A/N: I know this took a while again. But thank you for reading everyone, and for each new follow and each new favorite. I appreciate it so much :) Thank you wootanin, void242, Akira-Hayama, Euryphaessa Gray, Command Unit, and Freudentraene.
I don't know if I did any of these scenes the justice they deserve. But I tried :) I hope you'll have a happy reading anyway :D
The Wheels of Fate
"Will you promise me you will do all you can to return to me?"
She whispered her inquiry against his lips, her hands balled into loose fists against his chest as she stared at him through glassy lavender eyes. The tears were threatening to spill, and she tried in vain to keep them from falling. She hadn't wanted him to see her cry. He had this particular assumption that whenever she cried, she was sad.
Yes, it was partly true… But now she shed tears borne from the anxious trembling of her heart.
What if she would never see him again?
Men so often made promises, sailed to war, and never returned — leaving the ones they loved bereft and lost.
As horrible as it sounded, she didn't want to be one of them. But more than anything, a gallant and honorable man like himself shouldn't die just yet.
A tender smile bloomed across his lips. "Yes, my Princess." Gentle fingers held her chin as he tilted her head up so she would look at him. "I will always find my way back to you."
He must have sensed the longing still lodged deep within her heart. Her surprised gasp was cut short as he swiftly kissed her once more — both blissfully ignorant of the wind tousling their hair. The Princess clutched her Prince closer, winding her arms around his shoulders, inwardly wishing she could stay with him the way they were for eternity.
They kept kissing until their shared breaths dwindled, and when his lips left hers, his Princess looked adorably flustered, and panting ever so quietly.
"I love you, Euphie."
Heart melting, she leaned into his touch as he brushed her cheek delicately with his fingertips, before those same gentle hands wandered lower and briefly fingered the the delicate yet elegant golden chain clasped around her slender neck.
"I'm glad it suits you."
Taking his hand with both of her own, she pressed her lips to the knuckles of his first two fingers, gazing at his face adoringly, shadowed in the perfect pink hues of the sun setting across the sea.
"You made it for me, of course it does. I love you, Suzaku."
As swiftly as it arrived, the memory faded. But even if her present reality had returned, it still couldn't erase the blissful smile across her lips. Dreaming of her glorious Prince standing regally at the head of his royal war ship filled her with pride and hope — two emotions that drowned the worry and fear that had lingered ever since she watched the giant sails with the sigil of his house unfurl and disappear over the horizon.
He was off to fight in her brother's war. And here she remained with dear Nunnally, sheltered and safe from the conflict and the horrors. She didn't quite know how to feel about that, knowing her own sister and her brother had taken it upon themselves to challenge their sire who sat enthroned amid the Seven Kingdoms. And now her beloved had joined the fray.
To fear for his safety and his well-being was only natural, wasn't it? But whenever the worries threatened to so much as eclipse her elation and her true happiness, her hands would instinctively wander to the necklace — the gift he'd given her before he set sail to lay a naval siege.
The pink sapphire pendant suspended on the gold chain twinkled at her, and she gingerly cupped the fashioned jewel in one hand, turning it over to find his initials engraved on the back.
A thoughtful gift… And rightly so, for the magnitude of sentiment it held.
"You miss him terribly." Came a soft voice to her right — one she recognized. Still clutching the precious pendant, she turned to Nunnally, returning the younger girl's easy smile.
"Already." Princess Euphemia sighed. "A few measly days, and I miss him already. I miss all of them really."
Gathering the skirts of her dress, Nunnally claimed the empty space on the stone bench beside her love-stricken sister. She tucked a few locks of loose hair behind her ear as her own eyes were drawn to the opulent accessory Euphemia now had around her neck.
"Me too. Not just Suzaku though. Sometimes it's easy to forget that big brother and the others had marched to King's Landing more than a fortnight ago. It only seems like yesterday." Sighing wistfully, Nunnally discreetly eyed the custom-made jewelry some more before finally deciding to ask. "I imagine such a gift holds much meaning."
