
"This is Michael. He's very loud," she said. Gilbert laughed. He understood the sentiment. He looked over at Gordon, who seemed very pleased with his stiff posture around the baby, but Gordon also looked unusually calm. He was so different from the last time they'd seen each other, even if the teasing was the same, and Cornelia was right that he looked healthy. Gilbert had missed more than he thought over the past two years.
"You look good with the baby. You know, they were thinking of naming him Gilbert for a while," his mother said. Gale looked embarrassed, and Anne grabbed her husband's hand.
"By the time he was born we'd decided on Michael. It was just a passing idea when we were talking about...where you might be," Anne told him. Oh. She would've still been pregnant when he went missing after Tokyo. Now he was embarrassed. They must have downplayed their concern when he contacted them. He watched Liza climb onto his father's lap with her toys. It was strange that he hadn't gotten a talk about all the trouble he'd caused.
"It was a nice thought, but Michael is much better," he said.
"Prettier too, let's hope," Gordon joked, trying to break the tension. As Gilbert shifted in his seat, his nephew got a hold of his ponytail. His tiny face of concentration was exactly like Gale's.
"So, are you about ready to dash off again? You never seem to stay in one place long," Anne asked him.
"It's not all settled, but we'll be leaving for the capital in a few days," he answered.
"That's right, Father said Cornelia was here?" asked Gale, as if it were a casual question, but gave him a knowing look. Being teased by both brothers wasn't what he wanted out of today, but it had to be brought up anyway, since he needed to tell them about Euphemia.
"Yes, we came here from Japan a week ago," he said. Anne came to save him from the tugging on his hair, taking Michael back with her.
"Will she be joining us? I don't know what's...appropriate, with her position I mean," she asked.
"She'll join us for lunch with her sister," his father answered plainly.
"The Empress!?" Mother exclaimed. She dropped the doll Liza had set in her hand.
"No...Euphemia is here. She arrived the day before yesterday," he said. There was an awkward silence.
"I was not told about this," his mother said. Her annoyance at his father was clearly coming back.
"I thought she was, well, deceased," Gale said with confusion, looking to see if Liza had noticed, but she seemed more concerned with her toys and climbing all over the couch.
"Apparently not," Gordon said to Gale, who raised his eyebrows and looked away.
"But after that incident she started, is it really safe, especially for the children?" Gale asked. The massacre princess. Anne looked worried at that, and his mother seemed speechless. Euphemia wouldn't hurt anyone, but he couldn't explain Geass. If Gale knew, would he distrust Gilbert too? He could feel himself slipping back into that combative mood his father had put him in earlier.
"We only just found her, Gale, and she's a child herself. She's harmless. That was all a misunderstanding," he tried to explain. He ran a hand through his hair, and realized it was messed up by the baby. He tugged at the tie to fix it, a little frustrated.
"If Gilbert says it's safe, then it is. Worrying about an unrelated-" his father was cut off.
"Really, Gil?" Gale said, leaning forward and gesturing to Gilbert's jacket. As he had lifted his arms to fix his hair, his gun must have shown. Liza had looked up at her father's raised voice. He wondered if she even knew what it was, but also felt immediately guilty. Either way, if they were yelling she might get scared.
"I want the children taken out." Gale called for the nanny, who dragged away the whining girl along with her brother. She wanted to stay with her grandpa. They waited for his explanation.
"It's my job," he said simply. It didn't feel as good of an excuse as yesterday with the crowd.
"You had a gun inches from my son's head!" Gale said.
"You're overreacting, as if there aren't dozens of weapons in the house," he replied. They hadn't been much older than Liza when Father had started training them for military service. Just because Gale had gotten out of it didn't mean he could act like an oblivious civilian. His niece would probably be practicing with that junk knightmare they had in the garage in a few years. What did Gale think those things were for?
"It is rude, though. Anything dangerous in the house is secured away. Gladius, did you tell him he could do this?" his mother asked. His father didn't answer. Gale had started some odd half-pacing out of frustration, and Anne was staring off uncomfortably.
"It is secure, it's with me. First he's scared of a girl, and now you think I'm going to shoot my family," he complained.
"You and Father say everything is fine, but you carry a gun. You don't see how that looks? What were you thinking to use it for?" Gale asked.
"It's classified," he answered.
"Everything is always classified with you," Gale said angrily.
"Everything is classified." They didn't understand. It was his job to protect. They'd never complained before.
"The kid isn't scary, but what are you afraid of?" Gordon agreed with Gale. "We are your family. Maybe you should think about that. You should be safe with us." Gilbert stood up, ready to face both of them, but unsure what about. They wanted him to stand down, but he couldn't. He could feel his anxiety coming back, an annoying emotion he hadn't pushed off since Tokyo.
