Chapter 14
"Greetings, Lord Britannia. It's such an honor to be invited in this special event. May I introduce to you my eldest son, Lloyd Asplund."
"It's my pleasure to meet one of the most respected man in our land," The younger Asplund greets.
"He is currently studying laws and taxes at the Pendragon University, so if you ever need someone knowledgeable on prohibitions and articles, you can talk to him anytime."
Charles laughs heartily. "Are you insinuating that my knowledge on such matters are lacking?"
The father sputters, suddenly red with the misinterpretation. "No! I didn't mean that, my lord! It is common knowledge that you are excellent on whichever field you chose to invest. I'm just -"
"I'm just jesting. No need to be all nervous." Extending his hand, Charles pats the son's arm and gives it a quick squeeze. "A young man who knows his country and money. I like that. Now, if you may excuse me, I have to start this party before my guests decided that I am a lousy host."
Both father and son bow in courtesy as he passes by them. "Thank you, my lord!"
Standing before the black cloth enshrouding the queen of the day, Charles zi Britannia scans the buzzing crowd, briefly memorizing the faces that came today. Nobles and ordinary people alike fill his garden, occupying the same ground and spaces. He smiles as he recalls the surprised faces of some aristocrats upon seeing farmers, blacksmiths and vendors already splurging themselves on expensive wine and appetizers. There were some that turned away in disgust, others who worried while staring judgingly at the working men and women, clearly annoyed by the fact that they now belong to the same group.
Ah, such simple-minded people.
Clapping twice, he immediately gets the crowd's attention and with booming voice he announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am truly grateful for your presence as you grace this simple event. Today, we will unveil the latest attraction in the Britannia estate, but before we go to that portion, I would like to introduce someone who had significantly contributed to the construction and beautification of the landmark. He is an outstanding artist with an imagination limitless as the sky above. Mr. Lelouch Lamperouge!"
Surprise paints the young man's face as the unexpected turn of events unfolds before him. Charles gives him the floor and watches his genuine speechless reaction.
"Mr. Lamperouge is a painter. Ah, let me tell you a short story." Walking to and fro, Charles adapts a thinking gesture, putting on a dramatic show infront of his audience. Earning a lighthearted laugh, the viscount smiles as he jokes, "Let me take a moment remembering the story. You see, my silver hair is not a wig." Another laugh including one from Mr. Lamperouge. "Aha! Almost a month ago, I was lamenting for the lost of inspiration as to what design to use in building the gazebo. It almost came to the point that I would have stopped the construction altogether and abandon the plan but then I thought, 'Where would I put all these displaced rocks and tree? Certainly, I cannot mount them in the ball room as I proudly say, 'Look at these mosses covering this rock, aren't they so... natural? Oh, look at this one, isn't it so...big?" He waits for the laughter to subside before continuing his act. "No, seriously, I considered the hardwork and time that the builders dedicated and as respect to their efforts, I cannot just give up and surrender to this temporary phase of living without inspiration. And as if the universe conspired, I met Mr. Lamperouge." The viscount pats Mr. Lamperouge's back twice before softly pushing him towards the front. The young man is obviously getting shy with the way he combs his ebony hair with his fingers while looking at the ground.
"We had an insightful talk about art and inspiration which I wouldn't bore you with the details. Let me just say, that I asked him to make a design for me and what he did exceeded my expectation that I couldn't help but to steal it from him," Charles laughs, "No, of course, I politely asked him and he generously agreed. Mr. Lamperouge, do you have something to say?"
"Thank you for the praise, sir, but I just did what you asked," he playfully answers.
"So if I asked you to jump over a cliff, you're going to do it?" Charles challenges.
"Ah," Lelouch nods. "With all due respect, that would be up for debate. Is it for art? For the good of many? Who will benefit the most? How high is the cliff? Fortunately, I do not have a fear of heights."
The audience chuckles along with Charles. Satisfied with their little skit, finally, the viscount holds one end of the rope while Mr. Lamperouge holds the other one. Together, they pull and the black cloth opens up revealing the newly-constructed gazeebo.
Gasps of amazement and admiration fill the air which are quickly followed by a round of applause.
"I'm glad that you like it," Charles notes. "So if ever you find yourself wanting a design as lovely as this, you can reach out to Mr. Lamperouge... through me," he teases for the last time yet he perfectly means every word of it. The situation will definitely benefit the younger man - building connections and earning his own money. Establishing a good reputation among the nobles is a big plus, too. But there are people in this gathering that Charles eyes to negotiate with through Mr. Lamperouge. His gaze finds a pair of man and woman who stands at the very back of the crowd. They are inconspicuous, almost invisible, blending among the group of ordinary people yet Charles attention hasn't left them since the beginning of the party.
"My lord," Mr. Lamperouge calls as he stands next to the noble. "That was... truly unexpected and unnecessary, I mean your praises earlier."
Grabbing his left shoulder, Charles assures, "I give credit to where and whom it is due. Now, do not leave my side for people are going to start approaching you."
Mr. Lamperouge stands taller. "Yes, sir."
And just like what Charles said, people - noble and ordinary people alike approach Lelouch inquiring about his works, wondering if he could do the same for them, or in the case of the working men, if Lelouch can share and teach them his skills.
