"Announcing his Imperial Highness, 11th Prince of the Empire, Lelouch vi Britannia!"
The throne room's great doors were tall and broad enough to easily accommodate a Knightmare frame, yet through the use of a sophisticated pulley system they could be swung open or shut mere moments after the Emperor's command, or that of his chief of staff, the Duke of Mexico, Lord Wilfred Samuel, who had carefully constructed the Emperor's list of audiences for the day.
Looking down his monocle at the young prince in the doorway, a great sigh of displeasure rose in his chest as he realized the boy was not one of them. He took a knee just beside the Emperor's throne, and was about to speak before Charles held up a gloved hand, murmuring quietly, "No, Samuel, I have a feeling this will be quite entertaining."
Charles kept his stern, no-nonsense expression, but inwardly he was simultaneously beaming with pride and salivating with anticipation. Was his own son really going to march in here and boldly accuse him of murder to his face, in front of the entire court? If he was, Charles had half a mind to promote him to the first heir to the throne right then and there- and the other half would insist that he could not afford to jeopardize his plan, and that Lelouch ought to be silenced immediately.
As Lelouch's dress shoes came to rest at the foot of the first step to the throne, the boy's statement would cause the Emperor's building anticipation to deflate sadly.
"Your Majesty, the Empress has been murdered."
How disappointing. He wasn't going to dare, after all. It still might be interesting, though. The boy just needed the proper... goading. After all, Charles had been in his situation once. He knew exactly what would set the boy off... Indifference.
"What of it?" Charles would rumble. The Emperor was trying so hard not to let Lelouch see his twinkling eyes.
Yet Lelouch, much to Charles's slightly annoyed surprise, did not take the bait.
"I merely wish to state, before the whole court, that whomever is responsible will be hunted down, and when they are found... they will pay dearly." Lelouch replied, turning his withering glance back to the right wing of courtiers, some of whom shied away from that gaze. Later, there would be stories swapped in the haze of smoke-filled gentlemen's parlours and the sickly-sweet stench of ladies' powder rooms about how the boy had had a malevolent leer on his face that was like looking into the eyes of the Devil himself.
"Yes," the Emperor replied. "I should hope that they will. But what, may I ask, does this have to do with me?" Charles lifted his chin, glancing downward at his son.
"The investigation, Your Majesty. It was blocked from proceeding by your order. I wish to know why." Lelouch replied. Calm. Calculating. Utterly infuriating. Why wasn't he frothing at the mouth already at Charles's indifference? Charles knew the boy suspected him. He never had thought Lelouch would be capable of facing him without anger, especially after what Charles had done to his sister... Why was he keeping his composure!?
"That is a matter of national security and is not for the ears of the court." Charles replied succinctly, his expression souring. This was the absolute worst reply he could give for the ears of the public, he knew. He wished he'd come up with a better reason when he'd ordered the investigation blocked, but that one was the only one he knew that was guaranteed to work...
"Then, may I hear it in private?" Lelouch inquired further.
Charles paused, his eyes briefly glancing upward, as if in thought.
"No."
Why the hell wasn't his son going berserk yet!? Who had coached him for this? Who was elucidating his strategy? Lelouch didn't sound like the melodramatic spoiled brat he knew as his eleventh-ranked son... He was starting to sound more like...
"Your Majesty, I should think it is my business to know."
"You should think more carefully, Lelouch vi Britannia, especially before you interrupt my schedule to ask me inane and pointless questions. Being her son does not entitle you to any special investigative privileges. On the contrary, it places you in a conflict of interest. You will wait for the official investigation's report like everyone else."
Schneizel. The Emperor briefly realized that there was one other person who could smooth-talk him into doing something he hadn't wished to do at first like this... and someone who had been somewhat close to the boy as well... That little brat had to have been put up to this by that blonde fop! If only Schneizel wasn't such a damned perfect heir to the throne, he'd have half a mind to...
"If that is your wish, Your Majesty. May I take my leave?"
FUCK! No one had made Charles curse inwardly for years, but he couldn't believe it. He'd only just realized that he hadn't just thwarted Lelouch's goals, he'd fulfilled them. His son's sole intent was to show to the court that the Emperor had something to hide, and to stoke the fires of gossip even further. Charles knew that many suspected him, but the fact that he was the one who had blocked the investigation and was having the official report censored was not public knowledge yet...
"... You truly wish to know the reason, do you, boy?" Charles could salvage this yet.
