"We lay to rest not the body of a woman but the body of a legend. To the earth we now commit the remains of Her Majesty the 11th Empress of the Holy Empire of Britannia, Marianne vi Britannia." Cornelia spoke calmly and squarely to the small crowd assembled around the grave. She was not standing on anything, nor, naturally, did she read from any paper- these words were spoken directly from her heart. Her face was dry of tears, and only the Emperor glared harshly off into the distance, his gaze traveling directly over the head of Horace Ashford, who rested a hand upon his daughter's shoulder. Milly sniffled slightly as she clutched a limp bouquet of roses. The heat had wilted most of the flowers and yellowed the grass- it was a blistering hot summer day, with flecks of pollen thick as snowfall drifting through the Ivory Gardens, the resting place of all the Empire's sovereigns of the past millennium. As Cornelia paused, inhaling deeply and digging her fingernails into her palm to avoid showing her tears, she would realize that this was Marianne's very favorite sort of day.
"Beloved mother..." Cornelia glanced to Lelouch, looking back at her with his chin raised and a stoic expression upon his face, showing neither grief nor anger, "aunt," her gaze traveled next to Lelouch, where Clovis stood with a hand on Lelouch's shoulder and a few glistening tears in his eyes. Next to him, Schneizel had his chin tucked to his chest and his eyes closed, his hands clasped reverently behind his back, "wife," to the Emperor, who showed no change in his determination not to look at Cornelia, the casket six feet deep in the earth at his feet, or any of his sons beside him, "and friend..." Cornelia briefly touched a gloved hand, sticky with perspiration, to her own chest, before resting both of her hands at her sides and clenching them into fists in a modified position of military attention, "But above all, an eternally loyal servant of the Empire." It was only then that Charles's face would seem to soften, his gaze briefly flicking downward to the earth, knowing his wife's body was not there, but looking upon the Sovereign's Symbol cresting 'her' casket anyway.
"She served the glory and majesty of the Empire... and she made Britannia more glorious and more majestic through her service. She is an example to us all, cruelly taken from us long before her time. She will never, ever be forgotten." Cornelia knelt down to the side of the grave, extending a hand over the edge and opening it. A few eyes followed the small velvet bag that plummeted from her hand- had she been clutching that object for the entire service?- but none could discern its contents, and as Cornelia dropped it, she would speak once more. "Rest in peace, your Majesty." She rose slowly, and grasped the slender, ceremonial black shovel at the head of the grave, taking a knee once more at the Emperor's side, and turning it, like a sword, to offer the handle to him.
Charles glanced down at it, and let his gaze linger a moment before snatching it from Cornelia's grasp roughly, and, taking a wide stance, piercing the mound of earth at the graveside as if he were trying to stab it to death. It was only a moment afterward that he swung the shovel outward, throwing a heaping shovelful of earth into the grave, a noisy shower of gravel and rocks raining over the casket's exterior that made most of those present- especially Clovis and Milly- jump at the jarring, harsh sound. Dirt continued to pour down the great gouge in the side of the pile, only settling after several more handfuls of dirt and rocks had fallen down into the grave. The Emperor then stood silently a moment, turning his gaze over all of those present, as if showing his contempt for the entire ceremony, but most of all for those who were shocked at his roughness and inelegance at such a farce. He would then hand the shovel blade-first to Lelouch, casting his gaze down at the boy.
"Straighten your back, boy. This is no cause for mourning. She did the duty that is expected of all of us."
Lelouch was certain his back had already been straight, but he seized the shovel by the edge and shoulder of the blade, showing no hesitation to ruin his cuffs and soil his hands, and the Emperor's eyes all but lost their harshness for a moment- Lelouch was certain he'd imagined that part- before he lifted his chin and strode on past the boy, leaving early, as was to be expected of the Emperor- he'd already done his part.
The prince did not hesitate to scoop out another shovelful of dirt, but paused as he held it and gazed down at his mother's casket. For a moment, the thought that it was his father that had put that clod of dirt and scattering of rocks on top of her so callously nearly made him want to vomit. Irrationality clouded his mind, and he forced himself to close his eyes and merely tilt the shovel sideways, allowing his clump of soil to fall limply into the chasm, and very nearly allowing the shovel to fall in after it if it hadn't been for Cornelia kneeling down to steady his trembling arm.
