Disclaimer: I own nothing of GS/GSD. R&R please.

Chapter 27

And the world stared as he led her in, entranced.

"Athrun," She muttered, "Er- do you want to let go of my hand now?"

"No," he said from the corner of his mouth, nodding politely at the Vice-chairman of the PLANT University board who was a French Musketeer for the night, "Do you want an explanation?"

"I'll pass," Cagalli muttered back to Athrun as her train billowed behind and the sword on her hilt glinted in the night. But her face was slgihtly awkward beneath the practised smile that she wore.

'Right,' His brain scoffed, 'You only want to hold her hand. And she doesn't want to know why. Joy.'

"Du Maurier's outdone himself," they heard someone say, and they turned around to see Ezalia Joule moving splendidly down the stairs with her associates trailing behind her. They looked insipid and dull next to her, like she had effortlessly drained their splendour and their finery with just her snow-coloured gown and beautifully sharp eyes. Her neck was encrusted with diamonds, and somehow, the rubies and far more impressive emeralds, square-cut and very brilliant, were not as brilliant as the woman wearing the glassy gems but a glassier image.

He bowed; feeling compelled to even though the government was strictly forbidden from returning to their old ways of the Houses and the inner connections of the highest society, and she offered her hand to him, and he kissed it as he had been taught so long ago while Cagalli smiled politely at Lady Joule.

"You both look wonderful," she said in her mellow, careful voice, regally, inclining her head somewhat, "And to the Supreme Commander of ORB, more than that, I would say, sensational."

"Thank you, Lady Joule," Cagalli responded simply, and all the subordinates and Athrun, specifically Athrun, was entranced by her unassuming manner and delicate blush beneath, barely detectable but still existing, "You look very beautiful.."

She laughed in response, Ezalia was either being courteous or sincerely fond of Cagalli, Athrun would never know because Lady Joule was not a person who allowed these things to be known. But this was all that the back of his mind, his eyes were keen upon Cagalli, like a hawk, detecting every nuance in her voice and every delicate feature that he wanted to touch and remember.

"I was told not to go as the Snow Queen," Ezalia said placidly, "The publicists said it was too cold. So I did."

There was a slight lapse of silence as each person pondered how to respond to her, but then Ezalia granted her a rare smile that sent her heart fluttering, and for a minute, Cagalli felt the aura of charisma that had brought so many to follow Ezalia Joule.

"Come along," Athrun commanded her likewise, "The evening will soon begin."

She acceded and placed her hand in his again as he put out his hand to receive it, and feeling remarkably at ease with him, more so than she thought she'd ever be for that night, moved by his side. They made a striking couple, one entirely in jet, one in dove-white that extended to coal-grey, as if being with a man like him next to her was an influence that was more apparent than anything else in the world. Black and white, and shades of grey. A blood rose in his breastpocket, silver chains around her soft arms and lush shoulders.

Kira and Lacus were speaking to the Prime Minister of EA Berlin, and his daughter, a Russian King and Odette from Swan Lake respectively, and at the appearance of Athrun and Cagalli, they immediately ended their conversation albeit politely, and moved off.

"A pity Leon couldn't come," Athrun remarked to both of them as they headed down the wide corridors filled with both ushers, bodyguards and guests. Cagalli spotted Rainie and waved hurriedly before they turned another corner.

"Not really," Lacus replied charmingly, and Kira explained obligingly, "We decided he'd get too excited and wouldn't sleep tonight, and then we'd be in real hell."

In a matter of minutes, dinner was served, and it was pity, Caalli thought, that the key personnel were all put together and the normal soldiers in another dining hall altogether. While the finery was exactly the same regardless of rank or status, she would have enjoyed being with the more typical soldiers, listening to their casual chatter and having to answer less carefully lest the important members of the respective parliaments took offence and insult unintended.

As they passed one hall where the less prominent leaders were, mostly the assistants or the normal soldiers, Cagalli realised that they were far too close, and she would be made to sit right next to Athrun if she didn't do anything to avert the awkward situation. She was so nervous thinking of this, that she stumbled straight into Meyrin's friend, and gasped, "Sorry!"

"It's okay," Bunny-girl stammered, regaining her balance as Cagalli helped her to stabilize herself on her heels. Athrun was preoccupied with someone talking to him now, and Cagalli focused her attention on the rather pert, attractive brunette.