"Enough!" his father shouted at them. Anne left the room. Lunch was going to be terrible, "I want the three of you in my study. Now go, I have to talk to your mother." Gale stormed off and Gordon dragged him into the hall. He shrugged off his brother's arm to storm off himself. He was angry that they were in the right. Who was he going to shoot? He was with his family at their home, and the gun was like a lack of trust. Cornelia had even said he was being paranoid, but maybe he was just looking for a fight. His whole life was fighting, and the reason he was even here now was this vigilance and a lot of luck, so it was mostly habit. He couldn't use excuses like that, though, not with the people who cared about him. He was angry that they were right to be worried.
...
"He still has it on," said Gale petulantly when their father joined them in the study. They had reported as ordered. Gilbert sighed and stood up, throwing his jacket onto the chair and taking off his harness. Nobody said anything when when he slammed the whole thing onto their father's desk, making a point to not look at Gale.
"Now that Gilbert is back in the Homeland, we need to talk about the family," Gladius said, ignoring them, "the Empire is in political turmoil, and I want a unified front." It was the beginning of a familiar lecture that never solved anything.
"Do we really have to do this again?" Gordon asked. He was flipping a cigarette case in his hands, but he couldn't light up in here.
"Yes, we do. First, I want this fighting to stop, and I don't want any disrespect toward Cornelia or Euphemia. I've already talked to your brother about it," Gladius said, indicating Gilbert, "when she returns to government, we're going to support her."
Gordon looked uninterested. "Yeah, you mean Gil is going to support her. I warned him you weren't going like that thing he has going on." Gibert punched his brother in the arm, and Gordon acted like it didn't hurt, which was infuriating. Perhaps if Gordon hadn't said all those ridiculous things yesterday, they could have found a better way of telling Father.
"That's the disrespect I was talking about, and I don't want to hear any more about it. The three of you had better work out whatever is going on. You're brothers, and what just happened isn't worth this frustration," Gladius said. He was shuffling through some papers, and handed a stack to Gale, continuing to address Gordon, "Either you or Gale needs to consider a political position when the elections are announced. This could be a step forward for us." Gilbert failed to see the point in all this. Gordon would never made a good public official. His father wasn't even speaking to him, as if this was just a demonstration of how he was a worse son than everyone else.
"Then why do we have to support Cornelia? After all the problems with the last Emperor, we could just go to the people's side. We never had a hereditary title," Gale said, shoving some of the papers at him. It was information on the new political map of New York, and the capital there, but not his department. He passed them to Gordon.
"Nobility aside, she's still one of the most powerful people in the Empire. What's left of the aristocrats want her to protect them, and they have the money. For all we know, she could convince her sister to reinstate all the titles tomorrow. Until things settle, we need the connection," Gladius explained.
"We're hedging our bets?" Gale asked.
"That explains all that Pureblood bullshit last night," Gordon said.
"We've always cultivated options. It's why you two were allowed to go into the private sector," Father said to his brothers. They talked over the details of political office, but Gilbert's mind wandered off. For all the teasing about his feelings, they were engaging with their father's ideas, where Cornelia was a means to an end. They didn't understand that he was genuine in his desire to be with her, and that it wasn't going to be a power maneuver. He'd accepted living for her, and come close to dying for it. They should consider in their plans that whatever the political result, he wasn't about to leave her. He couldn't lose her again.
"What did she think of the Purebloods, Gilbert?" his father asked, actually inviting him into the conversation.
"I don't like them. They could cause trouble that nobody needs," he said.
"But what does Cornelia think?" His father pressed. He sighed.
"You should ask her," he said. There was that glare, again. He thought it was pretty obvious from the way she kept putting them down at dinner yesterday, and Gibert wasn't going to be his spy, especially after all this hostility. If they cared about him, they should speak openly with Cornelia. She actually wanted them to like her, as rare as that was for her, and they didn't even appreciate it.
"Did you settle what we talked about yesterday?" His father continued. There it was, the real reason he'd been included here. Gilbert could put on a general's glare too, and he did.
"We haven't discussed the details," he said, not looking away.
"You've been too busy?" Gordon joked with that annoying smile. It was almost admirable how nothing deterred his brother.
"I think I'm done here," he said, rising. His father looked annoyed, but he didn't care. The reason he hadn't been lectured as much as Gordon wasn't that he was a favorite. It was that he didn't need to be told things twice, and his father had made his wishes clear.
"Fine," Father dismissed him. He left his jacket behind.
