Chapter Six

St Darwin Boulevard, Pendragon, Holy Empire of Britannia, February 2006 ATB

Alexander fought to control his nerves.

As the black limousine delivered himself and his father to Aries Villa, the place that was to be his home, the eight-year-old boy was wracked with worries. Would he get the bowing right? Would he say the right things? Might he cause offence, or make a fool of himself?

"Compose yourself," Bismarck said from the seat opposite. "You have satisfied me that you can handle yourself. There is no reason for anything to go wrong."

"I know, father." Alexander resisted the urge to fidget. His new outfit was in the Revival style currently popular among the Britannian upper classes, essentially an eclectic mix of 17th, 18th, and even 19th century styles. It consisted of a silk shirt with ruffled cuffs, under a blue jacket with silver piping and a long white cravat. Completing the ensemble were tight white trousers and black boots reaching to his knees. His hair had been fashioned that very morning into what the twittering hairdresser had dubbed dishabille, which upon seeing it he would translate as stylishly disheveled.

He felt like a peacock. The only part he liked was the child-sized dress sword he wore at his waist. It was the privilege of his rank that he wear it, and he even knew how to use it.

"When we arrive, do exactly as I do," his father went on, his tone a little less stern than before. "The etiquette of the court is complicated, unnecessarily so in my view, but it will do you no good to make enemies or cause offense. Remember always to kneel in the presence of the Emperor, unless he bids you not to. For all others, the low bow is generally acceptable if you are not certain."

"Yes father."

Enemies? Cause offense? What kind of bear pit was he being delivered into? He knew that the Imperial court could be hazardous, for his father had told him so, but might he do himself harm with a simple misunderstanding?

"Relax." The word was as much a command as it was a consolation. "You will be with the Empress much of the time, and under her protection. She will help you to master the intricacies, and you cannot go too far wrong by following her lead. Few have the status to challenge her, and even fewer have the will; especially not over a child's innocent mistake."

"I will do my best, father."

"I am certain of it."

Alexander felt the car slowing down, and fought to hold on to the rush of warmth his father's words brought forth from his heart. He knew his father loved him, but the man's compliments were few and far between.

"Remember, do as I do."

The car halted, and a moment later the door opened. Bismark stepped out first, pausing to let his cloak hang as it was meant to, then stepped forward to make room. Alexander clasped his sword handle and, gulping down his fear, he stepped out.

Aries Villa stood before them; named for a constellation like many of the palaces and mansions that flanked St Darwin Boulevard. It was considerably larger than La Casa Pacifica, and at least as grand as any of the Shah's palaces in Tehran. The path of finely-carved stone before then ran up to a grand double-door, flanked with Grecian columns that ran all along the frontage. Liveried footmen lined the path on both sides, bowing their heads in unison.

Alexander barely had time to take up position alongside his father before the doors swung open. A woman emerged, clad in a gown of dark blue, her black hair flowing behind her as she strode towards them. Alexander saw his father bow low, and was quick to imitate him.

"Bismark, my old tutor!" Empress Marianne vi Britannia greeted them. "It's been so long!"

"Your Majesty." His father's tone was grave, but clear and confident.

"And this must be Alexander!"

"Yes, your Majesty," his father went on. "I have the honour to present my son, the Lord Alexander Bismark Waldstein, Viscount San Clemente."

Alexander remembered to bow again. He had almost been distracted by the sound of his full name. He had never imagined it sounding so grand.

"For shame, Bismark!" she suddenly declared. "Hiding this beautiful child away for so long!" She shot his father a look of disapproval that was utterly ruined by her air of obvious delight.

"I did so until I was satisfied that he was ready," replied Bismark, a little defensively. "I would not wish to..."

"Mama!"

The cry shocked Alexander out of his awkwardness. He looked up, and saw a young girl racing along the path towards them.

"Nunnally!" A boy, a little younger than himself, emerged from the doorway at a run. "Come back here!"

The girl reached the Empress, grabbing her skirts and gazing up at her with wide purple eyes. Her hair was honey-coloured and very curly, arranged into a pair of pigtails. Her dress was bright pink and very frilly, though unlike her mother's it only reached to her knees.

"I"m...I'm sorry mother!" gasped the boy, puffing and blowing as he staggered to a halt. "I tried to catch her."

