~*~ For Komo and L.L. who bribed me with so many awesome fanarts. Go check them out! ~*~

Chapter 50

Lelouch awoke between two and three in the morning the first night after C.C. joined the house to the sound of a scuffle in the hallway outside his door. Further investigation (with his gun drawn and ready) had revealed Suzaku pinning C.C. to the ground with a dangerous gleam in his eye. C.C. looked unconcerned by the fact that Suzaku had her pinned, or the fact that his hand was dangerously close to choking her.

Suzaku had been none too impressed when he'd returned home from the A.S.E.E.C. to find C.C. lounging on one of Lelouch's sofas eating a piece of pizza (though that seemed mostly due to the misconception that he thought Lelouch had been hiding her since the Shinjuku incident and that she was there at Lelouch's insistence). Nor had he been all that impressed when Lelouch told him that she'd be staying at the villa for a while. His uneasiness was compounded all the more, it seemed, when he caught her sneaking into Lelouch's room in the middle of the night.

Suzaku had suggested he lock his door at night. Apparently he'd only been made aware of the unfolding situation because she'd mistakenly barged into his room first. And while neither of them could find anything that could be used as a weapon on her person, it was the general consensus that breaking into his room in the middle of the night wasn't an admirable trait.

So he'd locked his door on the second night and had woken up shortly past three to find C.C. in he process of crawling into bed with him. He had promptly turned her out of the room after she'd admit to picking the lock.

The third night, he'd been exhausted from being in meetings all day and restructuring the administration. He hadn't woken up until eight thirty – only to find C.C. occupying the other half of his bed with a barrier of spare pillows built up between them. Whatever it was she was trying to do, it seemed seducing him wasn't it. If he didn't know better, he'd have said she was afraid to sleep alone.

But he did know better since the girl seemed wholly fearless. Which meant that a more likely explanation was that she was trying to annoy him. It wouldn't be the first time. In fact, he was sure that a rather large portion of her day was devoted to coming up with new and ingenious ways of pushing his buttons. From bullying the kitchen staff into serving him only pizza (a food he had never been particularly fond of) to rearranging most of the books in his library into a scaled down version of a medieval castle (which he had to admit had been amusing right up to the point where she refused to put them back) to wandering around the villa in nothing but one of his shirts (as least as far as he could tell).

He was certainly not deaf to the rumors circulating around the staff that she was his mistress. And even he couldn't fault them for coming up with something so ludicrous. He would likely have come to the same conclusion had he been observing the situation from a place less involved. He let her get away with much too much (if only because he hadn't come up with a viable means to put her in Check yet), but she had learned quite quickly where the line was and that she should never cross it.

Her antics were annoying and frustrating and sometimes embarrassing, but they were never harmful or dangerous. She never put him in a difficult position with people he didn't trust. In fact, she tended to make herself scarce whenever he had visitors that didn't already know about her presence in the house.

It was only this discretion that prevented him from simply locking her in her room and leaving her to rot until she told him what she wanted.

So, over all, he supposed her presence was tolerable, even if she was annoying. Most of the time he tried to forget she was even there. Today, however, she was being particularly intrusive as she lounged on the sofa pushed against the wall in his office at home and hummed quietly to herself. It wasn't that the volume of the tune she was humming was inconsiderate, it was simply that there was something about the tune that was catching. And she probably knew that, which is probably why she was humming it. It was distracting.

He sighed and massaged his temples, giving up momentarily on reviewing the state of Osaka. He'd be visiting the devastated city as soon as he was able to square things away with the administration. He had a number of candidates in mind to act as his proxy while he was attending to military matters. Not that he intended to simply hand over the reins of the country to some lackey, but he would at least be delegating a rather large majority of his responsibilities to others until Osaka was stable again.

And the first step to bringing stability back to Osaka was the destruction of the Kenshiki Faction. In the weeks since Clovis' death, the first hints of the revitalization of Osaka had begun emerging – beginning with a few tentative business owners who had opened up shop again to serve the few tentative customers who were willing to leave their homes. Money made the world go around, after all. The public transit system was still in ruins and even if it wasn't, he doubted the people would be willing to use it. He imagined the taxi drivers were making a killing. The citizens were attempting to avoid gathering in large groups that could potentially be made into a target.

Even if the Kenshiki hadn't said a peep in two weeks, the fear of their next strike had still permeated every block of the city and essentially shut it down. Which was unacceptable.

"What?" C.C. asked peevishly as she ceased her humming – drawing Lelouch out of his thoughts. Apparently he'd been staring at her for a while now as he traversed the complicated landscape of his own mind.

"Nothing." He frowned. "What song was that?"

"Song?" She asked.

"The one you've been humming for the last hour." He elaborated with a scowl.

She blinked as though the question perplexed her before getting up and leaving the room without answering. He sighed and let her go. He was still getting used to her mood swings, but this hadn't been the first time she'd walked out in the middle of a conversation. It seemed to be her chosen method of avoiding the topics she'd rather not discuss.

All further inquiries into the nature of his Geass power had been met with a similar response.

Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to his work. Duke Calares looked like a promising candidate for his proxy. The man held the rank of Captain in the military and, more importantly, he had an interest in politics. In fact, he'd been dabbling in politics since the invasion though he'd never sworn himself to Clovis. He might have been a lot of bluster, but he would be easy to control. Gottwald may have been an adequate Acting Consul and a more military minded administrator may have been ideal for dealing with the chaos that erupted after Clovis' death, but Gottwald was first and foremost a soldier. And soldiers didn't make great politicians (case in point – Cornelia. He figured there was a reason she'd never been appointed as Viceroy of any of the Areas she'd subdued.)

In any case, Gottwald wouldn't be in any position to act as his proxy.

As though called by the turn of his thoughts, Edith knocked on the door a few minutes later, a stack of papers held against her chest and an anxious expression on her face. "Lelouch, these just came from the Emperor's office." She said, as she set the stack in front of him.

He barely glanced at the top page before he smirked. "Finally."

Edith hesitated. "Are you really going to go through with it? Isn't it a bit extreme? I mean, Suzaku's fine. There was no real harm done."

"Of course I'm going to go through with it. The Purist Faction is a blight that I intend to remove. It's not just what they did to Suzaku, though that is a part of it and the excuse I needed to justify my actions out of more than spite. The Purist Faction would deny the Numbers their very existence if they could.

"You, as only half Britannian, would also fall under their scorn. And they also stand against everything I am. I am not nobility, even despite my father's blood. That is something I have always been aware of. Until I married Abigail, I had no titles to speak of, while all of my siblings hold both titles and lands as well as a claim to the throne. The Purist Faction would destroy me if I let them. It's safer to destroy them first before they become a significant problem." He explained.

". . . But . . . this is. . ." Edith gestured wordlessly at the papers in front of him. "Their families will . . . can you afford to burn this many bridges?"

"If they were adherents to the Purist policy, then there aren't really any bridges to burn." Lelouch shrugged. "I was going to head to the base today anyway. Could you please call ahead and have everyone I have a paper for assemble? Also, please alert my Anti-Terrorist Task Force of my imminent arrival. We'll kill two birds with one stone."

Edith looked like she wanted to say something more, but she restrained herself before merely nodding and heading out of the room, fishing her cellphone out of her pocket as she went. It wasn't that her concerns weren't justified. He'd be making enemies of a number of powerful people with this move, but he'd already made up his mind and with the massive shift in the power structure of the country, it wasn't likely that any of them would be in a position to act out against him anyway.


"That the prince protected that Number at all is disgraceful." Kewell muttered. "I don't see why we should have to be punished for it. I'm sure he's guilty of something worthy of death anyway. He is Genbu Kururugi's son, after all. There's no telling what kind of trouble he could stir up."

"It's the prince's right to punish us as he sees fit for any transgression he faults us on." Jeremiah replied calmly, despite the anxiety twisting in his stomach,

"The prince is only a prince at all because his mother managed to seduce her way into the Emperor's bed. He should have just taken her to bed then cast her aside. A bastard child would have been a better solution to the shame she brought on the royal family." Kewell continued bitterly. "And we wouldn't have to deal with the boy's ludicrous notion of justice now."

"Kewell, if you ever -" He began to threaten, both hands clenched into fists to try to stop himself from strangling his subordinate for his slander of both Empress Marianne and Prince Lelouch. He'd always hidden his lingering guilt and loyalty to the vi Britannia's pretty well, but sometimes it took all of his willpower to keep him from doing something potentially damaging.

"Unfortunately for you, this bastard son was born into the family and is now sixteenth in line to the throne and so it seems you'll have to endure my ludicrous notion of justice." A cold voice from the door interrupted them. It was Lelouch, standing impassively with a stack of papers tucked under his arm and Kururugi and Zimmerman flanking him on either side.

Kururugi . . . in the same black uniform as Zimmerman. The same uniform he'd seen at the funeral except for the distinctive cape.

Kururugi . . . was also a member of the prince's Royal Guard. His insides twisted anxiously. Kururugi did not belong there. He did not deserve the honor the prince had bestowed on him. Friend or not, he was still a Number. He shouldn't have been eligible.

And he lost what little respect for Zimmerman he'd had – standing straight almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Kururugi as though he didn't think the boy's rank was scandalous. The presumptuous brat had to have called in on the life debt he'd collected on the prince to be allowed into the Royal Guard.

Kewell, at least, knew better than to respond to the prince's retort and had clenched his jaw shut. It was possible that the prince intended to punish the faction as a whole for their actions against Kururugi (as was likely because there were a few people present who had had almost nothing to do with Kururugi's set up). And if that was the case, there would be nothing stopping the prince from punishing them collectively for Kewell's stupidity as well.

Kewell had always tended to speak before thinking. That trait was only accentuated when he lost his temper. He was one of those people who loved to run a bitter commentary to make sure everyone around him was aware of his displeasure. However, he should have known better than to speak out against the prince when they'd been summoned by the boy for a meeting.

They lined up quickly at a silent gesture from Jeremiah before saluting their new Viceroy. He had officially stepped down as Acting Consul the day of Prince Clovis' funeral and had since returned to his regular duties. He was now nothing more than a military officer and nobleman.

"So then, you're Kewell Soresi, right?" Prince Lelouch asked without looking up from the papers he was sheafing through.

"Yes, your highness. I'm at your service." Kewell replied.