"You're under Barty, aren't you?" She asked mildly, holding out her hand, and looking astonished at her lack of formality but responding nicely to it all the same, the Bunny-girl extended her own hand, shook it cutely and offered shyly, "I'm Bonita Kinsley."

And Cagalli grinned," It's good to meet you, Bonita."

The girl was staring at her with obvious awe and adoration in her wide chestnut coloured eyes, and Cagalli's smile dimmed a bit, quite by sheer fact that the girl was holding her offered hand with both by now.

"My kid brother's a huge fan of yours," She gushed, almost as if Cagalli Yula Atha was a popstar of some sort, "He'd love to meet you, I know, and if it's possible-," She faltered and reddened, and Cagalli was hastened to prompt her by smiling.

"Could you visit us when you're in PLANT one day?" She ended excitedly. She was beside herself with enthusiasm, almost like those puppies that ended up falling over themselves just to get at a ball they did not particularly want, more because it was their owner offering it and teasing them.

But it was difficult not to like Bonita Kinsley, Cagalli thought vaguely, she was pretty, obviously quite intelligent if she was fit to be under Barty Robin, and immensely attractive in her bright demeanor and naturally excitable personality. So she exchanged numbers with the girl, and had to excuse herself because Athrun was signaling to her with his eyes that it was time to move on.

She tried to make a bypass so she would sit at Kira's right and in between him and a person she recognized as the EA ambassador to PLANT in a bohemian suit, complete with bronze cufflinks and quirky emblems. But Athrun somehow pulled her over to him and silently forced her to sit. She glared at him and he stared at her, coolly, impassively, but his eyes were burning.

For the rest of the dinner, she smiled at those who attempted to make conversation and spoke to those who spoke to her, politely courteously, carefully, and very genially. She was used to all this now. Athrun was a powerful presence, he answered questions with succinct replies and sharp, slightly uncomofortable questions in reply to the questions he did not want to answer.

She, on the other hand, used a slightly different approach. Only when the questions were sensed to be slightly personal or pressing, would she show the iron in her will, the slight change in her eyes that made it clear that her work changed her as a person instantaneously. And many who asked the questions she did not want to answer eventually left these, so charmed were they by her as she was now.

At a certain point in the dinner when the chatter had grown considerably louder compared to when it had first begun, she lifted her crystal goblet with one hand, the other tired and resting in her lap, weary from her unconcious gesturing during her talking. She drank a little, and then suddenly, was made aware of his touch, as he sat next to her, similarly, with one hand holding his goblet, and felt his other hand grazing the one in her lap.

She jerked wildly; almost spilling from her goblet, but managed to recover in time. His hand had frozen at this, but then, as a man across them asked worriedly, "Are you alright, Miss Atha?", she nodded quickly, trying not to look at Athrun.

His face registered nothing.

His fingers were tiptoeing across her frozen hand and measuring the width of the cold, thin band of metal around her finger that he had given her only hours ago. And her breath was becoming ragged, as if he had personally kissed her, and her eyes were darting everywhere but to him as he slowly abandoned her hand in her lap, but trailed further, perilously, and her eyes were blazing but weakened, she was perspiring slightly and resisting the urge to stab him with her dinner knife, to pant, to cry out in her ire but terrible, wanton desire to hold him and measure his broad back with her hands.

"Are you sure you're fine?" The same man asked, and she fought for control as she blushed badly. Athrun, damn him, looked totally stationary but she knew otherwise, and he looked at her with slight concern as the other man did, but she saw mischief in his eyes and a deep glint in their individual forests.

"Yes, tell us," he said with a slight drawl, it was somehow disconnected from his impassive, slightly concerned face and still shoulders, and his roving hand, all while she fought not to tremble violently.

She gasped her answer and as if satisfied, he abandoned her totally but not without touching the ring on her finger again as if some sort of cruel reminder of her obligation to them that night and he sat still, properly and totally as in control as he had been from the first place. She however, had to wait to calm herself down and remember how to breathe. The man who had inquired was looking slightly puzzled.

And she was made fully aware, as if for the first time, that Athrun was equally skilled, he was fielding questions about his job and ETERNITY's future goals expertly, and the only slip he made was when the head professor of Economics from the EA university asked him, "With such a ravishing wife as yours, sir, why did you go back to PLANT when you could have remained in ORB?"

There was a pause in their region, some of the people around them had stopped talking to hear his answer. Cagalli looked flustered, she could not help but be, and Athrun looked rather cold as he drank a little and said in a controlled voice, "She wanted me to."