A peculiar sort of giddiness shown on Euphemia, and her eyes twinkled as her cheeks colored a rosy blush. "It does." There was a contemplative pause before she continued, "He— He asked me to marry him."
Nunnally's delighted laughter tickled Euphemia, and she shared her younger sister's enthusiasm. For it was somewhat of a big deal, wasn't it? A day before he left, Dorne's Prince had invited her for a leisurely stroll along one of the many battlements of Dragonstone. With windswept hair and ocean-kissed faces, he knelt before her and asked for her hand. After her joyous but shyly given 'yes,' he'd clasped their engagement necklace around her neck with her hearty permission.
She'd had some time to treasure the memory and revisit this particular instance over and over again since the day he'd left with the last of his fleet. She let the temporary secret stew and boil over, until she could no longer contain her exuberance and her joy, and jumped at the chance to tell Nunnally as soon as her younger sister had given away her intrigue.
"Do you think Cornelia would—"
"She would be happy." Nunnally beamed, clutching her sister's hand. "Surprised, but undoubtedly happy."
"I imagine Lelouch would be the same when you find your love one day."
"Oh, my big brother would faint."
The Princesses giggled at the thought of their doting brother falling over and dead to the world at the thought of Nunnally marrying a man. A seasoned military overseer he may be, he still had his moments of overreactions and being outright ridiculous towards the silliest of things.
"May I ask why you came out here though?" Euphemia asked curiously.
Nunnally's smile was radiant. "I was looking for you to ask if you'd like to join me in prayer at the Sept. Our siblings and your future husband could use our prayers."
Euphemia couldn't agree more…
The Princesses left hand-in-hand; off to pray for the brother and sister who'd launched their holy war, and for the faithful beau who'd promised her his safe return.
vVvVv
The war camp was awash with a myriad of activity, fires burned brightly as men, lords, and squires prepared hot meals or sat down to have drinks — just like every night. And CC left the comforting noise behind from the moment she pushed one of the tent flaps aside and welcomed herself into his tent.
Before today, they would have joked and teased one another, in a way that spoke volumes about how comfortable she was in his presence. But not now…
The tension was too palpable, and it was what made her uphold the mask. At the moment, she feared that if she did, her true feelings would bleed through easily. And he would see… He would see how her decisions and her words grieved her. She promised herself long ago that if he was in a situation where all rational considerations were abandoned, she would step up and be the voice of reason for him. To keep him from making choices he would sorely regret later on.
"Pull yourself together, Lelouch." She made herself say. He'd been holed up in here after the Farnese sons had left. She left him alone to process his thoughts, but now they needed to talk. "You've a cordial meeting with Lord Farnese to finalize the agreement and swear some oaths. And also to meet your future bride, of course."
"A stranger." He uttered with such contempt. "A bride I didn't choose, and don't care for."
"It doesn't change the fact that you need her and her father's armies. Lady Shirley might just be the perf—"
"Shut your mouth, CC."
The words that left his mouth were far from an outburst. The opposite. His tone was calm and cold as it could get. He hovered over the table that held the great maps of the continent, staring down at the pieces as if they were the real armies, marching against one another in a bid for supremacy. And even if he had his back turned to her, the distress was plainly visible on his hunched shoulders.
Yes, she understood how upset he was. She'd seen his expression when Farnese's sons had announced the marriage and left. He wasn't happy about it. But it was a necessary sacrifice. She thought he knew that better than anyone.
There was no such thing as a war without its own demands.
"You need to get over it. It's done."
She didn't flinch or start when his quiet voice rose, bordering on a yell as he turned to face her with fury burning bright in his usually warm violet eyes.
"Yes, and no thanks to you!" He ran a hand through his tousled hair and unclasped the mantle around his shoulders. The fabric pooled around his feet as he stalked towards her in just his fighting leathers. "Just be quiet, Circe. For the love of all that's sacred in the Sept, just shut up!"