The prince smiled wryly before wordlessly fishing a sheet out of the stack of papers and handing it to Kewell. "No, you're not." He said finally before turning to the next down the line. "Louis Argent, correct?" The prince continued, already fishing out the next document.

"What?" Kewell said incredulously, his eyes scanning wildly over the document he'd been given. "You can't do this! You can't strip me of my titles! Only the Emperor -"

"Which is precisely why it took so long for me to get around to this." Lelouch cut him off. "Do note the Imperial seal affixed to the bottom."

"But -"

"But?" Prince Lelouch asked coolly as he turned back towards Kewell. "You ought to be thanking me for my mercy. It would have been much simpler if I'd just ordered your execution. Instead, I went through the trouble of having you stripped of your titles and transferred."

"Transferred?" Kewell asked ashenly.

Prince Lelouch nodded. "It's on the second page." He said, gesturing towards the sheet in Kewell's hand. "I believe you're bound for Area Two."

Jeremiah suddenly felt sick. This was the prince's revenge. When he'd considered the prince destroying the Purist Faction, he'd thought that it would take the form of a massive purge (and he'd been more concerned with wondering if he would be included amongst the casualties or not), but this was so much more potent. To a faction that prided itself on it's nobility, to be made into nothing but simple commoners was devastating. And then being transferred to some stable Area where there would be almost no chance of redeeming themselves was almost just as bad.

His gut clenched ever tighter and tighter as the prince drew closer, leaving ruined ancient noble families and the devastated remains of the Purist Faction's ruling elite in his wake. With each person the prince passed – each receiving the same punishment - his hope dwindled, then finally died.

The loss of his titles, he could live with. Granted, his father would probably have a heart attack, but he knew that nobility wasn't the be all end all. Both Empress Marianne and Prince Lelouch had proven that nobility did not automatically engender superiority. Even without his title as Margrave, he would still be Jeremiah Gottwald – an elite Knightmare pilot and an officer in Britannia's military.

What he couldn't live with was his exile. His prince would banish him to some hopelessly peaceful country where he would spend the rest of his days drowning in tedium.

And they would never see each other again.

The thought echoed in his mind raising bile and weakness with each reverberation. This was it. The end. Another failure to add to his tally and the boy wasn't going to give him another chance. His legs felt like they might give out on him as he listened to Villetta draw in a shaky breath and accept her punishment.

Then it was his turn, last in a long line of destroyed pedigrees and ambitions. And he couldn't bear to watch. He bowed his head and prepared himself for the same treatment as the others – a blasé hand off of a sheet of expensive paper with the ability to send an entire family into ruin.

He waited . . . and it never came. Taking a deep breath, he slowly raised his head to meet his prince's stony gaze. The boy's expression was neutral, though his eyes were still cold and angry.

"Jeremiah Gottwald," The prince began. No title. Now that he thought about it, the prince had refused to address any of the others by their titles too. "As the leader of the Purist Faction who perpetuated the crimes against Suzaku Kururugi, and as the Acting Consul – a position of authority in which the people must place their trust – and, most especially, as a man sworn to me, your failure is especially grievous.

"As a leader, one is expected to be held to a higher standard. The people put their trust in you as the Acting Consul to find Prince Clovis' killer. In response to which, you sanctioned the fraudulent arrest of an innocent man in an attempt to deceive the masses and to further the Purist Factions goals. You broke the trust that was given to you by the people of Area Eleven. And you broke my trust by acting against my wishes – even when expressly told not to."

Jeremiah began to feel a little dizzy and it took a moment before he realized he was holding his breath. This was it. This was it. What did his prince have in store for him? He had broken the boy's trust. Surely that deserved something particularly foul as recompense.

"For all of these reasons, I have decided that your punishment is death."

Death. . . Execution. He was going to die shamed by the very prince that he had only longed to serve. His breath was gone again. He felt like he had been punched. And his heart was hammering in his ears as the prince's pronouncement repeated itself in his mind. His eyes slid shut and he bowed his head in shame.

"I understand." He murmured.

"And do you accept your punishment? Do you accept that your death belongs to me?" Prince Lelouch asked, prodding at the wounds his declaration had left. But his death had always belonged to the prince. Always. Ever since that first meeting, when the boy had refused to forgive him, refused to let him serve, and refused to take his life.

"Yes, your highness."

"Do you want to know the manner of your death?" Prince Lelouch asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Was this it then? The hint he'd vainly searched for all throughout Prince Clovis' funeral? Was his treachery going to be revealed now here, in front of all of his subordinates and allies. The Purist Faction would tear him limb from limb if they ever found out that he was the one who had murdered Clovis. Or did the boy merely find the manner of his impending doom morbidly amusing?

The prince leaned forward slightly so he could catch Jeremiah's gaze before answering. "You will sacrifice yourself for me."

He blinked. He was supposed to take his own life? "How do you mean?" He asked quietly.

"I mean that you will abandon all allegiances and ambitions in favor of my protection. I will become the sole focus of your existence and you will willingly give up your own life if it is necessary to protect me."

But that sounded a lot like . . .

"You will become my Knight of Honor."

He stared at the boy incredulously. This was his punishment? This – the very highest form of respect that any royal could show a soldier – was his punishment for defying the boy?

"This isn't benevolence or mercy. I fully expect you to die in the course of your duties." The boy said calmly, as though answering his thoughts. "Until that time, I will make use of you."