"Think nothing of it, Lelouch." Marianne gave the girl an indulgent smile as she straightened up. "I don't think our guests mind now, do they?"

Something in her tone told Alexander that an answer was not required. He was not inclined to offer one in any case.

"But now, introductions," Marianne gestured to the boy. "Alexander, this is my son Lelouch, and my daughter Nunnally. Lelouch, Nunnally, this is the Lord Alexander Waldstein, Viscount San Clemente. He's going to be staying with us for a while."

The boy named Lelouch set his face into a cold mask. He was richly dressed, in a white jacket and matching trousers, with a long cravat at his throat. His black hair and purple eyes marked him plainly as Marianne's son.

"Good day, my lord," Lelouch greeted him with a formal bow. "We are honoured by your presence."

"The honour is mine, your highness." Alexander made a point of bowing lower. He heard what might have been a sigh from Marianne, but he dared not look up at her.

Then it was Nunnally's turn. The girl detached herself from her mother and toddled up to Alexander, gazing artlessly up at him, sucking on her thumb. Alexander bowed, not knowing what else to do. He had never dealt with such a young child before, let alone a little princess. He remembered what Euphemia had said, that she was only three years old, and that he should expect some silliness from her. But the advice was of little comfort.

He felt awkward.

Nunnally let out a giggle, then pulled her hand from her mouth and held it out, palm downward. Alexander shuddered at the thought of having to take it, dripping with spittle as it was. But duty was duty.

"Ah, a moment!" Marianne squatted down, and wiped her daughter's hand clean with a lace-edged handkerchief. Much relieved, Alexander took her hand and bowed again, making her giggle.

"Alas, so stiff," complained Marianne, in that same amused tone as before. "But we'll remedy that in time, I'm sure. But come now, everyone, let us repair to the parlour and discuss the future."

She made a great show of taking Bismark's arm as they proceeded up the path. Alexander fell in behind his father, and glancing to his left, saw Lelouch position himself next to him, keeping Nunnally on the outside. His face was expressionless, but there was a cold, hostile air coming off him that set Alexander's teeth on edge.

"I trust your journey was pleasant?" Lelouch asked, without turning his head.

"Quite pleasant, your highness."

Silence, a long and awkward silence until they reached the parlour. The parlour was large and extravagantly decorated, much more so than any room at San Clemente. Alexander sat on a chaise longue beside his father, while Marianne and her children sat opposite.

"Well, isn't this nice!" declared Marianne, for reasons best known to herself. "Now, you do remember our agreement, Bismark?"

"If I recall correctly, you offered to take my son in until he is ready to attend the Colchester School at twelve," his father replied.

"Ah yes, dear old Colchester," sighed Marianne. "Military or civilian?" This last she directed at Alexander.

"My father advised the military," Alexander replied cautiously. "But I have not yet decided."

"I believe the military school would be the best fit," his father added. "My son's interests lean towards the military arts."

"Somehow I suspected that would be the case," commented Marianne. "Well, you and Lelouch will be a good influence on one-another, being complete opposites."

"Mother!" complained Lelouch, suddenly unsettled.

"Ah, but it's true!" Marianne beamed. "You see Nunnally's pretty dress? Lelouch made that himself from scratch! Isn't that right Nunnally?"

Nunnally nodded vigorously, holding out the skirts to show it off.

"Mother, really!" protested Lelouch, red-faced.

"Incidentally, do you play chess?" Marianne asked, changing the subject with remarkable speed.

"I...I am familiar with the game, your Majesty," Alexander replied, trying to hide his awkwardness. "But I have only ever played with my father."

"Marvellous!" Marianne clapped her hands with glee. "Lelouch positively loves chess! But for Schneizel and one or two others, he would be grand master of the court! But don't be too intimidated, Alexander. I'm sure Lelouch would love to play with you."

She glanced expectantly at Lelouch.

"I would like that very much, your lordship," he said, guardedly.

"I would be honoured to play with you, your highness," Alexander replied respectfully. He heard another sigh from Marianne, and wondered what it meant.

"Chess and dressmaking aside," Marianne went on. "You'll be educated alongside Lelouch and Nunnally while you're here. It will be a broad education, covering academics and sociability. I'll also need you to attend on them, and look after them for me when I am otherwise occupied. Can I entrust you with that, Alexander?"

