Recap: Arthur Greenford has become suspicious of Frederick Oberstein's activities (especially his interest in antiquities and fairytales) and also continues to scheme to make Guinevere the Empress, with his nephew as the Emperor Consort. Roy has too many things to think about after Empress Marianne's visit, not to mention a wedding to plan. Nunnally, meanwhile, is intent on getting revenge for the death of Mr. Cameron, even if that means playing in an underground chess ring.
Chapter 12: Reckoning
While Britannia had a strict class hierarchy, certain avenues allowed commoners to accumulate wealth and influence on par with nobles. One common way was through entertainment as artists often sought patronage. Actors and singers, while disproportionately represented by nobles, were one of the few people who, given sufficient fame, were invited to cross class boundaries. Coupled with the rise of the entertainer was the reporter. Large Britannian media outlets were frequently state-run which created potential conflicts of interest in employing other nobles. As a result, commoners quickly rose through the ranks, earning general disdain from other nobles. While they didn't have the ability to flaunt influence publicly, a skilled reporter worked in the shadows, dealing favors to tip the scales in a noble's favor. Unlike actors, reporters were often assassinated; their best defense was anonymity. Lastly, there were a select few family run businesses which could thrive when skilled in the art of politics.
These families formed the upper class among the commoners—often having more influence than minor nobles—but their position was tenuous, subject to the whims of the state and other nobles. To be a commoner intruding on the nobles' playground often led to unfortunate accidents or assassinations. Meanwhile, Britannian rulers were leery of what they saw as fertile ground for a revolution. As a result, the government often took preemptive action against families deemed "at risk." So while their wealth afforded them great luxury, these families dealt with great uncertainty and developed strategies to compensate. Close relatives and younger siblings were often married to minor nobles to protect the family. They also engaged in extreme displays of patriotism—building grand statues, making massive government donations, and frequently enlisting. Where the working class was outspoken, and even vocal about their disdain in private, wealthy families never dared to utter a word of criticism. But as their power grew and unrest within Britannia spread, the culture of silence began to change.
Following Emperor Charles' decision to arrest numerous nobles in October 2012, well situated commoner businesses capitalized on the opportunity to cement their position in the market. Zero's rise to prominence in the following years coupled with restrictive legislation effectively curtailed nobles' power and indirectly protected these fledgling superpowers. Two companies of note are Sumeragi Industries and Fadiman & Jenkins, both of which curiously had strong ties with Lelouch vi Britannia early on. The changing political climate brought much fortune, but also strife as nobles, feeling increasingly threatened, took coordinated offensive actions...
—The Rise of the Common Folk
Sydney, Australia
Arthur Greenford leaned back in his chair and studied the portrait of the Emperor hanging on the opposite wall. Even when depicted in oils, the Emperor radiated power and an implicit threat. Most concerning were the hard purple eyes which held no mercy. Once, long ago during the height of the Emblem of Blood, the Emperor had worn a different mask. He would charm allies to his cause then. A few clandestine meetings and the nobles would suddenly sing a different tune.
He had been subtle once. Maybe, he still was, his subtlety now hidden by a grandiose display of power.
Because Arthur's friend, Frederick, was right. Prince Lelouch was someone to keep an eye on. The sudden return of the Breisgau heir proved that. She followed her little crush, falling into his trap. And while the terms of the treaty clearly didn't favor Britannia, Arthur remembered having similar thoughts throughout the years, only to be proven wrong time again and again.
The Emperor's patience with Prince Schneizel and Princess Guinevere had come to an end, so he sent his precious son to do his bidding. A task which Prince Lelouch had completed without anyone realizing his intentions until he was done.
Yes, Frederick had been right to be wary, and Arthur the fool to think Prince Lelouch wouldn't follow his mother's footsteps in trying to rise above his station. He could even be successful.
Arthur's eyes flicked to the door then to the contract lying on his desk. There was another child he had underestimated, an associate of Prince Lelouch's—Miss Sumeragi. She had entered his office with a wide smile and a pile of evidence finding the Purists responsible for backing an Eleven terrorist. Arthur had thought he had been discreet, but the girl continued to smile despite her now extended fangs and proved him wrong.
If only the assassins he and others sent after her had succeeded. Then, they wouldn't be in this mess, with an Eleven prancing around in high society.
The butler opened the door, and Princess Guinevere walked through, her gaze sweeping over the office in distaste. She raised her hand, stalling his attempt to rise, and sank into the armchair. "I'll be returning to the mainland at the end of the week."
"Congratulations," Arthur said, relieved. She hadn't earned the Emperor's contempt like Schneizel, who wasn't allowed to return. "I was surprised to hear your brother already returned."
"Yes." She frowned and folded her hands together. "At least we do not have to worry that he will join Schneizel's side. My brother is most displeased with him."
"But if the Emperor favors him... We have another problem. Sumeragi is his ally."
"A reason to recruit him." She inclined her head. "The girl has connections to Empress Tianzi, which will help our bid. And being such an airhead, she will be easy to manipulate."
Arthur pursed his lips. "Unfortunately, much like your brother, she has hidden depths."
"Do tell."
"She found evidence of some of our... plotting." He wasn't enough of a fool to say anything potentially treasonous out loud, but Princess Guinevere's eyebrows raised, and she leaned backwards, a concerned frown crossing her face. "The Purist Party will have to curtail some of our legislation and agree to some less-beneficial business arrangements to appease her."
"Why not remove her permanently?"
"If the Emperor wants her alive, our assassins will continue to have limited success." Arthur pushed the contract aside. "If she knows, we must assume that Prince Lelouch does as well. They were practically clinging to each other during the banquet."
"Yes, he only left her side willingly to rescue his girlfriend," Princess Guinevere murmured. She pinned him with a stern glare. "If he knows, Father will as well."
Arthur's chest tightened. Funding terrorists was not something the Emperor would likely forgive. "Are you sure?"
Princess Guinevere leaned back, closing her eyes. "I do not know. His relationship with Father merely appears tenuous. Of all his children, Lelouch is the only one he takes interest in. My brother would not have been able to pull off the treaty without Father's support. Securing Lelouch's backing would be a tremendous boon. Making him our enemy will lead to Marianne's ire. While I may despise her... she knows how to make a nuisance of herself, and Father follows her lead."
"So we need the support of the Commoner's brat," he grumbled. "And what do we do if the Emperor already knows of our indiscretion?"
"We beg for forgiveness, and I take responsibility. The worst which will happen to me is house arrest like Antonious, but the party will continue to survive which gives us a fighting chance. Eliminating the source of the problem would be best." Princess Guinevere lifted her hand to hide her smirk. "If we crush Sumeragi, the fallout will impact Lelouch as well. We eliminate his potential supporters, and he will be forced to side with us, which will shield us from Father's attention."
