Recap: Nunnally is dealing with Euphie's good intentions. Lelouch schemes in Australia and handles his siblings. Marianne is nosy.
Chapter 5: Dance of Royals
The E.U. and the Chinese Federation represent the greatest threat to Britannia's rule. The nations have an unsteady alliance but freely trade with another in order to stand against the economic might of the Britannian Empire. In pursuing conquest, Britannia has prioritized the acquisition of territories with military strategic value, ignoring alternative means of weakening her enemy.
The Middle Eastern Federation is often forgotten outside of its use as a staging zone for a proposed invasion into the E.U. or Chinese Federation. It's resources are of little value to Britannia, given that Area Two and Area Six supply much of her oil. The E.U. and the Chinese Federation rely on the M.E.F.'s oil to fuel their own production. Both have an uneasy alliance with the M.E.F to protect their economic interest and keep a buffer state between the two. Should Britannia conquer the M.E.F, both the E.U. and China will prepare for war to gain control of the territory. The only question will be who attacks first and when. The situation may possibly result in both nations joining forces to attack Britannia.
Britannia's foreign policy goal should be to keep her enemies focused on another, instead of herself. To do this, one should consider what has allowed the M.E.F. to remain independent since the First Pacific War: the control of trade between the E.U. and China. The port of Djibouti...
-An Analysis of the Middle Eastern Federation's Role in International Trade by Lelouch vi Britannia
Outer Concessions, Area Eleven
There were few scents etched into Nunnally's mind that could never be mistaken. No matter how faint or how long it had been, they would bring their associated memories into focus with startling clarity.
Some were innocent.
The tangy sweet and citric scent of oranges that always followed in Allie's wake and every warm moment shared between them.
Some, bittersweet.
The fresh cherry blossoms of spring-that perfume loved to imitate yet failed to perfectly capture-would never compare to those moments where she, Lelouch, and Suzaku picnicked beneath the sakura tree.
Some, nostalgic
Rice slowly simmering in a pot when Lelouch returned and recalled recipes from a time she ought to forget.
Yet these paled when she was forced to relive that night.
The sharp scent of gunpowder wafting through the air. The aroma of lavender detergent clinging to the guard as he pulled her away. The inescapable copper stench that would forever scar her memories.
The faint, but still recognizable smell, brought her to a stop.
Hands shaking, she paused the audiobook playing faster than most people could understand.
Unaware, Kallen and Euphie trudged on. The floorboard creaking beneath them. Allie's warm fingers ghosted over her skin.
Nunnally bit her lip, blinking back the tears in her eyes.
"I hope Mr. Cameron likes the card. We should have brought some flowers to cheer the place up," Euphie said. "I can't believe he would move somewhere so dreary!"
It was all her fault.
After Euphie's blunder, Nunnally had flown into action. Their plan had risks. Acceptable ones, she thought at the time. Some minor upheaval but all reversible if the worst should come to pass.
Then Euphie blabbed to Clovis. Ruined weeks of planning without a thought. Risked everything with her good intentions. And exposed a student film club to the whims of royalty.
Before her little stunt, they had been safely flying under the radar and safe from reprisal.
Nunnally had spent the last few weeks ignoring her dear half-sister as she desperately tried to run damage control. Clovis would feel slighted. Humiliated, at worst.
He had never taken well to such indignity. None of her family did.
She had cancelled her plans. Shut down the entire operation so the interview wouldn't see the light of day. Then moved Mr. Cameron for his safety. She wouldn't put it beyond her half-brother to send some thugs to teach a lesson.
The smell of blood was strong.
"He's not answering," Kallen called.
Mutely, she withdrew a hair pin and approached the door.
"Nunnally?" asked Allie, the only one to realize something wasn't right.
"You have the first aid kit in your bag?" Nunnally confirmed, as she wrapped her hands around the freezing door handle.
Allie's breaths were faster than normal. "Always."
"You can't pick the lock," Euphie protested as she found the keyhole. "Nunnally, that's illegal!"
"You're quite good at that," Kallen observed. "Seems like a useful skill."
Gingerly, she slid her pin further in, finding the familiar pins and nudging them into the right position.
"How can you say that? We can't invade his privacy. Maybe he's out shopping for groceries or-"
Nunnally opened the door and gagged.
Blood. So much blood.
The smell was everywhere. Assaulting her. Leaving her no room to escape.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched inside.
Blood.
Her mother lying on the steps.
Red. The only hazy color she could remember.
Blood.
Thunder roared in her ears and coupled with the overbearing smell, she had never felt more adrift. It was like when she woke up in a soft hospital bed, her legs screaming in agony, and not able to understand why everything was so dark.
"He needs medical aid," Nunnally managed to croak out.
Another door clicked open.
The scent of blood became even stronger. How could there be so much blood?
"I found him," Kallen whispered, her voice barely audible.
Nunnally rushed forward. Despite all her efforts, she had failed him. "Tell me, where he is hurt. Allie, we need bandages... Or Nathan."
Like before, someone blocked her way. Their hands wrapped around her arm, dragging her away. "Nunnally," Kallen said. "He's dead."
"No." Nunnally shook her head, ripping her arm free and stumbling forward to where blood drowned out every smell. This wasn't what death smelled like. That had been the graveyard. The corpses creaking and popping and the stench of rot curdling her stomach. "He's still alive. We need to help him. Just tell me what's there."
Allie grabbed her hand. "He's dead... I'm sorry."
No.
Yes.
Clovis did this.
She had embarrassed him with the little film she concocted.
"I can't believe he'd kill himself," Kallen whispered. "I know the screening didn't go as he hoped, but..."
The faucet was dripping. The one in the bathroom. With the twisty handles she had to strain to reach.
"I'll call an ambulance," Euphie said from afar. She hadn't even stepped into the room.
"No," Nunnally ordered. Her fingernails dug into her skin. Now was not the time to lash out. "We can't be the ones to find the body. Students shouldn't be over here."
She had brought him here, so he would be safe. But it hadn't been enough. She could've done more.
She would've done more had she truly thought that her half-brother would resort to this.
"We can't just leave," Euphie shrieked. "That's not right."
Nunnally ground her teeth together and inhaled through her nose. Again. And again.
Finally, her voice monotone, she said, "Clovis did this."
"That's ridiculous. Kallen said it's a suicide. He must have-"
"-She said it looked like a suicide," Nunnally cut across before her half-sister would say something disparaging and she lost her temper. She needed a clear head. She had to figure out how to handle this. "The bathroom faucet is dripping. It's too high for him to turn, so he uses the one in the kitchen. Someone else was here, then did the deed and washed their hands before locking the door on the way out."
"What? If he was murdered, then we have to inform the Knight Police. They'll find the perpetrator."