Even so, the boy had granted him the only death he had ever truly wanted. To die in service to his prince – to shield the boy's life with his own. A sacrifice. Yes, the boy had worded it correctly. He would sacrifice himself to let the boy live. An even trade.

His legs finally gave out and he sank to his knee, arm crossed over his chest in fealty and obeisance. "I will protect you with my life." He swore vehemently as he bowed his head to hide his disgraceful shell-shocked expression.

"You will abandon your ties to the Purist Faction." His prince ordered.

"Yes." He accepted. "I resign from my position as leader of the Purist Faction." He said easily, ignoring the disgruntled sounds of the other people in the room.

Then the prince stepped forward and he felt the gentle brush of fingers against either shoulder – an unofficial knighting. "Then I dub thee Sir Jeremiah Gottwald, Knight of Honor of Britannia and sworn vassal of the vi Britannia house." The prince said calmly, following the traditional script. "We can deal with the rest of the pomp and ceremony later. Now, rise."

He did so, feeling relief and wonder well up in him at the unexpected turn of events, only to come face to face with a piece or parchment bearing the Gottwald name and the Emperor's seal. He stared at it uncomprehendingly for a moment. While there was no greater honor than being named Knight of Honor, the title was not a hereditary one and wouldn't extend to the rest of his family. The rest of his family retained their nobility through the hereditary title of Margrave – the title that they were just stripped of with the Emperor's approval. . . or not.

"You will keep your title as Margrave only because you will be more useful to me with it." Prince Lelouch explained calmly. "So long as you are never presented with this, you shall remain a noble. However, I suggest you don't forget I have it. If you ever betray me or if you ever break my trust again, you will lose your ancestral titles along with all of your family members. Understood?"

"Yes, my prince."

"Good. Then the rest of you are dismissed. Gottwald, you're with me, obviously." Prince Lelouch said as he turned on his heel and head back towards the door. The Number didn't move when Zimmerman fell into step on the prince's left, respectfully vacating his place at the prince's side for the newly appointed Knight of Honor, despite the less than pleased look on his face. Jeremiah took the silent cue and stepped past the boy who followed along behind as the prince made his way through the base towards the parade grounds.

Across the parade ground stood over a hundred Knights standing at attention in their distinctive caped blue uniforms along with just as many Infantry Corps soldiers and Engineers. They snapped a salute as one as the prince approached them, one that the prince returned as he came to rest front and center surrounded by his entourage.

"I am Lelouch vi Britannia." The boy said loudly, "Eleventh Prince of the Empire and sixteenth in line to the throne. You are the Anti-Terrorist Task Force that I have created to aid me in my campaign against terrorism in Area Eleven. Each and every one of you were selected by me personally to help me in this endeavor.

"You are the finest soldiers Area Eleven has to offer. My selections were not biased by blood status or ethnicity, but rather the the degree of skill you have exhibited. Amongst you, there are nobles and commoners, Britannians, Numbers and those of mixed heritage. I will tell you right now, whatever misconceptions you carry about being favored or disfavored for something as fickle as what kind of family you were born into – abandon them.

"The only way you will gain favor with me is by proving yourself worthy of it. The only way you will earn my scorn is by betraying the trust I've put in you all. I expect you to work as a united entity. If you are noble and cannot accept that the man next to you is of common blood, or if you are of common blood and can think of the man next you as only an arrogant nobleman who relies solely on his blood status for his achievements, you have no purpose in being here. If you are Britannian and you hate the thought of working with Elevens, or if you are Japanese and you cannot accept that you will have to rely on and be relied upon by Britannians, you also have no purpose in being here.

"If that is the case, you are free to leave now. This is the only chance you will have to leave without repercussions." The prince finished, waiting to give them a chance to make up their minds. To Jeremiah's surprise, no one even shifted. The thought of Elevens and Britannians working together to bring down Eleven terrorists seemed like he was just asking for failure.

But he would be the last one to criticize the prince after his magnanimous treatment mere minutes ago. The boy had had every right to destroy him, but had decided to bestow honors instead. If this stunt won the prince their loyalty, he supposed he could forgive the high-handed disregard for propriety.

"Good, then." The prince said with a smirk. "Adrian Hopkins, step forward."

A Knight in the second row and left of center stepped forward, surprise and trepidation visible on his expression for a moment before he schooled his features into something more appropriate of a Knight and saluted. The man was probably in his late twenties with curly brown hair falling around his ears. Jeremiah was sure he'd seen the man around before, but he wasn't anyone overly important. At least, not as far as he knew.

"Sir!" Hopkins said, holding himself in rigid attention.

Prince Lelouch swept out his arm in a grand gesture towards the man cape flying wide with the movement. "This is your new Commander."

Hopkins' eyes widened dramatically in surprise. Apparently, the prince hadn't given the man any warning. It seemed the boy was in a mood for surprising people today. For a moment it seemed that he didn't know what to do, before he immediately dropped to one knee. "Then . . . allow me to swear myself to you, your highness."

"I accept your pledge." The boy said, smirking dangerously as his gaze swept over the assembled soldiers.

It was the beginnings of an army. A highly specialized army that, if it could learn to work as a cohesive unit, would be capable of utterly destroying any enemy set in it's path. The terrorists had absolutely no chance of survival. Providing they didn't fall apart at the seams, of course. It would take a lot of concentrated effort on the prince's part to overcome the ingrained prejudices that had been drilled into every single one of the soldiers before them.

