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Chapter Five:
Concerning everybody's safety, Anya knew full well how to pilot a monstrously-sized mecha.
However… she was not that partial to the idea of discretion.
The other elegantly-masked guests shielded themselves as she landed the Lancelot inside the tower-high gates.
Smoky-white exhaust fumes swirled around objects and people within a three foot radius. As Suzaku slapped a hand to his forehead in exasperation and scrambled out of the giant mecha, the pink-haired girl in the red schoolgirl uniform waved halfheartedly to him from the cockpit.
Suzaku waved back uncertainly as she took off, roaring into sunset sky.
He then simpered at the windblown nobles as he passed to enter the palace (thankfully, the effects of the disguising spell on him made them more concerned for their appearance than him). Suzaku made sure his copper-brocade eye mask was firmly in place before handing his invite to an uninterested guard.
It was a nice change from reality actually… The ballroom dancers made eye contact with him and did not comment on his skin color, or rather did not say much to him… only smiled politely. He observed Kallen across the chandelier-lit grand chamber talking to her father animatedly, fingering the rod end of her beaded, silver Venetian mask. Despite her frequent and public negative opinions on these extravagant affairs, she looked very much at home in her nobility with her red locks fastened up with diamonds and waltzing with her noble parent with a practiced, ladylike stride.
"Aren't you a sneaky little boy?" A sudden, hot burst of air blew into his ear as a low, saccharine voice spoke into his left ear to interrupt his train of thought, "…Is this your first time at a party like this?"
Suzaku felt his entire body clench up. He backed away, clapping his hand over his accosted ear. The immortal being at fault smiled in a clearly fake 'innocent' manner. She had pulled her wild green hair into a French twist and contrasted it with a bleeding-eye red ballroom gown, a single string of black pearls pooling at the crest of her reasonable cleavage exposed by her round jacket bodice.
She pressed her face wordlessly into the brown fur of the straggly-looking cat nestled in her arms.
Suzaku narrowed his eyes at the scarred ears. "Have I seen him before…?" he asked.
"His name is Arthur." The witch said informatively, her unsympathetic, amber eyes peering through the eye pieces of her burgundy half mask trimmed with gray feathers, "And he doesn't like you." To accentuate her point, the kitty batted its paw ferociously at the green-eyed boy and hissed quietly.
The sounds of horns and trumpets signaled the noise level in the room to lower.
A second or two of looking away to the musicians allowed the woman to disappear like a flipping ninja into the crowd of jewelry, waistcoats, and various shapes and sizes of womanly cleavage. The rest of the guests bowed expectantly — he followed suit after a moment — as the Britannian Royal family made their way into the masquerade from one of the double doors nearby, adorned and vibrant in different textures of colored silks and rich velvets in their outfits.
To Suzaku's side, a pinched-faced couple whispered behind their hands. "…what a disgrace…"
"…unable to produce multiple sons to heir…"
"…embarrassing excuse for a Prince to our glorious nation…"
He grated his teeth, moving away from the gossipers as the nobles went back to dancing and conversing.
The King and Queen walked together, hand-in-hand, up to their thrones as their children dispersed within the groups of the guests.
Suzaku's view pinned on one of the slimmer and taller daughters glancing at her surroundings with undisguised mortification. Her waist-length, straight hair swayed over her pale, white shoulders. Her very long and piled, ruffled dress matched the softness of her black hair.
As if it was a magnetic pull, her wide, violet stare picked him out. Her bare mouth slipped open. She came at Suzaku in a whir of dark, supple cloth — hustling into two waiters who sniffed displeased — and her skinny, gloved arms clasped him around the neck, yanking Suzaku's face into her hair.
The story's protagonist processed three very important facts in the span of that moment:
...It was not a woman but a man who had ran across the room to hug him in front of everyone.
...It was a beautiful man at that.
...His cross-dressing Prince Charming shook like he was crying.
Lelouch buried his hands into the back of Suzaku's suit, his contorted face buried deep into the other boy's front.
"This is an order from your prince, damn you; you will survive… no matter what happens…"
Suzaku murmured, tightening the hug, "Yes, my Prince."
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"I'm tempted to ask, your Highness..." He addressed the changing room's three-panel door, the sounds of the masquerade slightly muffled from the distance in the candlelit corridor. Suzaku stood facing away, unable to quell the growing grin that made his voice sound amused, "What was the dress for, anyway?"
To answer him straightaway came the thud of an airborne shoe thrown against the door's oval window.
Not alarmed by it, he lifted his back from the wall when the door opened, Lelouch complaining as he passed him in the dark of the corridor, "It was punishment."
