Chapter 30

Of Harrowed Scales

"Rule of the mob, tyranny of the majority. It would be as much a mistake to take at face value these disparagements of democracy as it would be to accept uncritically the claim that democracy is the most virtuous and just form of governance."

The time, early afternoon shortly after lunch. The place, not a public rally, but the senior civics class at Ashford Academy. And the speaker was not some politician, but Jean DuBois, a retired colonel from the Britannian Army that was an old family friend of the Ashfords. Indeed Milly, who was seated at the front, had known the man as Uncle Jean long before he became Mr. DuBois in a classroom.

"Every form of governance can be said to have advantages and disadvantages," Mr. DuBois continued, "but one must be mindful of the assumptions and preconditions that these advantages are contingent upon. And we must never, ever forget the associated cost." The stump of his left wrist fell upon a student's shoulder. "Millicent. What is the purpose of government?"

"To ensure that the upkeep necessary to maintain society is properly performed," Milly answered without missing a beat, "and to see to the needs of the people within that society."

"Correct," Mr. DuBois said, which the answer was, at least as far as Britannian educational doctrine was concerned. "And Cole, what are those needs?"

"The capacity of the people to acquire food, water, and shelter," Cole said, "and the means by which they can improve their lot."

"Adequately stated," Mr. DuBois said. "Now, democratic processes utilize a vote, usually that of a simple majority, to arrive at decisions, whether it be policy or selecting whom to hold various public offices. In the case of those offices, most genuine democracies, ones were the votes aren't outright rigged in the first place, tend to have few if any restrictions on candidacy, aside from citizenship in the respective nation-state, of course. The most common restriction tends to be that of age, since for some reason or another people seem to think the older you are the wiser you might be."

A few muffled chuckles sounded at that bit.

"Otherwise, public opinion is the sole qualifier or disqualifier of a candidacy," the teacher continued. "Tell me, Sophie, what sort of problem might arise as a consequence?"

"Well, the candidate that wins might not actually be the most qualified," Sophie responded. "He or she just needs to be more popular than the others."

"Quite so. Put that way, democracy seems to not do a very good job of making sure the people in government are actually capable of doing their jobs, no? Then again, that little problem's hardly unique to democracy, seeing as otherwise none of you would need to take this class."

More chuckles there, the students recognizing both the humor and the truth in the statement. The civics class was something all students at royally sanctioned academies needed to take for every year of secondary, from freshmen to senior. Furthermore, scions of a noble house, no matter how minor and what order of precedence they might be in, were required to pass every year with a moderately high score to qualify for inheritance. And the grades in these courses were not gimmies, with topics covered ranging from political theory to history to philosophy and logic. The Empire had learnt its lesson from the Emblem of Blood era, and really did not want another generation of nobles that lacked critical thinking skills. And if it could beat some of those skills into the commoner citizenry that also attended preparatory schools like Ashford, then all the better.

"Now that we have identified a problem, let us see if a solution might not be devised," Mr. DuBois said. "Eugene. How might a democratic electorate be prevented from choosing candidates that would then fail to uphold the common societal good?"

"You could require the candidates they vote for hold proper qualifications, like university degrees," the student answered.

"Certainly an option. After all, peers of the realm in Britannia are expected to successfully complete tertiary education before inheriting their titles. No reason why democratic societies should accept a lower standard for their officeholders. But what about referendums instead of elections, where what is at stake is a choice of policy instead of a person? Naomi?"

While the name might have implied a Britannian student, the girl in question was in fact Japanese. Naomi was also her actual name, not some Anglicized version. Hers was a rare example of a name that coincidentally existed in both languages, even if there were subtle differences in the pronunciation.

"You'd need the voters themselves to be well-informed," Naomi stated. "So maybe it should be the voters that need to hold qualifications, like degrees."

"Well, speaking as an educator, turning the masses into well-informed voters certainly sounds like a daunting challenge," Mr. DuBois said with a slight smirk.

None of the present students disagreed with that opinion. They might be worked hard here at Ashford, but all could recognize that the pace the school was able to set was because the instructors here worked even harder to make sure no one got left behind.

"Still, setting aside the tribulations of the teachers, can anyone here see anything wrong with Naomi's suggestion?"

A few students slowly shook their heads, while others continued pondering. Seeing no one able to formulate an answer, Mr. DuBois adjusted how he approached the issue.

"Millicent. How much is the annual tuition for attending Ashford Academy?"

At face value, it might have seemed odd to ask the one person that arguably did not need to pay tuition what the amount was. Then again, of the students present, Milly probably was the most likely to actually know what the amount was.

"Forty thousand pounds, give or take," the girl answered.

Though granted, the exact amount might still elude her. She was also including the sum for those boarding at the academy.

"Forty thousand pounds," Mr. DuBois repeated. "Quite a bit of money, no? Let's assume that, for argument's sake, forty thousand pounds per student is the amount necessary to provide an education of the caliber here at Ashford. How many people in Britannia would be capable of affording that kind of tuition?"

A fairly small proportion, everyone here knew. There were noble houses that would not have the financial leeway to send their children to an institution like Ashford, and while there were certainly some very wealthy commoners, the vast majority of the Empire's subjects were possessed of much, much more limited financial means.

"Let us further assume," Mr. DuBois continued, "that the quality of an education is proportionate to the amount of money invested in it. How much education is necessary before a prospective voter should be considered well-informed? How much money is available in the society as a whole to fund mass education for the entire electorate?"

By now the students could see where their teacher was going. An educational qualification was ultimately only as good as the quality of that education, and providing a quality education could get very, very expensive very quickly. If a well-functioning democracy required well educated voters, then the society that practiced it would have to both be extremely wealthy and be willing to dedicate substantial portions of that wealth to education.