"Of course, your Majesty."

"Excellent." She turned to Lelouch. "Lelouch, Lord Bismark and I need to discuss a few things. Will you be a dear and give Alexander the grand tour?"

"Yes mother." Alexander slid off the chaise longue, Nunally doing likewise. "Will you come, Lord Alexander?"

Alexander stepped down, bowed to his father and the Empress, and let himself be led away. Marianne paused a while, watching them go, and hearing their footsteps fade into silence.

"Such a handsome boy," she said wistfully. "Worthy of you, Bismark."

"I am glad to hear you say so, your Majesty."

"Ah, but had you told me sooner?" Marianne sighed. "A beautiful child, but so stiff, so formal. I suppose I should have expected nothing else from you, my old tutor."

"I raised him as best I could, your Majesty."

"Not good enough, Bismark." Marianne hardened her tone as she regarded her mentor. "What I saw there was not a child, but a facsimile of yourself. This is what comes of letting men raise children by themselves, even a man as noble as you."

"Your Majesty."

"He needs a mother, Bismark," she said. "And I mean to be his mother. Not merely his teacher, or his benefactress. I will teach him compassion, and chivalry, and tenderness. I will above all teach him to be kind and gentle to women, for there are too many in this world who are not. Do you object to this, Bismark?"

"No, your majesty."

Still that face. Still those eyes, those eyes he had never quite learned how to read. Still those eyes that could confuse and unsettle him so, ever after all those years.

"You did him wrong to deny him a mother," she went on. "You should have married again, if only for his sake. Or is that why you agreed to my proposal?" She cocked one narrow eyebrow, her eyes fixed on his face.

"I...would be hard for a woman to live with, your Majesty," Bismark admitted. "And your kind offer solved the problem for me."

"I see."

Marianne paused, regarding her old teacher.

"Bismark, do not think me cruel," she said. "You are my teacher, my brother knight, and a better father than I have ever known. Had you asked me before the Emperor did...I would have said yes."

Of all the things to say. Of all the memories, all the burdens she could dredge up from the past.

Her words did not hurt Bismark, not as they might once have done. She was the Empress, and he was the First Knight. They knew where they stood with one-another, and that was that.

"Strange that you did not tell me of him sooner," she said, keeping her gaze fixed on him, daring him to attempt a denial. "Strange that you let him grow so many years without a word to your beloved student. Strange that the First Knight should have a son, yet no one knows a thing about it."

The coup-de-grace. Bismark had half-suspected it from the moment Marianne had contacted him. But even then, he had half-hoped to avoid it.

"Who is he, Bismark?"

It took a long time for Bismark to reply. A part of him screamed at him to stand firm, to deny everything, to storm out in a fit of put-on offense. But such behavior was so far beneath his dignity that he wouldn't know how to do it, even if he wanted to.

Besides, if anyone deserved to know the truth, she did.

"I found him in Tehran," he eventually replied. "A street child, fighting for his life in a dark corner. I...saw something in him."

"As you saw something in me, Bismark?"

"Do not mock me, your Majesty." His tone was suddenly cold, or colder than usual. "I took an ill-tempered, undisciplined girl and turned her into a knight of the Round Table. May I not turn a street child into a worthy son?"

He saw Marianne shiver just a little, and felt a twinge of satisfaction. She remembered, all right. She remembered the person she had once been, and the night when she thought her life was over. He would never forget her either; that young thrill-seeker, who had piloted other people's knightmares for their glory and her own joy. That foolish, courageous teenage girl, who had taken part in an underground tournament just outside San Diego, and ended up in a police cell for her trouble.

"I would say that you have more than earned the right, Bismark," she replied gently. "That is why I let you have him to yourself for two years. But I would have preferred you sent him to me sooner. I say this for his sake, as well as for yours."

"I did as I thought best, your Majesty."

"I never doubted it."

Marianne stood up. Bismark did likewise. She held out a hand.

"Please be assured, my dear old tutor," she said, her tone sufficiently grave to convince him of her sincerity. "Your son is your son, and I will treat him as my own. Neither of you need fear any treachery from me."

"I thank you, your Majesty." Bismark took her hand, only for Marianne to slide it along and grasp his wrist; the knight's clasp, which they had not shared since her marriage.