"No, Father, I have already heard enough. I hear and obey, Your Majesty." The words couldn't sound more loving and genuine, but Charles knew they were the bitterest sarcasm the prince could muster.
"So, not only do you come in here to waste my time with questions, your mind is not even made up about what you want from me. Lelouch, you are still a child, and unless you learn from what has happened to your mother and your sister, you will always remain one. I don't ever want to see your face again until you have done something that is worthy of my attention."
"I plan to, Your Majesty." Oooh. His son was good. Schneizel couldn't have prepared him for that... The perfect counter to his lecture. Neither denying his insult nor accepting it. Merely saying, in so many words, just you wait.
"Get out." Charles grunted.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Lelouch rose and turned on his heel, practically walking on air out of the throne room. A verbal chess match with his father, and the stakes couldn't have been higher. And he'd come out on top. Or at least, as close to victory as a Prince could attain over an Emperor... without resorting to drastic measures...
Lelouch smirked to himself as the doors slammed shut behind him and he made his way out into the Upper Gardens of Pendragon Keep.
Drastic measures... there would be a time for those, but it wasn't today. Now, it was off to thank Schneizel for his brilliant adv-
HRGHUGLGKKK!
Everything went black, and the dark new world smelled faintly of lilacs and leather.
He awoke in a daze with a pounding headache what seemed like hours later, but from the fact that he was still standing in the same spot he'd left the world in and staring at the same view, it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.
"-put everyone in danger, our whole plan, our whole contract, I guess it didn't mean a damn thing to you, did it!? You just had to have your little satisfaction too!" A stern voice lectured him, and an iron grip tucked him into a headlock. "How dare you, Lelouch?! Without telling me? Do you have any idea of the damage this is going to do to our investigation? He could have us killed!" Cornelia hissed down at his ear, holding him tighter.
"He won't." Lelouch grunted, his face darkening until it was nearly purple. "gonna black out 'gain..."
"Again!? Oh, god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Cornelia's grip slackened a bit, and precious oxygen once again made it to the boy's brain, his view of the world brightening and clarifying soon enough. "But I can't believe you did that! I can't believe you're so confident that things will just work out all right! Where in the hell did you learn to think like that?"
"I suppose it was from you, sister."
Cornelia released him at that statement, thinking about it for a moment, before bending down to come face-to-face with him and glaring harshly into his eyes.
"You can't possibly be talking about chess? Lelouch, that's a BOARD GAME! You're playing with your own sister's LIFE here!"
Lelouch's voice caught in his throat as he just realized the truth of this. When he'd considered the game "high stakes", he had only considered his own life in the equation, and briefly, he hung his head as he considered the possible consequences that might have befallen him if he'd misspoken... but it had gone perfectly...!
"... I... hadn't thought of it like that, Cornelia... but I had to see his face." Cornelia blinked. "Just once. To look into his eyes." Lelouch looked up into Cornelia's face, and a look of understanding seemed to slowly spread along her features. "... I think you're right." Lelouch added. "He's got something to hide... but I think Mother's death wasn't part of his plan, whatever it is. He didn't kill her."
"You seem pretty sure of that, Lelouch. Just from seeing his face...?" Cornelia's expression had changed from admonition into tentative curiosity.
Lelouch nodded, definitively. "It's almost the same look that was on yours, Cornelia."
"Almost...?" A raised violet eyebrow.
"Well, he was lying about something." Lelouch furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. "I just know it. But I'm not sure what."
Cornelia was silent for a long moment, before letting out a heavy sigh and standing up fully. "Lelouch, the doctors say Nunnally's condition is improving. They ran some tests this afternoon, they say the odds of her waking up within the next few days are close to 90 percent. I think you ought to stay with her and Euphie for at least the next few days."
Lelouch nodded, his eyes flicking toward the pavement of the garden path. "... maybe it's better if I'm not there... I don't think I could comfort her like Euphie can. I'd just... I... I don't think I can..." Lelouch's voice squeaked slightly, and the boy had to blink back a few tears, much to his eternal humiliation. "How am I supposed to... How am I supposed to tell my sister that she'll never see Mom again...?"
The words sliced coldly into Cornelia's heart, and a bittersweet- mostly bitter- memory resurfaced...
...
"... who's there?" Victoria li Britannia croaked, lifting a shaky, withered hand to shield her hypersensitive eyes from the harsh light of the hospital hallway. "Hygeia, is that you...? Have you brought my riding gloves? I feel dreadful today and I think a good ride over the grounds is just the thing for me... Have Normandy saddled for me, will you?"
