"Guilford, Euphiane, I've returned," Cornelia announced pleasantly as she entered the house.
There had always been two versions of Cornelia – the Cornelia who was the successor to Marianne the Flash, and the Cornelia who her closest family saw. The latter was generally only ever seen by Euphemia and Schneizel. The former was generally seen by everyone else.
Cornelia at her most relaxed was deferential, conciliatory, even sweet. She was most famously exceptionally doting on her younger blood-sister. Raising the prospect of Euphemia in one context or another was assuredly the easiest way to incite Cornelia. Despite her best efforts to hide the fact from public view, it was as easily seen as the sun on a clear day from atop a skyscraper.
Even to this day, her military commission resigned and her powers as princess a shadow of their former potency, the other Cornelia was what most knew of her. That was the taciturn Cornelia who could make grown men quake in their boots. She had that quality where a word or two could be as intimidating as anything.
She was loved by those who served under her. She may have been tough, but they knew that she was always more than willing to do all she could to safeguard their lives and make sure they weren't running off to some battle where they had no hope of victory. She would gladly charge into battle at the forefront to help them win. They would trust her implicitly.
Given her personality, most wondered if she would ever be married. It was a difficult thing to imagine the sort of man who might quell her apparent thirst for the battlefield, or manage to pull her attention their way long enough for her to even consider it. That was why it made a certain amount of sense that she would find companionship among one of those who served under her. And in that case, her chosen knight who stood beside her at every turn made almost too much sense.
The wedding day was one of the happiest in the last five years since Lelouch's death. It was several short months after that when they had a child. Cornelia had been of the mind that she didn't want to know if it was a boy or a girl before it was born. If her weakness to her sister was as obvious as the sun seen from atop a skyscraper, her preference between a boy and a girl for her first child was as clear as the sun seen from orbit. There had been jokes abound that if she had given birth to anything other than a girl, Cornelia would have hunted down God and told him he screwed up and had to fix it.
It was important to her that her first daughter have a name that honored the two most important women in her life, so Cornelia took the first half of her sister's name and the last half of her mother-in-law's name, and thus arrived at Euphiane. The four-year-old Euphiane was a spunky bottle of energy. She was curious, playful, daring… almost everything that Cornelia had hoped she would be.
She called out a second time. It was a big house, and it was hers and Guilford's choice not to employ the cavalcade of servants that was typical of the royal family before. Normally it'd be expected she'd have at least a dozen servants on hand day and night. Now she barely had a handful who worked to prepare meals or clean sporadically throughout the week. Days like today there likely wouldn't be anyone until early to mid afternoon when they'd do some cleaning and prepare dinner. Guildford was more than capable of preparing breakfast and lunch. Cornelia tried her hand at it once; reviews were not particularly great. Late morning as it was, she was sure her two special people had to have been either upstairs or off on the back veranda.
"Mama!" the young girl exclaimed, scampering across the room in her canary dress to tackle her mother's legs.
"Euphie," Cornelia swooned as she scooped up her daughter, her already bountiful hive of rose hair bouncing through the air. To see her beaming smile was to affirm how fitting her father's nickname of "little angel" really was.
The little Euphiane looked so similar to her blood-related namesake at the same age, it was almost scary. They were even similar personality wise; similar reflections of bubbly joy and penetrating curiosity. To see the young princess lent credence to the conspiracy theories that said the Euphemia tormenting the kingdom now was a discarded child returned for revenge. It'd happened, more or less, with Marrybell anyway. Perhaps this "new" Marrybell, and Euphemia too, was a child that had been disowned and left for dead, returning now to get their revenge.
It was fairly obvious that the prospect of such a thing would weigh on Cornelia's mind, but she wasn't ever the type to let something like that show. Now that she was a mother, her worry was more with how others would look at and treat her daughter than anything else. Even though Euphiane was just shy of five, she was so attentive, picked up on things so quickly, Cornelia was very sensitive about exposing her to anything to do with the situation in the kingdom. There was a certain twinge of guilt she felt in thinking that it was her family's own history she was trying to keep from her daughter, a history that would eventually reveal itself.