"The cost is quite clearly great," Mr. DuBois stated, "but let us consider the rewards that are reaped. Any society that is able to provide a large proportion of its populace with such quality education will also in effect create a highly capable workforce, able to solve all sorts of challenging problems. Such a workforce would then translate into a more productive, and thus wealthier, economy. In such a way, the sustainment of democracy is a self-perpetuating cycle. Wealth is needed to ensure the democratic process does not break down, but the wealth spent to that end also serves to help generate further wealth. Sounds a bit too good to be true, eh?"

It certainly did. All of the students waited to see just what sort of catch Mr. DuBois was leading up to.

"If one looked at a purely self-contained society, then arguably democracy is possessed of great merits, once it's up and running at least. And let us set aside the vagaries of human irrationality, since no solution exists to remedy that. The issue however is that on the whole, no society is so privileged as to be entirely self-contained. Whether it be lacking a domestic supply of certain resources, physical proximity to others, or dependency on external markets, there will always be outside factors or pressures upon a society. And sometimes dealing with these external forces requires a diversion of resources that could otherwise go to maintaining the social conditions democracy requires to function. If the diversion becomes great enough and lasts long enough, then an inevitable deterioration in the quality of the democratic outcome will occur. Further, the previous boons that came from the heavy investment in education will also slowly be lost, creating a negative feedback cycle wherein a society will only be able to restore its prior prosperity at great cost, in wealth and all too likely also in blood."

After the class spent a moment or so digesting the lecture, a hand rose.

"Yes, Betsy?"

"If the society is on some downward spiral, how would it ever marshal the resources needed to arrest its decline and recover?" the student asked.

"Generally, the answer to that is, by taking a very, very long time," Mr. DuBois responded. "After the fall of the Roman Empire in Europe, it took centuries of slow and steady effort for Europe to build back up to a point where its peoples could enjoy a standard of living matching that of a Roman citizen at the height of the Empire's power."

Another hand rose. "If an external force caused a collapse, couldn't it also help accelerate the recovery?"

"Certainly," Mr. DuBois nodded approvingly. "Assume the force in question itself possessed the means and the motive. Though what emerges afterward is likely to be much different than the society of old. There will be certain signs of continuity, and a few more practices and traditions are likely to endure thanks to the shortened recovery. But make no mistake, the only thing more inevitable than one's own mortality with the passage of time is change."

Roundabout as the remarks were, quite a few students could sense a certain parallel to Mr. DuBois' broad descriptions with a very immediate circumstance, that of Japan's own situation. As a wealthy democracy, of the parliamentary variety, Japan fit the conditions their teacher had stipulated as necessary to be a successful example of such a society. It also served as an example of how such a society might fall due to an external force, in this case direct invasion by the Holy Britannian Empire. The immediate aftermath of that collapse had plunged many of Japanese people into destitution, and even now conditions were a far cry from pre-invasion levels of prosperity.

At the same time, much as Britannia was responsible for Japan's downfall, the Empire could play a role in the region's resuscitation. Ashford Academy already served as an example of one way Britannians could do so, but it had stood as a rather lonely one amidst all the corruption, malfeasance, and outright incompetence perpetuated by the viceroyalty of years past. Means and motive were thus both lacking, and the despondency of Britannians and Japanese both reflected that.

Now though, with a new viceroy and sweeping changes made to the local administration, nary a day passed without some new positive development arising. Whether it be the reconnection of power grids, the fixing up of broken pipes or roads, or even the extension of mail services, a steady march towards the greatest achievement, that of restoring normality, was making steady progress. It would still likely take many, many more years before Japan could regain her lost prosperity, but for countless of her people, that goal was now something they could imagine being met in their own lifetime instead of that of their descendants. That alone had a tremendous effect on morale, resulting in the more optimistic sentiment these days. No, it would not be the Japan of old, as Mr. DuBois said, change of some degree was inevitable. But it would still be a better place than the depths to which the country had plunged after its defeat, or so everyone hoped. For the students of Mr. DuBois' civics class, they had gained a better understanding of why that hope had arisen, how important it was to make sure it not be dashed, and what role they themselves might play in bringing about this brighter future to fruition.


"So it is looking like Albrecht will actually remain in Area 11 for the interim instead of harrying back to the homelands," a noble lady remarked.

Taking a sip of her tea, Yvette Stadtfeld, Albrecht's estranged, but still married, wife nodded.

"That is so. He apparently scents opportunity with the resurgent reconstruction efforts in the Area. And his business sense, if nothing else, has always been acute."

None of the other wives made any quips or remarks about what might be encompassed in that nothing else, not when they themselves held similar levels of dissatisfaction with their own husbands. Indeed the gathering today could be considered a venting occasion for the noble wives so assembled, all having something they found wanting regarding their spouses. Still, the meeting today was a rather more subdued affair compared to just a few months ago. The Cardinal Lamperouge's purge of the military and bureaucracy had claimed quite a few of the husbands of the regular attendees. Not all had been arrested and tried, some were simply fired instead. But in either case, with their husbands removed from their positions, the wives in question had little reason to remain in Area 11 any longer, and most quickly took their leave of the place to return to the homelands. The exceptions were those facing charges alongside their husbands, their apparently dissatisfaction not having precluded them from participating in whatever larceny their spouses were up to.

"To think he would return for the sake of business, but not to check upon you after that horrid affair in the ghettos," another wife remarked. "He could do with a lesson in warmth."

Oblique though it may be, that statement hid within it a subtle reference to another of Yvette's contentions with her husband. After all, Albrecht's return had coincided almost exactly with the return of his daughter, Kallen. That was no coincidence, and for the viscount to make such an effort to check in on her while only deigning to drop Yvette a call after Shinjuku spoke volumes about the extent to which he cared about each of them.

"I suppose I have myself to blame at least a little bit," Yvette said, though there was not much sincerity in her tone, nor did her listeners even bother feigning belief. "I assured him over the phone that all was well at our estate, and that I myself was fine, that he did not need to return. Having been married to Albrecht for so many years, I should have known he would take me at face value and do just that."