Dare he believe her?

He had no choice. And if he was honest, he was not afraid.

"Ar-ix-an-dur Ar-rix-an-dur way-key way-key Ar-ix-an-dur!"

The strange chant, punctuated by a rhythmic hammering on his chest, dragged Alexander into wakefulness. He groaned, blinking his eyes into focus.

"Arixandur!" It was Nunnally, clad in an exceedingly frilly pink nightgown, sitting on top of the thick bedspread that covered him, a suitably childish grin on her face. "Iz morning!"

Alexander let out another, much longer groan as he tried to make sense of his situation. It took a few moments for his brain to activate sufficiently to remember where he was.

He was in his room at Aries Villa, in St Darwin Boulevard. His self-appointed wakeup caller was Princess Nunnally.

"Nunnally!" shouted a voice he had heard somewhere before. "Nunnally, where have you gone!?"

Prince Lelouch poked his head around the door.

"Nunnally!" he exclaimed. "Leave Lord Alexander alone!"

"Arixandur sleepy!" retorted the little girl.

"Come away from there!" Lelouch strode forward, grabbed Nunnally and lifted her off Alexander.

"Good morning, my lord," Lelouch greeted him, in a tone that implied he found the whole situation distinctly beneath him. "Please forgive her."

"Good...morning, your highness." Alexander's head throbbed as it tried to clear.

"Breakfast will be in thirty minutes. I trust that is convenient?"

"Quite...convenient, your highness."

"Very well."

Lelouch led a fussing Nunnally away. Alexander sat up, rubbing his eyes as his head cleared enough to think. Empress Marianne's household was evidently informal, much more so than his father's. It would just have to be endured, of course. But what other surprises might await him?

Breakfast was a little more decorous than he had feared, though still informal compared to what he was used to. Marianne sat at the head of the long table, with Lelouch and Nunnally to her right, and Alexander seated opposite. Lelouch was not in a talkative mood, spending much of the meal fussing over Nunnally. Marianne was in a friendlier mood, however.

"I think we have an exciting day ahead of us!" she declared, lowering her teacup. "Victoria has agreed to let Euphie join us today."

Alexander felt his face heat up as he remembered their first meeting. Had she told Lelouch about it?

"The tutors should be done with you in the early afternoon," Marianne went on, "after which you'll have time to amuse yourselves before dinner. Then..." she shot Lelouch a wide smile "...someone has an important appointment this evening."

"Oh yes!" Lelouch brightened. "Schneizel..,my brother, Prince Schneizel...agreed to play chess tonight."

Alexander watched him intently. He knew of Prince Schneizel, of course. Though his older siblings Crown Prince Odysseus and First Princess Guinevere stood ahead of him in the line of succession, he was renowned across the empire for his intellect and accomplishment. Alexander wondered what sort of chess player such a man would be, and what chance Lelouch stood against him.

"I've just had the most marvelous idea!" declared Marianne, still beaming. "This afternoon, why don't you have a practice match against Alexander? Just to get you warmed up?"

Alexander forced himself not to cry out in protest, though he felt his cheeks redden. Lelouch gave him an appraising look.

"I suppose it could be helpful," he said, in a patronizing sort of tone. "If it will not inconvenience you overmuch, Lord Alexander?"

Alexander felt three pairs of eyes upon him, and knew only one answer was acceptable.

"Not at all, your highness."

"…the assembled Royal families agreed, almost unanimously, that Princess Claire should take the throne. This she did, as Britannia's first and thus far only Empress to rule in her own right."

Alexander scribbled furiously as the professor continued his lecture. He had already filled a dozen pages with notes, copying them down as fast as his racing mind could process them.

"Empress Claire was a major change for the empire, both for who she was and what she did. She was a young Empress, a living symbol of feminine purity, with a reputation for kindness and generosity. Doubtless many hoped that her reign would bring peace, and stabilize society in the manner they hoped for."

The professor glanced from one to the other of his students, a slightly sour look on his aged face. Alexander felt cold inside. Had he done something wrong? Had he displeased the professor somehow?