The viscount serves as the mediator, filtering the offers and who offered for in the end, he still wanted those who are trustworthy enough to be in contact with him.
"A portrait of the whole family?" Mr. Lamperouge repeats.
The duke from South England nods. "Yes. How much would it cost?" he proudly asks tapping his breast pocket.
"Well..."
"Perhaps, we can talk about the cost later," Charles intervenes as he sees the pair slowly approach their place, "But I assure you that you won't be disappointed by the result."
"That works for me," the duke answers.
As soon as the noble leaves, Charles wears his serious face while the pair arrives to their place.
"Lord Charles vi Britannia, we extend our gratitude for being invited to such event."
"Of course, how could I forget Her Majesty's wise advisors?" Extending his right hand, Charles exchanges a hand shake with them. "And let me introduce to you, Mr. Lelouch Lamperouge. Mr. Lamperouge, they are Lord Diethard Ried and Lady Cecile Croomy, the Queen's closest advisors."
It is obvious that he catches Mr. Lamperouge off guard with the way the latter's eyes subtly widen and the pause before he accepts the hand shake from the pair. Yet, Mr. Lamperouge handles the situation better than he expected. He doesn't stutter nor stumble over his words, instead what he shows is a demeanor of a noble man who's used to meeting aristocrats on a daily basis. Hmm.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord, my lady. I hope you are enjoying the party so far."
Lord Ried nods in approval. "This kind of party is what we expected from the viscount," he says, eyeing Charles, "Glamorous but it carries the air of charity."
"Ah, well, it is good to give back and show our acceptance to the people who sow our lands despite the class differences every now and then."
Lady Croomy speaks and her voice is that of calm waters. "Have you heard that the viscount of Zevon lost his control of his land?"
Charles shakes his head. "I actually haven't. That is such an unfortunate event. What did Her Majesty think of it?"
"Her Majesty doesn't bother herself with problems as small as this, but she can definitely smell incompetency from the throne."
"But," Lord Ried steps forward, his serious demeanor changing into an interested one, "That is not why we are here. We are curious about Mr. Lamperouge."
Charles smiles, satisfied. "Talent attracts talent."
"What you did with the gazebo is truly spectacular. We would like to invite you to the palace and present before the Queen a design for the fountain that would be constructed in the middle of the main garden. It will be the largest and the tallest landmark in the area and Her Majesty wants it to be the diamond among the gems."
"T-The Queen?" This time, Mr. Lamperouge cannot hide his shock and Charles cannot blame the boy.
"Indeed. Can you finish it by the weekend? The viscount will be with you during the presentation."
Mr. Lamperouge glances at Charles nervously, at lost and awe. The latter pats his back reassuringly.
Mr. Lamperouge swallows then tilts his chin up proudly. "Yes, I can do that. It will be a great honor to be of assistance to Her Majesty, the Queen, herself."
As soon as the advisors are out of sight, Mr. Lamperouge turns back to Charles. Gone is the bravado and composure he wore a while ago. Right now, right infront of him, is a boy whose eyes are filled with genuine excitement and disbelief and Charles cannot help but see his younger self in him - his younger self back when his beliefs weren't tainted with the stain of dirty politics and classism yet.
"Is it alright for me to agree with that?" the younger man inquires.
"You are having the biggest opportunity of your life. Are you willing to let go of it and wallow on regret later on?" Mr. Lamperouge shakes his head adamantly. "The Queen's advisors are some of the people who are the most difficult to please, Mr. Lamperouge, and for the fact that your work caught their interest speaks for your talent itself. I believe that you will be able to impress Her Majesty. Now, you've got to believe in yourself."
"Thank you," Mr. Lamperouge exhales. "For your encouragement and opportunity. I truly appreciate everything you have done for me since I came here. I promise to pay your kindness back by impressing the Queen."
Charles chuckles. "Well, I can't have myself regret not endorsing you if you ever turn out to be my real son in the end. I am not really good at dealing with guilt, generally."
At that statement, Mr. Lamperouge is rendered wordless. Charles is an observant man and he can see how the man weighs his answer to such comment. Or if he considers answering at all. Well, it doesn't matter. It is just a playful mind game on Charles's part after all, this is not the right time to test Mr. Lamperouge's legibility. There are more important matters at hand to think about, to celebrate. Like infiltrating the Queen's closest people and earn their curiosity which he just succeeded in achieving a while ago.
At the very least, he has finally put Mr. Lamperouge into good use. His hospitality doesn't come without a price after all.
"Miss Ceci, I can see papa! He's with Mr. Lamperouge."
"Now, do not run, Nunnally. You might trip on your new shoes."
Ceci consciously places the stray strand of hair that escapes her tie behind her ear as soon as her eyes meet with Mr. Lamperouge's. It is truly quite a discomfort to braid her hair loosely and let it rest against her nape but Milly insisted on styling it this way, saying that she would look like a lovely, mysterious nymph in the forest which would completely compliment the setting of the event. The nanny even put tiny flowers on her hair for added flair.
But look at her now, Milly, worrying whether her hair will fall off on top of worrying about the twins.
Nunnally and Rolo drag her towards the viscount and Mr. Lamperouge's place, excited to show off their new dress and coats. Meanwhile, Mr. Lamperouge is already making his way towards them, a serious look masking his face. Is there something wrong? Perhaps, a mishap took place? She hopes not.