As tactfully as the point was raised, Yvette lent her own weight to the grumblings so insinuated. It would not do to come out and outright complain, such lowbrow conduct was the reprove of mere commoners. No matter how much they might scorn, or be scorned, the ladies here still had their pride as nobles.

"Truly, men can be so difficult to manage," another woman sighed in sympathy. "Seeing as they never properly grow up in the first place, better that they stayed boys forever. At least that way they'd be easier on the eyes."

A few coy giggles sounded at that, though Yvette hid her expression with the teacup brought up to her lips. While she too possessed a preference for younger men, they were so much easier to entice and wrap around her fingers than someone as steadfastly rational as her actual husband, she still preferred men, not boys. But who was she to judge the proclivities of others, seeing as all of them were here to seek indulgences.

"Milady Yvette," a sharply dressed attendant bowed. "Your room is waiting."

"Ah, excellent," Yvette said, setting down her teacup. "Well then, ladies, I shall see you after."

"Do have fun, dear."

"Oh, I intend to," a thin smile crossed Yvette's expression.

Rising, she followed the attendant out of the sumptuously appointed waiting room. Babel did not possess its reputation as a high-class playground for the rich and idle for nothing, after all. Even considering the baseness of certain services provided, the establishment made sure to at least provide the pretense of class. As such the attendant made sure to even open the door for Yvette, as if he were a real butler in a proper household. And who knows, he might have been in the past, before whatever turn of events led him to find employment here. Yvette did not deign to pay any further attention to the man, instead stepping in and letting the door close behind her. When her eyes fell upon her entertainment for the evening however, a frown creased her expression.

"My dear lady," the youth, and he truly was just a youth, said with an uncharacteristic smirk. "How I have longed to meet you."

"You, are rather younger than the regular lads I reserve," Yvette said. "Is this some mistake?"

"No mistake at all, Lady Yvette," Mao assured her. "And I promise you, this evening will blow your mind."


Despite not being in the same grade, Euphemia and Milly had fallen into the habit of doing their homework together, if only to keep each other company. This evening saw the two working away at just that, with Milly hunched over some readings assigned by her civics class. Mr. DuBois was at least a pragmatic instructor, so they were able to make do with a more modern translation of Common Sense instead of having to try to parse the verbiage of the version originally published in the 1770s. That would have made trying to analyze the democratic propaganda in the work even more annoying.

"Hey Milly?"

Looking up, the blond-haired girl regarded her friend. "Hmm?"

"How much do you remember about the Quebec Act?"

Milly cocked her head aside. "The Quebec Act? Uh, let's see, that was, oh dear lord Euphie, that was two years ago for me."

Euphemia offered a weak smile. "So, not much?"

"Well, it's not like I've forgotten everything, but it's not exactly at the top of my head at the moment. Ask whatever it is you want to know, and let's see if that can jog my memory."

The younger girl giggled slightly. "Okay, umm, so we haven't actually talked about it in too much detail, but the teacher mentioned how the Act failed to win the loyalty of the Quebecers despite granting them more rights and liberties."

"Right, Quebec actually tried to revolt, which ended up seeing the government revoke the Act after they put it down," Milly nodded.

"Mrs. Darling mentioned that too," Euphemia continued, "and that at least part of the problem was how the Act allowed the Quebecers to continue living in a segregated manner from the Englishmen that slowly moved into the territory."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Milly said. "So what was your question?"

"Well, it's less a question about the actual history, and more of a what if," Euphemia said. "Could the British government have done something to avoid the rebellion happening? To actually win over the Quebecers?"

"From a purely historical perspective? Probably not," Milly answered frankly. "The Quebecers wanted to remain as French as possible, which in the long term would have always put them at odds with the increasing inflow of British settlers."

"But, what is wrong with letting them remain French?" Euphemia asked next.

"To the Quebecers? Not much. To other British colonists? Quite a bit. I'm pretty sure the Quebec Act was brought up in the context of Washington's Rebellion, right?"

Euphemia nodded.

"Then you know that one reason the colonists did rebel was because they thought the treatment of the Quebecers, who were supposed to be on the losing side of the war, was too generous, while the colonists themselves were deprived of what they felt were their just reward for fighting for the crown," Milly said. "In that way, the British government's attempted generosity only made their own, more numerous citizens more resentful, and caused an even larger and costlier war to break out. In that way, there was plenty wrong with the British government letting the Quebecers stay, well, French."

"But why would the British colonists be so resentful?" Euphemia persisted. "Why should it matter to them that these new subjects of the crown be given some leeway?"

"It was more than just a bit of leeway, Euphie," Milly emphasized. "The Act, if I'm remembering right, gave priority to the Quebecers a whole lot of territory for settlement over the original British colonists, which colossally pissed off the colonials, who were expecting to get access to that land after winning it from the French. And we're not talking about small parcels or anything, we're talking about a good chunk of North America west of the Appalachian. This despite the Quebecer population being considerably, considerably smaller than that of the original colonies. The whole language and culture thing was really just the cherry on top, most of the grievances were political and economic in nature."

The way Euphemia's eyes wavered, the girl was obviously still not convinced. Or rather she found uncomfortable accepting that there might not be a peaceable solution, or at least not one that was feasible. Or perhaps she felt that all involved simply had not tried hard enough. Milly gave a slight sigh. There were times when the younger girl genuinely was too kind for her own good. She wanted so earnestly for people to just get along, that she seemed to take it as a given that people should be willing to compromise to resolve differences without resorting to force or violence. Such a stark contrast, that, compared to her older sister. Or even her older half-brother.

"Euphie, what's actually bothering you?" Milly asked. "I doubt it's anything actually related to a bunch of people that have been dead for over two hundred years."

The princess grimaced. "Aren't there quite a few parallels, between the Quebec situation and Japan?"