"They won't bother with an investigation," Nunnally said dully as she walked back outside. "Make sure you wipe down the door handle, Kallen. We don't want your fingerprints showing up here."
"You're just going to do nothing?" Euphie snarled. "There's a dead man in there!"
"Keep your voice down. We don't want to draw attention." Nunnally locked the door and pulled out a cloth to wipe the handle clean. "And I never said I wouldn't do something, but we're going to have to be discreet. A man died..."
She straightened, rolling back her shoulders. Andrew Cameron had died for her cause because she had miscalculated. She refused to let his death be in vain.
"I guess I'm going to promote the interview after all," she murmured.
"I already did that." Euphie sniffed. "I don't know why no one could access it off campus. But I fixed it. People deserve to hear what he said. And if he was murdered, probably more so."
Euphie. Had. Done. What?
"When?" Nunnally growled. Of all the asinine things she could do.
"Yesterday. Realized it after the screening when I couldn't show it to anyone. It's gotten quite popular. Lots of people are thrilled to hear from him again. They'll be devastated he took his life. But I guess it's to be exp-"
"-Don't finish that statement." Nunnally's heart pounded against her ribs and her nails tore into her palm. The pain grounded her. "A man is dead because of you."
"I didn't do anything," Euphie protested.
"If you had kept your mouth shut like I told you to, the short film would've been far beneath Clovis's notice. Then you re-released the interview the night of the festival, further embarrassing him. He had helped fund this little project. And Mr. Cameron's words flew in the face of Britannian ideology and the short film proved his point. Of course he can act. He's just not supposed to."
Nunnally sighed, stuffing her hands in pocket. "Clovis wants to maintain the status quo. He needed to discredit Mr. Cameron. There were other options of course, but killing him was straightforward and easy."
But if Nunnally found proof, it would be Clovis's undoing. She was going to rake him over the coals. He hadn't sought another solution. Proved himself to be lacking any human dignity.
Mr. Cameron was sub-human after all. Barely worth a thought.
It hadn't escaped her notice how he would constantly bemoan her lack of sight. As if the world's greatest tragedy was that she couldn't admire his paintings and stroke his ego with half-hearted praise. But he didn't mind painting her. To him, she was a fragile painting to be locked away, carefully tended to, and admired from the distance.
She was going to tear his precious viceroyship out of his hands.
He thought her weak; she would prove him to be.
When she was done, his reputations would be in tatters. He would hear the same words of disgust as she did when people thought she wasn't listening.
He would be nothing.
"Clovis killed him, and I'm going to prove it," she vowed.
"That's a heavy accusation," Kallen cautioned with the same curious lilt that always followed Nunnally's unpatriotic statements.
"I only meant to help," Euphie whispered, her fingers brushing past her hand before Nunnally snatched it back. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
"That doesn't change what happened."
"No one could've foreseen this!"
"I warned you, didn't I?" Nunnally's brow furrowed as she mapped out the surrounding area. "If you're not going to help me find justice for him, then go back to Ashford and do us all a favor and stay out of our way before you get someone else killed."
"I'll come. I'll prove to you it wasn't a murder. And if it was, I'll make sure the perpetrator is punished under the full extent of the law. Murder is irredeemable." By the end, Euphie's voice ceased wavering.
Nunnally ignored the declaration.
This was why she never shared the full story with Euphie and always spared the gory detail. Her world view was too stilted, always between one extreme.
Lying was unsavory. Stealing, wrong. Hurting someone, unjustified.
And the Empire a force of justice. Her family, above reproach. Their father, the only judge.
When these beliefs came into conflict, only one side could win. So the executioner was cruel for choosing his profession, while Cornelia was only doing her lawful duty because she was family. Euphie didn't like reconciling these contradictions, but she thought gentle rebukes would solve the tension. In the end, everyone simply agreed with her quietly, vowed to do better, and the next time, conveniently forgot to inform her.
Schneizel in particular had mastered the art. He would always comfort her, then inform her of some travesty of some enemy of his, and release her ire, ignoring Nunnally's disapproving frown.
If Euphie knew the full truth, Nunnally wasn't sure which side would win: her brother or Euphie's moral beliefs. So she too held her tongue and perpetuated Euphie's delusions.
"Brian?" Allie asked as they turned into the smoky streets.
"Who else?" Nunnally joked weakly.
"He only offers safe passage because of your brother," Allie whispered. "This... It's risky."
"I know. But that's why I have you, right? To be my eyes and shield my back."
They walked silently as Nunnally searched for something she could leverage. Her brother got her foot in the door, but she needed to continue on her own. Lelouch had his own concerns, and she would not add to his burden. She would grow her network of internet whispers until she finally had the power to strike a crippling blow.
She wasn't useless. Despite how much she despised the man who sired her, she was still a vi Britannia. And unlike Clovis, she was one of the few who could hold their own against Schneizel in chess. It was time for people to acknowledge that.
Allie tugged on her arm and a heavy truck rumbled past, splashing through a puddle.
"Thanks," Nunnally said and waited for her to indicate that it was safe to cross the street.
"A word?" Allie whispered, barely discernible over the din of traffic as they crossed the street. "I know you can take care of yourself, but I want you to let me take the lead."
"I can handle Brian," she said. Behind her, Euphie and Kallen began their own battle of hushed whispers over where they were going.
Allie groaned. "But at what cost? You're bringing your sister, an Imperial Princess, along. I've seen her in gym. She's utterly incapable of defending herself, and I'm protecting you, not her."
Nunnally bit her lip. A large population of Honorary Britannians lived on the edge of the concessions. Four Britannian school children would make enticing targets for someone looking to score their next meal.
"We'll be fine. Kallen knows how to fight as well. And I have a pocket knife. But we're not going to need that. We'll talk to Brian and be on our way."
"You're not thinking straight," Allie hissed. "Hell, I'm not either after seeing that, but you're out for blood. Can you even keep your temper? You've been snapping at people left and right for the past few weeks."
"And what am I supposed to do then?" Nunnally spat. Now even her friend was doubting her.
"Hey." Allie pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Just play the part. I know it's pointless to try and talk you out of this. I don't even disagree. Mr. Cameron... But I can't bear to see you get hurt. If we're going to take on the most powerful man in the Area, then we'll need every advantage we can get. And when things heat up, nothing will stop Brian from selling us out."
Nunnally nodded shakily and her raging anger ebbed. While Euphie was coming along to prove Clovis's innocence and Kallen's motivations were unknown, Allie was actively supporting her out of friendship.
"Please, let me help," Allie begged. "Relying on others doesn't make you weak. Even without me... You'd still find a way to be amazing and anyone who doesn't see that is a fool."