Normandy, Victoria's favorite horse, had been dead for nearly six years. Hygeia had been one of Victoria's maids- and she hadn't been part of the staff for four. The young teenage girl standing in the door, eyes puffy and still trickling with tears, with stringy violet hair and a haunted, pained expression, carried a tray of the hospital's very finest porridge- the only food Victoria could reliably keep down anymore, and even that was a fifty-fifty chance- beside several containers of pills.
"Mother, it's..." she began with a heavy heart, knowing that it would end as it usually did, "it's me... Cornelia... your daughter. I've brought you your supper."
"Cornelia...?" Victoria leaned in, the papery fabric of her hospital cap- Cornelia had insisted on covering her mother's head once she'd gone bald after far too many mornings where Victoria threw a fit and injured herself upon seeing her reflection- crinkling as she moved. She raised a hairless eyebrow. "Nonsense, girl, you don't look anything like my daughter. How dare you? Get me Hygeia, you wench, and get out of my sight. I don't want any of your horrid cooking. I want to go riding."
"... I'm terribly sorry, my lady, it was an awful joke." Cornelia barely whimpered. Each time she served her mother a meal, she hoped and prayed that she would be recognized, just once... but the inoperable baseball-sized tumor had ravaged too much of her brain, stolen too much of her memory, her personality, her strength... The first time her mother hadn't recognized her, she'd prayed it was a fluke, and for a few days, it seemed that it was... but then it happened again, and again, and more often until the times she wasn't recognized were more often than the times she was. Five weeks ago had been the very last time Victoria had recognized her daughter, and after a few too many heartbreaking tirades from the duchess, Cornelia had finally begun to play the part of one of her mother's maids... She'd stopped bringing the three-year-old Euphemia along to visit two months ago, when Victoria had tried to strangle Cornelia, and she thanked goodness that Euphie hadn't been in the room at the time... "Elena from the kitchen forced me to do it. I'm new here, please don't fire me..."
Her mother, though stern, was usually merciful to this plea, and it was no different this time. "... Very well, girl, but I still insist you bring me my riding gloves, I will simply not sit inside on this beautiful day." She gestured toward the window.
The shades were drawn, and it was eight o'clock at night.
"My lady, I'm afraid Normandy has split his hoof and is being treated at the veterinarian's. I am told he will be fine with some rest and ointment, but you must eat." Cornelia replied, her voice hollow, practiced, and empty of emotion.
"You seem frightfully insistent, girl, keep in mind who you are speaking to. Very well, I shall take my supper and then I shall take tea in the solarium. Call Lady Marianne and see if she will join me for another of our afternoon chats, will you?"
Cornelia leaned in to place her mother's tray on her lap, and nodded. "Yes, my lady." She pulled up a stool and began to count out her mother's thrice-daily dosage of pills into the palm of her hand- knowing what was soon to come. Victoria reached for her spoon, her hand shaking wildly as she grasped it, only for it to clatter to the tray shortly afterward.
"Oh, dear. Clumsy me... Let's try this again..." The spoon would clatter to the tray a couple more times before Cornelia leaned in.
"May I assist you, my lady...?"
"Well, I certainly don't know what's wrong with me today, but yes, just this once, mind you. Go ahead."
Cornelia closed her eyes, thanking the heavens that her mother was being cooperative today, and that she hadn't made a mess of the porridge yet... She would re-cap the pill bottles and slip the seven pills her mother required at dinnertime into the porridge, stirring it a few times before beginning to, slowly and carefully, spoonfeed her mother, occasionally reaching to cradle her mother's head when she nearly missed Victoria's lips, and handing her the glass of water to take a sip with every spoonful.
Eventually, with the bowl completely empty, Victoria's shaking would lessen a bit as the medicine began to calm her and relax her madly misfiring nerves... For an hour or so after taking her pills, Victoria sometimes almost seemed like herself again... sometimes she'd even remember that she was sick, or that she was in a hospital, or what the year was, or what her doctor's name was... but anything else... that was too much for Cornelia to hope for.
She would wipe her mother's lips with the napkin, and smile softly as her mother began to sink into a peaceful daze. The doctors assured Cornelia a week ago that at this dosage she would feel as little pain as possible while still remaining conscious, in the few weeks she had left to live.
"Well, thank you for that, dear. I still don't know..." Victoria yawned, "what's wrong with me today... but I'm feeling... much better after that..."