His eyes opened once more and he would thrust the shovel in Clovis's direction. The Third Prince would be somewhat shocked to observe that Lelouch's expression was nearly identical to that of his father mere moments ago, and he was even handing him the shovel by its blade, as well, before Cornelia would take it by the center of the shaft and remove it from Lelouch's grasp, turning it about and handing it over in such a manner as to give the appearance that she was merely assisting him, instead of correcting him.
Clovis, then Schneizel, did their part with solemnity and dignity, and Cornelia had been about to do the same, trying to force herself not to look down, but when she caught a glimpse of that perfect royal blue color and that symbol, stained and buried under filthy tendrils of earth, Cornelia felt a sense of utter revulsion rising in her throat. To throw dirt on her beloved Lady Marianne...? On that symbol that represented everything she was? It was impossible. She couldn't do it.
As she stood there, gazing downward with a look like a deer in the headlights, Lelouch would notice, and move closer, murmuring quietly so that only she, and perhaps Schneizel who had moved a bit closer, perhaps to do the same thing, could hear.
"That's not my mother anymore, Cornelia. That's just a box."
Just a box. And just a body, inside of it. It wasn't Lady Marianne anymore.
Not the important part of her, anyway, Cornelia reminded herself, working to swallow a sniffle as she threw her clump of dirt down into the hole, and made her way around the edge to hand the shovel to Lord Ashford, the man's moustache visibly drooping in sorrow as he bowed his head to the princess and moved to do the same. Milly would set her bouquet by Marianne's gravestone before troweling in a small amount, and then afterward the Imperial Undertakers, their black and crimson-striped uniforms crisp and impeccable, their motions precise and rehearsed, would step in to take the places of the mourners and begin the solemn task of filling in the rest of their Empress's grave.
...
The elderly lord, expectedly dignified in appearance, would hold up two impeccably gloved hands to quiet the reporters flocking the podium, the gavel-and-warhammer symbol of the Imperial Ministry of Justice embroidered into the navy-blue flag hanging behind him.
Reaching to his pocket to dab at his forehead with a handkerchief, he would then clear his throat.
Three hundred miles distant, Lelouch sat on a stool while Cornelia rested her chin in her hands, their siblings asleep down the hall and the television's volume turned down quite low. Although the young prince looked hopeful, there was only weariness and pessimism in Cornelia's expression. She knew what was coming.
"After an exhaustive investigation of all possible leads, the Ministry of Justice has concluded that the assassination of our beloved Empress was the sole act of the terrorist group..."
Lelouch slammed a fist on the counter, while Cornelia hung her head.
"...calling themselves the Anatolian Liberation Army, acting in retaliation for what they perceived to be the late Empress's part in the conflict..."
The television blackened and fell silent, Cornelia hurling the remote control with a whump into the cushions beside her.
"Let's get to bed, Lelouch. We knew this was going to happen."
Lelouch continued to scowl, turning his gaze slowly over to his sister and nodding lightly.
"I just need a glass of water first."
Cornelia returned his nod and closed her eyes, standing and stretching out a moment, trying to calm those ugly feelings that had just threatened to boil over inside of her. She would nearly disappear from Lelouch's sight as the boy moved to fill a glass from the filter inside the door of the refrigerator, when she spoke, standing there in the hallway.
"We will get them, Lelouch. They'll pay. I s-"
"Don't swear it, Cornelia." Lelouch snapped. He was silent for another moment, eventually softening his tone. "You don't need to. I believe you."
"I'll see you in the morning, Lelouch."
"Goodnight, Cornelia." He began to tilt the glass, taking a few gulps of water that tasted bitterly under his tongue, despite the fact that he knew it didn't really taste like anything at all.
A glint on the counter caught his eye.
...