"In broad strokes, maybe," Milly said. "That being said, which one are you actually worried about? That the Japanese people might rise up in open revolt and we end up with a lot of people hurt or dead, or that Lelouch might end up hurt or dead?"

Euphemia's jaw tightened further. "I don't want either to happen, but I'm not going to pretend that I'm personally more worried about Lelouch."

"But you're not so much worried that you'd prefer him to pack it in and leave Japan at risk of exploding into open rebellion."

"No," Euphemia said with a firm shake of her head. "I'm not so selfish as to knowingly wish misery unto others just for the sake of my own satisfaction."

"But you're also honest enough to know what would satisfy you," Milly said, "and you're afraid you won't get it."

"Yes," Euphemia admitted frankly.

"In that case, why not try to work out angles for why Lelouch might succeed, instead of focusing on reasons for why he might fail?"

"If I knew enough to be able to do that, I wouldn't be having this problem," Euphemia said with a regretful smile.

"Well, fortunately for you, your big sis is here to help," Milly said with a wide grin.

Euphemia cracked a slight one of her own. "You're technically not my sister. Yet."

"Good of you to include that last bit," Milly said. "Okay, so first, let's get this question of leeway out of the way. You say it's not that big a deal whether new imperial subjects are allowed to keep their language and culture. But there's a cost to that. Say with language. If the local governments of the conquered regions continued to use French, or Japanese, instead of English, how is the central government supposed to interact with them or monitor their work? They'd need to and hire people with additional language qualifications, and those people would have to be fluent enough that small mistakes and mistranslations don't slip through official government documents. Then there're the people. If a local area's government doesn't operate in English, how are native Britannians supposed to get services if they move in? And if the locals themselves don't learn how to interact with an English speaking government, they'll be that less equipped to move to other places in the Empire in search of new opportunities. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, I suppose it does," Euphemia said, still reluctant but at least understanding the practicalities better now. "It just, feels a bit selfish to be forcing our ways upon someone else though."

Milly's lips thinned. "The world is not so gentle a place where that can be avoided wholesale, Euphie."

"Maybe not, but shouldn't we still be striving for that?" the princess countered. "Wasn't that what Lelouch said in his interview on TV?"

"And do you think that better world of Lelouch's would actually be a gentle one?" Milly asked softly.

That seemed to genuinely give Euphemia pause as she pursed her lips. "Has he really changed so much?"

Milly blinked. "I'd say he's only become firmer in convictions he's always held. Don't you remember how fiercely he looked out for you and Nunnally? There was that one time when we were playing with the horses, and you got knocked over. He got to you and pulled you out of the way before even any of the guards could get over."

From the way Euphemia's eyes widened, it was clear the younger girl had always regarded her brother under a slightly different lens. Whereas for Milly the long separation accentuated her memories of Lelouch's steely will, for Euphemia it only made more ardent the love he was capable of.

"I suppose it's why he chose you," Euphemia said, the edge of her lips quivering. "You seem to understand him so much better, and can help him in so many ways."

"And you think you don't?" Milly however was having none of it. "Think, Euphie. You said it yourself. Lelouch wants to make the world a better place. He's shown he can and will reach for an iron fist to do it, but he's also been working his ass off trying to avoid having to resort to that. He's firm, Euphie. He isn't some bloodthirsty warmonger. And every soft approach that works, that's one less instance of him having to reach for something hard. That's what my help, and Kaguya's, and even Kallen's, lets him do. We're out there helping bolster his hearts and minds campaign, trying to convince people that instead of moping about what they've lost, this is what they can get back, or gain completely anew. How does that sound in any way beyond your own ability to do?"

Euphemia stared at Milly. "But, what can I do?"

"Lots! Go kiss puppies, visit orphanages, officiate hospital openings. You're a princess of the realm, for crying out loud! Just having your name associated with something is going to draw attention, and if you draw attention to the right things, that'll help raise people's spirits, and motivate them to try to make things better instead of let things get worse."

"I'm not sure my mother would let me go public like that," Euphemia said, sounding more than a bit frustrated.

Especially considering how much effort had been invested in keeping Euphemia more or less hidden from the public eye, enough so that she had even been able to hop a flight to Japan without anyone noticing.

"Have you tried asking her?" Milly said. "Have you tried convincing her? Your mother might have been trying to keep you safe by hiding you away like that, but eventually you have to grow up and be your own person. To find your own path. You have a lot of soft power as a princess, Euphie. And you so clearly want to do good however you can. So why not start figuring out how now? Why keep making excuses to put it off?"

The way Euphemia's expression wavered, the answer was clear enough. The young girl was just not confident enough to make that plunge on her own. Hard to blame her, she was still just sixteen, and it was not as if Euphemia had that much experience acting as a royal in a public capacity. Another consequence of her relative anonymity. Reaching over, Milly gave her friend's hand a tight squeeze.

"Do you want this, Euphie?"

Milly's eyes were crystal clear as she held Euphemia's gaze. The firm determination in them offered not inconsiderate comfort to the princess. And being so comforted and reassured, Euphemia felt her own resolve stiffening.

"Yes," she finally said. "Yes, I want to help. To do something for my family. For my friends. For my people, even."

A palpable sense of relief washed over Euphemia as she made that declaration. Her doubts were far from completely gone, but at this moment, her determination was shining through them to keep her strong and steady.

Milly gave a wide, approving smile. "Spoken like the princess I knew you to be. So, shall we see just how many things there are just waiting for you?"

Returning the smile, Euphemia gave a firm nod. "Let's."


"So, you ready for the history quiz?" Rivalz said as he walked alongside Suzaku's wheelchair.

"I hope so," Suzaku said with a wry smile. "I can't believe we're getting one already."

"Ah, I wouldn't sweat it too much," the other youth said. "This one's a pretty simple one, just gotta remember a few dates and names. Who was Prince Ulysses' wife?"