"Perhaps my lady would like to have a nap before her afternoon tea?" Cornelia inquired, expecting the usual response, but sometimes all she got was silence... Tonight was one of those times.
Victoria's eyes slowly fell shut, and eventually, after waiting a few moments, Cornelia would lean in and plant a gentle kiss on her mother's forehead, letting it linger a few moments before murmuring softly, "Goodnight, mother..."
As she leaned back, however, she'd see that Victoria had opened her eyes again...
"... Mother...?" Victoria inquired drowsily, confused.
"I... my lady, I..."
"... Cornelia...?" she croaked, blinking several times.
Cornelia's heart stopped.
"... Cornelia... what are you... doing here...?" Victoria reached up to weakly stroke a few strands of her daughter's hair from her forehead. "god... you're all grown up... I'm... really sick..."
"... yes, Mother, but don't worry... you're going to be just fine..." Cornelia eventually managed to stammer, leaning down to softly press her cheek to Victoria's. "I... I love you so much, Mother..."
"Like fish love the ocean, like birds love to sing..." Victoria slowly recited, the words to a lullaby she'd once sang to her daughters...
"Like..." Cornelia sniffled heavily, whimpering as the memory came flooding back to her.. "Like grass loves the ground..."
"Like bells love to ring..." For the first time in a long time, Victoria smiled. "I'll always love you, Neelie..." A name her mother had only used for Cornelia in private, and only when talking directly to her, not even allowing the staff to hear it- Feemie was Euphemia's... "I'm... dying, aren't I?"
Cornelia swallowed heavily. "... th... they think so...."
"Mmh... they're not far away, now, I can feel it. They're coming to take me with them." Victoria was still smiling as she said this, stroking the back of Cornelia's hair as her daughter began to cry openly.
"Don't go, Mother... we still need you... please don't go!" Cornelia begged, squeezing Victoria tightly.
"Oh, Neelie, Neelie...." Victoria crooned, stroking her daughter's hair sweetly. "Ssshhh... I'm not going anywhere. Don't you know... that it's only my body that's dying...? That part of me isn't important, you know... The important part of me... the part that loves you..." Victoria touched her daughter's forehead again, gingerly kissing her cheek, "that part will always be with you. And with Euphie, too... so don't cry... I'm not leaving. Just... changing. I'm staying... right here." Victoria reached down to touch her daughter's chest.
"I... I don't know if I can bear it..."
"You have to... you have to be strong for your sister, Neelie... You have to protect her. But you won't... be alone... Lady Marianne will help you. She is the strongest woman... I've ever met. And the best friend I've ever had. ... So whenever it gets too much for you... Ask her to help... and whenever you feel lonely... just look up at the stars at night, Neelie, and I'll be looking back down at you. Watching over you. For as long as you live.... till we meet again... I'll always be up there... and in your heart, too. Where is... Where's Euphie...? I'd like... I think I'd like to see her again, just one more time..." Victoria smiled gently, and Cornelia would quickly jump to her feet and dash for the door, flinging it open and turning back to look her mother in the eye.
"Please hold on just a little longer, Mother...! I'll get her here as soon as I can!" Cornelia begged, tears dripping from her jawline as she smiled openly for the first time in nearly as long as her mother.
Victoria would smile back, and nod sagely to her daughter. "Please... hurry."
...
When Cornelia returned, with Lady Marianne by her side and a sleeping Euphie- it was far past her bedtime- clinging to her back, her three-year-old sister's arms around her neck, she would enter the main doors of the hospital and come face-to-face with a wall of doctors with grave looks on their faces. Cornelia had been about to barge past them when Marianne gripped her shoulder and pinched gently. Cornelia whipped her head around to stare in fury at the woman, only to notice Marianne's ashen expression and a slight shake of her head...
"Your Highness... Your Majesty..." the lead doctor would bow slightly before closing her eyes. "... I believe it would be best... if you took the young Princess back home."
Cornelia swallowed heavily, and blinked back hot tears. "It can't be... She was just...!"
Marianne squeezed her shoulder again, blinking back a few tears of her own. "Cornelia, I'll take Euphie home... You go see her."
In disbelief, Cornelia would slowly allow Marianne to pick up Euphie from her back and cradle her sleeping sister in her arms, as the teenage princess went with the doctors upstairs to the oncology ward... Two more doctors flanked the Duchess's room, and their heads, again, bowed and their eyes closed when they spotted Victoria's daughter on her way, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. One would open the door for her.