However, when they are mere feet away from each other, a tall figure suddenly blocks her way.
"Miss Corabelle, it's good to see you again. How have you been?"
Looking up, Ceci is immediately transported back to the day she first saw those emerald eyes. It was as much as similar as this moment where she was being dragged by the twins to their beloved father in the middle of a party. While she was dressed in her ordinary governess dress for she wasn't invited to the gathering to begin with, the twins had requested for her company until they got settled in the environment. And there he was, standing quietly beside the viscount in his traditional Japanese clothes, listening to whatever the older man was saying. Something must have caught his attention that he suddenly turned to them and Ceci was briefly astounded by his green irises causing her to stare a little bit longer than normal.
The twins break away from her grip and she is left standing alone infront of Mr. Suzaku Kururugi, a young wealthy businessman from Japan. She renders a polite bow. "It's a pleasure to see you, Mr. Kururugi. I've been well. And you?"
"I still have a growing headache from the long journey since I woke up, but it finally begins to subside just now," he says with a grin.
"That's good to hear then. Have you met the viscount?" she answers changing the subject.
"Actually, I haven't. Why don't we go to him together?" He offers his right arm and Ceci has a short time to ponder whether to be polite and accept his offer or to pretend she doesn't notice his arm and walk on her own. She chooses the former, remembering that her rudeness can reflect the viscount's morale.
"Ah, Mr. Kururugi, finally!" the viscount cheerfully greets.
Ceci tunes their exchange out and turns to converse with Mr. Lamperouge when she finds him glowering at her hand that is still clutching Mr. Kururugi's arm. Quickly but not harshly, she lets go and proceeds to Mr. Lamperouge's place.
"And here I thought that governesses respect punctuality," the man teases as she nears him.
"Perhaps, your clock was set in advance. As I see it, the party is just beginning," she playfully answers.
Mr. Lamperouge shakes his head dramatically. "Oh, you missed out on a lot of important things, Madame Governess, like me being the star of this afternoon. Maybe, you were too busy picking those flowers on your head."
Suddenly conscious, Ceci touches the little sprites scattered on her mane. "Are they too showy? I told Milly not to put too many but – "
"You look beautiful, Miss Corabelle. Please, do not worry."
They both turn at the newcomer with Ceci noticing how Mr. Lamperouge stands straighter and firmer on his place. Meanwhile, surprised by the unexpected compliment, Ceci could only manage a bow to hide the sudden rush of heat on her cheeks.
"That is kind of you, Mr. Kururugi," she whispers.
"I see that you still have your eyes to Miss Corabelle after a year." Joining the conversation, the viscount stands beside Mr. Kururugi with the twins clinging on his other side. Wine in hand, his observant eyes roam around the group and it doesn't escape Ceci's notice how calculated and careful it is.
Mr. Kururugi chuckles. "Who wouldn't? No one can forget a lovely face like hers. When I returned to Japan, no one believed me when I told them that I saw a goddess personify in real life. They thought I was delusional, that the western air had turned me mad. Well, to see is to believe."
She is getting uncomfortable. Mr. Kururugi wasn't as bold as this the last time they met. Back then, it was only his lingering gaze that she had to deal with, something that was already out of her comfort. That she could easily dodge by hiding among the crowd and in the corners of the mansion. But now, he doesn't even try to hide whatever his agenda and Ceci could only wish for the party to end sooner.
"That is a bit too much of a comparison. I don't deserve your compliments," she shyly answers.
"But I'm not lying, am I?"
She realizes that the question is directed to Mr. Lamperouge. Ceci waits with bated breath and suddenly, with racing heart for his answer. Why she is unexpectedly nervous about his answer, she doesn't know. Why does it matter to her if he finds her lovely or not? She never seeks compliments from others especially from men. As long as she's done her job right, she's satisfied. Yet oddly, she worriedly wants to hear his answer.
She sneaks a glance up at Mr. Lamperouge and finds him already looking at her. "Well, I can say that she's every artist's dream muse."
If only she can dig a hole beneath her and bury herself six feet underground, she have done it by now. A woman like her could only take a few compliments that have to do with her appearance every now and then. Oh, she badly wants to escape this conversation now but who is she kidding? She feels happy about Mr. Lamperouge's answer because... because... No. She won't let herself interpret his words to her convenience. Again.
Mr. Kururugi laughs quietly as he nods. "Indeed, as you know better than I do." He extends a hand between him and Mr. Lamperouge. "Kururugi Suzaku. I came from Japan but my lengthy trips here had taught me enough about the language."
"Lelouch Lamperouge... sir."
"Your work is magnificent. I hope to work with you in the future. Is that alright with you, my lord?"
The way the viscount squeezes Mr. Lamperouge's shoulder doesn't escape Ceci's notice. She knew that 'squeeze'. She had been once in the receiving end of that gesture. "By all means. He is not my property to selfishly keep. Though, there is already a long line asking for his skills. You might have to wait a little longer."
"That's fine by me. I have all the time in the world, after all we shouldn't rush art. But perhaps, as I wait, I shall ask Miss Corabelle for a dance."
Taken aback by the sudden declaration, Ceci gawks at Mr. Kururugi's waiting hand. From her left, she can feel someone intensely watching her.