He stared her down in challenge, waiting for cracks in her composure — wondering if he'd see his words affecting her as heavily as he'd hoped. And yet, when he saw the faintest hint of hurt flicker across her eyes, he knew he had overstepped a line. He'd reprimanded her before (during those early days), and she was as stoic as ever. But to see that his words affected her now more than they did before struck a chord within him.
The distress melted, settling into sorrow instead. The hands balled into fists at his sides loosened, and they reached for her face. She shook her head and stepped out of reaching distance.
"You were so irrational—"
"Was I irrational?" CC interrupted him before he could finish. "I'm certainly not the one throwing a temper tantrum over an obvious political choice."
"Political or no, I didn't want it! And neither did you."
"I—"
"Don't you dare tell me otherwise!" The seethed words hung in the air as an uneasy silence wedged itself between them. Several breaths passed before the anguished Prince uttered. "You'd sacrifice us?"
"If it meant helping you get what you want, yes." CC declared resolutely, raising her chin just the tiniest bit to assert her claim.
Lelouch felt like he'd been punched straight to the gut with those words. But why would she—?
"Besides, what could you have done under the circumstance?"
"We could have stalled for time! Let me figure out what to do overnight. You didn't have to agree to his terms on the spot—"
"We don't have time." CC argued, pushing him back gently when he tried to cage her against the table with his body and between his arms. "You once told me you were willing to do whatever it takes to win this war. For your mother. For the freed men who now fight for you, and for the common people who look to you for salvation. You promised me you would continue, no matter the price. And there will be plenty more to pay if you want your revolution to succeed. The affair is a small price to pay."
Their affair? Was that how CC saw this? After a year of being with her, and falling in love with her, she would simply shrug what they had off as an affair?
The Prince couldn't believe his own ears as memory after memory played in his mind's eye. The times they trained, those times she'd been with him on clandestine trips away from the capital; the tribulations they faced. Did a simple affair require her to confide in him about her own past and her own worries? And what about that time he'd cried and mourned in her arms after his mother had been executed? Was that part of a trivial affair? Each time he'd held her, watched her sleep, and thought to himself how much he wanted her by his side… Was that not profound?
Did she really not recognize their sentiments for what it was? Or was she simply feigning ignorance?
They'd never admitted it to each other plainly. But now, more than ever, Lelouch had the compulsion to blurt out the bald truth.
But at the same time, he couldn't…
"Whatever is between us isn't a small price to pay." The Prince muttered dejectedly.
He eyed her tanned skin and ringlets of black hair; knowing full well what was beneath the physical glamour. He wished she would discard her mask. If he was going to tell her, he wanted to say it to her real face.
"The love that Suzaku and my sister, Euphemia, share is not a small price to pay."
He'd given his best friend his blessing as Euphy's brother. Even before this whole ordeal with Farnese, he had been well aware of the inevitable matrimonial union between the Dornish Prince and his Westerosi Princess. Their love was priceless.
That same love and devotion (perhaps more) was what he'd poured out on CC countless times. And not just to her. He loved his mother and his sisters, didn't he?
No… Love didn't have a price. And because it was priceless, it couldn't be used in making trades or signing off deals.
"You're right. It's an exorbitant price." CC sighed sadly, ignoring the way Lelouch glowered at her. "Neither your sister nor your friend deserve to be torn away from each other. That just makes your sacrifice more profound. And thanks to that, you have the Twins, and roughly 25,000 more men to join your cause."
How could she say such things? He stared at her stoic expression hopelessly.
Distraught, he plopped down unceremoniously atop the cot, and buried his ashen face in his hands. His and Euphy's hand in marriage in-exchange for passage through the bridge and more men. (In hindsight, better him than Nunnally). Politics was always brutal. He knew that much from growing up in King's Landing. But he had been the one making the demands along with his family then. Now he was on the other side of the gate. Now he had to knock and ask for the toll.