The beginning of a plan was taking shape. Prince Lelouch and Sumeragi were the types of threats hard to target, but they relied on those around them to give them power. In a few years, Prince Lelouch would be a deadly and unstoppable foe. Perhaps even on par with Schneizel. Or worse, the Emperor. The only time to stop him was now.
But... there was an easier way.
"Accidents do happen," Arthur said, his eyes meeting Princess Guinevere. "Planning for an unfortunate tragedy is common."
Her eyes narrowed. "No."
"He is still a commoner."
"I said no," she hissed. "Eliminate Sumeragi if you can, but all of my siblings are off-limit. Do you understand?"
"Of course, Your Highness," he acquiesced. She was young, naive, and foolish. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. There was no path to the throne without bloodshed and eliminating an impure competitor wouldn't sully his conscience. He would be doing Britannia a favor. A commoner should never be allowed the opportunity to sit on the throne.
Princess Guinevere nodded. "Good. Assure the girl mutual destruction if our plans become known. There must be countless roaches swarming her holdings; she employs Elevens after all. Lelouch won't risk telling Father if it strips him of the only ally he has."
"I will do some digging," Arthur promised.
Once she finally left, he ordered his butler to pour him a drink and drained it in one large gulp. Exhaling, he slammed the glass on the desk and glared at the portrait of the Emperor. A hideous thing. His nephew's visage would be much more amenable, but propriety demanded that he keep up the display of public worship. Especially after the Emperor had begun cracking down on the nobles.
His fingers clenched around the cool glass. Zero, another thorn in his side. Without him, the Purists wouldn't have declined so harshly. Once, they had lived without fear of reprisal from the common folk. But Zero had become the common folk's weapon. He and Odysseus were so sensitive, constantly taking issue with nobles seizing what was rightfully theirs.
The commoners had been born such for a reason. They had no right to rise up and demand justice. At least, he could begrudgingly acknowledge that Marianne had strengths in spade. But these folks? They had no power, instead relying on Zero's benevolence to save them.
A soft knock on the door roused him from his thoughts. "Come in."
The butler opened the door, nodding discreetly and letting the plainly dressed assassin in.
"My lord." He genuflected and rose without a hint of hesitation. In three quick strides, he crossed the room and deposited a packet on the desk. "All of Lord Ashford's associates. Three are outside Area Eleven at the moment and vulnerable."
Arthur pursed his lips and flipped open the file. At least this was a problem tackled more easily. "An Eleven?"
"A partial. Lord Stadtfeld married an Eleven before the war. He has an unacknowledged son who masquerades as a commoner."
"But his daughter still bears the family name..." His eyes narrowed. "And she's an ace."
"Yes—"
Arthur waved his hand, reading through the rest of the file. Lord Stadtfeld had slowly been making his way through the East Coast, officially entertaining marriage proposals for his daughter, unofficially negotiating with commoner businesses—a shrewd move which Arthur could only imagine Lord Ashford behind. That man was a continuous thorn in his side. And now he had another ace in his pocket. Not content with having raised a commoner wench, he was now elevating a half-breed.
Despicable.
"Eliminate her," Arthur ordered. A shame, really; aces were rare. His eye landed on the stolen itinerary. Lord Ashford was playing with fire, elevating their sort. "Target them during the meeting. Commoners and Numbers should know better to mingle with nobility."
New York, Homeland
The Fadiman & Jenkins company building was clearly visible from the apartment window, and Roy, his neck prickling, closed the blinds. Visiting Selena should have allowed him to escape the omnipresent weight of accountability that clung to him in the division. But he was being watched, Empress Marianne had basically confirmed it. Their apartment was possibly bugged. Snipers, scopes trained on them, could be sitting on little perches behind distant darkened windows. Their neighbors who had asked them to mind the noise the night before could be OSI agents waiting for orders.
"You're so tense," Selena said, hand running down his back. "Worried about picking up your friend?"
Roy snorted and reflexively checked his phone. No new messages. "Talking with him again will make my life significantly easier. It looks like Henry will be delayed though. Some kind of family emergency."
"I'm looking forward to it. Finally a chance to peel back some of your life's mysterious secrets." She kissed his cheek and pulled away to resume reviewing various fashion designs for work. Princess Guinevere had begun a new trend at a treaty signing, leaving everyone else scrambling. "You sure we shouldn't go out for dinner?"
"We have enough food," Roy said. He glanced at the kitchen where light gleamed off the stainless steel counters. The blinds, once again, opened. He hadn't found any bugs, and their own security devices appeared untampered, but his paranoia didn't cease. "Did you open the blinds again?"
"What? Were you in Antarctica? Some light isn't going to kill you, Roy." She shook her head, pressed a button on the remote, and the blinds before him rolled upwards again. His family's building stared at him, accusingly. "I swear it's like you want to live in a hovel."
And there was the second problem. Roy couldn't tell Selena, or his family, anything. They knew he had been deployed to a Number Division, but the trail ended there. His job, his responsibility, and achievements remained a secret. After the Count's defeat, they had all been ordered to sign non-disclosure agreements. And then another one covering the contents of the previous. Zero's identity was one of the Empire's best kept secrets, and Roy would never endanger Lelouch by inadvertently letting something leak. Zero had made too many enemies among the nobility for investigating their crimes and among the E.U. for capturing their agents.
Yet, keeping such a large portion of his life a secret strained his relationships.
"I don't fancy having my parents looking out their window and watching us," Roy lied. His parents didn't actually live on the top floors, having leased it out to some noble's third son. Privately, they complained incessantly about his loud, weekly, midnight parties but never dared to reprimand the noble.
"The windows are tinted," Selena dismissed. "Is the reason you've barely left the apartment because you don't want them to know you're back yet? Because that's ridiculous. I know they're not thrilled about us marrying with my family's financial struggles... But the worst they can do is give us a stern talking to."
"There are some things we need to talk about, and I need backup for that." Roy hesitantly turned his back to the window and began rummaging through the kitchen. Lelouch was going to be stressed.
"Backup?" She laughed. "Fine. What about take-out? If we're hosting your friend, the least we can do is treat him to the pleasures of New York City? There's a great new pizza place on sixty-six."
"Lelouch is an excellent cook. If you want pizza, we should pick up some tomato sauce though."
"He's our guest. You're not making him cook."
"The harder part would be stopping him." Roy straightened. "Maybe we should get some yeast as well. And you're running low on flour."