Cornelia pressed her fingertips firmly to her temples as she leaned against the doorway of Euphemia's bedroom, looking in on her sleeping sister, permitting herself to smile slightly as she noticed the dark puddle of drool on the otherwise atrociously bright pastel-pink pillow on which her cheek rested. Shaking her head slightly, she would move into the room and bend over the bed, grasping a handkerchief from the cabinet and taking a gentle hold of Euphie's cheek, lifting it enough to dab away some of the mess and guide her sister slowly onto her back.
Thunk-whirrr. What in the hell was...?
Cornelia sucked in a half-gasp.
That was the garage door!
...
Ditching her slippers on the steps, Cornelia bounded through the dew-slick grass barefoot, intent on throwing herself across the driveway into Lelouch's path, but she skidded and fell halfway there- by the time she picked herself up, the crimson taillights of her car were out the gates and headed far into the distance.
It only took her a moment- after considering that calling for the guards would reveal that she herself was the one who'd taught him to drive and, in effect, given him the keys through her own negligence and stupidity- to throw away all consideration of that and remember that this was her brother's safety she was balancing these considerations against.
Hobbling back into the house on a twisted ankle, hissing with every other step, Cornelia reached for the emergency buzzer and slammed a palm onto it.
...
"I hope you'll forgive me for saying so, Commander, but-" the guard began, as he grasped the wheel tightly with both gloves.
"I am not your commander anymore, Jeremiah. Please refrain from calling me that." Cornelia glanced at herself in the passenger-side mirror and noted several grass stains on her cheek. Attempting to wipe them away with her sleeve merely resulted in an ugly smudge. Oh, well. "I don't know where he thinks he's going, but we need to find him before he gets hurt."
"How well would you say you taught His Highness to drive, Lady Cornelia? If that's... That is, if that's not-"
"His skill isn't the problem. He's still too short to reach the damn pedals. I told him that, I forbid him from... Ugh, I'm so stupid!" Cornelia put her face in her palm, and eventually smoothed her hair back and returned to scanning the road, leaning forward on the dash.
"... As I was trying to say before, Lady Cornelia, I don't blame the boy after the Lord Marshall's press conference tonight. Everyone knows that it's-"
"Can you please focus on the task at hand, Jeremiah?" Cornelia snapped, continually checking in the car's blind spots as well- constantly terrified that she'd see ambulance or fire truck sirens in any direction... "He didn't take his phone, either."
"I don't expect that he would... Just where might he be-"
"LOOK OUT!"
Tires squealed, and the bulk of Jeremiah's staff-car swerved sideways, narrowly missing the rear bumper of Cornelia's car, its passenger side wholly crumpled against the divider that separated the highway off-ramp from the highway itself. At this time of night, there were only a few cars on this road that was accessible only to the nobility, one of which whizzed by without any care for the apparent two-car pileup that was now nearly blocking the exit to the Aries complex.
Both doors of the staff-car flung open simultaneously, and Cornelia nearly leapt upon the cabin of her wrecked vehicle, her eyes wide and bloodshot with panic as she tore through the airbag and frantically called for her brother. "Lelouch!? Lelouch, are you- He's not in here, thank God..." Cornelia gasped as she found that the driver's seat- as well as the passenger seat and the rear- were fortunately empty.
Jeremiah, meanwhile, had stood back at first, and as Cornelia looked to him, he pointed over toward the sidewalk, where a visibly shaken but otherwise unharmed Lelouch sat staring at his shoes and hugging his knees.
"Lelouch! Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?!" Cornelia rushed forward, crouching down to inspect her brother, but only received a grim shake of his head to her last question.
"N-... No... I'm not... but..."
"But what?" Cornelia briefly took his hand into hers, turning it over and inspecting him for injuries. "Jeremiah, call an ambulance." The guardsman was already ahead of her, holding the phone next to his ear as he spoke with the local operators.
"I'm not injured, Cornelia. ... but your car..."
"It's just a damn car, Lelouch, I can get another one." Cornelia huffed, as she stood, satisfied that Lelouch was all right.
"but aren't you angry...?"
Cornelia put a hand to her forehead, inspecting the totaled remains of Lady Marianne's gift to her on her seventeenth birthday, and shook her head. "I am, yes, but it can wait. I'm glad you crashed it before you got out on the freeway, at least. This was almost so much worse."