He glanced at Lelouch, seated to his right. The prince sat slouched over his desk, looking as if he was about to fall asleep. Confused, Alexander glanced at Euphemia to his left. She was making notes too, but her manner was languid, easy. She did not scribble in desperate haste, but inscribed with elegant ease, as if this was no matter at all.

He suppressed a sigh. The lessons had manageable thus far, but not as engaging as they had been under his father. Bismark had let him learn in his own way, tailoring the lessons to his interests, setting out what he wanted him to learn in a manner he could understand.

They had done mathematics earlier. The teacher had given Lelouch some exercise of his own devising, one that Alexander could not understand a word of, and left him to get on with it. Alexander, meanwhile, had been stuck doing the same exercises as Euphemia, and if his sense for her mood was in any way accurate, she had been as bored as he was. His work was nothing but lists of mathematical problems; without context, meaning or purpose.

He could do them well enough, but it wasn't like the way his father had done it; tasks such as working out how many tanks were needed to equip an armoured division, taking into account breakdowns at a rate of twenty-five per cent, or how many spare wheels a mechanized infantry company would require over a month of constant operation. That way he could understand the problems, use the techniques in a way that made sense.

But then again, such subject matter might not be to Euphemia's liking…or Lelouch's for that matter.

"Unfortunately, though her reign lasted a respectable twenty-one years, she has had the misfortune to be remembered as a weak ruler, unable to force foreign invaders from Britannian soil except by bribery, and unable to prevent the political chaos that led ultimately to the Knightslayer War."

The professor regarded them all again, looking down his nose at them until all three sets of eyes were fixed upon him.

"Would anyone care to suggest what exactly went wrong with Empress Claire's reign?" He cocked a thin, white eyebrow. Alexander felt his stomach churn. He knew a few things about Empress Claire's reign, things he had learnt from his father and read at home, as well as on a few documentaries on the Military History channel. But he wasn't sure how well he could answer the question, and didn't want to make a fool of himself.

He glanced at Euphemia, who seemed to be thinking quite hard, then at Lelouch, who seemed as disinterested as before. Dare he answer before they did? Might that not be disrespectful?

"Your lordship." The professor's stern tone made him jump. "The only permission you need to answer a question is mine, and it is given. If you have something to say, kindly say it and stop glancing at their highnesses."

Alexander felt his face heat up. He struggled to form a reply, but his mind was a whirl.

"Please forgive him, professor," Euphemia spoke up. "Alexander only came to live here yesterday. He's not used to being with us."

"He will have to get used to it, your highness" replied the professor. "A person of his exalted birth must become accustomed to being in the presence of royalty. My question stands, your lordship."

Alexander realized that he had no way out. He gulped.

"I think…Empress Claire…had too many things to deal with," he said, feeling a fool. It was all he could do to meet the professor's gaze.

"Indeed?" The professor kept his eyes fixed on Alexander. "Can your lordship perhaps provide some details? Elucidate maybe?"

"She could not use force to expel the foreigners…because her army was not suitable," Alexander responded, his heart hammering.

"Oh really?" asked the professor, in a tone of exaggerated surprise. "The army of Britannia, incapable of expelling enemy invaders?"

Alexander gulped again. He didn't understand why the professor was picking on him like this. Might he become angry if Alexander gave him the answer he intended?

"In the Knightslayer War, such armies tried to oppose Prince Lothar, whose army was much like that of the Europeans," he replied. Surely the professor could not be angry if he simply told the truth?

"They certainly did," admitted the professor mildly. "And what was it about Lothar's armies that made them so unmanageable?"

"He armed his men with the latest rifles and cannon from Europe," Alexander went on, feeling a little more confident. "Knights in armour could not match them, even with Shot Lancers or exploding javelins."

"Very good, your lordship." The professor actually sounded a little pleased. "It seems your interests turn to the military. But you are right of course. For Empress Claire, expelling the British, French, and Spanish from Britannia's shores by force was not a viable option, not with the forces she had available."

Alexander heard a clapping noise. He turned, and saw Euphemia beaming at him.

"So why didn't she change them?"

It was Lelouch. Alexander turned to look at him. The prince was sitting as he was before, chin resting on his right hand, looking as if he found the whole situation utterly pointless.

"Your highness?" prompted the professor.

"Lothar raised an army in secret, with hardly any of the resources she had. What was to stop her raising a new army of her own?"