Selena clapped her binder shut, and he froze, hearing her cross the floor. "Roy? You've been on edge since getting here. Let us go out and have some fun. Or are you getting cold feet?"
"No. I love you." He grabbed her hands and pulled her close, enveloping her in a hug. "It's just... work stuff. It has nothing to do with you."
"We're a team. Let me help you."
"I can't," he whispered.
She drew back, green eyes narrowed. "Can't or won't?"
He swallowed. "I don't know."
Her lips thinned in displeasure. "Ever since the Count was defeated, and you sent a form letter assuring us you were alright, you've been shutting everyone out. Your freeform letters read like form letters with how much information there is in them about you. And yes, I love that you're always willing to listen and ask about my life. But I want to know you as well. We're getting married in a week, and sometimes I feel like I barely know you. Just tell me the truth."
Truth...
Roy turned on the faucet. The water gushed into the sink and the dishes rattled underneath its onslaught. "Selena... I don't know what I'm allowed to say."
Her eyes flicked to the sink, and she whispered, "Did you fall into some kind of black-ops unit?"
"Not exactly."
"You have to get out," she hissed. "Your parents have been wanting you to transfer for ages. Use their connections."
"I don't want to," he admitted. Although, if Empress Marianne had her way that decision would no longer be his.
"Is it worth your life? What will happen when they want to clean up loose ends? You're not a noble, Roy. Disappearing you is a minor inconvenience at best."
Hunched over the sink, Roy closed his eyes and listened to the water. "It's much too late for that now." He knew Lelouch was Zero which others would kill to learn. "I'm... competent. They knew about our last trip to the beach."
Her hands trembled as she turned off the faucet. "We should head out."
He nodded mutely. Both of them got ready, a somber silence between them. He wished Selena would say something, but for the same reasons he couldn't share information, she couldn't divulge her feelings. They were being watched, and every word could be used against them.
"I'm driving," Selena announced, snatching the keys from his hands.
"I can drive," he protested.
She glared at him. "I like my car. You only got your license because of your family name.
"Did not," he protested weakly. "I've never actually hit anything."
"Because you stop a micron short." She slipped on her thin jacket. In the elevator, she asked, "So what is your friend like? If I'm meeting him, you can at least tell me that."
"Either people despise him, or they love him with not much in-between. I hated him the first time we met. He kept pissing off the Drill Sergeant and didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. He still struggles with that actually."
The car beeped in the parking garage.
"Funny, given that your lips are sealed more often than not."
"He'd just lie," Roy said, slipping into the passenger seat. "He didn't tell his sister he was deployed. She was furious when she found out."
"Charming," she said dryly. "So don't believe anything he says?"
"Ask him how he is, he'll tell you he's fine. Or if he's eaten. Or if he slept." Roy shrugged as they exited the dark garage. "He tells the truth most of the time but dodges the real question. Sometimes, he's too honest in speaking his mind."
Frowning, Selena turned on the radio. "Sounds like a dangerous friend to have."
That was true. Without Lelouch, Roy would be following the path his parents had imagined. He would never have caught the attention of Empress Marianne, nor have his privacy so casually invaded. But those aspects had more to do with Lelouch's genius sweeping everyone else in as collateral than his friend's mouth.
"Maybe, but I'd rather have him by my side than not."
"What about your other friends? I don't need specifics."
"There's Alex. He's more insightful than he lets on." And an OSI agent, which Roy could definitely not share. Why were two of his friends so dangerous to know? "He calls me out occasionally. He's usually right."
"You don't sound happy about that. Did he point out that buttering both sides of your toast is utterly stupid?"
"No, he called me love-sick before I left." Roy chuckled and then grew silent, remembering the rest of the conversation. "He also told me I was too harsh on... another soldier."
She laughed. "Roy, you're harsh on everyone. Back when we were kids and had our regular tutoring session, I thought you were the most stuck-up person I ever had the displeasure of meeting. You were incessentaly parroting your parents."
"Thanks," he mumbled, looking away. "It's just... this other soldier. He did something I can't forgive. Alex told me I was letting it negatively impact my decisions."
"Like what?"
"Someone got stabbed because he's usually the one to distract murder boy when he visits."
"Murder boy?"
"Don't ask." Roy pinched his nose. Apparently, if Lelouch wasn't recklessly shouting at a Knight of the Round, he sent Art to distract Bradley. Art, who had stared death into the eye and accepted it, disturbed Bradley and his obsession that people valued their life most of all. "He's too powerful to do anything against, so we all have to bear his presence occasionally."
"So Alex was upset that someone got stabbed?" Selena asked
"No. He said I did something only because that soldier disliked it." Roy had thought Alex would be thrilled to finally have vacation, and he had been, but also strangely disappointed. "It was the right decision but for the wrong reasons."
"Are you sure you can't forgive him? Because sometimes you hold grudges over the silliest things. Like the time that seagull stole your hotdog."
"The greedy sucker stole it out of my hand. My hand! I was just about to eat it."
She gave him a long look. "And you glaring at every seagull for the last—what is it now?—eight years is a stupid over reaction."
"Yes, but... This is different." Art was a terrorist, not a seagull. He had been fully aware of his actions and deliberated them beforehand. Had it not been for him deciding to capture Lelouch, they would all be dead. "The worst part is Lelouch forgives him and trusts him."
"Have you asked him why?"
"No." In response to her disapproving glance, he added, "It's a difficult subject which he avoids... for understandable reasons, but that makes it almost impossible to discuss it with him." How was Roy supposed to ask what happened during torture? Especially when Lelouch refused to acknowledge it as such. Still, he could feel Selena judging him. He sighed. "I'll try."
The car jolted, brakes squealing. The seatbelt dug into Roy's shoulder. He winced and assessed his surroundings. Ahead, a car had hit a cyclist. Ignoring Selena's shouts, Roy jumped outside and hurried over. With heavy traffic, they had fortunately been traveling at a low velocity. Hopefully, no one was seriously injured. Damn, he hadn't thought to confirm there was a first-aid kit in the car. A few days away, and he was already getting sloppy.
"Everything, alright?" he shouted, approaching the downed cyclist who was thankfully moving.
"Damn Fives, not watching their way," spat the driver. Inside his car, a woman comforted three children and whispered reassurances. The driver angrily gestured to the small dent. "Who the hell is going to pay for that? You imbecile."
"Hey," Roy said, stepping in front of the cyclist. Up close, he could see the leg bent at an unnatural angle. "Everyone calm down. I'm sure it was just an accident."
The cyclist clutched his leg, face contorted in pain, but managed to find the energy to say, "I didn't do anything. Was minding my business and deliveries, and you hit me."