"Excuse me, Mr. Kururugi." Nunnally's polite voice somehow diffuses the tension and Ceci is very much thankful for the innocent interruption. "But Miss Ceci already promised us the first dance. Perhaps, you can have the second dance."
"Or the third dance because Mr. Lamperouge will dance with her next," Rolo adds.
Ceci's eyes widen like saucers. Oh, no. As much as she understands where they are coming from, it is disrespectful to simply tell something like that to the viscount's guest. It sounds like she is feeling so important that there has to be an order for her to accommodate people. But she is just a governess! Oh, goodness, this is embarrassing!
The twins catch her alarmed look and quickly take a step back.
Mr. Kururugi raises a curious brow. "Is that so?"
Ceci shakes her head, about to apologize. "No - "
"The children can wait," the viscount says. "Because they're going to dance with me first. You can dance with Miss Corabelle. She has a lot of time to spare to you."
If only it is appropriate to do so, she could have scrunched her nose at that moment, annoyed by how the viscount decided everything for her. She is a governess, not an escort for someone who the viscount is targeting to collaborate with. Her nose itches from badly wanting to do the movement but she composes herself.
"Is it alright for Mr. Lamperouge, then?" the guest inquired.
"You are our guest. The floor is all yours."
Oh, now Ceci is definitely angry. His words are the fuel that combust the flames. How could he give her away like that? As if it is so easy for him to let go. She understands that there's the pressure from the viscount, but Mr. Lamperouge could have worded his statement better. Not as if she's a toy he can quickly pass to one of his friends to play with.
Mr. Lamperouge catches her look of contempt and he has the audacity to look confused, so she rolls her eyes which makes the man more puzzled.
To think that she was in a good mood earlier after receiving Shirley's letter informing that the business is doing better now.
"Shall we?" Ceci initiates offering her hand to Mr. Kururugi.
"I'd love to," the man smiles and they portray a scene very much the opposite of how they started.
She is angry.
She is certainly angry. At him.
Is it because he failed to answer at once when she asked him about the flowers on her head? Is it because of his answer to Mr. Kururugi's question about her appearance? Did he insinuate too much? Let his tongue speak what his heart has been mulling over? Or is it because of the dance? Which is it?
From his place near the gazebo, Lelouch watches the woman of his confusion and Mr. Kururugi dance gracefully with the soothing music from the string quartet. Disappointment had washed over his body earlier upon learning that he wouldn't be able to dance with her first. But as much as he wanted to insist, he cannot disobey the viscount. Not after the man opened so many doors of opportunities for him including that of meeting Her Majesty, the Queen in the future - a feat his mother can never do for him.
But here, standing alone with his glass of wine, miserably watching Miss Corabelle dance with another man - a man who obviously knows his way around the nobles and high society, a man who has been to so many places, accumulating all these experiences that he wears with pride and grace, a man of status and wealth - he can't help but belittle himself despite the praises he received a while ago. How can he match someone like Mr. Kururugi who clearly fancies Miss Corabelle?
Ah, goddamn he just wants to dance with her yet here he is feeling discouraged. Flabbergasted, that's what he felt earlier when his eyes laid upon her beautiful form. Beautiful? That word is starting to lose its meaning, is beginning to feel not enough to describe not only her appearance but also her heart. Oh, good grief, listen to him talking about 'hearts'! How Luciano will laugh at him and mock him if his friend hears his words.
How Luciano will judge him by how much he had changed since he left – how he became softer and milder towards people. Kallen's words still linger in his mind, constantly reminding him of the stupid decision he had made and the pain he had caused her. If only he could apologize to her for a hundred more times, he will. But now, he subjected himself in this situation where he is trapped between the woman who wants him and the woman he wants. And there is nothing but constant guilt and fear of being discovered that stay in his thoughts.
Ah, he wants to paint right now and release the tension. Will it be disrespectful to excuse himself for the day and shut himself in his room? He desires to capture Miss Corabelle in paper while her image is fresh and present. He could draw butterflies flying over her head making her the nymph that she is.
"Mr. Lamperouge?"
A young woman with hair as light as hay is standing before him with a shy smile on her face. He isn't sure how long she has been calling his attention; he isn't sure how long he has been daydreaming.
"Yes, how may I help you?"
The woman curtsies. She looks like his age, can also be a couple of years younger than him. She wears that giddy innocence in her eyes which reminds Lelouch of the ladies back home.
"Oh, my name's Leila Malcal! Your design is amazing! I like how it looks like a romantic cage!"
Lelouch smiles, flattered that someone other than the viscount understands the design. "Thank you."
"So... Do you want to dance? I noticed that you are alone so I think..."
Lelouch looks around then shrugs. There's nothing wrong to entertain her offer, correct? This is so much reminiscent of how women fawn over him and the nostalgia hits him hard. He can't say that he misses the feeling, hell, right now he only desires the attention of one certain woman, but this situation somehow grounds him from the aristocracy around him. This reminds Lelouch of old pubs and stale drinks, of rowdy townsfolk and bold maidens. Though, he is certain that Miss Malcal came from a noble family.
"How can I say no to a lady?" he answers kindly as he offers her his arm.