"What?" the professor said in disbelief, not really trusting the implications to what Athrun's words meant. The laughter was dying down in just their region, and the air was slightly tense. 'Eat your dinner and stop being busybodies!' Athrun wanted to roar, but he stopped himself. And the awkwardness was slight, but it was enough to be detected.

"What he means," Cagalli said a little awkwardly, "Is that our obligations to both ORB and PLANT respectively are the first and foremost in the list of priorities."

The smiles erupted on their faces for those who had heard, for it was a long table filled with many people, and the chatter resumed and the professor looked impressed with her answer. She breathed a sigh of relief only when he was looking at what was on his plate rather than scrutinizing her face or Athrun's.

"Bastard," She murmured, upset, pretending to dab her lips with a napkin.

"You're welcome," he echoed sarcastically, trying to look like he was eating while bending down slightly.

For an instant, she wanted to ask him why he was being like this, but then she knew why. She had caused it, of course she'd know why.

The dessert was a bit alcoholic, and she refrained, not quite knowing why. The aftertaste, she knew though, would always be bitter.

And as the guests mingled around in droves, she found herself forgetting the torturous minutes of his touch on her, how much she loathed it but desired it, and her mind was drawn instead, to the people around her. She lost herself entirely to conversation and her smile became bright and free again.

"Princess," Dearka Elseman was saying gallantly, "You are very pleasing to the eye."

"Thank you, Captain," Cagalli grinned, "You look honorable, pirate or not."

"Arr," he said lamely in response, and she leant forward to share in his infectious laughter. Athrun, engaged in conversation with someone else, lost his concentration for half a second, and his narrowed green eyes darted to their backs, boring a hole in both, but only Dearka noticed and he waved to Athrun who reluctantly nodded back and resumed the conversation.

'You'd better stop being a prize-idiot,' Athrun told himself sternly, 'Control, remember what your father always said.'

"Where's Mirallia?"Cagalli asked, concerned with Dearka's lack of partner. Then she thought wanly to herself, 'Pot calling the kettle black.'

"With the paparazzi outside," he laughed jovially, reminding Cagalli why she appreciated his personality so much, "She likes photographing, not being photographed. But to make it up to me," He winked like the cad he was, "She's dating me every day of this week."

His parents moved by, waving to both of them, and she smiled and waved back. Ted Elseman was an older version of Dearka, cheerful and good-natured.

She left Dearka and found Shiho Hahenfuss being surrounded by a few soldiers, the more high-ranking ones, Cagalli guessed. Shiho was explaining something about acceleration drives and performance tests, but Cagalli could see that they were staring at her too closely to be cautally listening. Hearing maybe, but listening, not likely.

"Major!" She called, and a few of them turned.

'Right,' she told herself, feeling a bit lame, 'This is a military beehive,' and she added hastily "- Hahenfuss."

Shiho saluted as id the rest of the men, and Cagalli chuckled a little and approached her, not seeing that many eyes turned to atch her and half the men surrounding Shiho started preoccupying their eyes with her instead. Across the room, Atrhun watched from the corner of his eye, and thought to himself that she was often blind about these things. The man he had been talking with was also looking at her, and furious, Athrun said politely and rather coldly, "As I was saying-,"

"You know, Shiho," Cagalli said pleasantly, "You look so beautiful in this colour."

"My thanks, Princess," Shiho replied emotionlessly, but her cheeks were a bit rosy and her eyes had widened, "The people who said that this evening didn't realize that it is the exact same colour as my uniform, and they've never said that to me before."

Indeed it was the same. But the glint of diamonds on Shiho's throat and ears added to the effect and she was stunning as the phoenix she was impersonating. The diamonds, however, reminded her of Ezalia Joule, but she wisely said nothing. They spoke of the most recent developments to the mobile suits and Shiho's latest theory she had yet to test on half-solidified fuels, until Yzak Joule appeared bowing deeply to Cagalli, and she let him have her hand to kiss.

"Now if you'll excuse us," He concluded sharply in a manner that was so dinstinctively his, "I'd like to take the Major off before someone else steals her."

She grinned at him, appreciating his sharp humour and mean streak that made him so loved and hated simultaneously. But he was an intelligent, loyal man, Yzak Joule, and he had since long ago earned her respect.