"You drove into my car!" the driver shouted.
Roy glanced around, traffic already continuing around them. A passing car drove over an overturned box of pizza, taking with it the man's livelihood. A few onlookers sneered. Regardless of what actually happened, they would support the driver's story.
Kneeling next to the cyclist, Roy collected his belongings. "Do you have someplace to receive medical attention?"
"Hey," the driver shouted, and Roy stood firmly between him and the cyclist. "Let me through. Either the Five will pay up, or I'll take my worth out of his hide."
"Mister, this was a minor traffic accident. There's no need to raise a fuss. You and your family are fine. This man needs medical attention. He did get hit by a car," Roy said calmly.
"You mocking me? What are you, some Number sympathizer?"
The cyclist hissed and aborted his futile efforts to stand. "Please, sir. I'm sorry. So sorry. I should've watched where I was going. Am so sorry. Whatever you need. What's mine is yours."
The driver smiled. "Well, it seems you know your place now. Let's see what you have."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Of course, sir. It's my pleasure."
Roy extended his arm, blocking the man from taking another step. "Funnily enough, I saw you hit the cyclist. Perhaps it's you who owes him compensation."
"Oh, the Five's got a fancy knight in white armor," the driver spat. "Who the hell do you think you are, interfering? Get out of the way boy."
"Touch me again, and I'll show you exactly what a member of the Imperial Army is capable of," Roy hissed and stepped forward. The man stumbled back. He wasn't even a noble, just some petty man who thought he could swindle a Number. Compared to Empress Marianne, he didn't even register as a potential threat. "Your car barely has a scratch on it. A new coat of paint, and it'll be good as new." He pulled out his wallet, counting the bills slowly. "But before I do that, you're going to apologize to this man."
Selena approached, her eyes darting each way, and she urgently grabbed his arm, hissing, "Roy."
Roy shook her off, smirking at the man. "Or... I continue to stand here. Either you hit me, and we all know how that'll end, or you turn around and return home with nothing."
"Sorry," the driver spat, holding out his hand, and Roy handed over the cash. It was the best he was going to get. "Still a piece of idiotic filth."
Lips pressed together, Roy knelt by the cyclist who was now watching him with frantic eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as various heads ducked in and out of the alleyway. "Friends of yours?"
The cyclist shook his head, but seemed to have calmed. So yes.
Pulling out the remainder of his cash, Roy tucked it into the man's backpack. "You need to get that leg looked at."
Selena pulled on his arm roughly, and Roy let himself be tugged away. The moment they entered the car, a small crowd of people rushed forward to help. They greeted the man warmly and helped him limp away, all the while glaring at Roy suspiciously.
Their car merged back into traffic, various Britannian drivers flipping them off.
"Roy, what the hell? It was just scamming you," Selena said.
"Because he needed help." Roy crossed his arms. His actions weren't something his younger self would've ever considered. No, that Roy would've stood by the driver's side if anything, regardless of evidence. "I invited Pablo to the wedding. Don't call my friends 'it'."
"A Number? Are you insane? What will it do? What will our guests think? At least tell me he's a Two? A Three?"
"A Six, and he agreed already to stay in the back. I'm not looking to make a scene with my parents." Roy watched her through the reflection of the window. Her hands clenched the steering wheel. "He's a good friend and deserves to be there if he wants. The others would rather spend leave with their family."
"A Number friend?" She scoffed. "So you're still in the Number Division? Is that the real reason why you won't say anything? I never thought that the army would radicalize you. What's next? Equality?"
Yes—No—that was an answer which bordered treason.
"Don't worry, I'm not foolish enough to run off and join the French." Although that had been a plan discussed in hushed voices should Lelouch's luck turn sour, and he needed to escape. Roy already knew which of his family's freighters were the easiest to stow away on. "You didn't see what I saw in Area Two. Our commander was actively trying to kill us. He had no concern for human life. Numbers, Honorary Britannians, foreigners. We're all people."
"Fine, you had a bad apple. Not every noble is good, but we need them. Our society would fall into chaos if everyone was equal. And we're not. I could never do a noble's job. They're different. They deserve it. The Numbers aren't like us, Britannians. The best they can hope for is to do menial jobs and integrate. The worthy ones will eventually rise to the top."
"In a hundred generations? And that commander wouldn't have risen to power if the system didn't let him. Instead of doing their jobs, they were all too focused on short term personal gains and leveraging their authority over troops who couldn't fight back."
"You like your current commander, right? So the system works, momentary glitches aside."
But Lelouch wasn't a noble—or was he? Roy wanted to say he would have learned to trust him even if he was a Number; that was a lie. He would never have given Lelouch the chance. The only reason why he reached out to the Numbers was because Lelouch had done it first. It had taken him too long to see them as people worthy of respect and dignity.
"I think my current commander is the exception, not the previous one. Selena, I fought alongside the Numbers, and Britannia is... wrong."
The unthinkable phrase settled in the car. Surprised, Selena jerked the wheel, but she didn't say anything. To agree was toeing the line of treasonous thought. To run a successful business meant breathing Britannian ideology, or to find oneself disappeared. And Roy had just uttered the phrase in a potentially bugged car.
Shit.
"But you're right," Roy said quickly, running damage control. "It's probably just one isolated system. Not representative of the whole."
"You've changed, Roy," she whispered. "You used to be Britannia's most ardent defender, and now you're questioning her. They're just Numbers. Why risk yourself for them? There's no need to have a Six at the party. It's dangerous."
"I'm not going to let myself be frightened by social consequences. Just... Please keep this to yourself. It's one of the few things that pisses Lelouch off. He would've torn the man to shred with words, gotten him arrested, and then somehow pin tax fraud on him."
Selena fell momentarily quiet, looking at him in disbelief. "So that's where you get it? Some kid who woke up one day and decided to go against one of Britannia's fundamental principles?"
Thinking of Gino, Roy said, "There's an officer with similar beliefs. He fell in love with a servant girl, a Number, and his family kicked her out. So he ran away to become a knightmare pilot."
"Your friend is a skirt chaser?"
"Ah, definitely not." Roy rubbed the back of his head. Lelouch's acceptance of Numbers had always been an unquestionable part of him. But it was unusual, and a question Roy never seriously considered. "Pablo has been very unsuccessful in getting Lelouch laid. I really don't know why."
"A family of radicals," she said dismissively. "You shouldn't associate with such dangerous folks. They only stir up trouble because they're at the bottom and don't know better."
Roy sighed. "Look, Lelouch... I wouldn't insult his family. Whoever they are, they're quite important and staunchly Britannian, reading choices aside. Both of his parents are in the military."
