A map of Area One / The Homeland is available on my deviantArt account (link in prologue's AN)

Thirteenth Chapter – Flight

Imperial Summer Palace at New Haven Shire, Duchy of Connecticut, Holy Britannian Empire

21st of December 2033 a.t.b.

"His Imperial Highness The Prince of Wales and Newfoundland and his Knight of Honour, His Lordship The Earl of Kate!," announced the servant in livery standing beside the door as Henry and I entered the ballroom. Then – "His Grace The Duke of West Florida with escort."

A few eyes focused us, some ladies near the entrance curtsied – slightly taken aback I noticed the coveting gazes some of the younger ladies threw Henry and sometimes me. Uneasily I fiddled around with the collar of my uniform tunic – I wore the Dress Uniform of the Colonel-in-Chief of the Scots Guards (beside the 1st Royal Guards the only of the old regiments to support Elizabeth III on her escape to the New World) and Henry wore that of a major of the same regiment.

Encouragingly he smiled at me. "C'mon, it's just a party. Relax a little!"

"A party?," I answered drily. "This is the annual Yule Ball of Her Majesty, besides Empress's Birthday the most important event of the year for Britannia and her nobility. Just look around … there are three members of the Imperial House and all 42 dukes present, three viceroys, about a hundred marquesses and earls, not to speak of the thousand viscounts and barons, officers and civilian celebrities – this, Henry, is the greatest minefield of the Realm."

Slowly we moved through the dancing pairs towards the rear of the vast ballroom – to make space for the countless guests one had, as every year, prepared two further halls and opened the rest of the palace with the exception of the Imperial Apartments for the guests. The cadets of the Academy of St. George had been tucked in livery and equipped with tablets.

The orchestra played light allegrettos.

Politely greeting Henry and I strolled towards the pedestal roofed with a richly decorated baldachin at the hall's rear. The Empress was nowhere in sight – formerly the monarch had usually opened the ball with the first dance, however this was obviously up to Schneizel considering my mother's disabilities.

Henry disagreed. "This may well be true – of course this parquet is first and foremost a political one. To see and be seen. Still – it's a party. On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined; / No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet / To chase the glowing hours with flying feet. Have some fun!"

I merely smiled wearily, but Henry rested his hand on my shoulder and guided me towards the tables to the rim of the dance floor. With an expert's eye he spotted two pretty ladies in our age boredly sitting at one of the tables in their elegant gowns observing the dancers.

"You take the right one."

Aghast I stared at my Knight. "I hope you don't mean what I think you mean."

"Depends all on what you think."

And Henry straightforwardly approached the girls.

The right one was quite beautiful – the kind of girl to turn men's heads: slender, yet not skinny, with small, firm breasts, straight red hair and blue eyes, dressed in an elegant silk gown to go with her eyes. Her companion was beautiful as well, similarly built, yet with dark hair and green eyes in a black gown.

The dark-haired one nudged the other girl with a light giggle as she saw Henry approach, me in tow, and then Henry addressed both.

"Hey," he greeted, then bowed mischievously and approached the dark-head. "May I have the pleasure of the next dance, milady?"

Without hesitating his chosen one rose and took the hand he offered. The other girl pouted playfully. "Aww, don't just leave me alone …"

I threw Henry a glare. Bastard.

His deep blue eyes twinkled amusedly as he put his arm around his partner, saying something along the lines of: Look who's talking.

Thus I stepped forth and asked the redhead for a dance.

She curtsied, then took my hand with a smile. I led her onto the dance floor, rested my hand on her hip. Again I bowed as protocol demanded, then we began to whirl around in step with the music.

"Thank you, Your Highness. My name is Louise, by the way, Louise Talbot," she said. The Talbots were an old house that had since 1497 held the now titular earldom of Shrewsbury, the office of the Lord High Steward of Ireland as well as the young Duchy of Delaware. If I recalled correctly, Viscountess Louise Talbot was the sole heir to all the fiefs of the house.

"The honour is all mine," I assured. Louise smiled.

"No, really. I am …" She giggled, quit, lightly blushed. "I'm sort of a fan of Your Highness."

That was a surprise (and slightly alarming, considering the fanatical look in her deep blue eyes). Just when had I last done something memorable?

"That's … flattering. I must have missed the moment I became a pop star."

She giggled, slightly flirtatious, coming a little closer. "Seriously, I even own your action figures!"