Nobles and commoners. Britannians and Elevens. It would take a lot of work indeed.


Dinner that evening was an interesting affair. Suzaku, seated next to the Captain who was on Lelouch's left, was sitting directly across from Edith, who was looking none too pleased with being seated between Lord Gottwald and the Lieutenant (though it was difficult to tell just who's presence she was opposed to). To his right sat Amanda Lyons, who he'd spoken to an exact number of three times in the past. Following along down the rest of the table sat the rest of the Royal Guard and Sir Hopkins (who still looked a little shell-shocked) and, at the very end, opposite from Lelouch in a place that should have been reserved and left vacant in honor of his wife, sat C.C. sipping on a glass of wine and generally being a terror to the serving staff.

He found himself under the disapproving stare of Lord Gottwald more often than not, though he noticed the the Captain seemed to be receiving it just as much. The again, it might just have been that he was seated next to Zimmerman, and so the man was just getting caught in the line of fire. In any case, Lord Gottwald had been glaring at him all day and he'd been attempting to avoid the man's gaze (which was made particularly difficult when they were seated almost directly across from each other).

Edith kept sending him sympathetic looks and Captain Zimmerman engaged him in polite conversation. Whatever Lelouch had said to the Captain seemed to have worked in turning around his attitude. The man seemed almost eager to talk with him and, somehow, they got into a discussion about soccer and Basic Training and the Lancelot (at which point Lyons joined in).

During a lull in the conversation between the third and fourth courses (Lelouch's table usually wasn't this elegant, but tonight the kitchen had prepared a whole five course meal for them), Suzaku glanced over at his friend and realized for the first time (probably) just how impressive Lelouch was. It wasn't that he'd never noticed that Lelouch was a prince of a vastly powerful Empire, nor was it that he hadn't accepted that Lelouch was now the leader of Japan. It was simply that, to him, Lelouch had always just been 'Lelouch' – no honorifics or titles attached.

It was only now, as he watched Lelouch reclining in his chair with his chin resting lazily in his hand as he listened to something Lord Gottwald was saying to him, that he realized just how influential his friend was. That Lelouch was more than just 'Lelouch'. That there was a reason all of these people at the table had decided to swear loyalty to a boy years younger than them. Lelouch was regal, powerful, and dangerous too.

Lelouch must have felt eyes on him as he glanced at Suzaku and nodded his head slightly before returning his attention to his Knight of Honor and was drawn back into whatever conversation they were quietly having. A moment later, Suzaku was swept back into the conversation between Miss Lyons and the Captain and he tried to forget the uneasiness he felt at having the man who had remorselessly attempted to have him executed so close to Lelouch.

He also tried to ignore that fact that C.C. was conversing with the newest addition to Lelouch's group of supporters and was probably filling the man's head with useless nonsense and lies. He didn't trust that woman as far as he could throw her. He'd been running on the assumption that she'd died in Shinjuku until he'd returned from a long day of being Lloyd's guinea pig to find her sprawled on Lelouch's couch looking like she owned the place.

There was something strange about her. Stranger than the fact that Prince Clovis had been keeping her in that capsule for however long she'd been in there – locked away as though she were dangerous. It was that sometimes her eyes seemed ageless or wise or something unnatural. For the most part, she was drab and blasé with few interests other than what her next meal would consist of and how she could annoy Lelouch next.

But sometimes, and it was only fleeting and he was sure it was his imagination and he was also sure that no one else noticed it (though possibly because no one, not even Lelouch, watched her as closely as he did) something in her expression changed and it was in those seconds that a shiver went down his spine and he was sure that she could see through him or into him and under all the layers of deceit and lies and justifications he'd made to himself before crushing them to see the full extent of his dirty little secret. He felt completely bare and then she'd blink and she'd seem just as nonchalant and disinterested as she'd been before.

He didn't understand why Lelouch was letting her stay in the villa. It was obvious he didn't really trust her either. But Lelouch had yet to justify his decision, despite the number of times Suzaku had asked over the last few days – his inquisitions always met with a simple plea for him to leave it be and to trust Lelouch's judgment . . . which he did.

It wasn't until after dessert when they were indulging in after dinner drinks that Lelouch addressed someone other than Lord Gottwald or Hector.

"Adrian," He said loud enough to draw the attention of everyone at the table. "I hope you haven't been believing whatever it is C.C.'s been telling you. You can't believe more than half of what she says." He drawled, earning a dirty look from the green-haired woman.

"Of course not, your highness." Hopkins said quickly.

"I resent that, Lelouch." C.C. pouted. "But since you let me attend this evening, I suppose I'll let it slide."

Lelouch ignored her, instead raising his glass in toast to the man. "Congratulations on your promotion. I look forward to working with you."

Everyone around the table followed suit and raised their glass as well towards the man who flushed in pleasure or embarrassment. "Thank you. I look forward to serving you, your highness."

"You may address me by my name. Almost everyone else here does." Lelouch said with a small smile.

Suzaku caught the veiled snub and almost choked on his drink. He called Lelouch by his name, and so did the rest of the Royal Guard (usually). And Edith and C.C. definitely did. Which meant that Lord Gottwald was the only one in the room who hadn't been granted that honor.