"Who?"
That was the question. And a list growing ever smaller as Roy went through various noble families crossing each one off based on various things he knew of Lelouch's family. He had begun with Lord Ashford's allies. Lelouch was too close to him for it to be a simple chance like he claimed. Various nobles were crossed off for a lack of any military involvement. While Roy was tempted to cross off others for not having large enough families, he wasn't sure how loosely Lelouch was applying the term extended family.
"His father is an important noble and a right bastard," Roy whispered. "Lelouch enlisted to get away from his family. He burnt his mother's letters for months before his father ordered him to reply. And then they were the most passive-aggressive letters you ever read. Believing in Britannia is difficult when your sister is blind."
Selena didn't say anything, her attention staunchly focused on the road. Anything further would lead to a heated argument which neither of them wanted. He wanted to reach across and show her the truth. They had grown up in the same circles. Read the same books. Interacted in the same social group. But Roy was the one who had left and became more of a stranger every time he returned. The rest of them had simply continued their lives, unchanged.
He leaned against the window, breathing deeply and listening to the radio. Already, he missed the division; it had been a mere few days. Lelouch must have gone stir-crazy staying away for three months. And unlike Roy, he wasn't in a supportive environment.
A blond strand of hair gently fluttered from the air conditioning. He wanted to reach out, wrap it around his hands, and breath in her scent. He loved her, yet there was a growing chasm between them, brought on by him questioning the world. But to willfully close his eyes was worse.
"Wait," Roy said, startled by the news, "why is Larketh's stock down? That's William's family, right? They were doing well last quarter."
"Oil," Selena said grimly. "Britannia announced yesterday that they were going to be importing oil from the MEF. They say Zero is in Venezuela. My family is fortunate that most of our production line relies on natural gas. As long as Area Seven doesn't go up in flames, we should be able to weather the coming storm. We are arguing whether it's a temporary measure, or if we should move in on the market. "
"Don't," Roy said sharply. Zero was most certainly not in Venezuela. He never had been. It was a simple rumor at Lelouch's bequest. This was more than mere market uncertainty which Roy had suspected. Britannia's oil productions weren't down. To claim otherwise was... bewildering.
What the hell was Lelouch doing on his family vacation?
"Why shouldn't we invest?" Selena asked, staring at him intently.
He swallowed. "I can't answer that. Just... don't. Was there any other news?"
She frowned and took a right onto the airport short-term parking lot. "It was at the big treaty signing in Australia. Outside of Princess Guinevere's decorative decisions and fashion choices, not much of interest happened. Well, Prince Clovis has a new girlfriend, but that isn't very surprising. Actually... Empress Marianne surprised everyone by coming. Normally, she doesn't attend events without the Emperor. I guess she was there because of her son."
"Her son?"
He had followed her career in his youth, enamored by the possibilities she represented. She proudly advertised her military achievements, but personal details were always scarce. The other Empresses often let small irrelevant tidbits slip and boasted about their children; Empress Marianne never did.
"Prince Lelouch... How do you not know that? Your friend is literally named after him. The number of magazines speculating on him is insane. He's either a chess prodigy, a helpless fool, the next coming of Empress Marianne, or a political genius depending on whom you ask. Australia is the first time he has spent any significant time in public."
Dread crawled down his spine and settled into his gut. Empress Marianne had visited their division twice, each time showing an unusual interest in Lelouch. Alex had insinuated that Lelouch had gotten tangled up with the Emperor by becoming Zero. Lelouch had taken for the first time an extended vacation, and Prince Lelouch showed up in Australia.
The notion was ridiculous. Plenty of people were named after the royals. While Lelouch had the occasional noble habit, he interacted with others too easily. There was none of the ingrained aura of superiority surrounding him. And if it was true, then Roy had let a prince of Britannia get kidnapped and tortured. He would be dead. Art would've been deader than dead. Roy had seen Empress Marianne shoot a man in cold blood for insulting her. Hurting a prince was far worse.
No, it had to be mere coincidence.
Accepting otherwise meant that Lelouch's father—a man who threatened a daughter to keep his son under control—was the Emperor. The Emperor was supposed to be good and just, not cruel and overbearing. Harming one's own blood could hardly benefit the Empire.
"I've better use of my time than keeping track of the royal gossip," Roy said, brushing off his ignorance.
She parked the car, and they stepped outside, transitioning to familiar and safer topics now that they were in public. Roy checked his phone, making sure there had been no new updates from Lelouch.
"What gate is he?" Selena asked.
Roy frowned. "He said to meet him at the ridiculously large statue of the Emperor. Hey, it's what he wrote. Maybe there are multiple statues, I don't know."
"There's one," she said dryly. "The Yates donated it last summer... but normal people would give us a gate number. Do you even know what flight he is on?"
"Lelouch is terrible at sharing information that he doesn't deem relevant," Roy said. Entering the airport and navigating through the endless stream of arrivals, Roy caught sight of the Emperor's looming form. "It is rather large."
"Roy," she hissed.
Sitting at the statue's feet, he spotted Lelouch anxiously scanning the slow-moving crowd and clutching his bag.
"Shit," he whispered.
"What?" Selena asked.
"Never mind. Don't invade his personal space," he warned. "Give me a minute."
He had forgotten that Frederick already had a family thing. With Henry's sudden family emergency, Lelouch would've traveled alone. Lelouch didn't deal with periods of extended solitude well. Someone was always nearby in the division to intervene if he began to anxiously pace, or worse, grow completely quiet, caught in a memory. Already, the signs of tensions were there as Lelouch tapped his foot restlessly. His posture was too stiff, too formal.
"Hey, Toothpick!" he shouted.
Lelouch half rose—still too calm and reserved as if the world was watching—and Roy pulled him into a hug.
"You've grown," Roy said, mentally noting that Lelouch's uniform probably had to be adjusted.
"Can't breathe," Lelouch cried. "It hasn't been that long."
"I had to do all your paperwork. An eternity passed." Roy stepped back, bowed perfunctorily to the statue, and slung an arm over Lelouch's shoulder. Overwhelming informality was always the fastest way to help Lelouch become comfortable. "There's my fiancee. She asked about you... I think I didn't leave her the best impression of you. She thinks you're a bad influence."
"The worst," Lelouch joked, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing. "Without me, you'd be terribly boring."
"I'd have less gray hairs."
"Don't be ridiculous. You don't have any gray hairs."
"But you do. The longer I do your job, the more likely I am to develop them. My parents will disinherit me if they find some before I'm thirty."
Affronted, Lelouch crossed his arms. "I don't have any gray hairs."