The music is that of joyful nature, something that can be heard during harvest season or spring time. Suited for the garden venue and informal party and Lelouch doesn't know how to dance to it. He, Miss Corabelle, and the twins have practiced waltz and other sorts of formal dances but not this. He couldn't even follow the beat of the music.
So he moves there like a clumsy child learning his first steps. Miss Malcal laughs good-naturedly at his predicament and does not laugh when he almost step on her foot.
"I'm afraid I didn't learn the dance to this music. I'm being such a poor partner," he apologizes.
Miss Malcal shakes her head, her long blonde hair brushing against Lelouch's knuckles. "Do not worry. This is a dance of the common people to celebrate their abundant harvests and earnings. Nobles don't usually know about it unless we intentionally learn it. I understand your situation, Mr. Lamperouge."
But he is not a noble, he wants to say. He just isn't really aware that this dance exist. It is different in the south.
To confirm Miss Malcal's statement, Lelouch looks around and notes that most of the people dancing are those he regularly sees around the estate - the villagers, the farmers, merchants and the likes. Rare are those who are in expensive dresses and suites. Most of them are standing at the sides, conversing with each other. He finds the twins already eating at a table with the viscount. They have been dancing earlier when the music was different. More formal.
But a certain green head not too far from him catches his attention. She is still dancing with Mr. Kururugi with surety on her steps and oddly, that brings comfort to Lelouch. For at least, in this situation he feels that they are in the same status.
"I heard that you also paint."
He returns his gaze to his dance partner embarrassed that he had almost forgotten about her.
"Yes, I do."
"Good because I want you to paint me."
"Well, you can lend me a photograph if you would like to avoid the hassle of posing for hours."
Suddenly, Miss Malcal's grip on his shoulder tightens as she stands on her tiptoes and whispers to his ear. "I don't mind posing for hours. I want you to paint me naked."
And Lelouch isn't able to avoid stepping on her foot anymore.
"Why don't you come with me?"
"To where?"
Mr. Kururugi spins her away before grabbing her waist to pull her back. During the unnecessary spin, Ceci catches a glimpse of Mr. Lamperouge dancing with Miss Malcal, one of the viscount's niece from his cousin. In that brief moment, her eyes narrows knowing how the younger lady can be both charming and rather… scandalous. A couple of years ago, the Britannia family had a grand reunion in which even the farthest of their relatives were invited. Miss Malcal who was only nineteen years old then had disappeared in the middle of the party only to be discovered by Ceci herself slipping away with an unknown man to the back garden. They were kissing... ravenously, their mouth melting against each other and Ceci couldn't forget the sight of tongues tangling. To say that she was traumatized by the incident was an understatement for it didn't leave her mind despite months passing after the gathering. Her only consolation from the incident was that she didn't allow the twins to come with her when she was tasked to find Miss Malcal despite their vehement insisting which eventually led to a full blown tantrum.
Mr. Lamperouge smiles at what Miss Malcal said and Ceci has to look away.
"To France. That will be my next destination. I have some quick business to take care of there," Mr. Kururugi answers immediately reminding Ceci who she is dancing with.
"My apologies, sir. But I am not capable to do that. I can't leave the estate for a long time. I have the little masters to look after," is her excuse.
"Perhaps, His Lord can hire someone to temporarily take your place for a month."
Ceci's eyes widen as she almost stomp on her partner's foot. "A month? That is... too long."
"I see it as a well-deserved rest for you. France is a beautiful place. The weather is just right for recreation. The sceneries are refreshing and enchanting. But what truly captivated me were there desserts. Trust me when I say that they are one of the most delicious desserts I've ever had and I don't even have a sweet tooth."
"Thank you for your generous invitation, sir. It indeed sounds like a wonderful place but I'm afraid you caught me off guard with your sudden offer," she politely begins. "There are a lot of matters that I have to settle before I would be able to go away with anyone for a period as lengthy as that. And I don't intend to be rude but we barely know each other, Mr. Kururugi..." she trails off and lets him realize what her words mean.
Embarrassed, she avoids his emerald gaze and once again, her eyes land on Mr. Lamperouge and Miss Malcal. This time, Miss Malcal is in her tiptoes, standing so closely to Mr. Lamperouge and whispering something in his ear. Whatever it is, it renders the man in complete surprise and... a small yelp... and Mr. Lamperouge steps on Miss Malcal's foot. Ceci watches them exchange awkward apologies as she wonders what the lady told him for him to react that way. She doesn't want to be prejudice but she can only think of inappropriate proposals. In fact, look how red Mr. Lamperouge's cheeks are.
"Did you hear what I just said? What warrants your full attention?"
Before Ceci could stop him, Mr. Kururugi has turned around and followed her gaze. A knowing smile plays on his lips and the governess can only imagine what is going through his mind.
"Artists," he utters confidently while watching Mr. Lamperouge and Miss Malcal who are now trying to resume their dance amidst the awkwardness. "They have an intriguing charm that draws people to them like a moth being drawn by light. Most of the time, it's the way they see the world differently. Does His Lord know?"
"About what?"
Mr. Kururugi turns back to her and only when he grabs her waist and pulls her closely that she realizes they had stopped dancing. The businessman is a tall man. Taller than Mr. Lamperouge for a couple of inches. Ceci's head only reaches his chest and she is already wearing shoes with decent height of heels. This close, she has to tilt her head up - higher than she is comfortable with - in order to meet his eyes. "That you fancy Mr. Lamperouge."