Rubbing her eyes, she nodded and leaned into her friend's delicious warmth. Relinquishing control was terrifying. Others could relax and enjoy the moment, content in the knowledge that should trouble arise, they could deal with it. Nunnally wasn't afforded that luxury.
Forewarned was forearmed.
Every scrap of knowledge she acquired was filtered through someone else. Like Allie who took the time to read out loud books or describe images. Her classmates who often fudged the truth for their own amusement. And then there were her numerous siblings. Often, they lied outright, thinking her too stupid to taste the lie in the air.
The only one she didn't begrudge was Schneizel; he lied to everyone. She imagined he thought it was amusing to weave fact and fiction together until no one could tell left from right and was abandoned to his mercy. Given the time, he could convince someone the sky was green. Sometimes, she called him out on it as he weaved a particularly elaborate fiction, and he would fall into a contemplative silence.
Nunnally stopped tapping the cane against the ground ahead of her, instead relaxing into Allie and letting her lead the way unhindered. "I trust you."
Neutral District, Australia
The worst part about being in Australia was that everything progressed at glacial speeds. Lelouch had only a few pieces left to set the board, but they merely required biding his time. Unlike in the division, there was no pressing issue waging war on his meager time. He had more free time than he knew what to do with.
And he should be doing something. Letting himself waste away doing nothing was unacceptable.
In desperation, he even asked his mother to send over his personal collection of books he acquired over the years. Normally, they rested in the Aries Villa, and if Lelouch needed them, he would ask a servant to send him one.
Having them on the bookshelf in his office made him feel like he was moving into the embassy. That he actually belonged to this opulent life. That he wasn't returning to his men anytime soon.
Unfortunately, outside of writing letters, he couldn't act any faster. His plan relied on waiting to see how others would react.
Schneizel had noticed his idle time and occasionally brought him along as he engaged in his duties as the Prime Minister, or requisitioned his aid in tackling the copious paperwork that came with the office. Lelouch now knew more about fishing and its impact on their coast than he ever imagined.
The knowledge wasn't particularly useful.
Schneizel wasn't empowering him but trying to keep him busy, so he wouldn't interfere in his own affairs.
To avoid his brother's meddling, he was studying the chess board in the embassy's library, replaying a game he lost. It had been years since he had the luxury to devote time to the game.
In the corner of the room, Henry and Frederick went through hand to hand drills. Or rather, Henry was beating Frederick up. The floor shook as they threw each other to the ground, and Lelouch let the familiar background noise fade.
Silence was more jarring. It usually meant something had gone wrong, and no one wanted to tell him.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as an unspeakable finished his patrol. Their presence had been steadily increasing over the past few weeks, bolstering the embassy's traditional security. Perhaps because of the upcoming festivities.
Lelouch glanced at Henry, marvelling at the difference between him and the guard. They were both unspeakables, yet Henry felt as if he was brimming with life. The other, an empty shell.
When he was younger, Lelouch hadn't thought much of it. Guards and servants existed beneath his notice. The unspeakables didn't even register.
Now, he was curious. They weren't normal. People didn't act like them.
Henry was part of the same order, suffering from personality changes whenever he returned from a meeting with the Emperor.
Tearing his eyes away, he focused back on the board.
Ah, there was his mistake.
He should have moved his pawn forward to prevent Nunnally from having access to the long diagonals and controlling the board. He pushed the piece forward and pondered the board. His sister had truly mastered the game.
"How can you focus with their infernal racket?" Guinevere asked, her nose high as she stepped into the library. "Go change into something more decent. It's time to rectify the lapse in your education, before you can embarrass our family further."
Lelouch looked down at his neatly pressed black shirt, branded with Britannia's sigil. "These are my nice clothes."
Guinevere brushed her hand across her temple. "They're black. You are not in mourning. Surely you have something brighter."
A brown jacket and a casual grey shirt for when he snuck outside. Not that they would meet her exacting standards.
"Prince Schneizel already claimed the title of the White Prince. I merely seek to distinguish myself," he said instead.
"Of course you do." Guinevere scowled at Frederick and Henry waiting patiently. "Your guards look like common thugs. I lack the time to rectify this right now, but we will find a solution. This travesty shall not last any longer. At least wear a cape. Come now."
Lelouch raised an eyebrow and gestured at the chessboard. "I'm busy."
"And I outrank you." Huffing, she grabbed his shoulder and pushed him out of the room. "You will be joining me for afternoon tea, and we will discuss appropriate options for you. Our family has no use for leeches. Since the Empire is stable now, Father may be content to allow his younger children more time to relax. You are not afforded that luxury, having no proper allies or lineage to call on."
"You almost sound worried," Lelouch said, massaging his shoulders.
"Of course not. Your poor performance reflects badly on not just yourself but our entire family. I have protected the sanctity of our family, since I was fourteen. You make up a ridiculous excuse about selling furniture. Honestly, if you're going to lie, at least put the effort in."
That was the point. An obvious lie with scant few supporting details made people feel accomplished when they discover the deception. Content at discovering one of his secrets, they were less likely to dig further. He had even prepared an additional cover story should someone investigate further. They would come to the conclusion that Lelouch was doing the Royal Family's accounting.
If the E.U. discovered he was Zero... there would be trouble. Art had already discovered three French assassins in the past year, who were supposed to find Zero and eliminate him at any cost.
Guinevere led him into her tea parlor, picked up a fan, and sat down, carefully folding the napkin and spreading it across her lap. Instead of the customary seat directly across from her, she gestured to the neighboring seat left from her.
Resigned, Lelouch sat down. Her fan snapped out, striking him on the arm.
"Again. You must keep your back straight. Never lean forward."
Closing his eyes, Lelouch stood and repeated the motion. Again, she was displeased, her fan biting into his skin. So he repeated the motion again.
And again.
Finally, satisfied, she allowed him to sit. But then, he apparently folded his napkin too quickly.
A royal should never be rushed.
It was just one miniscule mistake after another.
The steaming cup of tea and tray of scones brought back too many bad memories.
His hand trembled as he broke apart the scone. The fan struck him again.
"You are absolutely hopeless. A royal's hand should always be steady and certain. There is no room for uncertainty in leading an Empire."
Perhaps if she stopped reprimanding him with the damn fan, Lelouch would actually be able to focus. Her controlling presence trapped him in his chair. Standing by the wall, Frederick and Henry watched him, frowning.
Lelouch lifted the teacup, pretending to take a sip. "Perhaps the Empire would benefit more from a swift and decisive hand instead of wasting time on frivolities."