Cornelia knew that the day was coming sooner rather than later that Euphiane would start to hear about her family from those other than her mother and father. She'd hear about how reviled her family had been, how disgusted the very name of her namesake was. She was already thinking about when and how to start explaining all of that to her little girl.
But for now, at least today, she didn't want to think about all that. After a long few days, finally being back home with Euphiane, all she wanted was to spend some relaxing time with her baby.
"Maybe its time to think seriously about finding a husband for Nunnally," Cornelia had discussed with Guildford not long after this nightmare started.
"I didn't think you were the sort to insist on something like that," he answered her back, a little unsure why she even brought up the matter.
"I never considered myself to be as feminine as Euphie or our other sisters. Even the crazed ones were more suited to tea parties and fancy dresses and ruminations about future loves than I was. But now more than ever I realize how lonely Nunnally must be. I can't be with her all the time. She has no close friends around her. The only people she can rely on are in and out of her company in a very transactional way. She must be very lonely having no one to talk to the way I'm speaking with you right now. She doesn't have a child to pour her warmth and affection into. She can't readily share her burdens with anyone."
"Well, I suppose I see your point. But I don't imagine there is an easy or simple solution."
"Right, I suppose not."
"It would be difficult to get her to even agree to meet suitors, let alone find one that she agrees with."
"I'll be damned if the only sister I have left ends up married to some useless halfwit only interested in her wealth and power."
That was the limit of the discussion. They traded names back and forth, not one impressing each other enough to say they'd even consider broaching the subject with Nunnally over the gentleman. It made even less sense to consider so in the current situation for numerous reasons, even though it was this situation which was spurring the subject.
"Maybe I should take Euphiane to visit Nunnally," she thought now. "That might help to ease her stress just a bit. Once this whole crisis is over, I'll make an effort to visit her more, and get away from the capital a bit too."
"Have you been playing by yourself?" Cornelia asked her daughter. "Where's daddy?"
"Daddy's with Auntie."
A look of slow fear tried to creep across Cornelia's face. Thinking of her daughter, however, she did all she could to keep a smiling face. There was no one else but Nunnally that Euphiane should have known to recognize as "auntie", and even then she had never once before called her such. She didn't have much appreciation for what "empress" meant just yet. She'd been more than happy to call her aunt "empress" as though it were Nunnally's actual name, tacking a "Miss" in front when trying her childish best to be a grown up and be formal. She knew enough that empress and princess were different things, and had at least stopped referring to her as "Princess Empress".
But that was all really moot anyway, as Nunnally was miles away back in the capital. Cornelia saw her just before her flight home. There was no way that Nunnally could be here.
Her thoughts immediately turned to the idea of a double. It was a particularly terrifying thought. Part of the debate as to what the totality of what the Alter's plan was, the argument was that the Euphemia and Marrybell were step one in sowing confusion. Step two was to have doubles of other prominent figures show up; a second Nunnally, a new Zero, or any number of foreign leaders.
That fear quickly shifted her thinking to how to protect Euphiane. She hadn't seen anything like a dragon outside, so maybe it was still safe to run for it? Or was that a trap? Whoever it was let Euphiane go. Were they planning to kill the two together the moment they ran out the front door? No, that wouldn't make sense. If they wanted her dead, luring her back out the door she just came in through was not a logical move.
Should she charge in with her service pistol? If this was really some creature like Euphemia Alter, that would likely serve only to make her laugh before causing any real harm. Try to stall for backup? Assuming that was even remotely possible, what backup would be coming? A planned military assault failed to harm Euphemia Alter; what would an impromptu attack do? If she told Euphiane to run away, would the girl listen? Would that be tantamount to sending her to die?
Cornelia was gripped by an unfamiliar and devastating sense of frustration. It was worse than when she learned of Euphemia's death – a maddening sense of having lost something incomparably precious and not knowing what to do next.
"Oh, it is you, sister. I thought for a moment it was perhaps one of your servants coming to work. Guilford was telling me how you two decided to raise Euphiane without relying too much on the traditional methods. I can only imagine how difficult that must be, but I think it's for the best."
Cornelia felt like her mind was melting away. Ever since the castle burned and she first heard from Nunnally's lips what happened, ever since she heard from Lloyd and his team of the possibility that more faces from their past might show up, she thought she had steeled her heart for that confrontation. But hearing that voice, seeing her gracefully walk into the room from the kitchen, it was almost enough to drive her insane.