"I don't know what you are talking about, sir," is her fast retort.
Mr. Kururugi chuckles and she can almost feel the rumble of his chest. "I saw how you look at him earlier. You wanted him to be your first dance, don't you? You got mad when he gave you away that quickly. You think that you hide your emotions well, Miss Corabelle but you are as transparent as the mountain's fresh water."
Lifting her chin up, she tries to defend herself despite not knowing what she says will help her at all.
"I don't have time to indulge myself with such feelings. My days are already occupied by being the governess of the house."
"Having no time doesn't mean that you can't and aren't feeling these emotions. But it would be a pity if he already has a lady of his own."
"Pardon?"
Mr. Kururugi raises an eyebrow. "Surely, Mr. Lamperouge must have a lover. With charisma and talent like his, it wouldn't be a surprise if he's already betrothed."
Ceci freezes. The thought never crosses her mind. But there is a big possibility in Mr. Kururugi's words. Of course, of course, Mr. Lamperouge must have a lovely lady waiting patiently for him in his hometown. He never mentions it, but why would he? No situation required him to disclose his status and if he does have one? If he confirms it, what will she do?
Nothing.
He owes her no explanation nor excuse for being betrothed. They are just mere acquaintances - a governess and a guest who coincidentally spend so much time together due to circumstances laid down before them. Platonic, cordial, friendly. Nothing else.
Nothing.
So why is there a fear budding in her heart that makes it hard for her to breathe? Just the thought of it makes her want to leave the garden and shut herself in her room regardless if that means leaving the twins behind.
"You need a mask, Miss Corabelle," a voice muffled by her thoughts whispers. "You wear your heart on your face."
She swallows and tries her might to appear composed and stable. "For a man, you are such the gossip," Ceci says not caring if she had stepped over boundaries and offended him. Later... She will definitely regret this later.
"I am a businessman and a businessman always observes and considers his surroundings. I don't gamble on things that will make me lose."
"Then you should know when you are losing the fight, Mr. Kururugi."
Releasing her, the businessman steps back and renders a gentleman bow. In a voice that is both self-assured but not too arrogant, he says, "My offer still stands. I'll be patiently waiting for your answer."
Nunnally and Rolo aren't amused by parties. Indeed, they enjoy the food and music and the company of their playmates when the latter are brought by their parents, sometimes. But all these socializations with tall people are quick to consume the twins' energy especially when they had already memorized everyone's greetings and conversations about them.
You grew taller, Miss Britannia.
You are resembling the viscount as you get older, Mr. Britannia.
Would you like to visit the park once with my daughter? I am certain that you will get along well.
Have you already ridden a horse? My son was afraid at first, but he was able to sit still for a minute.
Yes, Rolo has but it is a secret.
However, what tires them the most is the conversation between adults which often leave them sitting beside their father with sleepy eyes and childish disinterest.
And that is what is currently happening as the viscount entertains another tall man in their table.
"Do you want to dance again, Rolo?" Nunnally asks after losing the hope for Anya to appear in the crowd.
Rolo shakes his head. "My feet're tired. They'll sink into the ground if I stand."
"I wish I brought 'Madeleine' here with me," she says referring to her doll.
"I wish Miss Ceci finishes dancing with that man."
They direct their attention towards the center, immediately feeling impatient with how long their governess been away from them.
"Older people really dance longer," Nunnally comments with a yawn.
"It's because they have longer legs. When you get older, you'll dance until the morning, you see," answers Rolo.
"I won't. When I get older, I'll be the one playing the piano as the guests dance. Oh! We can do it together!"
Truly, Rolo's skill at playing the instrument had impressively improved and now, he can play alongside with his sister with confidence and sure fingers. The piano does not whimper anymore when he presses the keys instead it sings.
"Alright. But after we eat the dessert."
"Yes, yes."
Finally, they see Miss Ceci approaching their table and Nunnally and Rolo sit straighter, their boredom slightly forgotten.
"Did you have fun, Miss Ceci?" inquires Nunnally as the governess takes a seat next to her.
"As fun as I can have. Have you eaten?"
"We did and we already greeted lots of people. Miss Ceci, can we dance with you now?" asks Nunnally.
"We've been patiently waiting for our turn," adds Rolo.
"Of course. Come, my good children."
They form a circle of three in the middle of the party, gathering some curious looks from the audience. The twins are well-loved by the public despite their rare appearance in the Capital. The people remember one bubbly smart girl and one bright well-raised boy when they talk of the Britannia children. Very much like their parents, they would say.
"When will Mr. Lamperouge join us? He's been dancing with other people for thousands of years." Nunnally eyes the older man who is now dancing with a different woman. Earlier, he was with Miss Malcal who Nunnally barely remembers from one of Papa's gatherings.
"Let us have him enjoy this moment, Nunnally. He will definitely join us when he's free."
Suddenly, Rolo is asking the important questions. "How can older people dance for so long? Don't they get tired?"
"Well, because for some, dancing makes them happy. Others see it as a form of freedom while others use it as an escape from their busy lives. The time spent in dancing might be shorter compared to the other duties performed by people everyday. Yes, they do get tired but what's magical is dancing actually refill their energy to go back to their chores."