"That would be the Lady Angelica von Hayek."

"See? You'll ace the quiz," Rivalz said as he opened the door to the prefect clubhouse for his classmate. "Oh, hey Kallen."

Rolling in, Suzaku saw that Kallen had indeed beaten them to the clubhouse. She had hurried out of class the moment the bell rang, and placed before her on the table was a large, black case, presumably the item she went off to retrieve.

"Rivalz," Kallen nodded. "Mind if I borrow Suzaku for a moment?"

"Sure," Rivalz responded immediately. "No one's scheduled to use the second conference room, so take as long as you need."

Quick on the uptake as ever, he even offered a helpful suggestion. Kallen favored him with a slight smile.

"Thanks, Rivalz. Suzaku, if you would?"

Conveniently, the second conference room was also on the first floor. Incidentally, the first conference room was up the stairs, and likely was called that because it was the larger of the two. Kallen held the door open until Suzaku was through, after which she firmly shut it. The Japanese youth regarded her with a curious expression as he waited for Kallen to explain why she wished to speak with him privately.

"First of all, I wanted to say thanks, for what you did at Lake Kawaguchi," Kallen said. "If you hadn't blocked the Raiko's shot, well, I might not be standing here today."

Suzaku blinked a few times, then nodded. "I should thank you too. You helped save Kaguya's life. That means a lot to me, as she's one of my few remaining family."

"You're welcome," Kallen responded, even cracking a wistful smile.

After taking a deep breath, she opened the black case, and from it pulled out a pistol. Suzaku frowned, but his surprise was fairly subdued. He doubted Kallen meant him any harm, the girl having no reason to wish him ill. Well, not at this point, at least. So the weapon must be for some other purpose.

"The compact M1911 will probably feel a bit different than the 9mm Browning models the army issues, but it's the most concealable sidearm that the Eden Vital armory stocks."

That was enough for Suzaku to at least infer part of the picture.

"His Eminence has a task for me?"

Kallen nodded. "He's wondering if you'd be willing to serve in a protective role while on campus."

"To keep Her Highness safe?"

To that Kallen shook her head. "Not just Her Highness. And the prioritization of the primaries is Milly, Kaguya, and Euphemia, from highest to lowest in that order."

Suzaku's eyes widened slightly. "His Eminence has prioritized his sister last?"

"As much as he would prefer otherwise, yes," Kallen stated. "And when compared to the impact the other two have on Japan's continued integration, from a purely pragmatic perspective, the Princess Euphemia really doesn't bring much to the table."

That, Suzaku could grasp, though the grimace made clear his unhappiness about such necessity.

"His Eminence's resources are also highly limited," Kallen continued, "and there is only so much overt security that he could put around Euphemia without blowing her cover anyway. If you're willing to lend a hand, that might help improve everyone's odds just a bit more."

"I'll do it," Suzaku declared immediately.

Kallen raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain?"

"If there is anything that I can do to help, I'll do it."

Kallen massaged her temple. "While that's certainly a commendable attitude-"

"Sometimes one's help might be unwarranted," Suzaku finished for her, cracking a wry smile. "His Eminence also said that to me."

"He's not wrong," Kallen pointed out.

"But he's the one asking for help this time," Suzaku said. "So this time, it probably is warranted."

"Fair enough," Kallen said, pulling out a holster for the pistol and slotting it in before presenting it to Suzaku. "The pistol should be thin enough to hide under your jacket. I probably don't need to tell you, but make sure to keep it hidden and secured."

"Of course," Suzaku said as he accepted the weapon. He looked over the weapon. "You know, considering how many upgrades have gone into these, calling them M1911s probably isn't really accurate anymore."

Kallen shrugged. "It's what the others keep calling them whenever I get handed one. And speaking of jackets," she pulled out one identical to what Suzaku was wearing now, "change into this."

Suzaku tilted his head quizzically. "Why?"

"Unlike the school's standard issue version, this one's bullet resistant," Kallen said. "Getting shot will still hurt like hell, but it'll stop hollow point no problem. Armor piercing's another matter entirely though."

"Like you said, every little bit helps," Suzaku said, pulling off his jacket. "Does that mean you're also armed?"

As Suzaku strapped the holster under his shoulder, Kallen let the flap of her jacket open to reveal her own sidearm.

"Any other students that are armed that I should know about?" Suzaku asked as he put on his new jacket.

"Two more transfers will be arriving soon," Kallen answered. "You'll get introduced to them when they get here."

The way Suzaku paused, the youth was clearly not actually expecting there to be more students like them.

"Is there some sort of active threat that His Eminence is worried about?"

Kallen pursed her lips. While Suzaku was trusted to help defend the primaries at school, he was certainly not cleared for quite a few things. That said, he did need to have at least some grasp of the threat if he was to be effective in his new role, and Lelouch had provided her with a general outline of how much she could tell him.

"You recall how the Glaston Knights misidentified Eden Vital's knightmares as hostile?"

To that Suzaku's own lips thinned. "Yes."

"We're pretty sure that the parties responsible for that misdirection are still at large," Kallen continued. "While exactly how they caused the misidentification is still under investigation, we suspect that the reason you, and the Eden Vital pilots, were not affected was because of the neuro-link interface that all of you are equipped with. Should those parties make a move against the primaries located here at Ashford, the more people that might be able to see through the misdirection, the better."

Suzaku frowned. "That, sounds like quite a few innocent people might get caught in the middle of a fight."

A snort sounded from Kallen. "If an attack hits the school, that's a given."

The answer did not assuage Suzaku's concerns. "Does Eden Vital have any nonlethal options that I could use in addition to the gun?"

"Less than lethal, yes," Kallen said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a collapsed baton. "But there's a difference between nonlethal and less than lethal."

With a flick of her wrist, she snapped the baton to its full length. Pressing a button on the handle, a buzzing sound could be heard from it.