She was right (in part), of course. But… But—
"I didn't want the price to be you." It was the quiet confession that stopped her in her tracks. She'd been about to leave, to give him the space he needed to sort through the recent events some more, but he'd stopped her with this. "I didn't want it to be Euphy or Nunnally or Cornelia, or anyone else I care about."
And despite herself, CC found a sad smile blossoming across her lips as she let the tent flap close again. She approached his anguished form and knelt before him, inwardly berating herself for making choices for them both. His hands were unsteady and they trembled as he covered his face.
"The reality of the prices you have to pay in war isn't lost on you, I believe. You knew something like this could happen — that this was a possibility."
"It doesn't mean I want it." He insisted heavily.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her reach for her mask. It slipped off of her face like protective cloth from a canvas. Lovely bullion eyes gazed at his face, stained with melancholy as she murmured her sincere apology. "I'm sorry, Lelouch…"
"In all reality, I don't have to marry her until after the war. I can just void it when I win."
"And create an insulted enemy out of Farnese? Even tarnish your own name? You will need your reputation if you're going to—"
Bitter laughter filled the four corners of the royal war tent. "My reputation is sullied enough as it is. I'm leading a rebellion. I'm a would-be usurper. Might as well be called a tyrant too."
Clearly disproving of his ideas, CC climbed to her feet. "Don't be stupid, Lelouch. You're smart. Act like it. If all goes well, and Farnese holds up his end of the bargain, don't hang him out to dry. Honor your promises. Or you face the threat of a slighted old man, and soon your realm falls apart the same way you took it."
"Of course it will." He muttered unhappily, taking CC's admonishment for what it was.
"Besides, there's no rule that says the Emperor is restricted to only having one wife." Her much quieter voice made him look up. With close intent, he gauged her face. "I can still serve you, perhaps even give you a son if that's what you desire."
Why was she suddenly stooping so low as to suggest she be his concubine?
With a face devoid of emotion, CC watched him and didn't flinch from the glower that stared straight through her. "I am not my father, and I refuse to stoop to his level of depravity."
Rising to his feet, he strode towards her purposefully with resolve, hurt, and anger swimming in a striking sea of violet. "And here I thought you knew me better than that."
Of course she did. In the span of almost two years, she'd never thought it possible to understand another human being so intimately the way she understood him. But it was perfectly possible, for she didn't just understand him, her treacherous heart cried out her love for him too.
But she couldn't tell him that… As much as it pained her, she couldn't lay down her truth. She would have wanted to. The many-faced god knew she wanted to. Before all this, it was just a matter of waiting for the right time. But in light of everything that happened, she knew she couldn't do it now.
He needed to cross that bridge, and he needed more men. They didn't have time to find another way. In the event when Calares' forces would regroup, they needed the Twins to mount a heavy resistance against the ambushing party. Perhaps her Prince could find a way to end Euphy's marriage with one of Farnese's sons. (She had no doubt he would find a way). But that would only solidify his own future-marriage with Lady Shirley even more.
So it was with a heart weighed down by grief that she uttered.
"I warm your bed and serve as your assassin. I am a servant and you are my master. I told you before. I am not fit to be your queen or your empress. Not an ounce of noble blood is in my veins. With whatever remains of my days, I vowed to serve you, and I will. If you want us to sustain our nightly affairs after you take the Iron Throne, I'm sure you know you can do as you please—"
Word after word left her mouth, and the more she spoke, the more she nailed the lid of the coffin on the quiet love that had blossomed between them. And he couldn't let her. He refused to… For she was not just his servant, and not just another warrior in his growing army.
She was his equal. His love. His queen.
Did she not understand? He loved her! Loved her.
And if she knew him at all, then perhaps she'd come to the conclusion that he refused to let anything terrible happen to the people he loved.