I fell out of step. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Just a joke." Thank God. "But I've always wanted to meet you."

I returned her beautiful smile, gently led her across the dance floor. "And does the original meet your expectations, milady?"

"It surpasses all my hopes."

At that point I must have blushed, for she laughed again.

The waltz ended. Louise separated our embrace, yet did not let go of my hand.

"My lord," she shyly asked, "could we perhaps go to the park for a moment? It's getting warm in here."

I was just about to answer, when the call from the servant beside the door interrupted me and all other people in the ballroom.

"Her Imperial and Royal Majesty, Nunnally, by the Grace of God the Empress of Britannia and thrice Queen!"

I could not see her, but the orchestra that had before played some waltz now intoned the beginning of the national anthem after four ruffles and flourishes.

I turned to Louise again. "Yes," I agreed, "Let's go." I offered her my arm. Slightly confused she looked first at me, then to the entrance, where a large crowd was forming around my mother, then back to me. Finally she linked arms with me and I led her through one of the glass side doors of the ballroom directly outside to the gardens. Henry and his partner followed us in some distance.

We stepped out to the park surrounding the palace. It was a surprisingly mild winter and there was no snow on the vast lawns and flowerbeds, still Louise visibly shivered in her silk ball gown. I laid my uniform's jacket over her bare shoulders. She thanked me with a smile.

From the sea a cold wind arose. The aptly designed hedges, flowerbeds and fountains we strolled between were discreetly lighted by hidden lamps. In some distance a few guardsmen in scarlet uniforms with the characteristic black shakos were smoking cigarettes.

"Why did we leave?," Louise asked, out of the blue.

"Pardon?"

"Why did you … why did Your Highness want to leave the hall, once Her Majesty came?," she asked. Then she clasped her hands over her mouth. Her red lips formed a big, surprised "O". Then she regained her composure. "Forgive me, sir. I … I should not have asked such a question."

I merely smiled wearily. "It's okay. After all, you're right … why I wanted to leave?" I hesitated. Yes, why indeed? I loved my mother as it was my duty as a son, and I admired her doings as the Empress. Then why … "I guess I don't know that myself. That is, I do: it disgusts me. It disgusts me how all those greedy parasites fawn on her, hoping they can loot some golden crumbs … it disgusts me that we live in a golden cage while in Colombia people die for our sake." I hesitated. "Forgive me," I then asked, "I didn't mean you. Please don't misunderstand me – Her Majesty … my mother … is a great person. But it's enough to make one sick, for one knows that one will never reach her …"

Louise slowly nodded. "Can'st thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose / To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude; / And, in the calmest and most stillest night / With all appliances and means to boot / Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down! / Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Indeed."

This forced a smile on my face. "Yes," I agreed, "Indeed.

She hesitated. "May … may I call you Faramond, sir?"

"If I may call you Louise?"

Louise blushed. "Yes, please … Faramond."

We silenced for a moment.

"Still, how interesting her live must be," Louise then said with bright eyes, "Her Majesty travels the world, gets to meet the most important people of the earth and makes decisions that affect millions of subjects. Oh, how I would love to be Empress of Britannia for just one day …"

Again she linked arms with me, however being far closer this time.

"Who knows," she flirtatiously joked, "perhaps one day it will become a genuine possibility? What do you think, Faramond?"

I had to laugh.

We had without me noticing left the gardens proper, now stood in front of the neo-Gothic palace chapel, embedded into deep forest, the façades aptly lighted: in the bright shine of the spotlights the statues of saints and the gargoyles seemed to be alive. "Let's go inside," Louise asked, "I'm cold."

The interior of the chapel was saturnine, the only light being two candles on the altar and the dull shine coming through the colourful, mediaeval-appearing windows. Henry and his companion followed us inside. Could it be that he took his oath a little to serious …?

Thoughtfully Louise ran her slender white hand over the marble high altar. "Is it actually true that Her Majesty lived with the Demon for seven years?," she inquired.

I involuntarily grimaced. This was one of the questions one better did not ask. The last journalist who had dared to ask about the 'horrible abuse Your Majesty certainly had to suffer through' in an interview had been … actually I did not want to think about the last journalist who had asked this question (and then had had the audacity to "correct" HIM words in his article).

I did not know what to think any more, as I had already told Henry about a weak ago in the safe haven of my apartments. For many years I had stood firm in the faith that Lelouch had been the Demon, Evil personified – the revelation that his soul had not been black but rather dark grey had shattered one of the basic constants of my very existence. What else might be a lie? What else only half the truth?