"You started dyeing your hair a while back. What? Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Roy laughed and picked up the duffel bag, ignoring Lelouch's outraged look. "Come on. Can't keep my lady waiting."
"Please tell me nothing blew up while I was gone?" Lelouch asked tiredly.
"I did send you updates."
"Let's say someone was a little overzealous in ensuring I took a vacation, and I know nothing," Lelouch mumbled. "But Nunnally's message got through. We definitely need to talk.
In the crowd, various figures, slightly too composed, began to move. Roy narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to Lelouch.
"So... Some of the other men pointed out you're absolutely oblivious—"
"Roy," Lelouch growled.
"—and might have missed the numerous hints I've been dropping." Roy inhaled. "You're my best man and it's too late to change my mind."
"Why didn't you tell me? Wait, what does that even mean? What do I even have to do?"
"Basically what you're doing already. Plan the wedding. Help me face my parents. Give a speech," Roy said. "Easy stuff for you. It's also a big honor and would absolutely be rude to turn it down."
"You're not even being subtle," Lelouch grumbled and ran a hand down his face. "It's a big deal?"
"Yes?" Roy frowned. At times Lelouch's gaps in knowledge were utterly baffling.
Lelouch sighed. "Probably for the best you didn't ask in your letters. My mother might have come to the brilliant conclusion to invite herself."
"She was reading your letters? You can invite her if you want. My parents are definitely inviting all of our business associates. Even planning this at the last minute didn't stop them."
"My mother has a hard time understanding personal privacy. Trust me though, you definitely don't want her there."
Roy shrugged and turned to Selena. "Lelouch, my fiancee. Selena, my best friend."
Lelouch bowed without hesitation. "A pleasure to meet the lady who holds Roy's heart,"
The entire gesture had been ridiculously smooth and spoke of years of practice. Roy felt the familiar uncomfortable itch when Lelouch crossed the social line, slipping into noble mannerisms. From Selena's considering look, she had felt it as well.
"It's nice to meet you as well," Selena said, dipping slightly in an informal curtsy, instead of a normal greeting. "I understand you serve together with Roy?"
"He had the pleasure of bossing me around in Basic. Now, I return the favor," Lelouch said. "He talks of you often."
Roy ruffled his hair in revenge then looked at his hand curiously. "Lelouch, you have flour in your hair."
"Do I?"
He was almost scared to ask. "How was your family?"
"I ruined someone's life, Frederick is angry with me, and my father is... pleased." Lelouch grimaced. "So absolutely terrible. It's good to be back."
"At least your father is happy?" Selena asked hesitantly.
"That just means all my siblings will want to kill me when they find out," Lelouch said.
"Siblings?" Roy asked.
Lelouch briefly froze, the break in his composure easily covered by him pretending to ogle a temporary jewelry stand. "My father's reproductive strategy resembles that of a coyote's. We don't really know each other."
And the insults were back. Given the flour in his hair, he was undoubtedly stressed.
Only seven of the old powerful noble families practiced polygamy—a practice mostly discouraged by taxes. Of course it was possible that his father had a bunch of bastards running around, but Britannia tended to legitimize bastards when they outnumbered the main line. It spoke poorly of a family to not take care of its own. There was of course one other family... and hadn't Lelouch's mother been in a wheelchair as well?
Roy wasn't ready for this line of inquiry. Especially when Lelouch was easily joking with Selena, managing to charm her despite her initial dour assessment. Roy knew Lelouch, even if he lied, and there was no way to reconcile the image of royalty with him. The critical part within him wasn't convinced.
If it was true... then what?
He could ask him; Lelouch would lie, and everything would be reasonably explained away. Or he would be found guilty of knowing too much and be done away. Lelouch wouldn't… but Empress Marianne or the Emperor would.
No, he was going insane. Seeing things which were not there. But they were definitely being followed.
"Why is intelligence following you this time?" Roy asked quietly.
"Not OSI," Lelouch grumbled. "My father has apparently deemed I'm an investment worth protecting."
Bodyguards… Another tick in the "my friend is a prince and has perfectly maintained his cover for five years while fabricating his personal history" column.
Roy shook his head. When put that way, the entire notion was ridiculous. There was a simpler, more practical explanation: Lelouch was a bastard son whose father now realized his worth and was considering legitimizing. Naturally, his half-siblings wouldn't be thrilled if they heard.
The simple, reasonable, explanation was often correct. To consider the other possibility, he needed concrete proof.
Outer Concessions, Tokyo, Area Eleven
Nunnally hugged herself against the cold biting winds. Her stomach rolled in anticipation, a symptom of weakness. She had nothing to fear from some lowly chess matches. The stakes were higher than normal, but her opponents would be of a weaker variety. None of them would match up to Schneizel's brilliance or her brother's shrewdness.
"This is most unusual," the arbiter said, his footsteps heavy compared to Allie's light ones. "Chess matches are about competing individuals. To allow another to interfere is questionable."
"But it isn't interference," Allie said. "Dictation does not grant my friend an advantage. The rules are the same for blindfolded chess."
"And what can she hope to accomplish? A blind chess player? It's preposterous. Does she even know how to play?"
Nunnally bit her tongue. At times like these, having Milly by her side was helpful. No one would ever dare to protest when the Ashford heiress declared something so. Unfortunately, Milly was back at the academy, busy organizing a rally and working with the print club to distribute flyers. Already, there had been similar protests near the Viceroy palace as people demanded an investigation. They always fled at the first sign of the Knight Police.
Things would calm down in the next few weeks, the initial momentum lost. Clovis would get complacent, thinking the danger over, and be unprepared for the flurry of evidence that would be seemingly spread overnight. Really, Nunnally shouldn't wait that long for the next phase, but Lelouch was visiting and wouldn't be as oblivious as their mother. She would use the time instead to get closer to Clovis. For once, her mother had been useful for something.
Brian cleared his throat. "Well, if you think it's such a lost cause, then the entrance fee won't be necessary."
"Some Honorary won't tell me what to do," the arbiter spat. "I won't bend the rules for some blind brat."
"If cowardice is the issue, I'll be taking back that entrance fee," said Brian. "It'd be dishonorable to not make some concessions."
Nunnally sensed an opportunity. "We would happily double the entrance fee for the inconvenience. Off the books, of course."
Where prejudice barred the way, greed opened many doors. The arbiter acquiesced with some additional insults and let them inside. The room was warm and filled with the scent of too many people close together. Her cane tapped the ground before her, and those around her fell quiet, new whispers starting.
Brian grabbed her shoulder and led her to the side. "Are you sure you can win?"