"Eu…" Cornelia struggled to bite her tongue. She felt even more like she would lose something if she allowed herself to say the name.
"Guilford has been so kind despite my dropping in unannounced like this. But it was worth it to taste the tea he prepared, and to see little Euphiane too. I had no idea he was so talented at cooking. It puts us to shame a little, doesn't it?"
"W-Why are you here?" Cornelia asked, her voice trembling. It was a sight few would believe possible for a woman feared the world over during the war as having ice-water in her veins.
"To see you, sister. I wanted to meet you back in the capital, but I thought it was probably too difficult to do it back there. It's been so long since we've seen each other. And I get to meet this cute little one too," she said as she poked at Euphiane's dimple. The little girl let out a delighted giggle, aloof to her mother's terror.
"What happened to Guildford," Cornelia asked, trying to keep her bearings.
"I'm over here, Cornelia," he said, poking around the corner from the kitchen.
"Ah, do you mind taking Euphiane?" she said, scooping the girl away from Cornelia. Cornelia looked as though she was watching her child being eaten alive. She hadn't even realized she had drawn her gun until she saw Guilford staring at her as if to wordlessly tell her to stop.
"I wanna play with Auntie more," Euphiane whined.
"I'm very sorry little one. Your mommy and I have to catch up. Be a good girl and play with your daddy for a little while, okay? If you're good, I promise to bring you something nice next time I visit."
"Okay," she accepted. She scampered over to Guilford, and he quickly took her up in his arms. A small sigh of relief blew across Cornelia's lips to see her daughter in Guilford's arms. But she was still far from relaxed.
"I'll take her outside then," Guilford said, walking towards Cornelia and the door.
"It's still nice out even though it's getting so late in the year. You should enjoy it," she said as Guilford passed by Cornelia. Husband and wife exchanged a look, and it made Cornelia's heart sink. It wasn't something to be easily explained, but she knew that her husband wasn't fully there. It was almost like he was under the effect of a Geass, but not quite. Something was off, and she knew this monster had to be responsible, but she didn't know what it was she did exactly.
"Let's sit outside for a little," Euphemia Alter invited, heading back to the kitchen. "The tea Guildford made is still very warm. It's really very delicious."
It was uncharacteristic of her, but Cornelia couldn't hold it in. She called out, "What do you plan to do with Euphie?"
Euphemia looked back over her shoulder. The smile she offered felt so sinister it convinced Cornelia that this woman was not possibly human. "It's not like I'm going to eat her," Euphemia Alter said, passing into the kitchen. "It's a little strange for me to hear you call someone else that."
"I wanted to honor my sister," Cornelia remarked defiantly. Her heart rate had been speeding out of control, but with Guildford and Euphiane out of the house now, she was feeling a little more composed.
"It's very sweet of you to name her after me and Marianne."
"I didn't name her after you. I named her after my sister."
Euphemia giggled as she opened the door out to the deck. "You're going to be really stubborn, aren't you? I don't suppose that part about you will never change."
"Why're you here?"
"I said I just wanted to see you… and Euphiane," Alter said as she poured a cup of tea. "It feels a little strange to have a niece. She's so adorable. The only one I can really compare her to is Nunnally when we were children, although Nunnally was much more of a brat then too."
"You would call the Empress of Britannia a brat?"
Alter offered Cornelia a cup of tea, which she made no move to take. Alter let the slight pass without so much as a furrowed brow. "To me she's still the same Nunnally that I would fight with for your and Lelouch's attention. I was very spoiled too though. I wasn't like Nunnally who would fight for what she wanted and wouldn't think twice about fretting until she got her way. I don't think it's wrong to characterize her as a brat 20-years ago."
"What could you know of 20-years ago? You look to have been no more than a glimmer in your father's eye back then."
Alter took it as a joke and laughed. She sat down at the round table and sipped from her cup. "So many things can change in such a short period of time, yet there are other things that never seem to change no matter how much time passes."
"What did you do to Guildford?"
"I don't know what you'd call it, but when some people are close to me, they become enveloped by my presence. It's like they're in awe of me, and they get consumed with the idea of making me happy."