"Hit someone with this, and you'll be pretty much guaranteed to knock them down, and maybe even out," Kallen continued. "But if you hit someone elderly, or who has a pacemaker, or some other heart condition, and the electrical discharge could end up killing them."

She collapsed the stun baton and held it out to Suzaku. The youth accepted it with a nod.

"It'd also be more useful at pointblank than the pistol anyway," Suzaku said.

"Probably," Kallen said. "Your magazine only has hollow point, more or less, not armor piercing, so keep that in mind."

Suzaku tilted his head. "More or less?"

"Don't ask me for the specifics, but Eden Vital made some tweaks to the cartridges to give them more stopping power. They still won't do much of anything against proper body armor, but if you hit center of mass of someone without armor, you're pretty much guaranteed to drop them."

"I see," Suzaku said. "That should be good enough, though. If I did need armor piercing, then I'm probably not facing anything I could deal with by myself."

"Smart boy," Kallen said with a smirk.

Suzaku chuckled, then regarded the girl more levelly. "May I assume you're kitted out a bit more extensively than me? Since you're, well, fully mobile."

"You may, and I am," Kallen responded. "I have an assault rifle stashed in my dorm room, as well as AP mags if it comes to it."

"I see," Suzaku said, then cracked a wry smirk himself. "Though presumably in your case, if you need to break those out, it'd be for holding out until real help arrives."

"It's good to see you have your head on straight," Kallen retorted, though she too was grinning.

Quite the contrast with their first meeting down in the tunnels. It would still be a stretch too far to suggest either actually liked the other, but even the snark behind their present exchange held much less acerbity than that original conversation. They were approaching something approximating comrades-in-arms, willing to entrust the other to watch their back. As bonds went, it fulfilled a necessity without the entanglement that came with friendship, which suited the two just fine.

"Finally, this little toy," Kallen said, pulling out a smartphone just like the one she had been issued. "Another Eden Vital special edition. This one's been configured to show you the locations of the primaries, so you don't have to go searching for them."

"How does it track them?" Suzaku wondered as he accepted the phone.

"It's actually tracking their phones, and they're each expected to keep them close by," Kallen said. "Things might get a bit tricky if they're in gym glass or something, but otherwise it should be good enough."

"Alright," Suzaku nodded. "So that's everything?"

"Yep," Kallen said, closing the case shut.

"No additional magazines for the pistol?" Suzaku asked.

"If you want an extra just to be sure, I can leave one with Kaguya for you to pick up the next time you visit her," Kallen said.

To that Suzaku grimaced slightly. "I'd rather not let her know I'm carrying on campus. A single magazine should be fine. After all, if I need more…"

"You're probably already in over your head," Kallen finished, flashing one last smirk.

Odd, that, for a soldier like Suzaku to think there could ever be enough ammo.


"Orpheus, Oldrin, Toto, welcome to Japan," Lelouch greeted the three lay members with a wry smile.

"Thank you, Your Eminence."

Orpheus was the that responded, while Oldrin simply dipped her head and Toto remained standing attentively behind her mistress.

"I know the timing of your transfer is somewhat inconvenient, Oldrin," Lelouch said, "but unfortunately the situation here is putting considerable pressure upon my available manpower. Or womanpower, I suppose."

"You always did work your sisters hard," Oldrin said dryly. "Your Eminence."

Behind Lelouch, Alice and Sancia both nodded in agreement.

"Only because I know every task I set is within their capacity," Lelouch however answered without any hint of guilt. "As I know is also the case with you."

Put that way, Oldrin arguably should have been given some impetus to not disappoint the cardinal. The girl had grown up with Lelouch however, and so was a bit more inured to his ability at emotional manipulation than others more innocent.

"I serve in whatever capacity Your Eminence demands."

Of course Lelouch did still outrank her within Eden Vital's formal hierarchy, so in an official setting like this, she refrained speaking too plainly her mind.

"I expect neither you nor Toto will have any trouble with Ashford Academy's curriculum," Lelouch said nonchalantly. "Though I would not underestimate it either. Ashford may not yet be a charted royal academy like Jenis, but that is more due to the relative recentness of its history than the caliber of the education it provides."

And that qualifier might yet be obviated if Euphemia completed her secondary education at Ashford to the satisfaction of her parents.

"I'll keep that in mind, Your Eminence," Oldrin responded formally.

Lelouch raised an eyebrow. Oldrin was being uncharacteristically stiff in her responses to him. While they had not been as close with each other as with their respective cohorts, Oldrin had sat many of the same classes as Lelouch while both grew up under the guidance of Eden Vital's proctors. Even after Lelouch's ascension to head of the Order Militant, the girl had remained friendly, albeit a bit more cordial, in their interactions. As far as Lelouch could recall, there was no particular reason for Oldrin to be short with him, especially considering the two's rapport was good enough that a match had even been mooted in the past.

Ultimately that had not gone anywhere, as Oldrin found Lelouch a bit too severe in his mentality to want any particular intimacy with. As for Lelouch, while he would not have objected had Oldrin shown an interest, he was also not terribly broken up about her declining a match with him. In that regard, it could be said that their decision to remain otherwise friends was entirely amicable with no hard feelings on either side. Oldrin was also hardly one to get jealous over a relationship that never actually blossomed, so Lelouch now being attached to someone else was also probably not the reason. As the cardinal mulled over what might have piqued the girl, her brother solved the mystery for him.

"Oldrin's just annoyed that you yanked her out of Jenis right before the big Christmas dance."

"Orpheus!" Oldrin exclaimed.

Lelouch blinked. Apparently he was not the only one that had become attached.

"Well, my sincerest apologies," Lelouch said earnestly. "I was not aware of Jenis' social schedule. I hope my summons has not soured your relation with the gentleman that was to accompany you?"

Oldrin mumbled something, looking away. Again it was her brother that provided elucidation.