"Then why don't we see you dance sometimes?"
"Why do you think I should dance sometimes?"
Rolo shrugs then shyly says, "Because… Miss Ceci also needs to refill her energy after taking care of us."
At this, their governess squats at their level and rewards them with the smile that makes the twins think of sunshine and spring. "But I don't get tired taking care of you. And I never will be." She gathers them in her arms and the boredom the twins felt a while ago instantly melts away as their own source of joy refills their body with energy.
"What am I missing?"
"Mr. Lamperouge!" Nunnally exclaims delighted that finally, their older friend is with them. "Come, we are absorbing happiness!"
Miss Ceci chuckles, "That is one way to put it." Much to the twins' disappointment, their beloved governess releases them and stands pristinely to address Mr. Lamperouge. "Mr. Lamperouge," she acknowledges with a nod.
Without concealing his frown, Mr. Lamperouge's gaze wanders from Miss Ceci to the twins then back to Miss Ceci. He crosses his arms in an act of a child having a tantrum. The twins do that sometimes, too. "I was just about to join your bubble of happiness."
"Oh, I like that!" Rolo says and repeats 'Bubble of Happiness' for a couple of times.
"Let's do it! Let's do it again, Miss Ceci," begs Nunnally. But Miss Ceci shakes her head.
"Let's do it again next time. It would be a sight to behold for the four of us to huddle together in the middle."
Rolo appeals, "But Mr. Lamperouge will be sad!"
As if to prove the boy's point, Mr. Lamperouge clutches his chest and acts hurt. "Indeed, I would be very melancholy for a thousand years. Please, will you spare me some of your light, oh, Moon?"
"Moon?" Ceci repeats while Nunnally says, "Oh, I know."
All of them turn to her and the attention only fuels her drive to make her suggestion. Because it is a brilliant suggestion. Something that she is really proud of because it will solve their problem. With a confident smile on her face, she declares, "We don't need to embrace, we just have to hold hands."
"I was about to say that, too!"
Nunnally and Rolo quickly hold hands - an act so natural and common for them like trees having leaves. Meanwhile, it doesn't escape their notice how the two adults before them is suddenly filled with hesitation. Their gazes clash then avoid each other until they land on the space between them - waiting to be bridged by flesh and warmth. Miss Ceci wears a forced smile on her face while Mr. Lamperouge's is on a grimace. A palpable tension that is beyond the twins' experience and comprehension permeates the air which they mistake as something that would preempt Nunnally's suggestion. So immediately, they do an intervention.
"I'll stand between you two so Nunnally and I are both holding your hands."
But through this innocent act, as their hands connect with each other, they unintentionally break the string of desire that has been wrapping itself around the governess and the artist. And without their knowledge, two hoping people are left disappointed by their pure way of resolving a problem.
Well, this sucks.
He wasn't able to dance with her and now, she has accompanied the twins to their rooms after excusing themselves from the party.
Of course, that little act earlier doesn't count as a dance. Hell, he wasn't even able to hold her hand. And now, he's back to where he was before, people-watching. Good grief! Look at him getting all annoyed because of such mundane reason! But it isn't as mundane as it was before, isn't it? He lifts his right hand and watches as he opens and closes it.
He had felt it before, her hand through his fingertips as they shyly stood infront of her door for several nights and it was like touching a sharp crystal - dangerous, heart-racing but oh so, addicting. Her palm is soft as a petal and her fingers slender like candles.
It is different during the night when there's no other people to worry about - when rules are forgotten and desires are met. There's something in the cold breeze that passes through the corridors of the mansion that makes them loosen themselves and forget about the gap between their statuses. Something in the quietness of the kitchen that makes them whisper their dreams and beliefs openly which they cannot do during the day. Something in the dim light of the candle that illuminates and magnifies everything around them - her eyes, her smile, her heart.
It is very much different at night that it feels like a dream.
However, ever since this day started, they had acted like mere acquaintances who didn't know each other's insights in order to act like good adults infront of everybody. He still cannot claim that he knows everything about her. In fact, he is certain that he hasn't reached the deepest part of the well yet when it comes to her story.
And he wants to know more. He wants to hold her hand under the sunlight.
Lelouch frowns at his sappy thoughts and quickly puts his hand inside his pocket.
"Mr. Lamperouge?"
Ah, here we go again. The voice is strangely familiar yet he cannot pinpoint where and when he had heard it. Looking up, he has a polite smile ready on his lips when a similarly familiar face greets him.
"Yes?" he utters tentatively.
The woman is beautiful with her long blond hair and plump red lips. She reaches his nose - tall enough for him to gaze at her ocean eyes. Old Lelouch would probably chase her endlessly until she is smitten under his fingers. She would be one of those girls he goes out with and do reckless things to when Kallen is unavailable.
Now, the thought of merely having another more girl to add in his already chaotic romantic story even for just the purpose of pleasure makes him want to jump off a cliff.
"Do you remember me?"
Tilting his head as he carefully examines her, Lelouch narrows his eyes while trying to remember her. It would truly be humiliating if he can't when it seems like he had made a strong impression on her.
The woman laughs and good grief, that sound is very nostalgic, too. "I couldn't blame you if you don't because you were so drunk at that time but I can't accept that you could just easily forget about mauling my lips."