Once again, Lelouch knew that apologizing now was pointless, so he weakly stood, still looking firmly at the ground.
"Jeremiah, ask them to hold the ambulance, please. We just need a tow truck." Cornelia sighed and ran her hand wistfully over the unblemished hood of half of the car, well-aware that no matter how nice the left side still looked, the car was as good as scrap now... Eventually, however, she'd turn back to face Lelouch, and brush her knuckles against his cheek.
"Take Lelouch back home before anyone finds out about this. I'll stay to see her off." Cornelia ordered the guard, who would nod and begin to salute out of instinct before stifling it and holding the door of his staff-car open for the young prince. Lelouch glanced back at Cornelia one last time before marching shamefully into the passenger seat.
As the staff-car sped off, Cornelia rested an elbow on the hood of her car and sighed mournfully. "Guess this is the end of the road for you, girl..."
...
"May I ask where you were going, your Highness?" Jeremiah flicked his gaze to the shaken and humiliated prince sitting in the passenger seat.
"I don't know. Jeremiah, was it? I just needed to get out of that place. It feels... It feels wrong without her." Lelouch stammered, finally resting his elbows on his knees and his forehead against his palms.
Jeremiah was silent a long moment, but eventually, as he was slowing to make a turn back onto the main winding road to the gates of the villa, he spoke.
"It's not just this villa that feels wrong without her, Lord Lelouch. All decent and honorable Britannians mourn her loss. ... I did not know your mother, Lelouch, she merely said my name a few times- ... I do believe she complimented my haircut once. But even so, she was someone whom I will sorely miss. No matter where you go, you will never find the peace you seek until time passes and your sorrow heals. And there are people here in this home that need you now more than ever. ... And I am not just talking about Lady Nunnally." Jeremiah gave a brief nod back over his shoulder, and as Lelouch observed, it took him a moment to comprehend the meaning of the gesture.
"Cornelia? ... But she'll hate me now. I crashed her car. I disobeyed her. ... worst of all I made her worry like that...." Lelouch swallowed, remembering the sheer panic in Cornelia's eyes- a look he'd never seen before, though he might have caught it if he'd been looking hard enough that day...
It was a look he'd eagerly sought in their chess matches, but he never thought he'd see it like this... or that he'd feel so badly when he did.
"She worried like that precisely because she does not hate you, Lelouch, because she cannot hate you. ... She'll be upset, yes. I would, too. That was a very nice automobile, and it was your mother's gift to her, three years ago..." Jeremiah glanced wistfully over at Lelouch as the staff-car rolled to a halt and fell silent, save for the faint whine of turning flywheels, at the circular driveway that led to the villa's front door.
"Mother gave that to her? ... God, she should hate me. I'd hate me." Lelouch pulled at his hair, his face screwing up in overwhelming shame at what he'd done.
"But Lady Cornelia was right. In the end, no matter how precious it seems, it's just an object. What's truly precious are the people who are still alive- and the memories we cherish of those who are gone. It seems impossible now, I understand, but you should know that your mother would want you to remember the happy times you had together as a family- not to focus on her death, but on her life. It is true that you are the man of the house, Lord Lelouch, but... I don't think Lady Marianne would want you to become a man any sooner than you have to." Jeremiah even found himself with a wry smile on his face as he reached over to clap the prince firmly upon his shoulder.
"So I'm not in trouble, then...?" Lelouch inquired, mystified.
This forced Jeremiah to let out a breathy, astonished chortle. "I wouldn't go that far, your Highness. But that's up to Lady Cornelia to decide, and I'm sure she will want a good night's rest beforehand. So your sentencing will have to wait until the morning. In the meantime, she instructed me that you are to go directly to bed. And whether or not she has resigned her post, she will always remain my Commander, and I will obey her orders to the letter. So, respectfully, your Highness..." Jeremiah slipped out of the driver's seat, moved around to open Lelouch's door, then slammed it shut behind him and grasped the prince by the collar of his nightshirt.
"March."