"Same here," Athrun's voice sounded at her side, and she turned to see him looking at Yzak and Shiho courteously and felt his hand slipping snugly on her waist, "We're in the same predicament, Commander."

"Very good," Yzak said calmly, "So you weren't lying then?"

Neither Shiho nor Cagalli understood what this meant, but Athrun whirled her away before she could pause to ask Yzak what his words implied. He led her to an unoccupied balcony where the night veil was misting over the sky and the moon was covered, so little light protruded there. The bushes at the large overhang of the spacious balcony made it even darker, and she peered a little into the darkness, suddenly aware that it was very quiet and far away from the main halls where the chatter was still resonating with laughter and joyous smiles.

"Do you think this is fooling anyone?" He asled in a low voice, still checking to see if anyone was listening.

She loked around too; there was nobody but the two of them. The rest were still mingling around, it was an hour early before the opera started, and the conversations in the hall were still echoeing through like bells in the wind.

"I hope it is," she said rather earnestly, and he gazed at her, his eyes well accustomed to the darkness by now. With the colours Cagalli was swathed in, it seemed to him that she was vanishing into the night bit by bit, inch by inch, from her torso onwards, and to her, it seemed that he was night itself. They stared at each other, and he closed the distance between them even more.

"The slips we've made," Athrun said stealthily, "The professor noticed. Stay close to me, I believe Kira is catching on."

"Oh, but what does it matter?" She asked desperately, "In the end they'll still have to know. It's just sooner or later."

"I prefer later," Athrun told her quietly, his voice laced with some poison and pain that she could somehow still sense, "And you agreed to it, even suggested it yourself."

"I know," she said miserably, "But it's so difficult."

His eyes softened, he could not tolerate himself being harsh to Cagalli, and more often than not, it was unintentional, and he silently berated himself. Why was he asking this of her? Of himself?

"We agreed to do this," Athrun breathed near her ear, and she shivered in the night air and the caress his breath made on the fine skin of her ear, "We have to carry this through."

Because he wanted her to come so close to him, become so unafraid of him, that he would remind her how they were supposed to be and for her to know that he was helpless without her. If he caught up with her now and told her recklessly, "Say everything you said was wrong and that you still need me," she would jump back like a deer and he would lose her entirely. And now, he was banking on drawing her nearer, persuading her to remember until she would say what he wanted her to for him and for herself.

"How?" She asked breathlessly, feeling the urge to draw him closer but also for her to just get away, like some cornered prey desperate to flee.

His breath tickled her jaw now, and his hands, warm upon her bare shoulders, save for the cold chains that encased her arms, moved to shift her face to his pale face. She was strangely conscious that he was shifting a few chains as he fought to feel the skin they had previously rested upon, granting warmth to the cold lines of skin. His eyes glinted strangely, a trick of the night, she supposed, or tried to think so. And the red rose all the men had received for the evening, the same rose now in his breastpocket, caressed her skin where he was so close to touching her.

"Just imagine," he whispered, half-persuasive, half-bitter, neither really obvious in the dead of the night from where they were, "That you never forced me to leave you."

"I can't do that," she said immediately, "It's not the truth."

His eyes flashed.

"What is?" He said derisively, "All of this?"

She was silent, his words had struck correctly and she looked at him, still trying to think of a better way to handle this, to fight for control, and damn Athrun, his lips were selecting portions of her neck to kiss and although she valiantly fought for control, he was somehow forcing her to arch for both their sakes until he asked softly, his voice deep and half its normal volume, so only she would hear, "Will you do this?"

"Yes," she breathed, shallow, not trusting herself, but being forced to trust him, his fingers were tracing the edge of her ribs, so perilously near and she hated the effect of his touch and his shrewdness.

"Good," he said simply and stepped away abruptly, leaving her colder than ever and hating him suddenly. The shock of him persuading her to carry his will with the exploit of the physical reacion she had to him was like waking up after a lengthy, delirious dream to find oneself bathing not in rose petals, but in vats of thick, black blood. And the full force of why she had hated him so much hit her again and she turned away, unable to stare at him in the eye. He did not blame her or try to make her face him. He merely waited, silent, until she recovered her composure, truned back to him, and offered her hand for him to take.

The bell signaling the start of the night's performance was ringing busily, and the guests were miling off to the actual theatre. As they moved by, part of the long lines of guests, he spotted Meyrin with an olden English lady with blood-red gloves and a heavily ruffled gown which did her figure quite some justice.