His mind is blank. He has left the world and has gone to Hell. Let him burn in the fires of his drunken sin.
The woman curtsies before him and suddenly there's two of her. Oh good, he is getting dizzy. How many glasses had he drunk today? He had promised himself earlier that he wouldn't drink so much so that he could properly be present throughout the party. No, this dizziness doesn't come from the wine.
She smiles and Lelouch definitely remembers her.
"I'd like to reintroduce myself. I am Annalise and my husband is not around this time."
"Would you care to explain about this?"
Ceci gasps at the unexpected voice from the equally unexpected company that suddenly appears before her. What is he doing here? He should be outside, entertaining guests and indulging to random talks aim to impress him. Is he waiting for her to come out of the twins' room all this time?
"Miss Corabelle?"
She stares at the piece of paper the viscount is holding with the knowledge that her little scheme was caught. Someone among the guests must have brought it and inquired the viscount about it. She was aware of this risk when she put these advertisements together with the invitations in the envelopes. But as the party progressed peacefully, she had grown relaxed and forgot about the possibility of having her plan revealed. This combined with Shirley's news of the shop doing beyond well.
Ceci let her guard down and it is now too late to think of excuses.
"It is what it is, my lord," she admits.
"Then how prideful of you," the viscount starts as he looks down on Ceci with those disdainful violet eyes. "To put this so carelessly with the invitations where it could be easily discovered. Is that how foolish you see me, Miss Corabelle?" He takes a step forward, intimidating. "How easy, how naïve, how… incapable?" he ends in low menacing voice, his eyes glowing with a mixture of silver malice and amethyst mockery. Ceci has to look away. She stares at the marble floor.
"N-No, my lord."
"LIAR!"
At the sound of his thunderous voice, Ceci automatically reacts with her eyes closed, "The twins are sleeping."
"I know how you turned down Mr. Kururugi's offer."
"But I only did that with good intentions – to prioritize the little masters. One month, my lord, I would be gone for a month."
"And you won't be missed. The nanny will be there and I can hire a temporary replacement for you. Certainly, I can find someone who is as good as you."
"Well, if that's the case," Ceci lifts her chin up which is a better alternative than showing the viscount how it trembles from his hurtful words. "You can release my family from the contract without any difficulty. For generations, we have been serving the Britannias. Dreams and futures were sacrificed in order to fulfil the conditions of the contract. Isn't it already enough as a payment, my lord?"
The viscount points a finger at her and says, "If this conversation is heard by your ancestors, they would be ashamed of you. They would denounce you from the family. An ungrateful woman, that is what you are, Miss Corabelle. You want to talk about 'dreams and futures'? Well, sacrifices are necessary for someone to reach his dream and desired future even when those sacrifices are done by other people for him. Your sister is indebted to you for her freedom. She is free to do whatever she likes because of you. Are you really that heartless to take away her freedom for the sake of yours?"
"Leave Shirley out of this," Ceci says through gritted teeth.
At last, the viscount leans away and it feels like being able to breathe for the first time. The tension is still there but the space, the oblivion separating them gives her the chance to find her footing again.
"You think you are clever, Miss Corabelle," the viscount begins coldly. "And indeed you are. Your cleverness had helped my children to be who they are today. But remember this, too much cleverness begets ignorance. Sometimes, the lie is right infront of you but all you see is beauty and goodness. Have a good night, Miss Corabelle."
Ceci's shoulders sag as soon as the viscount left but she doesn't allow herself to sink on her knees and make herself look weaker than she already is. Instead, she lets her feet lead her mindlessly as she tries to sniff away the tears that threaten to fall.
They never had an argument as intense as this. Most of the time, their exchanges are composed of civil and contained utterance of opposite perspectives. She doesn't know that he could be this harsh with his words leaving her to question what she had been fighting for all through these years. Her mother's tears at night, her father's joy when she visited their home, Shirley's discomfort when she was around during their early childhood. And these will all be repeated in the future generations of the Corabelles. To Shirley's first daughter for Ceci had long given up the possibility of her bearing a child, of her being a married woman. And she cannot allow it anymore.
It's not as if she would leave right away after she is given freedom. She will stay as long as the twins need her, after all, they are one of the reasons why she wants to live. Ceci considers them as her own and no mother will leave their children behind carelessly. But, the contract will end with her.
Without her knowing, she already reaches the vacant kitchen and it is such a fitting place to arrive to after the chaos for this is her safe haven. Hurried steps echo outside and she turns around to check the situation but suddenly Mr. Lamperouge is right infront of her, backing her until her spine hits the wall, encasing her head in his arms, eyes wide and panicked.
"My apology, but could you put your hands in my hair and act as if you're gripping them? Just for a little while," he whispers.
She complies and his face is so close, he is so close, too close that she can see the small mole beneath his left eye, inhale the faint smell of wine and feel his long fringe against his cheek. The small light from the candle accentuates his high cheekbones and tall nose.
He is beautiful – so achingly, unearthly beautiful. The beauty that she needs to mend the confusion in her heart.
Her grip tightens and she kisses him.
From the background, she hears a woman calls, "Mr. Lamperouge? Mr. Lamperouge? Are you here? I just want to know you again. Mr. Lam – Oh, goodness! I'm sorry! I'll be leaving now. Good gracious, where did that man go?"