"You already paid, didn't you?" Nunnally smiled to hide her unease. "The first few matches won't be a problem. I said I would win, and I will. My debt to you will be cleared as soon as possible."
Chairs scraped across the floor, and Allie tugged on her elbow. "It's time. You're playing white."
Brilliant. White was her preferred color.
The first game ended quickly as her opponent attempted the Dutch defense and failed miserably. He easily fell prey to chasing her bishop, and it was checkmate in eight moves. Pathetic. He hadn't even hesitated in capturing her queen, not seeing that her next move was checkmate.
"You should see the arbiter," Allie whispered. "He looks so pissed."
"If this is the level of my competition, then I have nothing to fear," she whispered.
Around them chess clocks ticked relentlessly. Fifteen minutes per game. She didn't need to wait long for her next match. There was the usual hesitation as her opponent pulled up his chair and noticed Allie. The confused questions followed, and then they leaned forward to wish her a good game, their voice oozing with confidence.
Nunnally merely smiled, careful to not let her anticipation leak. They all made it too easy. The first round had cut the initial hundred competitors in half. In the next few rounds, the amateurs would be separated from the professionals.
This time, it took her twenty-two moves before her opponent had the good sense to resign as the clock ticked down to his final seconds. His end game had been abysmal, clearly feeling the time pressure and making terribly hasty moves.
"Good game," he said. His palm was sweaty.
"Pace yourself better next time," she said.
He laughed. "Yeah, that was a stupid move. Didn't realize it until the second after. I'm sorry. Are you really blind?"
She grinned. "As a bat."
The chair scooted backwards. "Well, next round should be harder. I thought for sure I would make it into the top quarter this time. You're facing Angelova next. Give her hell."
Nunnally picked up the captured queen, the bumps of the crown pressing into her finger. Lelouch was always fascinated with the queen, almost never sacrificing it and using it judiciously. She had no such consternations. They were all pieces to be discarded when useful.
"She looks confident," Allie whispered. "She beat her last opponent as quickly as you."
"Make sure to fuss a lot." Nunnally set the queen down and stretched her arms. It was probably best to play a little safer this time. More experienced opponents wouldn't fall for her gambits which would put her into debt with Brian. Risks were easier when nothing of value was at stake. Yet sometimes they were necessary to gain everything. "You know there is a way for you to come with me."
"I'm not leaving your side even if they tell me to," Allie assured, leading her to the next table.
"No, for my birthday." Nunnally bit her lip and inhaled. The potential rejection scared her, but she would gain nothing hesitating except spared feelings. On the bright side, her opponent would mistake her nerves to be about the upcoming match. "I'm not going to stay in school."
"There's no room for me with your family." Allie leaned in closer and her voice cracked. "I can't do what you do."
"Nor can I pilot a knightmare." Nunnally fumbled for her friend's hand and held it tightly. "I can't stand idly by while my brother does everything. But I also need you. I'm asking you to join me."
Heels struck repetitively on wood, rapidly approaching.
"Your parents will never allow it. You'll be in fancy dresses, talking above my head, and I'll still be here. If I'm lucky, I'll accomplish something of worth when I'm older and see you at an award ceremony. My family is literal nobodies."
An uncomfortable lump was lodged in her throat. "You're my friend. That's enough." The footsteps were almost there. "I want you to be my knight."
Nunnally turned away because she was a coward and extended her hand to her assumed opponent. "I think I will be playing you today?"
Her handshake was strong and firm. "Angelova Pavil. You're the one that has everyone up in a stir."
"Nunnally Lamperouge," she answered, ignoring the hiss from her friend. She had a chess game to win first. Then they could discuss it further. "May the best player win."
The chair scooted backwards. A camera clicked nearby, and Nunnally's head swiveled to face the source.
"Sir," Allie said, "no pictures allowed."
Trusting her friend to take care of it, Nunnally calmed her racing heart. Her opponent began the clock, the ticks echoing through the space between them.
"E-4," she said, ordering her pawn forward to the center field. Nothing too tricky or new. Her opponent was well known which suggested experience.
"C-5," Angelova responded, surprising Nunnally by saying the move out loud. The pawn clicked on the board half a second after.
Allowing herself a brief smile, Nunnally relaxed her shoulders. It was rare to meet an opponent who dared to fight her on an equal battlefield.
Nunnally ordered her knight forward, Allie playing out the move on the board, but not before Angelova verbally responded with her own move. The white bishop advanced, threatening the knight and daring her opponent to move.
Angelova responded by moving a single pawn forward, preparing to fianchetto her bishop. "G-6." Even the way she said it was mocking, as if she knew something which Nunnally didn't.
Breaking her relentless tempo, Nunnally took a moment to consider the board, before making the safe movement of castling. Her opponent responded by moving the bishop forward, now controlling the center diagonals.
A white pawn, one step forward, freeing the queen. A black pawn, two steps forward, controlling the center.
"D-4," Nunnally said, thus sacrificing her first pawn. A necessary move.
The black pawn took the white, then white countered. A black knight captured her pawn, and she claimed it with her own white knight, only to have it be captured by another black pawn.
They were both down a knight, but Nunnally had lost an extra pawn.
Undeterred, she said, "E-5" and set her trap.
The black knight moved to e-7. Without hesitation, Nunnally sent her bishop forward, pinning the black knight in front of the queen. Angelova castled. A nice and safe move.
Nunnally smiled and sent her queen to capture the lonesome pawn. The black knight moved forward to threaten it. She could take the black queen now, but it would undermine her objective. No, she moved her queen to the side, to safety. Her white pawn remained naked and alone in the center of the board.
The black queen moved, turning a retreat into an attack as it pinned a fragile pawn protecting the white king. Nunnally moved her knight forward to protect the much more important bishop.
Angelova paused, the clock ticking. The black bishop moved, capturing the tantalizing white pawn.
And now, Nunnally had won the game. "Rook, a-1 to e-1."
Unaware of her impending doom, the black bishop captured the white knight. Nunnally returned the favor with her pawn.
"Queen takes b-5," Angelova said, a hint of victory in her voice as she captured the white bishop.
"Queen, h-6," Nunnally said calmly. The white queen moved two innocent spaces forward, targeting the rook.
Far too late, the black queen came in for defense.
"Check," Nunnally said as the queen captured the rook.
The black king took her queen.
Nunnally leaned back. "It's checkmate in two. Bishop to h-6. You go g-8. The rook e-8. Checkmate."
A long pause.
"I resign," Angelova said. "Good game... A hand shake, Ms. Lamperouge."
Cheeks warming, Nunnally extended her hand. A camera clicked. For being a chess tournament organized by a character of questionable means, there was a ridiculous amount of media.