"Weren't my own actions clear enough?" He interrupted her before she could go any farther. He reached for her again, and when she didn't shy away, he framed her cheeks with his hands, and stared into her eyes with an intensity that rivaled the brightest of stars. "Perhaps I have failed in this regard, if you're assuming I don't love you enough at all. I promised us both that you would be my Queen."
He was so winded. Ever the impassioned speaker… It was so characteristic of him. And judging from the way he looked at her now, and how desperate he sounded as he tried to make her understand, CC knew he spoke nothing but the truth.
So he loved her, after all…
That's why she hated herself so horribly at this very moment. She vowed never to lie to him, but she was lying now — lying with the words from her lips. Every divine being in existence knew that she loved him too. Loved him more than she should.
But what was her love in the face of his cause?
She would rather see him alive and love him from afar, than attach herself to him now and watch him die from their poor choices.
"It was never meant to be." She was never meant to be his queen.
They may have promised, but times changed. Circumstances piled up. And promises needed to be broken if they were going to win.
"Circe—"
"I don't understand why you're so worked up about this." She made herself say in spite of the cracks in her own feelings, growing ever larger the longer they stayed this way. "As I've said, you can marry Shirley and keep me around if you want to."
"Why can't you understand? I want to marry you. Not her. I love you and not her." At her sad smile, his grip on her tightened slightly as he pulled her closer. "You don't believe me."
Of course, I do, Lelouch. Of course I believe you.
And she loved him too. Gods above, she loved this dauntless and fiery Prince so much. She had no right to him, but she loved him all the same. And no meddling of scheming lords or great wars would ever erase the imprint he'd already left on her very soul.
I love you… I love you… I love you…
She wished she could tell him. She wanted to, in this very moment. With their faces so close and their foreheads together, and his fingers tangled in her tresses; him nuzzling her nose and her cheek affectionately as he professed his love over and over. He whispered the words of matrimony over her lips, brushing his thumb against her lips — sealing his words and yet another promise.
They couldn't do this… They really shouldn't, because it would just hurt them both.
But he was stubborn. He had always been stubborn for as long as she knew him. And her words of protest died in her throat as he asserted—
"It's not a lie. I love you and it's not a lie. I won't let you cast that aside!"
She could have resisted him. She could have easily maneuvered herself to escape his grip. But she didn't. And she knew in her heart of hearts that she didn't want to. All manner of resistance had dissipated from the moment he pressed her flush against his own body as he claimed her lips with a painful kiss.
A kiss so assertive she could have sworn she'd bruise. Teeth nipped at her lips and his tongue slipped between her parted lips. Behind closed eyelids, the world spun faster and faster, until her own grip on solid reality began to slip — until she had no one else but him to anchor her to where they were, and what they had been doing.
He pulled back to catch his breath. Through her panting and her kiss-swollen lips, she tried in vain to speak.
"Lelouch, we can't. We have to—"
"It's done." Came his dejected reply. "So be it. But until the day I'm forced to marry her, I will have no other woman but you."
And perhaps before that day could come, he swore to the old gods and the new that he would find a way to break this sham of a marriage and still secure the alliance. She'd see. He'd make Circe see that he would do everything in his power to keep the ones he loved close.
She would be his queen, and no other. And that was why he refused to speak anymore about the matter. He would have her tonight… And many more nights after.
When he kissed her this time, her lips were pliant. And they parted for him as heat and passion poured into her. His hold on her slackened, and he held her face as if he held a baby bird, brushing his fingertips over her cheekbones while she embraced him and returned his fervent kisses. Fabric rustled and leathers were shrugged off as other bits of clothing were pushed aside and shimmied lower past the knees.
Clad only in her white undershirt with nothing underneath, she watched him as he removed what was left of his upper garments. The leather vest dropped unceremoniously at the foot of the cot. The Prince was half naked and had been in the middle of undoing the knots that secured his pants when one of the flaps of the royal tent were pushed aside, and Kallen Stadtfeld marched in without pause or consideration.