He knew that the Britannian system of addressing people was different from the Japanese one he had grown up with and that they didn't put as much emphasis on how people were addressed, but he also knew that Lelouch intended this as an insult. He was letting his Knight of Honor know that all was not forgiven. In a way, it was mildly comforting that Suzaku's almost-execution hadn't been easily brushed off.

Hopkins hesitated for a second before nodding his head towards the prince. "Lelouch, then. Thank you." He said awkwardly.

"Now then, aside from celebrating Adrian's promotion," Lelouch began with another snub of Lord Gottwald. Gottwald may have been allowed to sit in the place of honor at Lelouch's right, but it was Hopkins that they were there to celebrate. He hadn't once mentioned the impromptu knighting that had taken place earlier that day, nor had he actually referred to Gottwald as his Knight of Honor.

"There were some things I wanted to discuss with you all. Obviously, I'm behind schedule when it comes to dealing with the Kenshiki. Between my brother's murder, being shot and now taking up the post of Viceroy, I am now well past the deadline I set for myself. However, I haven't been completely idle.

"The Osaka garrison has be restructured and are engaged in keeping peace in the city. It obviously won't be enough to get the city back on it's feet, but for now there is a degree of calm which is beginning to allow the people to pick up their lives again. For the time being, the garrison will continue to act as a policing and peace keeping force in the city.

"Which means that it will be up to the Anti-Terrorist Task Force to take out the Kenshiki Faction. The problem is that they've been so quiet lately it's been hard to draw them out." Lelouch explained. "Which is why I will be going to Osaka with the Anti-Terrorist Task Force to help draw them out. Of course, that means that my Royal Guard will be accompanying me."

Suzaku narrowed his eyes. "You're talking about using yourself as bait."

Lelouch glanced at him and smirked. "I suppose that's one way of putting it. The other is that they're more likely to make their presence known if I'm actually in the city. In any case, it's uncertain how long it will take for the Kenshiki to bite. I have intelligence agents from the garrison searching for all of the members who we know of, but so far to no avail. They've covered their tracks well.

"For this first foray, I will be going there in my capacity as Viceroy. The media will be calling it a tour of the city to assess the damage so the visit will be short. My Royal Guard will be traveling with me, but the ATTF will be disguising itself as reinforcements for the garrison and arriving a few days in advance. It's unlikely that the influx of troops with go unnoticed, but at least we won't be advertising that they're the company I created for the sole purpose of eradicating terrorism. You'll be leaving tomorrow, Adrian. I've already taken care of all the details.

"I'll be following the day after. I've also decided to appoint Duke Calares as my political assistant. Edith, I expect you to keep him in line. I should hope that you're well aware of what actions I would and wouldn't find acceptable."

"Of course, Lelouch. I'll keep my eye on him and inform you of anything worrying." Edith said resolutely.

"And C.C., you'll be staying here and trying to keep out of trouble." Lelouch said with all the patronizing charm of someone trying to reprimand a child while avoiding a temper tantrum.

C.C. blinked. "I'll be going with you." She said monotonously. Suzaku didn't see the scowl Lelouch sent her way so much as he felt it. "We're accomplices, Lelouch. I have a vested interest in your survival."

To Suzaku's surprise and chagrin, Lelouch folded. "Fine." He sighed as though it didn't matter, even though it did. Just what the hell did C.C. think she could do for Lelouch that the Royal Guard couldn't? He knew for a fact that she wasn't particularly skilled in combat. He'd been able to take her down easily enough that night she'd tried to break into Lelouch's room.

He didn't get it. Though then again, nothing Lelouch had done that day had made sense to him. From punishing Gottwald with Knighthood to promoting Hopkins apparently at random, to the decision to to use himself as bait. Dragging a defenseless girl along into a war zone was just another oddity on the list.


Euphemia li Britannia had never been particularly spectacular at anything. She'd always known that despite her relative closeness to the throne in the line of succession, that she would never be as qualified as some of her siblings. In fact, the only thing she really had going for her was her girlish cuteness – something she had compounded to make up for Cornelia's definite rejection of all things feminine after their mother had almost had a break down over it. It was a burden she had decided to carry – being feminine enough for the both of them – even though she knew it wasn't really much and that it was silly.

It was nothing great, just as she was nothing great. She wasn't a spectacular soldier like her sister or a great tactician like Lelouch or a suave politician like Schneizel. She was just . . . plain, cute Euphy. However, she did sometimes like to think that she was the nicest of all of her siblings, and that had to count for something even though she wasn't sure what.

"I can't believe she had the gall to show her face here after what her husband did." Some gossiping nobles murmured behind her as they ran a bitter commentary on just about anyone they were able to.

"Did you hear . . ."

She ignored them as she glanced out the window to the beautifully lit garden beyond wishing that one brother in particular had been invited, despite knowing that Lelouch would never have made the trip. From what she had gathered, he and Cornelia had had a fight and they weren't currently on speaking terms. His presence would have soured the evening of her sister's Triumphal Ball, but she still missed him.

Since his return to the family, she had only been able to see him a handful of times, but even those reassurances that it really wasn't a dream or an illusion had still left her empty. It had taken her months to determine that the cause wasn't because she wasn't pleased to see him, but because the wound was only half healed.