"Yet I am the one who Father trusts to control the court and keep him abreast of developments. Patience is a virtue." Guinevere didn't deign to look at him as the servants cleared the low table and reset it. "Now, I invited some guests to discuss business. No. You are not dismissed. You will drink your tea, eat your scone, and listen. Together, we may perhaps find a way for you to be of service to the Empire."
The knife rested on the table, glistening ever so temptingly.
The servant signaled at the door, and Guinevere bid him to rise. They stood patiently as the door opened and Lord Greenford, Lord Oberstein, and a young man stepped inside, dropping into a deep and proper bow. Lelouch offered a formal bow, not as deep, but still, excessively polite.
Lord Greenford kept his nose clean, but he thought similarly to Guinevere. Breeding mattered the most.
As for Lord Oberstein...
His eyes were too sharp, and his smile always had a predatory edge to it. At parties, he would frequently seek out Lelouch and make idle small talk. When he departed, Lelouch was left off kilter and wondering what insights he had drawn. Lord Oberstein definitely didn't believe his flimsy excuse, and he had his hands in too many pies to not be a threat. Undoubtedly, he was also dealing under the table.
If only Lelouch could find some proof.
"Bedivere," Guinevere greeted with genuine fondness as the younger man kissed her outstretched hand. He lingered for a moment longer than was proper. "The ladies must be flocking to your side."
"You are the only crown jewel of my heart," Bedivere promised, stepping closer into her personal space.
Lelouch averted his eyes. Across from him, Lord Oberstein's lips quirked as their gaze met.
Finally, Guinevere sat down. At a pointed look from her, Lelouch picked up the tea strainer and went through the motions of serving everyone tea according to their preferences. Usually, pouring the tea was reserved for the host or a guest of honor. Given that Guinevere hadn't even introduced him, she meant it as a reminder that he was beneath her.
Relieved that their guest's presence prevented Guinevere from openly reprimanding him, he nibbled on one of the small sandwiches, studiously avoiding the scones and leaving his tea untouched. Lord Greenford and his nephew discussed the latest fashion trends and the upcoming state banquet to honor the Australians and celebrate Cornelia's victory in Africa.
Representatives from around the world would witness the formal surrender of United East Africa. Afterwards, Schneizel would whisper poisoned promises of peace, as he orchestrated the conditions to goad the next country to attack.
Retaliating against an unjustified attack was better optics than outright invasions.
"The future is looking bright. Wouldn't you agree, Your Highness?" Lord Oberstein remarked, drawing Lelouch into the conversation for the first time.
"Yes, our efforts in eradicating rubella and measles have been quite successful," Lelouch said, deliberately misunderstanding. He couldn't condone their continuous expansion.
"Conquest, Lelouch," Guinevere tutted. "Some minor diseases among the filth hardly concerns us. Please pardon him, my friends. Marianne has been remiss in his education."
"It can't help but be expected," Lord Greenford agreed. "She doesn't have the necessary upbringing to do his education justice."
Lelouch smiled politely. The difference in his mother's reception between commoners and upper nobles never failed to startle him. To the commoners, she was proof that merit mattered. To the nobility, a threat to their supposed superiority of their blood.
"His presence here is for his education then. The Emperor cannot expect him to actually help in the negotiations," Bedivere said as he reached across the table to grasp her hand. "Your heart truly is brimming with kindness."
Filling out identical copies of forms because the copier broke (again) was less painful than watching this.
Lord Oberstein cleared his throat. "Where do you see yourself in twenty years, Your Highness? Royalty can't hide from the press forever, after all."
"A deserted island," Lelouch said. His father was old after all. And if Odysseus failed to hold onto the throne, the best Lelouch could hope for was exile. "I'm saving to buy a few. I wouldn't want my new home accidentally destroyed by a passing hurricane."
"You claim to have zero ambition?" Lord Oberstein stared dubiously. "Nothing strikes your fancy? Princess Guinevere will be an essential part of the new regime."
Doubtful. She wasn't exactly subtle about her ambitions to become the next Empress. She merely had the empty power of the nobility behind her.
Schneizel had a decade worth of connections from being Prime Minister and real experience governing. His influence would only continue to grow as the years passed.
Even Cornelia was a better contender. The army would follow her lead.
"I labor under no delusions. I'm seventeenth in line for the throne due to the accident known as timing," Lelouch said. "The race to the crown already began by the time I was born."
Guinevere sniffed. "Maybe if you exerted a smidgeon of effort, there will be room for you in the new regime as long as you remember your place."
Despite her condescending tone, her offer seemed genuine. She was honestly trying to court him to her side. Unfortunately for her, he didn't ally with people doomed to fail.
"I may despise Marianne, but not anyone can claim to have the ambition to sleep their way through the ranks and steal the title of Empress," she continued.
"Your proposal flatters me, but I must decline. I cannot risk the health of my line," Lelouch said dryly. He took great joy in watching the muscles in her neck tense as she realized his implications. Maybe next time she wouldn't drag him into her social engagements to mock him.
Her glare was a sight to behold.
Lord Oberstein served himself a piece of cake. "I think we would be remiss to ignore the plights of the commoner. Empress Marianne and, in the future, Prince Lelouch, aren't nothing. They have made no moves against the nobility to my knowledge, yet they are feared. Why? Because even you, Arthur, unconsciously fear the riff-raff. They're an essential element in the production pipeline. Remember, it's not a zero-sum game."
Lelouch gritted his teeth. Was Lord Oberstein trying to determine if he was Zero? As always, his face betrayed nothing.
"The commoners are greedy liars," Bedivere chimed in. "I eagerly anticipate the automations of our factories. Then we no longer have to deal with their incessant complaints. They should be content with the scraps we deign to feed them."
"If they seek to improve their standing, they should join the military," Lord Greenford added. "We offer knighthood to excellent pilots and skilled individuals for a reason. Only through fighting can they prove their blood is stronger than the average man's. Naturally, they should take care to not overextend their welcome. A lowly knight should never overreach their welcome. Marrying a viscount is fine, but thinking they can gain the title of earl? Utterly foolish."
Lelouch grimaced. Their rampant superiority complex did nothing to help Britannia, only sowing more dissension. If the nobility could be bothered to extend their vaunted manners to the commoners, then Zero would hardly be needed. Admittedly, their complex made it so much easier to sway their servants to spill their secrets.
"You disagree?" Bedivere asked sharply.
"In the past few decades, changes to the institution of knighthood has undermined its founding principle," Lelouch said carefully. He couldn't afford to make outright enemies of them. They would feel threatened by his beliefs. "Take for example the Knight of Honor-the ultimate expression of loyalty. Before my mother, they were awarded their liege's subsidiary title.
"Through this process, Britannia revitalized itself through fresh blood. Yet, politics denied my mother this honor. And this trend continues throughout the Empire: the avenues to acquire a noble title are being systematically shut down. Without hope, the commoners become restless and inclined to listen to the poisoned promises of equality from the French."