When she'd spotted his Highness's half nakedness and CC without her mask, it had been too late. The heady spell of lust came crashing down as the spell was broken. Surprised and confused, the trio exchanged wary glances, all frozen in place. But neither of the couple were more bewildered than Kallen. CC watched the other woman's face closely as she froze seven feet away from them, as one expression after another flickered into existence in Kallen's eyes.
Surprised to apologetic to confused…
Kallen didn't know what to make of this situation. And her cautious gaze darted from the Prince who was in the middle of stripping and to the stranger of a beautiful woman who occupied his makeshift bed — naked under the long and thin undershirt.
Who was this woman? Where was CC? And more importantly, how does Lelouch find the time to satisfy his wanton needs after how their day just went?
She didn't mean to be condescending, but if the strange woman took it that way, then so be it. Blue eyes scanned the rather exotic-looking woman from head to what-she-could-see of her toes. Luscious and long green hair fell at the woman's waist, while striking bullion eyes stared back unflinchingly.
It seemed Lelouch vi Britannia was no stranger to accommodating the needs of his loins. But if he was in the middle of bedding a woman, what did that make CC then? For all his claim at virtue and for being somewhat of a prude, it looked like he was no different from the ordinary man longing to satisfy cravings of the carnal nature.
"What do you need Kallen?" The Prince asked in a weary voice, retying the strings that secured his pants before his gaze wandered to the abandoned shirt in the middle of the fresh rushes.
Following his gaze, the redhead smirked, picked up his discarded shirt and tossed it towards him. "The lords of the Reach need to convene with you for a short time."
She expected disappointment to cloud his features, but it didn't. Instead, he gave a resigned sigh before glancing towards the strange woman sitting on his bed. "Very well. Give me time to dress myself and I'll be out."
"I'll try and find CC." The redhead offered, and added as an afterthought. "Pay your woman double." She nodded towards the stranger in his bed. "Something tells me this meeting will drag on well into the night." Kallen commented, uncaring about how uncouth she might have sounded.
She was annoyed, damn it. But she wasn't going to tell him that. She wasn't going to entertain the idea of being somewhat envious of the woman either. Any woman with eyes could objectively acknowledge Lelouch vi Britannia's charms and pretty face. So if she had the occasional fancy of being momentarily attracted to him, it was nobody's business. None but hers, because she was the only person who knew.
Unbeknownst to Kallen, her words affected Lelouch more than he let on. Some part of him knew he shouldn't care about Kallen's words. She had no idea what had been going on, or of the loaded conversation that had happened. She was clueless to the exchange between two lovers. But to hear her address CC as if she were some wench from a tavern off the road somewhere — even out of naivety, rubbed salt into an open and bleeding wound.
"She's not—" He was about to say, but was interrupted once again as CC rose from his bed and started gathering her discarded clothes.
"It's no trouble at all, Your Highness. I can return some other time." Not bothering to clear her face of the long hair getting in the way, she bowed briefly towards Kallen — acting unnervingly like an ordinary tavern wench from somewhere off the main road. "Pardon me, milady. I'll be taking my leave."
"You're no whore, CC. Stop pretending to be one."
A confused noble lady and a bewildered assassin stared at the Prince as he shrugged his leather vest back on, doing the laces himself and not bothering to call for assistance from one of the squires or privacy from the two women currently in his tent. He was too wary to care — emotionally weighed down by choices thrust upon him.
"CC…" Kallen trailed off, thoroughly confused as she glanced at Lelouch and took a good long look at the other woman standing unnervingly still in her plain undershirt, face devoid of any strong expressions. "What are you—"
"In the days ahead, you'll be working closely with CC anyway. So you might as well know. A faceless man of Braavos is in my service, and she is in this very room with us."
"I— You're saying—"
Kallen's surprise and confusion would have amused her to no end on a normal day. And though she had some serious doubts about revealing what she really was to the lady of Casterly Rock, CC didn't argue. She'd overstepped a line with Lelouch today (no matter that it had been for his own good). To atone even just a bit, she wouldn't contest him further — for the time being, at least.