"Yes," I thus merely confirmed, "From their banishment to the Black Rebellion Lelouch and Her Majesty lived in Tokyo under false names."

Louise shuddered. "How horrible it must have been for her to be forced to live with such a madman, such a … such an evil person … and how strong she must be indeed that she was able to overcome all those abuses those ghastly tabloids can't be silent about."

"Why, what do the tabloids say?"

"Well, that Lelouch … that he … his sister …" She blushed heavily, then broke off. I understood. "... that he had his way with her," I calmly concluded.

Louise clapped her hands over her mouth, then deeply bowed.

"Please, forgive me, Your Imperial Highness. I … I have already said too much. Excuse me." – and turned, rushing towards the church's portal. "Louise …," I began, yet could not finish the sentence. Henry and his partner, who had discreetly stayed by the entrance, looked after her. They exchanged a few words, then the girl followed her friend and Henry approached the altar.

"Just what the hell was that supposed to be?," he frowningly asked as the door loudly resounding slammed shut. I averted my gaze, leaning onto the cold marble of the altar.

"It's nothing," I said. "Nothing important," I then corrected myself. "We had a … a slight misunderstanding."

My Knight did not appear convinced in the slightest. "It's nothing," I insisted.

Without a word Henry stepped forth and calmly kissed my lips. I gave him his head and responded – these kisses still (or rather again) were rare, precious treasures, far to seldom we managed to steal a few moments for ourselves.

We separated, breathing heavily. For a moment we just stared into each other's eyes. Then Henry broke eye-contact, instead sitting down on the Lord's table, letting his legs freely dangle. "Well then, Faramond. What happened?"

I hesitated –

It was slightly irritating to see Henry sitting atop the altar like this, but whatever.

"She asked whether it's true that my mother and Lelouch lived together."

Henry quizzically raised a brow. "But that's certainly not everything. After all, she ran out crying."

Louise … had cried? That was … well, utterly interesting; I had seen no tears.

"No … it's not. Of course I confirmed … it's no secret after all. And then … then she told me that The Herald and co claim that Lelouch regularly raped his sister."

"And you took that personally."

"No … no. She just apologised and ran out … crying … after saying that," I denied. "Dear goodness … I don't know it myself. Perhaps it's even true … no, rather not. But, well, you know – I just don't care. It's ancient history. … in fact, I can't help but not care about almost anything. Who cares if Lelouch was an angel? Who cares if Louise tries to flirt herself into the Imperial House? I am … it's … it's completely crucifying, it's tormenting me, Henry. Just two months ago we were free, now …" I broke off, looked at Henry, who silently looked at me looking at him.

"I can't take it any more," I quietly repeated. "I don't want to lie any more, I no longer want to live behind a mask."

Henry slowly rose from the altar, deeply embracing me, still silent. I wholly surrendered to his embrace as he gently stroked my hair.

"That means you're not satisfied with life here at the court?," he asked in a strange voice.

"It sounds so selfish," I quietly said, but then I agreed – I was not satisfied. Nowhere close to it.

Henry's hand gently stroked my hair.

"If you want to, we can leave New Haven Shire. Together."

I bitterly laughed. "The army doesn't take 14 years olds." It was expected that I would serve in the armed forces once I was of age, probably earlier, considering the circumstances.

"I know." Henry ended the close embrace, suddenly took a thin, bound in dark-green leather booklet from his pockets and handed it to me. On the cover the great arms of the Realm were depicted, on it stood in golden letters The Holy Britannian Empire, below that Passport. I opened the passport, skimming through the foreign secretary's demand to let the bearer pass freely in the name of Her Imperial Britannian Majesty and then turned the page.

The photo showed me, but the name read Alan Spencer, apparently the son of the Duke of Cascadia. The Duke of Cascadia had no son …

Confusedly I stared at Henry. A … a false passport?

"Inside are a train ticket to New York City and a plane ticket from Black Prince International. I bribed a scullion to smuggle us to New Haven when he's buying groceries for the grand Christmas dinner – if you want to, we can be in Tokyo by the 25th."

I could only stare. "But … how did you …"

Yet my beloved Knight only smirked mischievously. "Just what kind of Knight would I be if I couldn't fulfil my Prince's every desire?"

Now I could only kiss him.