Lord Oberstein smirked. "The young prince is right, Arthur. Additionally, we changed the rules for Duels of Honor. In doing so, the lower nobility has gotten complacent, not worrying about having to defend their title. As we all know, complacency breeds weakness. Britain fell to Napoleon because our nobles were indecisive."
"And whose fault is it that knightmares are allowed in Honor Duels?" Lord Greenford sniffed. "The sword requires years of training to master. A mere Number can pilot a knightmare after a few weeks. Traditions exist to safeguard against dangerous elements. But when the threat changes, they must evolve, lest our very fabric of society is torn apart."
"A mind like Lord Ashford's is not one I'm willing to lose." Lord Oberstein deposited some cream on his plate. "The consequences of saving him were unfortunate. Yet without him, we would be unable to maintain our lead in knightmare development over our enemies. Our superiority is due to Britannia's unwavering commitment to innovation. Yet the French elevate more great minds, because they don't restrict their search."
For someone close to the Purists, Lord Oberstein's philosophy seemed to run counter to theirs. While not outright stating it, he was suggesting a system of merit. Most nobles would cry foul before even considering it. The risk to their personal power was too great.
Lord Ashford was an anomaly, his passion for research overriding normal concerns about the vitality of his line. If he didn't require crucial security clearance, he would happily abandon his titles and the associated responsibilities to devote more time to research.
Yet Lord Oberstein was not that kind of man. By all accounts, he was profit driven. The stringent class rules prevented his wealth from being diluted among the commoners.
Perhaps he was sincere about it being an issue of national security.
Lelouch wasn't convinced.
"It's always business with you," Lord Greenford grumbled. "You would sell your first-borne for profit. Innovation cannot come at the cost of stability."
Their conversation drifted back into less contentious issues and Lelouch allowed himself to fade into the background. He longed to make leading statements and sow the seeds of dissension. They would never be allies-a fundamental difference of belief keeping them apart. To them, his mother had committed the greatest sin by reaching past her station.
It was one thing for a commoner family like Roy's with a long history and significant capital to rise to nobility. Quite another for his mother, whose family had been well off, but lost everything to the Emblem of Blood.
Lord Oberstein though...
Out of the corner of his eye, Lelouch studied him. A seasoned politician, his face revealed nothing. Anything he divulged was intentional, leaving Lelouch with no way to discern his true beliefs.
When their eyes met, Lord Oberstein smirked. As if he were completely aware of Lelouch's interest and his frustrations.
"Prince Lelouch, a letter arrived for you," a servant whispered, waiting on his left.
"Pardon me," Lelouch said to the table. With a polite nod, Lelouch accepted the letter, brushing past the servant's pocket and depositing a small bribe. He needed more ears in Guinevere's entourage.
Guinevere scowled. "Lelouch, that can wait."
The paper was heavy and expensive: important. Hand delivered to him: urgent.
"I do have a job, Guinevere. Selling furniture requires delicate timing," he said dryly, covering his father's personal seal at the bottom.
His father had tentatively approved his plan and the initial draft of his treaty. He had an appointment to discuss the finer details over the phone. In return, Zero would attend the upcoming regional strategy meeting to discuss the ramifications of his plans and how to tackle the subjugation of the new Area Fifteen.
His comforting anonymity was slipping away. While the top brass would keep his identity a secret, the move showed his father tired of Lelouch playing the masked commander.
He frowned as he read further. Cornelia would be in attendance.
That was going to be so much fun.
"Right," Guinevere drawled, her voice dripping with skepticism. "I'm sure it couldn't wait for us to finish tea."
Lelouch finished the letter, folded it neatly, and passed it to Henry. Smiling, he focused on his sister. "But then you wouldn't have heard the happy news until tomorrow. My mother has decided to attend the banquet after all."
Seeing Guinevere's brief expression of horror, almost made afternoon tea worth it. Almost.
While she could disparage Lelouch all she wanted, his mother was beyond her reach. She had their father's favor; Guinevere had lost his.
"She said she didn't have the time." Guinevere glared as if he was accountable for her actions.
"The schedules of the Knights of the Round are erratic. Especially for one of her caliber." Lelouch smirked. "Diplomatic events are naturally important, but would you begrudge her for prioritizing Britannia's immediate security?"
Truthfully, he would have preferred for her to stay away. Her presence would irritate General Smilas, and Lelouch needed him to be overconfident, not beset by paranoia. Although his presence was perhaps why his mother had changed her mind.
Like Cornelia, she disliked frivolous social functions and only attended them at his father's behest. Playing with an old enemy was enticing enough for her to come voluntarily.
"I need to redo the entire seating plan. Bedivere, I would greatly appreciate your assistance," Guinevere said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "Empress Marianne will take Schneizel's place next to the Australian King. But since the Emperor won't be attending for security's sake, the left seat is now empty and..."
A servant brought a whiteboard, diligently marking down everyone's position.
Lelouch listened with rapt attention as she went through the guest list and possible arrangements. She was a master of her craft, casually recalling the personal likes and dislikes of their guests and arranging people to ensure an enjoyable experience... Or with the E.U, a series of minor, seemingly accidental, insults. Everyone was an expertly wielded piece on her board.
"Lelouch," she said, after studying the board intently, "you will bring a date."
"I don't have one," he said. "It wasn't a problem before."
"Everyone has a date. Before, I had Lady Vanessa fulfilling that role for you. Unfortunately, she accidentally insulted Empress Tianzi two years ago and Lord Xingke will now be seated next to you."
"I doubt Shneizel has a date. Or Adjutant Malcal." Surely, there was another solution. This was merely her revenge.
"He's the Prime Minister and Malcal's fiancé is flying in from Paris. He's some cousin to the main Malcal branch." She glanced at the board again and sighed. "I forgot he's a sexist pig. If I switch them..."
Lelouch frowned. During his probing, Leila hadn't mentioned any engagement. Nor did she wear a ring. Was their relationship mutual? Or a pure business transaction? The latter offered an enticing opportunity.
He ignored the slight twinge of guilt. She had begun the game, knowing what it meant to tangle with royalty.
This was just retribution. He was even playing according to her rules.
His elder siblings would've destroyed her completely. She still had a chance to turn back,-she wouldn't-and if she played her cards wisely, she could recover and forge a new future for herself.
In the end, his father approved, merely named a price which was technically part of his duties as Zero. He would be pleased if Lelouch pulled it off successfully. And that was all that mattered.
The Emperor's eyes would find no need to stray from Lelouch to his sister. But to be safe, Lelouch would go the extra mile. Satisfactory was no longer enough.