With a resigned sigh, the faceless woman agreed and gave the confirmation the redhead needed to hear.
Yes, she was a faceless woman.
And the renowned and revered Prince of the Seven Kingdoms wanted her as his future queen.
vVvVv
Everyone folded to the whims of Fate, and everyone met death at the end of their long and harrowing journey. None were exempt… Not even individuals of grand authority. Just looking upon him now filled him with an odd sort of melancholy. For upon first hearing the news, his thoughts had been rife with sorrow and confusion.
He wasn't in anguish… Didn't even find it in himself to grieve. The indifference he discovered was more appalling to him.
How could he feel no sorrow for the passing of the man who sired him.
What kind of son was he? What did this make him?
How dare he call himself his father's progeny?
Laying upon his bed with the sheets tucked neatly around his chest, the Emperor of Westeros lay still. His body just a mere shell of the man that had ruled the Seven Kingdoms with a mighty iron fist.
Odysseus could only hope he'd be half the ruler his father was…
And what a mess the late Emperor had left behind too.
Westeros was in turmoil. The Seven Kingdoms were in an uproar ever since his younger brother raised the banner of rebellion across the land. The disappearance of his sisters followed soon after. Clovis and Schneizel were spurred into action while Emperor Charles' trusted council-men — the likes of Sir Bismarck — stayed at King's Landing. What more, they were barely recovering from the consecutive deaths of his father's allies.
To say that Westeros was in a state of anarchy was somewhat of an understatement.
As Lelouch marched with his army towards the capital; as Schneizel worked to subdue this grand rebellion, revolts had bloomed from every corner of the kingdom. House Britannia's reputation was in disarray. And with each day that passed, the grumblings of his people grew ever louder.
The dissent festering through Westeros was the very reason why none knew of the Emperor's passing last night. Only the members of the small Council and Crown Prince — now King-to-be — Odysseus knew of His Majesty's tragic fate. Taken by dysentery.
Odysseus hadn't the faintest inkling of how to break the news to his sisters here in the capital. If he did though, and the rest of the Red Keep would hear, the news would spread like wildfire. It would reach Schneizel on the North, Clovis on the field, and Lelouch and Cornelia in the Riverlands. But not yet…
"No other man could possibly come close to being a ruler like him." He found himself saying as he kept one hand on the tall bedpost while he looked upon his father's pallid face. "Did he leave behind a will, Lord Bismarck?"
"No, Your Grace. His Majesty never had the chance to create one before he became indisposed."
"I see…"
"But by right of succession, you are the heir to his throne, Your Grace."
Odysseus sighed. "And there is just so much to be done."
He and the rest of the small Council had to create a concrete plan of action on how to deal with the Empire's sorrows before they revealed the Emperor's death and Odysseus' inevitable ascension to the Iron Throne.
And they needed to create a concrete plan quickly.
For days, Odysseus had deliberated and procrastinated on dealing with the uprisings and the common people's revolt. Thinking back on it now, he could see just how disappointing he had been. How could he hope to squash his brother's rebellion if he couldn't even solve King's Landing's own uprisings?
Nevertheless, half of Odysseus still wished Schneizel could work decisively and quickly enough to defeat Lelouch on the field, rather than let their younger brother come to King's Landing with his army ready to take advantage of the chaos and storm the city walls. Not that Odysseus knew anything about Lelouch's more recent activities. That matter had been relegated to Lord Waldstein before his late father had succumbed to the illness ravaging his body.
Sighing through his nose, Odysseus solemnly bent the knee before His Majesty's bed, took the Emperor's limp and cold hand, and kissed his father's signet ring in reverence and to receive some semblance of a blessing for his own ascension to the Throne.
A prince had knelt, and a new Emperor rose to his feet as he stalked outside of the eerily cold bedchamber.
He had plenty of arrangements to make…