"Gentlewoman," he corrected. "And Marrybell was actually right pissed about it."

A thud sounded as Oldrin landed a solid punch on her brother's side, causing him to crumple over. "Orpheus. Shut. Up!"

"Owww, my kidney!" the youth exclaimed as he clutched his side.

From the looks of it, Oldrin had not held back, which given her augmentation suite, meant if Orpheus himself was not similarly endowed, he might have suffered some actual bruising of the organ there. Lelouch blinked, leaning forward to better see if Orpheus was actually okay, and then back as his gaze shifted to Oldrin once more.

"Marrybell," Lelouch repeated.

There was only one Marrybell that all three of them were mutually familiar with, and Lelouch regarded Oldrin with some wonderment that she was apparently romantically entangled with one of his half-sisters. Or that one of his sisters was a lesbian, or at the very least bisexual. Then again it had also been many years since he last saw Marrybell, and much could have changed as she matured. Still, Lelouch could not help but gape. The girl flushed, a mixture of irritation and embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

"It's not that big a deal," Oldrin insisted. "Not for this day and age!"

That was true only to a certain extent. While same-sex relations were indeed seeing wider acceptance in society, there was still enough entrenched opposition to it in more conservative elements that coming out was not without some risk. And for a royal to come out like that, well, it was hard to predict what form the reaction would take. There would certainly be a backlash, but Marrybell being a royal meant people did have to tread more lightly, so long as the imperial family itself did not disapprove, at least.

"I don't recall hearing anything about this," Lelouch said. "I presume the grandmaster knows?"

Oldrin gave a snort. "Of course she does. And she's fine with it, so long as I fulfill my duties."

One of which was arguably made more complicated by Oldrin's preferences, though with modern medical technology it was hardly insurmountable. The Zevon bloodline was, like the Lamperouge lineage, one that Eden Vital had spent generations carefully cultivating and improving. As such there was an outright obligation that scions of those two bloodlines have children to continue them. Their prospective partners were also very carefully screened, to ensure that any resulting progeny would continue to possess the desired qualities. Not that genetics was so malleable as to allow one to easily breed readily evident behavioral or mental traits in humans, but Eden Vital did at least prefer children more receptive to their style of nurturing. That at least made it easier to induce the characteristics they sought.

In fact, when the Emperor Charles was approached by Eden Vital to take on one of their own as his last wife, he had had a choice between Marianne Lamperouge and Olivia Zevon, Orpheus and Oldrin's mother. Both were personally quite close to Charles and his other wives, and indeed the two had played a pivotal role in keeping the families and friends of those wives safe during Charles' coup.

When the then-prince kicked off his attempt to unseat his grandfather using elements of the armed forces personally loyal to him, those family and friends had sought sanctuary with Eden Vital to avoid the reprisals that all knew would be coming. Eden Vital had accepted them, along with countless other civilians that sought shelter from the fighting that erupted between Fredrich's loyalists and Charles' partisans. Not that either side was intentionally trying to target civilians, but urban warfare tended to be somewhat indiscriminate due to the lethality of modern heavy arms. And it just so happened that Eden Vital's various churches and facilities around the capital were very, very sturdily built. One would be forgiven for thinking they were intentionally designed to withstand sieges.

For the most part, the Order's facilities were left alone, since again, neither side was actually trying to get noncombatants killed. The cathedral that was sheltering the noble families loyal to Charles however was something of an exception. To give the loyalist commander some credit, he did offer Eden Vital the option of peaceably surrendering the families. The Order however refused, on the grounds that the refugees were not guilty of any crime except association. Granted since the crime their other family members would be guilty of was treason should the coup fail, association arguably still warranted some degree of culpability. It was a threadbare excuse, but one Eden Vital stuck to, making clear that if the loyalists wanted the refugees, they would need to resort to force.

What followed was arguably something of a defining moment for the entire coup. The loyalists had likely expected to roll over Eden Vital with ease, a not unreasonable expectation since the Order did its best to remain discreet about the capabilities of its Order Militant while emphasizing the scientific, educational, and charitable efforts of its other branches. As such, when the loyalists launched their first assault, they ran headlong into a highly trained and very well armed platoon of church militants. Once the first shot was fired, the gloves came off on both sides, with the loyalists calling in reinforcements after being initially rebuffed and the defenders doing likewise. In the end, two full loyalist companies laid siege to the cathedral, while a single Eden Vital company managed to reach and fight their way through to join the defenders. Amongst the relief force was one Olivia Zevon, and of the heavily reduced defenders, Marianne Lamperouge.

By the time more substantial reinforcements from Britannian army regulars loyal to Charles arrived, fully a third of the defenders had fallen, with another quarter or so wounded to the point of being incapable of further combat. The attackers had suffered twice those losses however, and were easily wiped out once the army units moved in. But the initial defense of those families had been borne entirely by Eden Vital, and all agreed they paid a heavy price for it. Indeed, the imagery of the badly damaged cathedral and the equally wrecked surrounding neighborhood spread like wildfire across the Empire.

The outrage it elicited saw multiple peers that had previously been undecided declare for Charles, along with more and more units of the armed forces. By the end of the day, it was clear to all that Fredrich's position was untenable, and that for the good of Britannia, he should willingly abdicate to more quickly end the fighting. Unfortunately, in perhaps his first and only display of a spine, Fredrich refused, broadcasting a declaration that he would see all the traitors hanged or lined up against the wall, along with their families. Not that there was any chance of that happening, but it did force Charles to actually storm the imperial palace. The pointlessness of the ensuing deaths was probably what infuriated Charles enough that he promptly shot his grandfather instead of taking him into custody. Still, Fredrich's death at the culmination of the coup did provide a certain finality to the man's reign, as well as removing any possibility of him serving as some sort of rallying point for disaffected factions that opposed Charles' ascension.