"... Mother?" Cornelia softly inquired, still disbelieving as she entered the hospital room... A part of her mind had already noticed that the beep from the ECG machine was no longer present, nor was her mother's IV stand. But as she laid eyes on Victoria it seemed impossible to think she was dead... The Duchess looked healthier than Cornelia had ever seen her, her eyes closed as if she'd just settled in for a brief nap, a serene little smile on her lips.
"Mother... Wake up...!" Denial took a firm hold of Cornelia's psyche. She looked fine! It was impossible, Cornelia had just been talking to her! She'd gotten her memory back! There was no way her mother was dead! The doctors had to be mistaken. She reached forward to gently shake her mother's shoulder. "Wake up! ... Euphie's here, and Lady Marianne too... Everyone came to see you off...! We're all here, so you can't go yet...! Not until we..." Cornelia sniffled. "Not until I say goodbye!"
"... I'm so sorry, your Highness. We did everything we could. She went very peacefully. There was no pain..." One of the doctors murmured softly, standing behind her.
"Get the hell OUT OF HERE!" Cornelia turned around and snarled, lashing out with a backhand that just barely missed the doctor's glasses, and in moments the room's door had slammed firmly shut, and Cornelia slumped to the floor, clutching her mother's lifeless, yet still warm, hand, pulling it to her cheek and bursting into open sobs and wails. "I was too late... I wasn't quick enough... if I had just... if I had just been a little faster... Oh, Mother..."
Eventually, Cornelia's sobs would slowly wane and dry out... and she'd regain enough energy to stand... Looking over her mother's body one last time, she would kiss Victoria's hand, then her lips, nuzzling her mother's cheek before murmuring gently, "Goodbye..."
...
Cornelia barely got any sleep that night- as soon as she'd returned home, Lady Marianne was there to pull her into a nearly painful bear hug, and to hold her for several more hours as she cried her eyes out and clung tightly to the Empress, with Marianne stroking her hair and saying nothing... They'd fallen asleep together in the parlour, and when Cornelia had rubbed the sleep from her eyes that morning she thought for one delirious moment that it all must have been a dream, that her mother had never been sick and that, like many nightmares she'd awoken from in the past, she was about to realize with a flood of relief how silly the notion had been, but when Lady Marianne awoke mere moments afterward and her first action was to hug Cornelia tightly again, the undeniable memories came flooding back and a fresh wellspring of tears flooded her cheeks.
After another hour or so, Marianne had helped Cornelia dry her tears, and held her as they walked down the hall to Euphemia's bedroom... "I know it's hard..." Marianne had said softly, squeezing Cornelia's shoulder as she bent down slightly to come eye-to-eye with the teenager, "If you need help-"
"No..." Cornelia murmured with a sniffle. "it's all right... I can do it. I... I have to be the one to tell her."
"... I'll be right here waiting for you if you need me." Marianne kissed Cornelia's forehead.
Cornelia's trembling hand seized the doorknob, and turned.
...
"I know it's hard." Cornelia swallowed heavily and closed her eyes, before bending down and gently grasping Lelouch's shoulder. "If you need help..."
Lelouch was silent for a few long moments after that... but eventually he, too, would shake his head.
"No, it has to be me. I can't leave this burden on Euphie... I have to be the one to tell her... Besides... I'm sure... that I'll be the first one she wants to see when she wakes-" Lelouch started, before freezing at the realization of what he'd just said.
Cornelia shut her eyes tightly again and hugged him firmly, and Lelouch uttered a single sob before shaking his head and sniffling. "No... Cornelia... don't. I have to be strong for her." He pushed against his sister's arm, and Cornelia reluctantly permitted him to escape her grip, his hands repeatedly wiping at the corners of his eyes until he was certain no traces of tears remained. "If she can't walk, then I'll be her legs, and if she can't see, I'll be her eyes. She needs me."
"You aren't alone, Lelouch. We're here for her too... and for you."
"... Thank you, Cornelia. But this is one thing I have to do by myself." Lelouch nodded his thanks and turned his back, and Cornelia couldn't help but marvel at how much stronger the boy was at age ten than she'd been at fourteen, as she stood and watched him stride off, his crimson cape billowing... majestically, Cornelia had to admit was the word, behind him.
The thought briefly occurred to her that majesty was a quality only future Emperors were supposed to cultivate. And that, at that moment, the boy had more majesty in him than she'd ever seen Schneizel- or their father, for that matter- possess.