Alexander was initially irritated by Lelouch's attitude. That is, until he realized that he wasn't sure he could answer the question.

"Well, your lordship?" The professor turned his eyes on Alexander once again. Alexander felt sick with embarrassment as he struggled for an answer.

"I think…perhaps…she was not inclined towards such matters."

It was all he could think of. And even then, he knew it was a stupid answer.

"Hmm…" hummed the professor. "Perhaps your grasp of politics needs to improve, your lordship."

"I'll you why," Lelouch cut in, his delicate features taking on a smirk. "It's because she was weak."

"That's not fair!" protested Euphemia. "She was kind! She didn't like wars!"

"She was the Empress, Euphie," retorted Lelouch sourly. "It doesn't matter that she didn't like wars. It was her duty to protect the empire, even if it meant fighting wars."

Euphemia paused, her face twisting as she tried to come up with a reply. It was clear she had nothing to offer.

"You agree with me, don't you Alexander?" Lelouch turned to look expectantly at him. "You see that I'm right?"

Alexander gulped. Everything his father taught him told him that Lelouch was indeed correct. But at the same time, something in Lelouch's manner made his heart rebel against it.

That, and he didn't want to upset Euphemia. Didn't she deserve to have someone back her up? Just this once?

"I…I think that…it was the Empress' responsibility, as Prince Lelouch said," he said, forcing himself not to stammer. "But…I don't think she was weak."

He held himself still, waiting for scorn and fury he must surely have brought upon himself. But none came. He glanced at Euphemia, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Not weak, your lordship?" asked the professor, hintingly. Alexander gulped again. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"If she was weak, she would not have survived her adventures in Japan, and on the sea," he went on. "If she was weak, she could not have survived the North-South War, and brought peace to the empire. If she was weak, she would have fallen long ago."

He fell silent, sighing with exhaustion. Euphemia beamed at him. Lelouch rolled his eyes.

"Shrewd, your lordship," mused the professor. "Perhaps your being here will not be a waste of my time. You might even encourage his highness," he shot a sour glance at Lelouch, "to apply himself."

For a moment, Alexander felt a warm glow inside; as he felt when his father praised him.

Then he saw the look Lelouch was giving him.

"I wonder what's become of Lelouch?"

Night had long since fallen, and the parlour was lit by glowing lamps. Empress Marianne stood by the window, gazing out over the front garden. The road leading down through the gardens to St Darwin Boulevard was lit by tall streetlamps, and decorative lights illuminated the gardens like a swarm of fireflies.

But there was no sign of the great car that had taken Lelouch to his appointment with Schneizel, just after dinner. He was nearly an hour late, and Euphemia had long since returned to her mother's home at Chalcedon Palace.

"Perhaps the game has gone on too long, your Majesty," Alexander suggested awkwardly.

"Perhaps," agreed Marianne. "Perhaps Schneizel is going easy on him, or they decided to play best of three."

"I daresay, your Majesty."

Marianne tutted, and turned to smile down at him. There was something warm and pleasant about her smile, that nevertheless set him on edge.

"Still so formal," she said. "But I sense that something has been bothering you this evening. Won't you tell me what it is, Alexander?"

Alexander forced himself not to gulp, or look away, however much he longed to do so.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me." Marianne's voice was gentle, and sweet as honey.

"I…I fear I may have offended his highness," Alexander said, forcing the words out. Marianne sighed, and placed a lace-gloved hand on his head, gently ruffling his soft black hair.

"You don't have to call him that when we're in private like this," she said, smiling indulgently. "This is your home, at least for the time being. Now, tell me why you think you've upset Lelouch."

Alexander told her about what had happened during the lessons, half-expecting Marianne to become angry, to snap at him. Instead she just smiled.

"Is that all?" She giggled like a young girl. "From what Professor Meinhof told me, you answered his questions quite intelligently, and actually bothered to make notes."

"He did?" Alexander blurted out, surprised.

"Yes." She giggled again. "Professor Meinhof despises most forms of humanoid life, yet I suspect you are one of his few exceptions."

"But…I offended Lelouch," Alexander pleaded. "I made him look bad in front of the Professor, and her…Princess Euphemia."

"He makes himself look bad," Marianne assured him. "It's not entirely his fault. He's just so clever, hardly any of the teachers can keep him motivated."