"What of Miss Sumeragi?" Lord Oberstein asked. "Her presence would help assuage the worries of the Chinese."
A banquet sitting next to Kaguya?
Lelouch shuddered. "No."
"You two appear on good terms... her constant marriage proposals aside," Lord Oberstein pressed.
"Her company is entertaining, provided one has an exit strategy. Dinner makes escapes difficult," Lelouch said.
"Invite her," Guinevere ordered. "Pleasing the Chinese is more important than your childish games at this juncture. Now where do I put Schneizel?"
His mother was going to be insufferable. Where her sudden interest in his non-existent love life came from, he had no idea. At least Kaguya would be delighted. The networking opportunities were great... He could probably trade the invitation for a favor. Like asking her to run a genetic test discreetly.
A backup plan was always valuable.
Lord Greenford leaned forward examining the seating chart. "I pity whoever is seated next to him."
"Put him next to General Smilas." Lelouch smirked. "They like each other."
"What part of constant insults lets you draw that conclusion?" Guinevere asked. "But it would resolve the seating chart neatly. And remind my brother not to underestimate my power."
"Seeing anyone hold their ground against Schneizel is a rare sight. General Smilas does more. He retaliates. Why wouldn't Schneizel be intrigued?"
Across the table, Lord Oberstein's lip twitched, in stark contrast to his companions' serious, contemplative expressions.
The servants around them were slightly too still, eager as always, to spread rumors about the royals. Lelouch wouldn't even need to bribe them. Dirt on Schneizel was always so enticing, a consequence of his almost pristine reputation.
"Well, he does seem distracted of late," Guinevere murmured.
Schneizel's distraction was more likely due to his efforts in investigating Lelouch, but he had no interest in enlightening her. He edged her on, "And everyone knows about Kanon..."
"Indeed..." An ugly scowl crossed Bedievere's face. "The delay in negotiations is most scandalous. His Highness has always been most prompt and he invited Guinevere to shirk the blame. There must be a reason."
Lord Oberstein took another sip of tea.
Guinevere hummed. "He has been tired of late. I wonder..." She turned to her friends. "Not a word." Naturally, that meant the entire embassy would know by the end of the day. "While I rejoice that he is proving himself human, Smilas is French. Whatever infatuation there may be, it will most certainly fade away soon. People rarely interest Schneizel for long."
Briefly, Lelouch wondered if his brother would kill him for this. Schneizel should be able to handle a mere rumor based on hearsay. Guinevere had done most of the work by voicing her observations. He should blame her. The two quarreling would give Lelouch some much needed space.
"Of course," Lord Greenford promised. "But speaking of the guest list, did you invite Zero? Many of us are curious to meet him. Surely, you must have an inkling of who he is."
"I'm unaware of Zero's true identity. I tried to invite him, but Father refused to pass on the invitation. Claims that Zero is busy. Same answer as always." Guinevere shook her head. "His attendance would have been helpful. The other nations are quite wary of him."
"Probably for the best," Lelouch said, desperate to guide the conversation elsewhere. "Anymore Britannians, and the Australians will be fearing an occupation."
A chuckle passed through the group.
Lord Oberstein stared at him intently. "Zero is quite a mystery. Who do you believe he is, Prince Lelouch?"
"A mere fiction," Lelouch answered, smiling to hide his inner turmoil. "Anyone can be an unnamed commander. The Emperor simply contributes any noteworthy victories to a symbol. Thus, Zero becomes renown, and our enemies spend time hunting a ghost as they prepare themselves for someone who doesn't exist."
Lord Oberstein raised an eyebrow. "An interesting theory."
"Oh, he is real," Bedievere said. "My fellow officers discuss him often. I would love to get my hands on an actual report of his. Major General Vandergeld has great respect for the man. Impressing him is almost impossible."
"Cornelia called it a bunch of hogwash. Apparently, he fights like a coward," Guinevere added.
"Inspired," Bedievere said. "General Cornelia employs brute force to devastating effect. Zero is like.. a scalpel. He must be from some great family."
Lelouch's eye twitched. His bloodline had nothing to do with it. He had found intelligent men within his division to promote. While having to defend every Number promotion among the upper ranks to his father was annoying, they were qualified, and he trusted them to execute his orders. Nobles merely benefited from a superior education.
Lord Greenford stroked his chin. "What of Ant-"
"-I checked when the news of his victory over the Count first broke," Guinevere said, shaking her head. "Father is still displeased with him."
Confused, Lelouch frowned. Staying apart from his family meant he wasn't caught up on the latest gossip. If there was someone who they thought could do Zero's job, then Lelouch's position wasn't as secure as he thought.
His father could replace him.
"If not him, then Zero must be a commoner," Lord Greenford said. "Otherwise, the Emperor would parade him around as proof of Britannian superiority. Although by now, his service should have granted him some minor title."
"I'll see if any titles were recently claimed," Guinevere promised. "Given that Father originally made Marianne his Knight of Honor, I doubt he cares. Zero could be a foreigner."
Lord Oberstein picked a small cake from the platter. "I think Zero is young."
"Ridiculous," Lelouch interjected. "Why would the Emperor put his trust in some unproven commander?"
Honestly, that question plagued Lelouch. He may have defeated the Count, but his father hadn't needed to promote him. A more logical plan would've been to put him in an advisory role to the division commander so he could learn the ropes. There was a reason nobles first attended the military academies.
"Early thirties perhaps," Lord Greenford mused. "It would still be quite impressive. Cornelia though made General at- What was it? Twenty-four?"
Social status was much more important than skill. Sons of earls and margraves bloated the top ranks. Occasionally, a minor noble would climb the ranks and be granted additional titles for their service to the Empire. While competent, their climb to power always took longer.
Fortunately, the conversation drifted onto much safer ground as Guinevere interrogated Bedievere on his opinions regarding certain fashion trends. Lelouch surreptitiously glanced at Lord Oberstein throughout the conversation, trying to gauge what the man knew.
Lelouch couldn't afford mistakes.
Knights of the Round Training Facility, Area Three
Marianne flipped through intelligence reports on Reuben while keeping an eye on the knights and their pathetic attempt to complete the training regime. Ernst was the only one dodging the obstacles with any medicorum of grace. In contrast, Krushevsky crashed into more poles than she avoided.
Ridiculous. They were supposed to be the best of the best.
Bradley rolled up to the starting line and the coms crackled as he shouted in glee. She shook her head tiredly at his antics. He was an excellent pilot, but his tendency to disregard orders and charge ahead kept him ranked at the bottom. Still, he failed to beat Ernst's score and his incoherent screaming echoed through the open field.