When they'd lost him, they'd lost him and Nunnally. They had been lost as a pair and only half had been returned to them. It was the absence of his little sister that kept her from being completely filled with happiness.

Nunnally who she had been so close to. Nunnally who would nimbly braid her hair and make flower chains and play make believe with her. Nunnally, with whom they had used to argue over just which of their esteemed brothers they would marry when they were too young to realize that that wasn't how it worked. The same little girl who, in a fight, had sworn up, down and sideways that she would never be worthy of marrying Lelouch.

Euphy glanced across the room and wondered what Nunnally would think of the woman who had been made into Lelouch's wife. She really liked Abigail, despite how they had gotten off on the wrong foot when the older girl had tried to chase her out of the Aeries Villa, mistaking her for one of Lelouch's fan girls.

She had never really put much stock in first impressions. Lots of people were nervous when meeting someone new and entire relationships shouldn't be judged on a single meeting. At least, that's what she believed and she was always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt and a second or third chance at making a good impression. Even she got nervous, so she understood that talking to a princess wasn't something that was necessarily easy.

She detached herself from the window and went to greet her friend, smiling brightly as she examined Abigail's daring red gown. Her own dress was predictably pink. At some point in time, her mother had decided that pink was the color for her and her entire wardrobe had slowly been taken over by varying shades of rose.

"Abby!" She greeted warmly as she slipped her arm through Lelouch's wife's.

Abigail smiled charmingly. "Euphy. How have you been? How was school this week?"

Euphemia supposed that, in a way, she considered Abigail as another older sister (which she kind of was, what with being Lelouch's wife). It was nice being able to actually spend time with someone like a sister, so she usually spent one of her weekend days either at the Aeries Villa or accompanying Abigail somewhere.

Not that she necessarily loved spending time with Abigail more than she did with her real sisters, but Cornelia was always off making war on someone so she rarely got to see her, and Guinevere was often busy organizing this charity or that ball and when she wasn't she was usually off holidaying somewhere. And Carline, who was closest to her in age, didn't really like her. Loath as she was to admit it, the feeling was mutual. She found her younger sister a bitter, vindictive little thing without an ounce of mercy or pity. . . But that was just her opinion. She was sure that to other people, Carline was actually very nice.

So, it was Abigail that received the majority of her sisterly attention. Even tonight, when they were celebrating Cornelia's victory and safe return from Area Eighteen, she found herself glued to Abigail's side rather than Cornelia's. But Cornelia was busy, surrounded by a flock of men in starched military uniforms . . . and no, none of them were suitors.

They were likely discussing Knightmares or war or one of the other topics that Cornelia was so fascinated with but that didn't really interest Euphemia in the slightest. Even from where she was standing, she could see the pinching of Cornelia's brows which indicated she was extremely focused on the subject at hand. It was only ever when they were alone that Cornelia let the mask drop and became the sister she remembered growing up with.

Sometimes she got so sick of dealing with the Chief General that she wanted to cry in frustration, but she wouldn't let herself be that selfish. What Cornelia was doing for the Empire was important. More than important, it was vital. She was the Empire's Goddess of Victory and compared to that, Euphy was still just an annoying child.

"Euphy?" Abigail asked, quirking her eyebrow.

"Oh, yes. School's fine. Everything's fine. It doesn't really change, really." She said rapidly, embarrassed for letting her thoughts drag her away from the moment.

"Your dress is beautiful, by the way." Abigail complimented.

"It's pink again." She sighed, "But people do say it's my color."

"It does look good on you, but a little variety never hurts. Why don't we go shopping next weekend?" The Princess-Consort offered.

"Really? That sounds great." She smiled and desperately wanted to ask if they could go watch a movie or eat out or something that would generally be considered 'commoner-ish', but she knew Abigail wouldn't go for it. Sure, royalty could watch a movie, but it more often than not consisted of purchasing the movie reel and watching it in a home theater or buying out the whole theater. And so even if there was popcorn and soft drinks, the atmosphere was completely different. Even the shopping trip would likely consist of going to a tailors and being measured rather than buying something ready made.

"It's a bit stuffy in here, don't you think? Why don't we go out into the garden and fine tune our shopping trip?" Abigail suggested and she had to agree. Nearby a group of middle aged men had begun smoking cigars and the cloying scent irritated her nostrils.

"Sure." She said, leading her sister-in-law away towards the french doors that led into the garden but in order to get there they had to pass by the same gossiping group of women who, apparently hadn't moved on to the next topic yet.

"Don't abide by all that senseless gossip. I have it from a reliable source that Prince Lelouch couldn't be bothered with her and left her here when he returned to Area Eleven so he could resume his relationship with the Ashford girl. They said she couldn't satisfy him." One of the women snickered.

Abigail tensed and, though her face remained smiling, her eyes tightened in hidden fury. "Lady Barlow, it's a pleasure to see you again." She said charmingly as Euphy couldn't help but frown at the woman.

"Princess Abigail! Princess Euphemia. You both look stunning this evening." The slanderous woman said brightly, as though she hadn't just been bad mouthing Abigail.

"As do you. I have to say that that shade of blue matches your eyes exceedingly well." Abigail complimented, before launching into a discussion on the designer's new line. It was impossible to tell that she was angry or that anything bad had happened.