"Ah…" Suzaku knew he was pushing the limit to Lelouch's temper but couldn't resist the urge to tease him. "In any case, you looked remarkable. The dress was not within my usual tastes but…"
The sentence stopped dead as they approached the back garden of the castle. Hanging lights glimmered from above them, shaping everything into a warm, earthy glow. Lelouch's own cheeks were warm — whether it was at the previous comment or the fact that the other boy was now gaping at his attire was left unknown. "Your frankness is… appalling sometimes," Lelouch mumbled, slipping on his own glittery-white Columbina Cordone eye mask over his face.
Suzaku — for the lack of a better word to describe it himself — was awestruck.
The Britannian prince wore a similar suit to his but a pure, gleaming white under the lights, a black, tucked in cravat, and a red brooch at the center of the neck-fabric. Something about how his ensemble draped to his slender, mannish frame… about how snug it folded to the narrow of his waist… the dress was no match.
The pleasurable feelings in Suzaku's stomach that returned whenever Lelouch was nearby were beginning to overtake his chest and he was finding himself quite breathless and Suzaku wasn't sure what to do about it. He was suddenly terrified of the beautiful, violet-eyed creature in front of him.
"Wow."
Lelouch's expression twisted into a half pout, half sneer.
"Stop making me a fool, Suzaku. I demand it." He said doubtfully, hunching his shoulders together, "What is the matter with you?"
"I don't know." As soon as the breathless words left him, his body moved on its own account. Suzaku's hands found those shoulders and pulled them close to him as his mouth slowly roamed over Lelouch's, planting one small, clumsy kiss after another. Through his half-slit eyelids, Lelouch looked both horrified and amazed to be trapped in Suzaku's arms. At the last, lingering kiss, Lelouch's moistened lips mimicked it back to his mouth. A familiar rhythm... like running in the marketplace...
"The guards..." The prince whispered with a worried tone, chest heaving, one of his hands tangling to Suzaku's loosened cravat.
"...don't worry about it. They're not paying attention to us." Suzaku smiled, for once thankful for the pinching, enchanted slippers on his feet. "...Just trust me."
"Lelouch! Lelouch!"
The black-haired boy took the opportunity to slip from him, combing his fingers through his mussed hair as a tall, iris-haired woman yelled to him from the inside of the castle. "Mother calls you! Do not keep her waiting!" Lelouch sighed, holding up a hand to signal for a moment of privacy.
She rolled her iris-colored eyes, marching off towards the masquerade's ballroom.
"My spirited older sister." Lelouch asked, his arrogance melting away as he gazed off to avoid Suzaku's expectant stare, "Will you be leaving soon?"
"Not if your Highness permits me to stay in your presence for a little while longer."
"Please stay—" It left him so quickly.
He blushed brightly at the emotion in his voice, more determined than ever to not know how Suzaku must have been looking at him. "..."
Suzaku hid his broadening smile by bowing his head low but could not resist sweeping the feel of it to one of Lelouch's hands as he brought it to his lips. "As you wish, my Prince," he mumbled. "I actually wanted to speak to you about an important matter to this country with you while I still could."
He felt his chin being lifted gently as Lelouch nodded, eyes softening.
"And I you."
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It couldn't get more perfect than this.
No matter how hard Suzaku tried, he couldn't get this stupid, giddy grin off of his face as the company in the grand ballroom looked admiringly at their majestic Queen. She looked just like her son. The same shade of purple brilliance. Their features of curved alabaster. Their silky and dark hair.
His stomach started fluttering again at the memory of how the Britannia prince tasted...
"I have exceptional news for our kingdom! If my son and his beloved fiancée could please make their way up here to me..." Lady Marianne opened her arms to the couple. Lelouch's face was entirely devoid of comprehension or satisfaction shared by his audience or of his pleased family and members of his court. His orange-haired bride-to-be however beamed from her perch at the top of the stairs in her elegant, green ballgown.
She turned a radiant pink color underneath the attentions of the cheering nobles and clutched possessively to Lelouch's arm.
Everything began to swim in front of Suzaku's eyes.
The flutters turned into knots.
The clock tower above the thrones chimed midnight.
"It is my honor to announce the weekly matrimonial of my son Lelouch vi Britannia and Lady Shirley Fenette."
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TBC...
I MISSED THE MONTH UPDATE MARK! AGAIN! DAMN. Well, a part of it was emotionally, my writing has been disrupted. My puppy Casper died four days ago. The diabetes were hurting him too much. I'm just sorry I couldn't be there to hug him goodbye... I had to settle with saying goodbye/crying on the phone to him. ;-; It's a slow healing process. He's been a part of twelve years of my life. And I'm still weepy. But he was well loved before he went. Point is... I'm sorry I missed my mark again... and I'm glad to have everyone's patience. :DD You've all been so very kind. It's been a joy to hear your comments.