As for the more personal consequences of that day, needless to say Charles and his future wives were all immensely grateful to the Eden Vital defenders that had bled to protect their families. And as the two ranking survivors that commanded the defense after their superior fell, Marianne and Olivia were showered with especial affection. Both were appointed to the Rounds and both spent several years personally accompanying Charles or one of his wives as a guard. By the time the possibility of a union was broached, none of the involved parties had any objections, save one.

Despite being the one to suggest the union, C.C. was only willing to release one of her prioresses for marriage to Charles. Practically, losing the services of both at the same time would have been a major inconvenience for the grandmaster. And genealogically, Eden Vital wanted to keep the Lamperouge and Zevon bloodlines sufficiently separate that a future union could be attempted without major risk of inbreeding. That union would be at least one more generation off though, due to Lelouch and Oldrin's lack of interest in each other. Or perhaps not, seeing as Oldrin would clearly have to go the invitro route if her relationship with Marrybell ended up going all the way. Someone would have to serve as the donor, and if it struck her as necessary, Lelouch was certain the grandmaster would ask him to serve as one. The cardinal tried to set aside such thoughts. No need to make things even more awkward right now.

"I suppose I should be steering clear of Pendragon for the near future then," Lelouch finally said. "At least until Marrybell's temper cools."

"Could take a while," Orpheus quipped, having recovered enough to do so. "Her passion hasn't really diminished much from when she was still just a child."

"She's not that bad," Oldrin protested. "She just takes things to heart."

Lelouch gave a slight sigh. "I'll leave it to you to mollify her if the need arises, then. Just make sure that she doesn't pull a Euphie and try to drop in unannounced. I have enough on my plate that I really don't want to have to look out for another imperial scion on top of the two already here."

"Don't worry, I made very clear that she's to stay in Pendragon," Oldrin said. "That's actually one of the reasons she was so mad. But, well, she'll get over it. And in the meantime, her mother will physically sit on her if that's what it takes to avoid her pulling a Euphie."

"Good," Lelouch said emphatically, then proceeded to get back on track. "Toto, you will head over to Ashford tomorrow. Get things set up in preparation for Oldrin's move-in."

"Understood, Your Eminence."

"Orpheus, Oldrin, tomorrow both of you will be testing your geass on a prospective candidate," Lelouch continued. "I don't expect the tests to take longer than a day or so, unless the Sabine techs find something that warrants an immediate follow-up. You should be back at Pendragon by the end of the week, Orpheus. And similarly Oldrin, you should be ready to start class come the new week."

"Understood, Your Eminence," the twins said in unison.

"You have the rest of today to yourselves. I would recommend taking the time to get your circadian rhythm switched over as quickly as possible, but that's up to you."

"We will do so, Your Eminence," Oldrin said, as she and the other two tapped their chest with a fist in salute before taking their leave.

After all, tomorrow promised to be a most busy day.

End of Chapter 30

I actually didn't expect this chapter to be this long, but all of the exposition ended up significantly increasing its length. Yes, Eden Vital runs what amounts to a eugenics program. That being said, they actually have a quantifiable, measurable target that they're aiming for, compatibility with the thought elevator system. Which means that Lelouch actually got an OK from the Order before he started courting Milly. Eden Vital has enough genealogical information on the Ashfords that they can say with a high degree of certainty whether any child of Lelouch and Milly would inherit the qualities the Order desires. If their analysis suggested a union between the Lamperouge and Ashford lineages would not produce the results they wanted, Lelouch could still marry Milly and have children with her, but he would have also be obliged to have children with a candidate of the Order's choosing, via invitro methods if nothing else. Does that mean there are people that Eden Vital would outright forbid Lelouch from having children with? Yes, and it'll get covered in a future chapter.

So I'm sure Lelouch is just going to be thrilled with the consequences of Milly's conversation with Euphemia.

So, the artists I work with have been exceedingly productive in the timespan it took me to get this chapter out. No sir, I haven't been plowing countless multi-hour sessions into various games instead of working. And I certainly haven't been mulling over new story ideas instead of working on my existing ones. Ahem. Anyway, we have three more images of Lelouch's entourage. More are in the pipeline, and we might even round out their numbers by the time I finish the next chapter, at the rate the artist is going. Usual methods apply, replace dots and slashes where appropriate.

deviantart dot com slash z98 slash art slash Sancia-the-Abacus-868361259

deviantart dot com slash z98 slash art slash Lucretia-the-Cartographer-868361605

deviantart dot com slash z98 slash art slash Alice-the-Zephyr-868361970

I also have a work that is not for Meridian, but is for Calculus, my first ever Code Geass fic, and the longest damn thing I've ever written at over a million words. In that story, Lelouch also had a dedicated team following him around, though there were a few more guys in it. I of course went and commissioned an image with only the female members, because really, who cares about the guys.

deviantart dot com slash z98 slash art slash The-Deadlier-Half-868362270

As should be obvious, I borrowed very heavily from other franchises, such that despite being for a Code Geass fanfic, none of the characters in that image were from Code Geass to begin with. Interestingly enough, in Calculus, Lelouch's love interest was Charlotte. Which means thus far I've only paired Lelouch up with blonds. One wonders if/when that pattern will ever get broken.

I wouldn't be so quick to rule out specific imperial children just on account of how many wives I've listed. After all, all of them are siblings, and there are plenty of ways to make it all work out.

It seems at least one reader has not picked up the source from which I'm drawing my portrayal of the USSR from. Though perhaps that is not that surprising, seeing as it's been years since I last did any fics in that franchise.

Why would exponentials be brought up in Sancia's reference to imaginary numbers and polar coordinates? She's not trying to provide a detailed explanation of the actual mathematical model, which Kallen wouldn't be capable of understanding anyway, Sancia's just providing a very, very oversimplified analogy to give Kallen something the latter could mentally picture, however imperfectly. Sancia is glossing over a lot in her explanation.