Gilbert was out in the bright sunlight before he'd given himself a chance to think about how bad of an idea it was. His eyes were aching with the sudden change, but he didn't care, forging ahead over the lawn and into the garden. He was rubbing at his face under his glasses, feet taking him down familiar paths he didn't need to see, kicking at rocks and scaring the groundskeeper. Somehow, he'd lost control of every aspect of today in less than an hour.
This problem with his father wasn't new. It was the same way when he'd been knighted off the career track, but even less worthwhile. Before, it had been all about getting the family into the nobility because for some reason, after a dozen generations, they hadn't given up on class mobility. Now, it didn't even matter! Father's goal in life had been wiped away with the titles, and he had to take that out on Gilbert. His attachment to Cornelia hadn't been appropriate or convenient, but it wouldn't hurt his father to be happy for him for something besides just being alive.
He arrived at his destination, a plain wooden gate set in a high hedge, and pulled it open roughly, rushing into the shade within. The paved area was dominated by an old oak tree, and at the base of the tree was a small plaque. He wiped at his face, taking off his glasses. It was too hot out, even in here. He approached the roots and crouched down, not wanting the benches that had been installed, and slowly reached out to touch the stone marker, a memorial to Gregory Guilford. His brother wasn't really here, he'd been shot down over Spain eight years ago, never recovered, and he wasn't coming back like Euphy.
Gregory wouldn't have teased him, but he would've told Gilbert he was being an idiot and made him fix things with Father. Gilbert hated that he would forget sometimes, that now he'd go days and nothing would remind him of his younger brother, but he was a whole different person from the one he was then. That was why he was here, and everything was going wrong. His grip on the stone edge tightened, until it was almost cutting into his hand. He was someone different again, someone who didn't trust his family. He'd been weak lately, and perhaps even Greg would have hated that.
Gilbert didn't hear the footsteps outside until the gate slammed open again. He jumped up, spinning around.
"Gilbert," it was Gale, panting a bit as if he'd been running, "come back to the house, please."
"I don't want to deal with Father anymore today," Gilbert said. He didn't want Gale bossing him around either.
"Look, I'm sorry about getting upset earlier," Gale said, taking a step toward him, and glancing at the plaque. He knew what his brother was thinking, that it could've been him, "we're worried about you, that's all."
It was the same as with his mother earlier, unhidden concern, and the idea that they didn't mean to hurt him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to punch Gale or cry. Gale grabbed his arm and dragged him over to one of the benches, forcing him to sit down. He didn't have to accept the apology, that didn't matter.
"You shouldn't baby him," said Gordon, who had come by at a more leisurely pace. Gordon leaned against the tree by Gilbert's side and took his cigarette case out, offering one.
"Those will kill you," he said, his head falling into his hands. He just needed to calm down. That should be second nature with Gordon around.
"So will being a soldier," Gordon replied, considering their location before lighting up, then reaching into his other pocket to pull out a small flask, "here." Gilbert would accept that. He took a drink, and Gordon clapped him on the back.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Gale asked, reaching out for the flask himself.
"Being a soldier? Not really," he said, rolling up his sleeves. It was so humid, and his eyes still ached. Talking to them about it wouldn't help anything. They didn't understand. He found himself staring at Gregory's marker again.
"Mother thinks that's why you're upset. She says you're traumatized," said Gordon wryly, following his eyes to the base of the tree.
"Of course, nothing but shell shock could make me walk out on Father's annoying lectures," he answered. His brothers laughed.
"He told us," Gale said, grabbing at Gordon's jacket for a cigarette, "he told you to stop fucking your commanding officer."
"Fuck you," Gilbert replied, taking another drink. It was just like Father to spend the time he was gone complaining about him.
"Are those the words he used yesterday?" asked Gordon, smiling at him, "did he say that when you had a gun?"
"He wouldn't have said anything at all if you hadn't started it," he said pointedly, a warning. Gordon didn't care to listen.
Gale had lit up as well adding, "Considering the last Emperor, she's not the worst one in the family to sleep with. Father shouldn't have been so hard on you." They were laughing again. He got up off the bench, and paced away. Gale looked a bit bothered by his distress, but Gordon had intended it.
"Is the other stuff Father said true? You wanted her to not go to the capital and just stay here or whatever?" Gale asked. It was none of their business, and he hadn't asked Cornelia to do anything. He told his father that he wanted to find a way out of the military for them, if she'd have him, but his brother made it sound desperate and stupid. He'd avoided talking with Cornelia about their relationship because of his insecurity, that he was weak to want her to choose him over their job, and that was probably for the best because he already knew her answer.
"It's a bad idea, Gil," said Gordon, flicking the cigarette away, "royals don't stay. She seems alright, but she'll drop you."
"Why are you like this!?" Gilbert asked, rushing towards him, but Gordon looked smug.