Focusing on the file again, Marianne absently reached for a cookie. She never thought she would go as far to spy on Reuben, but his behavior had become increasingly suspicious. He had shut out all but essential personnel from his high security labs, including the unspeakable assigned to him.
She was half-tempted to drop in unexpectedly, but knew Reuben would find an excuse to deny her access.
A few years ago, having to schedule an official visit to see him was unimaginable.
All of this effort for his new test pilot.
Seeing Bradley harass Ernst, Marianne barked, "Lucy, get your ass back in line! Behave, or you will take Bismarck's spot as my personal sparring partner."
"Yes, sir," he mumbled.
"Thank you, Lady Marianne," Ernst said. "Do you have any feedback for me?"
"You're relying on your specs too much. Put the factsphere on a two second delay. Learn to anticipate moves."
"Understood, sir," she said.
Marianne hummed in satisfaction as the next round continued much more smoothly. Her absence from spying on the Geass order had caused their training to lag. Bismarck was an excellent pilot, but teaching was not his strong suit. He didn't understand the limits of each knightmare frame and where specs ended and skill began.
Reuben could always tell the difference.
His lack of skill failed to stop his mind from picking apart a knightmare's movement to discern structural weakness and latency issues between the pilot and the machine. She had driven him insane in the beginning, constantly pushing her knightmare to its limits. Even now, she had a near perfect sync rate despite piloting a prototype.
Frowning, she pulled out the file on his new pilot: Kallen Stadtfeld.
Her simulator scores during the Academy's test, while impressive for her age, were nothing to scoff at. She was undoubtedly an ace, but Reuben had never felt the need to protect them before. Was it because she was half-Eleven?
Did Reuben really believe she would hurt her because of her blood?
Marianne winced, recalling her hunt for the Eleven boy.
Yes, he had a reason to be wary. In hindsight, she had overreacted. Lelouch's silent treatment had driven that point home well enough. She still despised the boy for turning her son against her.
Without him, Lelouch would never have been so stubborn and remained safe... Or an assassin would've killed him.
Fortunately, the attempts on his life had dwindled in recent years. If they hadn't, Marianne would've protested Charles pushing Lelouch into the spotlight.
Her son's safety was her absolute priority. Admittedly, he didn't make it easy with his tendency to accidentally stumble into dangerous situations.
She could only hope Nunnally wouldn't take after her brother in that regard.
Pondering what-ifs was an exercise in agony. They only drove home her failure.
Marianne pursed her lips. Reuben fearing her reaction didn't sit quite right. He would've taken the opportunity to lecture her or ask her to self-reflect.
Perhaps it was the girl's age? He detested the military recruiting in his school almost as much as the propaganda drivel of a history textbook Schneizel forced on him.
She had heard plenty of complaints from Nunnally over the years. Some of which forced her to confirm her daughter wasn't playing an elaborate prank on her.
"I have Statdfeld's simulator recording," Bismarck interrupted, passing a tablet to her. "She froze at the end, prematurely ending the simulation."
And her score had still been so high?
Reclining, Marianne watched the recording and the technical readouts on the right. The girl's response rate was unnaturally high, and the calculated sync-rate occasionally jumped into the high eighties.
While impressive, it wasn't what caught her eye.
No. It was how the girl ruthlessly tore into her opponents. Pure instinct drove her as she engaged in close range combat.
The Horus was certainly an appropriate knightmare for her, with its smaller frame that allowed the pilot to get up-close and personal.
Then... the girl froze.
The only reason Marianne could discern was that the timer had changed its color. Why that ended the girl's rampage, she didn't know.
"She's good," Marianne said. "No wonder Reuben wants to guard her. He says I have a habit of scaring off his test pilots."
"You do," Bismarck said, looking through the recording again. "Her style is similar to yours. Do you think she has potential?"
"I won't know without seeing her spar in the field. The simulators won't reveal the true extent of her skills."
Charles's warm hand settled on her shoulder as he stopped besides her. "Found someone interesting?"
"A fresh ace and probably the reason Reuben is being so cagey lately. He doesn't want me to scare her or something." Nodding at the training field, she continued, "Their training is going well. They were building bad habits by depending on their superior knightmare specs."
"You set them straight?"
"Of course, dear. None of them dare to slack off under my watch." She smirked. "They're being rather competitive in preparation of the ranks shifting when you appoint a new Knight of the Round."
"How was the Weinberg boy? I heard he destroyed Bradley's lance."
Marianne chuckled. "Bradley was causing too much trouble, so Fadiman and Weinberg engineered a little sparring accident which would require us to return. An audacious plan. Weinberg needs more varied experience. He's too used to fighting multiple weaker opponents instead of a single unit with comparable skill. I'm looking forward to sparring with him again. He has a good attitude, even in defeat."
"If you want to spar with him again, he must be good." Charles took a seat beside her. "Fadiman? Lelouch's second, right? How was he?"
"I gave you my report," Marianne grumbled.
"Lost in a sea of paperwork." Charles waved his hand. "I want your assessment. My agent is nowhere near as objective as he should be."
Of course he wasn't.
Henry was their friend, which clouded his judgement. Lelouch regularly shook his loyalty enough that he forgot to report minor infractions. Charles found the constant tug and pull on Henry's loyalty infuriating.
Henry's reports were especially sparse on Lelouch's friends. Probably because he knew they would be judged more harshly than Lelouch. Fadiman was frequently noted for being obstinate, but she hadn't thought much of him until her visit.
"If Lelouch doesn't knight Fadiman, I will. He won't reach his full potential as a simple commoner, and I'm not going to let his talent go to waste," she said. "I really didn't expect him to retaliate against Bradley."
Unimpressed, Charles said, "An attack on the Knights of the Round is an attack on my person.".
Marianne snorted. "He has a spine buried beneath his instinctive subservience. If you wanted a mindless drone, you would use your Geass. Besides, he made sure to arrange the incident as to have plausible deniability. Lelouch taught him well."
Out of all her son's friends, he was the only one Henry noted for challenging Lelouch's ideas. Henry's disapproval saturated the reports. If it was up to him, they would all follow Lelouch's orders without question, unless his safety was in jeopardy.
Reigning in her son was near impossible, but Fadiman could. Yet, he seemed entirely oblivious to the impressive influence he wielded over Lelouch.
"His character?" Charles asked, accepting a cup of tea from a passing servant.
"He's from a proper Britannian family which has served the Empire for decades. He's almost everything you would expect. More loyal to his comrades than his family though, which is unusual. He also respects the Numbers, but I suspect that comes more from his loyalty to Lelouch." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "He lied to me again."
"Again?" Charles growled.
Marianne rolled her eyes. "More of a misdirection. The first time was with the Count, and he was trying to protect Lelouch from defection charges. This time, he merely attempted to shoulder the blame for some of Lelouch's action."