Alexander stared at her, as understanding slowly dawned.

"You know what I mean, don't you," Marianne said. "Your father told me all about his teaching methods. From what he told me, you like to learn by doing things. Is that not so?"

"Yes, your Majesty…I mean, that is so...your Majesty."

Marianne laughed gently, and patted his head again.

"Hopefully, Lelouch will make more of an effort now that you're here," she went on. "He's very competitive, and he doesn't like to lose. That's the reason he's being so bad-tempered around you."

That made sense. Alexander had sensed it during his practice match with Lelouch before dinner. The air of aggression and determination coming off the prince had been all but overpowering.

"Lulu?"

Both looked up. Standing in the doorway was Nunnally, in her nightgown, looking very sleepy.

"He's not back yet, Nunnally," explained Marianne, standing up. "And it's bed time for little princesses."

"Lulu…" Nunnally sounded very unhappy.

"Up we go." Marianne moved over to Nunnally and scooped her up. "Come along, Alexander."

"Uh…yes of course, your Majesty."

Alexander dutifully fell in behind Marianne as she carried her sleepy daughter through the corridors and up the grand staircase, then more corridors, until they reached Nunnally's room; which was located opposite Lelouch's room and right next to his own.

It was quite a large room, at least as large as his own, but decorated very differently. The room was exceedingly pink and frilly; pink curtains, pink drapes on the bed, pink sheets and many pink pillows. There were many portraits on the walls, mostly of young children in fancy outfits, or of fairies or unicorns. An enormous pink rabbit, as big as Nunnally herself, sat on the bed. The whole room smelt of flowers.

Alexander felt deeply uncomfortable as he followed Marianne into the room, and not just because this was a princess' bedroom. This wasn't at all what he was used to; not on the streets of Tehran, and not even at San Clemente. There seemed to be some connection between young girls and things like frills and bright colours, especially pink. It wasn't a room where he could ever have felt comfortable.

Marianne sat her daughter in bed and pulled the sheets and thick duvet up over her, the pink rabbit sitting next to her.

"Lulu…" Nunnally still didn't look happy.

"Oh dear, this is going to be a problem," declared Marianne. "Normally Lelouch reads to her before she goes to sleep, but he can't do that when he's not here."

Nunnally pouted, as if to confirm the point.

"How would you like it," Marianne said, smiling down at her daughter, "if Alexander read to you tonight?"

Alexander froze, taken by surprise. Nunnally looked straight at him, seeming to weigh him up, then nodded with an mm noise.

"Very well." Marianne turned to face him. "Would you oblige me just this once, Alexander?"

"Oh…of course, your Majesty." He could hardly say otherwise.

"Thank you." Marianne stepped over to the bookcase and pulled out a tall, thin book, its cover full of bright pictures. She handed it to Alexander, and gestured for him to sit down at the chair beside the bed.

"When she's asleep, come and see me downstairs," she said, smiling warmly. "Good night, Nunnally." She kissed her daughter on the forehead, then headed for the door, pausing only to turn down the lights, until only a soft nightlight illuminated the room.

Alexander paused, uncertain. He had never done anything remotely like this before. But Nunnally was gazing expectantly at him, clutching the pink rabbit.

He looked down at the cover. Snow White. Inside, the pages were mostly brightly coloured pictures, with a few words written in large letters; suitable for a young child to read. He had heard of this story, but did not know it well. He would just have to do his best.

"Once upon a time…"

This was a quite tricky chapter. I flip-flopped over whether or not to leave in that segment where Bismark admits the truth to Marianne regarding Alexander's true origins, but decided to leave it in for the moment. I originally had it from Marianne's POV, but the Sufficient Velocity crowd complained that it was jarring, and I can see why.

The trickiest part of all was how to handle Lelouch. I saw him as reacting quite badly to Alexander moving in, as he wouldn't like having to share his mother and sister (also Euphie) with some interloper. That Alexander has had to take over his bedtime story duties is only going to make him even more jealous.

The history class scene was, as much as anything else, a convenient way to squeeze in some backstory. The Empress Claire mentioned here is one of the main characters in the Renya of Darkness manga. I know a lot of fans dislike it, but since it's technically canon I wanted to find a use for it. Further info can be found on the fanon wiki.