"I'm not wrong. I'm helping you, and you know what I'm talking about. She abandoned you for a year already," his oldest brother leaned into him. Gordon wasn't joking anymore.
"I liked you better when you were high," he jabbed, not moving. He finally got a rise out of Gordon, who went from amused to angry.
"Did you?" Gordon asked, shoving him backward.
There was a charged silence, and then they moved. Gilbert had an excuse to punch him again, in the jaw this time. Gordon jumped at him, tackling him to the ground and pulling at his shirt. Some of the buttons came off, and his shirt hung open. Gale was shouting at them to stop, but he didn't care. He had it coming. Gordon was on top of him, lining up a fist, but Gilbert dove up, wrapping his arms around and flipping them over. He pinned his brother down, but then Gale was trying to pull him off. As Gordon slipped away, he kneed Gilbert in the stomach, but Gilbert managed to trip him, scrambling to get another hit in. All three brothers were on the ground.
"You're such an asshole," he said as he pushed Gordon's shoulders down, trying to pin him again, and then-
"Guilford!"
He froze, and Gordon shoved him off. It was Cornelia, standing in the gateway. She had a stern command face, and behind her was Claudio somehow, in full uniform, the last Glaston Knight.
"What the hell is this?" she asked, but no one answered. Gilbert could feel his face flushing. This was disgraceful. She turned her head back to Claudio and jerked it toward them. The younger man walked over and extended a hand to Gilbert, helping him up, then his brothers. They were dusting themselves off, but it wasn't much use.
Cornelia didn't have anything else to say, and stomped back through the gate. He exchanged a look with Claudio, who shrugged, and they went after her. Gordon and Gale could figure themselves out.
When they caught up with her, she didn't slow down or acknowledge them, and they fell in step behind her. She was angry. Guilford fumbled with his remaining buttons as they marched forward, throwing the shirt onto his shoulder. His undershirt would do until he could get inside.
"We don't have time to argue with your father about whatever that display was," said Cornelia finally, not looking back, "Claudio just arrived with an even worse party than those ridiculous politicians from yesterday."
Guilford looked to Claudio again, who explained, "Royal staff from the capital, sent by the Empress to prepare Lady Cornelia for her return. They decided to come without warning after I told them they would most likely be turned away."
"But if there is no royalty, then how can she require management staff?" Guilford asked, surprised. Cornelia had barely allowed a royal secretary to manage her affairs, only when she was in Pendragon. She kept threatening to kill anyone else they would send. It was one way to avoid the pageantry of court.
"She's the sister of the Empress, so they want things arranged for her public image and the transition to her new position," Claudio answered. They were supposed to have more time before this, at least a few days. He needed to explain to Cornelia, about the fight and his father. He had to be sure she understood how he felt, but had he run out of time? These bureaucrats didn't come for them, they came for her. A terrible feeling came over him, worse than the anxiety and frustration of the morning. She might have to leave him again, like Gordon said, if the Empress had not made a position for him at Cornelia's side.
"Princess Cornelia," Guilford called out. He rushed forward a few steps and grabbed her wrist. She stopped in her tracks. He saw the offense on her face before it turned to guilt again. That was it wasn't it? She had felt guilty since Euphemia returned, because she realized she would be leaving him behind. Guilford slid his grip down to her fingers, as if she had offered her hand. He remembered Claudio was there, so he couldn't say what he wanted to, that he needed her.
"What are you going to tell them about Euphemia?" he asked instead. Claudio looked confused.
"Nothing. Now go get cleaned up, and make sure she doesn't come downstairs until I get them to leave," Cornelia ordered, and turned away to go into the house, followed by Claudio, who gave him a sympathetic look. She was sending him away.
A/N: So I took a little longer because I decided after writing this chapter to go back and change Ch. 3 to match it a bit better. I don't like the scenes being too chopped together. You don't have to re-read it if you read the old version, the information is about the same, it's just a different presentation. I doubt I'll being doing something like that again, but leave a comment if you have any suggestions on making the story better writing wise going forward. -T
Also I wanted to address a couple of the comments. If I address more, I'll put them at the bottom of the chapters, but this is quick. Thank you to everyone who has left one so far, it means a lot!
For Republic Che: Yes, I have definitely thought about it. The three of them would be very close to figuring it out, and obviously some people they will meet like Nunnally already know. Their feelings about Lelouch might change a lot. They would also likely figure out Suzaku is Zero, and I haven't decided what Euphy might do about that.
For Parkjenson: I hope the revised version of 3 and 4 feel more cohesive. I think you're right about finding a beginning and end, then I can have a point to the chapter, and it will flow better. I also really really want Euphy/Suzaku and I'm looking forward/dreading when she has to meet 'Zero'. Thanks for the help!