"Lunamaria!" Cagalli gasped, running over and grasping her hands, "How have you been?"
"Super," the sprightly girl laughed, fondly embracing her as if they had met and loved each other forever, and her spirited eyes caught sight of Athrun and she promptly shook his hand.

"Lady Macbeth, I presume," he said with a grin, and Lunamaria nodded eagerly and held up her hands which were clad in long, red gloves.

"Out, damn spot!" Meyrin cried in glee to Cagalli, and Cagalli embraced her and they giggled like best friends, which was quite close as well, Athrun thought genially. They spotted Shinn Asuka too, who was Venetian royalty for the night, and he came over rather awkwardly but managed to speak quite civillly to all of them.

"Out for murder?" He asked Lunamaria innocently, and she smacked him on the arm and chuckled, so they didn't hold grudges then, still good friends. He eventually gave her his red rose, claiming that the flower did not suit him, and Lunamaria took it without much to say in return, but her smile was gentle and knowing, and Athrun noticed Shinn's ear tips reddening.

'How nice,' Athrun though ruefully. He soon had to excuse himself and Cagalli with an usher who was assigned to leading them to their Opera boxes. And Cagalli turned to him, her eyes shining, quite forgetting the tense conversation they had just had, and his breath became shallow again. It wasn't her nature to be tensed with him, he realised, and she, not even knowing his thoughts, said excitedly, "I never thought I'd speak to them like this again!"

He smiled sincerely and when he offered his arm, she took it, falling silent but in a very comforting manner as they were brought into the top boxes of the Opera theatre. No matter what they said about all classes equal, Athrun thought decidedly, this was no more apparent than a ghost in broad daylight.

The normal soldiers, mechanics and the engineers or assistants and miscelleaneous staff of the leaders in EA, PLANT and ORB were seated on the ground a distance away frdom the stage. As for the key political figures and the military heads, they were high above in boxes, plane views provided, the most clear sound of the performance to be.

But Kira and Lacus were to sit in another box, this one would seat Athun, Cagalli and Athrun's key personnel from ETERNITY. Yzak Joule and Shiho Hahenfuss were put in the same box, and Athrun was glad Shiho sat between Cagalli and Yzak. It wasn't like him to be so jumpy or petty, Athrun thought decidedly, just that the night was planned to be filled with unbridled conversation and some things were not meant for Yzak Joule to figure out. He was too wily and perceptive, and Cagalli too unassuming and trusting.

"Tell me, Chairman," the lady who was the chief administrative assistant was asking, "How did you meet the Princess?"

Yzak was looking strangely at them, "Pray," he said courteously with a bit of inquiry in his deceptively calm voice, "Tell us."

He stared at Cagalli, and she looked slightly nervous. Now was not the time to talk about her looking like a boy and he manhandling her and attempting to kill her with his knife, only to have her firing at him and then tending to his injuries with very little on under the blanket he had given her.

"We met during the war," Athrun replied evenly, looking at Cagalli, "Her brother is my best friend, childhood playmates, actually, so we naturally met when I was aboard the Archangel."

Vague enough and highly politically-correct. He had left out the significant defection and the attempts to murder the woman sitting next to him at that very point.

"I see," the vice-chairman echoed thoughtfully, turning his attention to them instead of ogling at some people across with a telescope each person had been given in the opera theathre, "That was the first time both of you met?"

"Yes," Cagalli said hastily, lying through her teeth. Shiho glanced at her, wondering why Cagalli looked so ill at ease.

"Love at first sight?" Shiho wondered, "Or hate at first sight?"

Yzak caught her eye and they both grimaced, fully aware that they were guilty of the latter.

"How unexpected," the lady sighed, putting a fair hand on her cheek, "With such an exciting couple as the Chairman and the Princess, I expected something more-,"

They anxiously watched her search for a word to describe them, and the vice-chairman offered graciously, "Romantic?"

"Not exactly," The lady said haplessly, "I don't have a word for it either, but something to that extent, thank you sir."

Yzak, very thankfully, said nothing. Shiho didn't either, but then she never did, so it was a bit of a relief there.

Athrun glanced at Cagalli and noticed that she was trying not to laugh at the bvlatant lies they were all telling. She was very beautiful, sitting next to him with the sword slightly adjusted for better comfort, both of them had those to handle for the full impact of dramatic effect to take place, and the chains on her creamy shoulders were slipping off in a mandatory fashion, framing the roundness of her shoulders and seeming to invite him to rest his head in the cradle between those and her jaw, just enough for his lips to feel the skin of her neck.