"You scare them senseless…"
"Not quite. I mean, I can't deny that I can scare some people thanks to the lies that were told about me. But this is something different. Even someone who hates me and wants to kill me, if I get close enough to touch them, that hatred will turn to love." She illustrated her point by outstretching her hand as if to be touching an unseen person. She pulled her hand back and began to further explain. "It's easy enough to overcome. If a person genuinely hates me because of anything I've done to them directly, or their emotions are too focused, it doesn't seem to work. I've learned to control it much better than before, so I can choose who it effects and who it doesn't for the most part."
"So you used this on Guildford and Euphiane?"
"Not exactly. Guilford is more susceptible than most, so he was affected a little just because I was around. Euphiane is just a very sweet child. I don't think I've had any effect on her."
"You want me to believe you?"
"Come now, sister. I know too well. Even after everything you went through with Geass, you probably wouldn't believe anything as supernatural as that unless you could see it yourself. I know how pragmatic you are, sister."
"So you won't even try to convince me."
"No. You only trust things you can prove and verify yourself. You don't trust me at all, and you certainly don't trust this whole business of my coming back from the dead. That's why you're so sure that I'm not really your sister; that I'm an imposter just using her name and appearance. They've even begun looking through the records of plastic surgeons to see if there was a girl somewhere who might have been a close enough resemblance to me to have undergone surgeries and training enough to resemble me. But you probably don't trust that explanation either."
"No one would be stupid enough to go through all this trouble to make you and then not think to at least attempt to present a finished product that better matches what the real thing's age should be. What use is a clone of a corpse?" Cornelia felt strange. It was unusual for her to blurt out her thoughts like that. She only ever did that…
"That's very crass of you, sister. I can't really comment on your reasoning, however, since I really am Euphemia. Any theory that says differently is wrong."
"If you came all this way just to say all that…"
"I came to see you, sister. But if you can't let go of your suspicions of me, then maybe I came too soon."
"I'll never forgive anyone who tries to use Euphemia's name to commit such atrocities!"
"Did you get swept into their current too? I must be because you aren't regularly involved in that sort of thing anymore. I'm sure someone noticed, but they probably didn't think it was important enough to mention," she sighed as she stood up.
"Leaving?"
"Yes. I would stay longer, but I didn't want to take too much from your rest. I know Marrybell's made quite the mess for you. She doesn't well listen to what I tell her, so it's a little troubling. But it's very good to see you, sister. I really hope the day will come when you and I can be together again."
"If you really are my sister Euphie, then abandon all of this. Give yourself up and come with me," Cornelia pleaded.
As much as she had convinced herself this wasn't her sister, it was too difficult to fully abandon that feeling of a bond, that want to be able to reconcile her sadness and doubt with her hopes and dreams. Really and truly having an aunt to show off to her daughter, someone as sweet and caring as Euphemia; to let her daughter grow up beside her namesake, was a dream Cornelia wanted so much to see come true despite never thinking it possible. Now she was tantalizingly close. Even if she was a fake, if she could be a convincing enough fake – a fake so similar as to replace the real thing – that was good enough.
"I'm so sorry I had to leave without you, sister," Alter said with a sad smile. She walked down the steps to the backyard and continued out further away from the house. "If it were my choice, we would've stayed together forever. But that past can't be changed now. Even so, there is a future I want to see. I'll be working hard to make it happen. Bye bye for now, sister Cornelia."
A heavy, reverberating, sound like an impossibly slow beat of helicopter rotors buffeted the air. Cornelia had been so transfixed on her sister that she hadn't noticed the black beast approaching until it was already overhead, flapping its wings as it came in for a landing. With the ease to betray having done so a hundred times, Euphemia climbed atop the dragon. It again heavily beat its wings and lifted itself into the air, soaring away with the princess on its back.
Cornelia wasn't one to cry, but she did now. It was part relief, part sadness. Her family was safe. Of all the awful things she could imagine might have befallen her husband and daughter, none of those came to pass, so she could be more than thankful enough for that. But once more that devastating, excruciating, pain of seeing her beloved sister go away was with her. All the self-assurances, all the efforts at mentally preparing, fell apart in the end.