"If it was anyone but your-" Charles sighed at her glare. "-our son, that would disqualify him from knighthood. His loyalty should first be to the Empire, not some random commander."
"But Lelouch isn't some random commander, dear." She leaned over and snatched the pastry out of his hand. "Remember the doctor's orders."
"Marianne," he hissed.
Unabashed, she grinned. "Try some fruit instead."
Charles scowled, but ate a strawberry. "The point still stands. Fadiman doesn't know the truth, so his loyalty should first be to the Empire. Anything less is treasonous."
"The entire division's loyalty belongs to Lelouch." Marianne crossed her arms. "Fadiman is more loyal to the Empire than the rest of them."
"If Lelouch had aspirations for the throne, I would be worried about a possible coup," he grumbled.
Defensively, she said, "You don't worry about Cornelia. Her troops are quite loyal, and she's not lacking in ambition. She'll probably fall behind Schneizel, but if he were to die, she would make an earnest attempt herself."
Her son had done nothing to call his loyalty into question. He had stood against the Count despite everything. His unconventional methods, while often running counter to Britannian ideals, served the Empire in the long run.
"Cornelia isn't a politician," Charles said. "She's always been forthright and unrelenting in her beliefs. Making compromises is not in her nature which makes her an excellent general, but a terrible ruler. Lelouch has been running around making deals since he was fourteen. In two months, he has done more to improve our foreign relationships than Schneizel has in three years. Admittedly, mostly due to a lack of effort on Schneizel's part."
Marianne leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "Charles. He's supposed to be taking it easy."
"The last time you recruited Reuben into ensuring he would take a proper vacation, Lelouch ended up working as a line cook." Charles pinched his nose. "Not to mention his proclivity to find trouble. At least in Australia, the chances of him involving himself with the mafia is fairly low. Your son-"
Marianne cleared her throat. At his glare, she grinned angelically.
"He gets it from you. None of my other children have ever caused such a headache."
"I remember a fair amount of ranting about Schneizel," Marianne teased. "And about Odysseus... And remember when they recruited Cornelia's help?"
His face soured.
Infiltrating the Geass order and observing the various human experiments sickened her.
But watching Charles get completely flustered now that he actually had to pay attention to one of his children? That was endlessly amusing.
"Nevertheless," he said, "Lelouch is more likely to stay out of trouble if kept busy. Guinevere and Schneizel have taken upon themselves to address the gaps in his education. His presence also confounds the E.U. delegates. The E.U. President apparently had a cabinet meeting discussing the possibility of supplanting his loyalty. Unfortunately, General Smilas's report shut that down. He is terribly wary of you, Marianne."
His spies had been busy. Normally, they wouldn't risk their cover sending such inconsequential information, which meant Charles requested it. He was more invested in her son's well being than he dared to admit.
She smirked. "For good reason. We have a reputation after all."
"The Breisgau girl missed the memo. She's basically putty in Lelouch's hands."
"She's young." Marianne shrugged.
"She's the same age as Lelouch," Charles remarked. "He knows to mask his emotions."
"If he was older, he would leverage her infatuation."
At first, she thought his hesitation was because of his own feelings. After numerous conversations, she concluded Lelouch didn't suffer from such weakness. No. It was worse. He was completely unaware of Breisgau's feelings. And despite Marianne's best efforts, she had failed to clue him in.
"Either he is playing me for a fool, or he is terribly dense," she said.
"You can interrogate him at the banquet in person. Do remind him to refrain from vulgar jokes when people are annoying him."
Marianne snorted, remembering the incident when the Sumeragi girl had finally pushed him too far with her teasing. Lelouch retaliated by describing explicit acts in excruciating detail as everyone nearby looked on in horror.
At Charles's terribly aggrieved look, she had burst into laughter, effectively distracting the court, while he went to reprimand his errant son.
Really, what had he expected allowing Lelouch to stay in the army? Walls were a luxury there.
"I'm sure he's learned his lesson," she said. "Not getting to spend time with his sister because you ordered him to help with accounting was a sufficient punishment."
"And then he turned around and used it for his own benefit." Charles shook his head. "Schneizel said something strange. Did Lelouch ever ask for his stipend to be increased?"
Suddenly, her son's frequent gambling endeavors made a lot more sense.
"Charles..." Marianne sighed. "Unless absolutely necessary, he isn't going to ask you for anything. It's a matter of pride."
He fell silent, observing the knightmares going through increasingly complicated maneuvers. "Well, if I suddenly increase it, Schneizel will twist it around to make Lelouch owe him a favor. Does he even need it? He is doing well enough on his own."
Marianne leaned over, grabbing his hand. "Don't be stingy, dear."
His eyes narrowed. "If I don't fix this, I'm going to regret this, am I not?"
Grinning, she pulled away. "There's a wonderful new French television series I'd love to watch. The soundtrack is exceptionally catchy."
"Don't be petty."
"You started it." She thrust out her chin. "I'm merely winning."
Leaning forward, he caught her hands and whispered into her ear, "Are you sure?"
Worldbuilding Thoughts:
- Comparing a map of what Britannia's borders are at the moment (slightly behind canon due to the invasion of Japan being delayed by a year) with important natural resources and shipping routes, sort of paints a bleak picture for the E.U. and Chinese Federation. Britannia controls a lot of important stuff and can exert a lot of pressure over the seas.
- The Knights of the Round in R2 were sort of a let down. Yes, Suzaku and Kallen are beasts with overpowered knightmares, but the Rounds are supposed to be the best of the nation. It would have been much more satisfying for them to be on more equal ground where strategy and experience actually played a role. Because of this, Marianne is whipping them back into shape.
- When the knights bow in the anime, they cross their chest with their left hand and put the right one behind them. Historically, a lot of European formalities are based on the right hand being visible and not having a weapon. The right hand behind the back makes it look they're all going to assassinate their liege. Ironically, Akito actually has Suzaku use a proper bow. I haven't been able to track down clips from the recap movie to see if that's true there as well.
Author's Note:
Somewhat early update? Somebody asked me to, and I felt generous.
Lelouch's scene was a lot of fun for me personally. Lots of fun little details I appreciate. Like how afternoon tea works. I love writing politics, but I'm also aware this scene may have been a little dry? I might be slightly too proud about how the dialogue came out.
Did anyone have a favorite line?
Next update won't be until after Christmas unfortunately. Therefore, I hope everyone enjoys the holidays! (I can't believe 2020 is almost over. What a year.)
As always, I can never have enough reviews. They make my week. What would really make my holidays though would be to see some more Code Geass fanfics. :)
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj
Thank you x1tears1X and Spaded Ace18 for your help with betaing.