She watched in wonder as Abigail not only engaged in civil conversation with Lady Barlow, but even managed to laugh and steer the conversation in a direction that left the woman smiling when they finally excused themselves and made it to the gardens.

She didn't understand. If someone had said something so hurtful to her, she'd have been fighting back tears. But Abigail hadn't even blinked, and she'd been dealing with this kind of gossip for months now.

"So, what are you in the mood for shopping for next weekend?" Abigail asked. "Just dresses or should we do day clothes too? Or both? I could use some new skirts."

But she couldn't focus on clothes right now. "Why?" She finally asked.

"Why what?" Abigail asked.

"Why didn't you get angry at that woman? Why were you nice to her instead?" Euphy asked and, for the self-proclaimed nicest member of the royal family, the question was vitally important. Maybe she wasn't as nice as she thought she was.

Abigail frowned before glancing away at the tinkling fountain next to them. "Getting angry at her wouldn't have changed anything. Besides, everything I do now affects the vi Britannia name. Suppose I had insulted her and then it turned out that Lelouch wished to make an alliance with the Barlows later, how do you think he'd react if he found out I'd ruined that opportunity? People tend to remember bad experiences far longer than good or mediocre ones."

She blinked at the woman, amazed. "So, you did it for Lelouch?"

Abigail shrugged. "No, not really. Lelouch is hard enough to deal with even when he's not mad at me for something or other, so I do try not to deliberately aggravate him most of the time. But it was mostly for my sake. I have few allies in Pendragon. The web is so convoluted here that it's difficult to get a foot in the door. No one would have dared to slander me on the west coast, but here I'm fair game. I'm not in a position that allows me to make enemies so I have to endure it."

Enemies and alliances. Euphemia sighed. What happened to just hanging around with people you liked? Maybe she really was too sheltered and naïve, but she didn't think like that at all. She was too straightforward to deceive someone into thinking they were her friend, but she guessed Lelouch was probably a bit like that too.

They'd probably make a great pair if Lelouch ever actually gave her the chance.

"Besides," Abigail continued bitterly. "who says it isn't true? For all I know, Lelouch did go back to Area Eleven to be with Milly Ashford."

"Now now," A voice interrupted behind them. Euphy whirled around to find Schneizel approaching them with a smirk. "don't let yourself believe such nonsense, Abigail. My brother's not that suave." He comforted.

"Prince Schneizel." Abigail curtseyed in greeting.

"How have you been? Did you enjoy that opera I sent you tickets to?" He asked. Apparently Schneizel was one of the few allies she'd been talking about before.

"Yes, it was wonderful. Thank you."

"By the way, Euphy, Cornelia was just looking for you. She has some news I think you'll want to hear." Schneizel said.

She felt her heart sink. So then, Cornelia was off again to somewhere dangerous. She always did this. Whenever she was about to be sent off somewhere, she'd pull Euphemia aside and explain the whole situation to her. She'd done it since her first deployment when Euphemia had only been eleven years old - sat her down and had explained who the enemy was and how she intended to fight them.

But . . . Cornelia had only just gotten back. She shouldn't be off again already. Usually there were months in between her deployments for them to spend time together. It shouldn't be this soon.

She sighed despondently. It had been over a year since she'd last got to spend any real time with Cornelia (aside from the brief visit when Lelouch had rejoined the family). And now her sister would be off again already. It felt like she was being robbed. "Alright. I'll go find her now. Thanks, Schneizel."

She prepared herself to go back into the ballroom and find her sister to hear the bad news. It was always bad news to her when Cornelia had to go away. But at least this time she'd still have Abigail to spend time with after Cornelia was gone.

She glanced back over her shoulder before entering the ballroom to send a final parting wave to her sister-in-law, but found that Abigail and Schneizel were already engaged in conversation and headed down one of the walking paths away.

She shrugged and turned back to the ballroom, sure that they'd run into each other later. And if not, there was always the shopping trip next weekend to look forward to. She swore that she was going to add at least one new color to her wardrobe, even if her mother didn't approve.

And . . . she wondered where Cornelia was off to next. . .


AN:

So, because I was bribed with some awesome fanarts from Komo and L.L. (links on my profile page) I decided to spend my day off writing this instead of smashing hollow men on Fable 3 *cough* I mean, instead of writing a paper. In any case, I hope you enjoyed it. I've been looking forward to writing this chapter since like . . . chapter 3. We're at chapter fifty now, so it's been about 47 chapters and 400 pages of waiting. But I'm glad I didn't rush into this. Jeremiah would have always made an excellent Knight of Honor, but now Lelouch so thoroughly owns him it's almost funny.

Also, I found a solution to the Abigail dilemma. Now, all of those who wanted to to see more of her have been appeased and all of those who most emphatically didn't want me to write from her pov are also appeased. I'd always intended to write from Euphy's pov, so I just introduced her to the story a bit earlier than I'd originally anticipated.

And yes, I created a new OC. I hope you like him. I'll get more into who he is in later chapters.

So yes. . . and wow. It seems like only a few weeks ago that I hit 1000 reviews and not I'm only a few away from 2000. That's incredible. Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed. I really appreciate it and I do read them all and am encouraged by all of them even if I don't always respond.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to review. And don't forget to check out the fan art!

Allora