He cleared his throat slightly. Now was not the time to think of anything but how they would carry themselves through the night. And all the same, Athrun thought regretfully, he wished it wouldn't end, because once the magic and allure of the night was over, she would go back to ORB and he'd be forced to make his decision and leave her alone in the most absolute sense of the word.

She was fidgeting slightly, and he wondered if she was thinking about the same. He did not know that she felt like blushing every time she looked at him, but that may habe been better for both of them, Cagalli thought shamefully, lowering her head a bit. Shiho was looking at a box at the far end with her scope, and Cagalli, for curiousity's satisfaction, did the same.

"Lady Joule?" She asked quietly.

"Correct," Shiho replied as silently, eyes still trained on the particular box that contained the most well-known political leaders of PLANT, "She knows we're looking at her."

"But she doesn't have a scope with her!" Cagalli remarked, a bit surprised, and Shiho chuckled and replied calmly, "She knows the whole world is looking at her. Her posture is perfect, her smile is in place, and her head is turned towards us."

"Or Commander Joule?" Cagalli whispered, putting her scope down and glancing at Yzak. His eyes were focused on the programme, and he was reading very fast, as if to fill his boredom. She glanced at Athrun, Athrun was explaining something to the Vice-chairman.

"Maybe," Shiho answered quietly, "But she still knows somebody is watching her at least."

Then the lights faded completely and there was a collective gasp from the audience as the curtains were drawn and an orchestra in the pit began to play, the conductor graceful and skilled.

An opera singer rose from a mechanic depression in the middle of the stage and his lips parted, releasing a stream of pure sound that filled the entire hall and reverberated magnificently. They applauded, an immense, explosive sound, and he began her aria.

"German Opera," Shiho explained quietly in her signature emotionless way, "A bit different from the classic Italian Opera, but still-,"

She paused, and Yzak, Cagalli and Athrun turned to see her smiling gently, her voice filled with warmth and a slightest hint of the German accent, "My father liked this one. Die Zauberflöte-The Magic Flute."

They watched in awe as singer after singer made the entrace, backed-up by an enormous chorus and the orchestra went into a frenzy, the strings constantly played across from magnificent sweeps with vibrato to light plucking and the brasses booming splendidly or quavering beautifully depending which passages they were hearing.

At a certain point of the second act, the Queen of the Night rose and sang her aria, glittering in a blinding swarm of black jewels and a high, pointed crown resting on her head. Du Maurier had fought, singular and battle after battle, to get her to wear his design. Cagalli felt as if her blood would be drawn out into a sword from her chest, the sound resonated so much that she was irrisiestably compelled to hear it, to listen, to listen, to listen. She wasn't a trained ear, she'd forced her way out of almost every piano lesson they'd imposed on her in favour of self-defence classes and fencing, yet, she knew the basics but little more than that, but the grandiose, fast-paced tunes of the aria and the lyrical depth, Cagalli understood at least, and she knew it was an immensely difficult aria.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" She said breathlessly at Athrun. He nodded silently, looking at her.

"Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen, Hell's vengeance boils in my heart," Shiho translated simply as Cagalli looked at her with shining eyes, "Roughly, that's what it means."

"Is that it now?" Yzak said in a queer trance, a stroke of chattiness suddenly erupting, watching the opera singer attack note after note, "And this is the highlight I suppose? For the maddened Queen to sing? To induce a murder of Sarastro?"

"Correct," Shiho answered, entirely mesmerised like the rest of the box.

"I wonder then," Yzak said slyly, but all the same, in a very sharp manner, "Does anyone sing it at the court during a divorce?"

He watched as Athrun and Cagalli jerked stiff and looked at the opera singer more intensely than ever. The others were chuckling appreciatively at his comment, but that was not the crux, their reactions were not as significant to Yzak as what he was looking out for.

"No," Shiho said without any ado, her lips twitching with merriment, "But that's a consideration."

She looked at Yzak grinned at him, and he smiled gallantly at her, but his eyes were still sharp and focused on Athrun's slightly pale face and Cagalli's wide eyes. He closed his own briefly, running thought everything that he had with him, and finally pieced it; but it was an unstable jigsaw, there was little backing for it even though the pieces were nearly in place.

Not many would have noticed, but Yzak Joule was used to putting two and two together.