"Ms. Lamperouge, a most delightful game," a cool male voice interrupted. "Hmm... You are actually blind." Amused titters echoed through the room. "A prodigy such as yourself needs to be celebrated. A toast for the young lady here! The last time our darling Ms. Pavil won was against our resident reigning champion. Whenever he deigns it appropriate to grace us common folk with his presence."
Angelova cleared her throat. "We're the last match for the day. Relax, enjoy the festivities, before old grumpy men harass you because they lost their life savings betting against you."
The sudden outcry of voices deafened her, and Nunnally took a shaky breath. The clock to their side was still ticking, someone having forgotten to turn it off. Chairs scraped over the floor, heels and heavy boots thundered, and the announcer shouted something, his words having lost all meaning.
A heavy hand grasped her arm, pulling her to the side and out of the whirlwind.
"An interview, Ms. Lamperouge," he said—not Allie. Where was her friend? His hand was still wrapped around her forearm.
"Sir," Nunnally growled. "Let me go."
"Into that mess? That would be most deplorable of me. I have hard enough time navigating such zealous, over enthusiastic masses, and I tower over them. You though are merely a child—not to mention blind. How does your blindness affect your ability to play?"
She could hear a slight electronic whine. "Are you recording me?"
"Of course! It's not everyday that such a story lands on my plate."
"You will destroy that immediately," Nunnally hissed. She turned her head, desperately hoping to hear Allie's voice.
"Ms. Lamperouge, I must insist. Think of what an interview could do for you."
"Some no-name reporter plastering my face and name on some little fluff piece of self-satisfaction?" She sniffed and ripped her arm free. "I can do without your pity."
"Diethard Reid, at your service. You may have heard of me?"
"No. I don't usually bother with lowlifes such as yourself." And the official news sources were filled with propaganda.
He fell silent. "Clearly, the youth aren't taught the importance of respect these days. Now Miss, I can assure you that I won't misuse your name. There is a story here. Haven't you ever admired Empress Marianne's fortitude? Continuing to serve the Empire and succeed despite all obstacles, now that's a symbol of strength."
"No thank you," Nunnally said firmly.
"There you are!" Allie shouted, her cool hands wrapping around her arm.
"He's with the media," Nunnally said softly.
Allie stiffened. "Sir. May I ask that you please turn off the camera."
"Why?" His clothes rustled. "Your friend has delivered quite an accomplishment today. She should be celebrated... Unless she has something to hide."
Nunnally cleared her throat. Sometimes, the truth, modified of course, was best. "My family doesn't know I'm here. It's not an activity they would approve of, and I would prefer to keep them unaware. But should you publish that recording, rest assured that they will take legal action. We prefer our privacy."
Finally, the reporter let them depart. She could feel his curiosity and desperately hoped that he would keep the footage to himself. Galavanting off in the outer concessions and among criminals was Lelouch's thing, not hers. It was best for her parents to continue believing that fiction.
"Allie?" Nunnally asked once they escaped Brian's congratulations. He hadn't actually believed she would do well. "Will you be my knight?"
The silence stretched between them. Her soft footsteps and comforting grip reassured Nunnally that her friend was still there.
"I'm sorry," Allie whispered. "But… I can't. There are others more… qualified."
"None of them are my friend."
"A knight is more than that." Allie let go. "I'm sorry. I can't be that person for you. I want to be there for you, with you, but I need… A knight is a sword, subservient."
Nunnally swallowed, her chest tight. "A knight can't be a friend, you mean."
"Yes." Allie's fingertips brushed over her shoulder, and Nunnally flinched back. "Please? We still have a while until your birthday. Let's make the best of it. Just promise… Promise that you won't forget me."
"I promise." Nunnally reached out, grabbing Allie's hand, and bit her lip, so the tears wouldn't fall.
Two days later, a tournament victory and invitation in her back pocket, Clovis told her she should get a knight.
"Especially given your condition," Clovis said, leading the way. "Of course, I assure your safety here with all the security, but what if you become lost?"
"Then I'll ask someone," Nunnally grumbled.
"Oh, that won't do at all. You're a princess. Come on, lift your head. People deserve to see your gorgeous eyes. That's better."
"Clovis. I'm not here to stand for a portrait. You agreed with my mother—"
"Oh, there's no need to be so formal here. It's just us two and my trusted advisors."
Nunnally grit her teeth. "My mother asked you to teach me about the media. None of which has to do with my posture."
"It most definitely does," he said.
Why had she ever thought this was a good idea?
Clovis cleared his throat, and a door creaked open. "Now, Nunnally. Rest assured, I do deliver on promises. This man here is the most brilliant Media Director that I have ever had the pleasure of working with. You agree that posture is of the utmost importance, don't you?"
A slightly familiar voice said, "Yes, your Highness."
"Mr. Reid, may I present my gorgeous younger sister, Nunnally vi Britannia." Clovis' hand fell on her back. "Not to worry, he will take good care of you. He may even know more than me."
Chuckling, Clovis left them behind.
Shit.
Worldbuilding Thoughts:
- Polygamy in CG fanfics is often depicted as something exclusive to the royal family, but in my brief rabbit dive into the weird history of polygamy, I couldn't find examples of countries where the practice was legal for rulers and illegal for everyone else. Now, I didn't research this exhaustively, but it seems more likely that if the Emperor/Empress can engage in polygamy, so may everyone else. The practice in general seems to decline due to economic forces as it's rather expensive when practiced in the traditional sense. A study did find that polygamy rose in agricultural communities because large families had more available labor. Now, all of this is nice, but then you come to taxes… and I won't bore you with how the practice of joint-filing came to be and how polygamy complicates this.
- Monuments are often used for purposes of establishing national identity and are very common in authoritarian regimes. They also serve an additional purpose for the elites as a way to signal loyalty to the regime. The elites are both necessary to keeping the regime in power but also capable of ousting the regime when banding together. Therefore, they are also more likely to be stripped of power or killed if they're considered disloyal. It also becomes a loyalty game with various elites trying to signal that they're even more loyal than the others which doing successfully results in favor from the regime.
- Nunnally's game against Angelova is actually a real, famous game. I've decided my chess skills are too subpar at this point. For reference, the game is Judit Polgar vs Pavlina Chilingirova, nicknamed Angelova of Death. The game actually ended a little bit earlier, but I played out the next few moves required for checkmate.
Author's Note:
I hear everyone, the wedding shall be shown. :) I clearly underestimated everyone's investment in it.
Thank you x1tears1X on FFN and Dark for your help with betaing. Leave a comment on your way out. :)
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj