Recap: Kallen runs into Roy and Lelouch unexpectedly at the Fadiman & Jenkins home and chaos ensues as assassins strike.
Chapter 14: A Shroud is Lifted
Lars: Tonight, I have the absolute pleasure of introducing you to Jones Johnson, my old roommate back from college. But you may better know him as the author of the best selling biography: Nunnally vi Britannia: Light in the Dark. I suspect we will all know him in the upcoming months for the next best seller: Behind the Lies of Lelouch vi Britannia.
Jones: Slow down there, Lars. We're not there yet. Pre-orders don't even open until next week, but thank you for having me.
Lars: Always. Now, I remember the night you called me on the phone, having just sold your first, and at the time, only biography. And then you passed me a copy, and I came back to ask "What about Lelouch?" Now, you quite clearly told me that you would never touch his life with a ten foot pole. Why was that?
Jones: [Nervous laughter] Well, back in grad school we used to have a drinking game digging through all these old historical documents for my advisor. He would have us research the most random things from the early 2000s, and we would run across Lelouch's name quite often. It didn't take us long for us to notice that it heavily contradicted each other. Nick used to swear that Lelouch had a clone because he was sometimes reported in two places at once. The other problem with studying his history is that most of it is redacted, either by himself, his father, or our government in the following years. [pause] So I said I didn't want anything to do with him because none of it made sense and naturally started researching his sister.
— Interview with Jones Johnson, writer of the Best-Seller: Behind the Lies of Lelouch vi Britannia.
New York, Homeland
The Kallen in her imagination faced combat with a steady hand. Her knightmare tore through Britannian soldiers. And at the end, she emerged unscathed from her cockpit as the Japanese flag rose over the battlefield. The real Kallen was currently cowering behind a couch next to a moaning Charles and armed not with a knightmare, but a simple pocket knife.
The stench of vomit had never entered her idle fantasies either. Nor her heart currently trying to leap free from the tip of her fingers, and her lungs which needed regular reminders to breathe.
Combat was nothing like she imagined, and she wanted to go home and crawl under her blanket and forget this ever happened. She squeezed her eyes shut as loud footsteps neared. She was going to die, long before she had the chance to accomplish anything with her life.
Coughing, Charles dry heaved, and then rolled back on his back, clutching his stomach and moaning in pain. She wanted to scream at him to be quiet; no words left her mouth.
She was going to die.
Roy and Lamperouge leaned against the wall next to the door, unconcerned about the noise or the specks of blood on their shoes. The butler had fallen silent in his pool of blood. Had they killed him? Did they even care?
Desperately, she opened her phone. As Roy had said, there was no signal.
The first assassin stepped through the doorway, and Roy slammed his palm into his nose, quickly followed it with a knee to the head, then twisted the man's arm. She desperately hoped that the terrifying crack hadn't been from the second move.
Lamperouge was more deliberate. As another man hurried forward to rescue his partner, he struck from behind and looped his arm around the man's neck. His victim desperately clawed at the arm, only freezing when Roy threatened him with the gun, and was then quickly disarmed.
Panic clawed at her chest. It was one thing to know they were killers. It was another to see it in action.
"We can help you," Lamperouge offered, kneeling before the incapacitated man who rubbed his throat gingerly. Roy even lowered his gun marginally. "Tell us who sent you. We can protect you."
Damn it. She wanted to believe he was genuine as if she hadn't seen him throw a knife at someone based on pure conjecture. Who did that?
She staggered to her feet and froze as Roy's gaze swept over her. On the ground, the man took a shaky breath, his eyes flitting from side to side.
"He never shared his name. He said it was a quick and easy job. Just some good old intimidation." He chuckled. "No hard feelings?"
"And what about him?" Lamperouge gestured at the downed butler.
"Never met him."
So the butler had been innocent, and Lamperouge killed him over a suspicion. She shouldn't have expected anything less from a Britannian soldier. They always shot first and asked questions later.
Rolling his shoulders, Lamperouge stood. "Amateurs."
The man's lips thinned and his eyes flicked to his companion. "Is he—"
At a small nod from Lamperouge, Roy leaned down, pressing two fingers against his neck. "Alive."
"Describe your employer," Lamperouge demanded. "Height, weight, hair color. Anything. Help us, and I'll put a good word for you in. You haven't killed anyone yet? Good. Then the charges will be simply trespassing. A brief stint in the system, and you'll be back on the streets to accept the next shady deal."
"Average, I don't know," the man blabbered.
She hated how good Lamperouge was. He was offering a deceptive deal, and in return, the man babbled every little tidbit he knew. Britannian soldiers were supposed to be mindless. This was something worse. Lamperouge was smart and understood how people ticked. He knew her too. Knew she was Japanese. A word from him, and she and her family would be ruined.
Examining the butler, Roy flashed a hand sign.
Lamperouge nodded, checked his watch, and knelt before the man. "If that's all you know, it's alright. Reinforcements should be here any minute, and I'll tell him you've been a tremendous help. Instead of a year, it'll be a month or two in a labor camp. "
Kallen's eyes widened. Without money or proper connections, a labor camp was a death sentence, regardless of how short the original sentence was. And Lamperouge dared to sound apologetic.
Her lungs relaxed. Reinforcements were coming. She was saved. Wait... Hadn't Roy said there was no signal? Lamperouge was... lying. She hadn't even noticed.
"No, no, no. Wait!" The man twisted, his hands searching for something. "There's three men down—down in the big room. They're expecting us."
"Stay still. You're injured." Lamperouge rose. "I'll take that into consideration."
"Here!" He pulled out a small bag. "Lifted it off him. Don't know what it means."
"Some junk," Lamperouge said, glancing inside.
"I have numbers. And names of suppliers."
Lamperouge paused mid-turn and pulled out a small notebook. "That is exceptionally useful. Write it down."
Relieved, the man grabbed the notepad and hastily scribbled full two pages. "Is it enough? I swear it's all I know. And my friend? It's not his fault. I got him into this."
"If this pans out, and you continue to be cooperative, I forsee the two of you sharing a prison cell and out—"
"We have to move," Roy said, grabbing the notebook and squinting at the pages. "He's a liability."
Lelouch paused, considering, and nodded. The man lurched. Without hesitation, Lamperouge pulled out the gun and fired.
Kallen screamed.
Bile rose, and she turned away from the grisly sight, clasping her hand over her mouth. The man was dead. Sure, he had been coming to kill her, but Lamperouge had spoken to him like a friend. And when he was no longer of use, executed him. She hunched over again.
"Damn, sheep," Roy mumbled and grabbed her arm. "Come on. We have to move. They'll come looking for their two missing guys."
"You killed him," she whispered. Tearing her arm free, she stepped back. "You killed him! He was cooperating."
"He was about to stab us in the damn back." He leaned forward. "Now, do you want to live?"
"Yes."
"Then you're going to do as I say. We have experience." His eyes wandered down to her trembling hand clutching the pocket knife. "You clearly don't."
Cheeks warming, she nodded. She had trained to fight and thought she would be ready when the time came. Instead, she was acting like a little girl.
"What about your cousin?" Lamperouge asked. There was blood on his coat, but he was unfazed.
Charles groaned, clearly alive. "I'm... coming."
"You have to be kidding me." Roy pinched his nose. "Just play dead."
"Not going to miss out." Charles moaned and propped himself on his elbows. "You leave me here, Roy, and I'll scream so loud that everyone knows you're coming."
Lamperouge narrowed his eyes, and Kallen eyes flicked to the gun in his hands, ready to be used. He hadn't shown much—or rather, any—restraint when it came to violence. If Charles turned into a liability—if she turned into a liability, he would kill them.
"Roy?" he asked.
Observing his cousin, Roy's lip curled. There was no love lost between the two, and a complicated game of family politics between them. A Britannian never blinked twice when eliminating competitors. She licked her lips, trying to determine why she cared. Britannians killing each other off over petty squabbles was a good thing. The more they fought amongst themselves, the less resources they had for conquest and oppression.
"Carry him," Roy finally decided. Aghast, Lamperouge shook his head but froze at his friend's look. "I need my hands free."
Lamperouge sighed and grabbed an arm. "Make a sound, and I'll gag you."
"Let's move," Roy ordered and peeked around the frame. He glanced back at them, flashing a hand signal to Lamperouge, and paused as he looked at her. "Take off your shoes."
"What?"
"I said," he growled, "take off your shoes. If you want to live, stop questioning, and do as I say."
Kallen nodded and slipped off her heels. Her nose scrunched as she felt something wet.
"Nobles," Roy mumbled, stepping outside.
Kallen followed him obediently as Lamperouge stepped behind her, supporting Charles. Roy opened the opposing doorway, and waved them inside. Without the light from the windows, the space was illuminated only by the faint emergency lights. The hallway was narrower than the one her and her father had been shown through. Roy shut the door and passed them, once again taking the lead. Occasionally, they would stop, listening to angry voices echoing through vents. Judging from their angry cursing, they had discovered them missing.
"Inside," Roy hissed, opening another door.
Charles coughed weakly behind him and she hurried inside. A dim light turned on, revealing a sparse bedroom.
"Maybe spend a little less on the foyer and more on your comfort," Lamperouge said and dumped Charles onto the ground.
"Bedrooms don't make money," Roy said, digging through the closet. Victoriously, he emerged with a box and set it down on the desk.
As Lamperouge wandered, inspecting various items, she approached the desk and raised an eyebrow at the child's toy set, complete with plastic walkie-talkies and flashlights. There was also a small toy gun and a plastic military ID.
"Is the cleaning closet near?" Lamperouge asked.
"We're not making a bomb—" Roy hissed, slightly more sane than his companion.
"But—"
"Not in my home."
"In which there are currently an unknown number of assailants." Lamperouge raised his hands at the threatening growl. "Fine. No explosives. Then the kitchen?"
"Too far," Roy said. "And I can't throw knives worth a damn."
He shrugged and began fumbling around in the closet. "Was thinking more of a pan. We begin shooting, and they all know where we are."
Charles groaned, clambered to his feet, and stumbled to the desk. Opening a drawer, he grabbed a small bottle and swallowed three pills. His head turned slowly, pinning Lamperouge with a glare. "How did you know? You refused to eat anything. You're with them, aren't you?"
Given Lamperouge's dubious activities around Tokyo that could be true, and Kallen gripped her knife tightly, waiting for him to respond. Even if he wasn't behind this attack, removing him would keep her secret safe.
"Unless you have something helpful to contribute, shut up," Roy hissed.
"Or are you in on it as well? Afraid of losing everything because you're such a letdown?" Charles asked.
Lamperouge scoffed. "We would never have relied on such amateurs." He turned away from the closet, in his hands a long bungee cord. "Feel free to shout and take your chance with the armed men."
With more force than necessary, Roy wrenched his cousin's arm behind him and firmly secured him. "Don't do anything stupid. It would make Grandma upset."
Strangely, Charles paled. Their grandmother had been the woman sitting in the corner of the foyer who barely reacted to their presence. For a Britannian family, they were strangely accommodating of an elderly and frail woman.
"Let's go," Roy said, throwing a plastic walkie-talkie and flashlight at Lelouch. He paused briefly and picked up a paper weight. Lamperouge nodded and leaned into the closet. He reemerged with a belt.
"Why are you calling them amateurs?" Kallen asked.
"We're still alive and wandering free for one thing," Lamperouge said. "They don't have much time before someone investigates but decided to use poison. Would've been better to throw in a canister of tear gas and then rush us." He paused, eyes drawn together. "It's too hasty."
Kallen tried to not think about what it meant that he seemed to understand the situation so well. Charles's accusation still rang in her mind. Lamperouge and Roy had shown up unannounced which was incredibly convenient. Her neck prickled, all too aware of Lamperouge quietly breathing behind her. If he decided to act, there was nothing she could do.
Her chest tightened again, and Roy raised his hand, bringing their slow train to a halt. Voices echoed down the hallway. Lamperouge stepped past her to stand by Roy. The cord dangled loosely from his hands. She was forgotten.
She took a step backward. They didn't move. Now was her chance. She couldn't trust them. Tiptoeing, she slowly retreated down the hallway. Her best bet was to hide until everything blew over. No one would be expecting the noble girl to fight, and she could. She only had to forget the stench of blood and the sound of a body limply dropping to the floor. She had to survive for Japan's sake. No Britannian assassins were going to get the best of her.
A muscular arm swept around her neck, and she shrieked, before dropping her weight and slamming her knife behind her. He grunted, but didn't let go. The room felt hazy around her, and balck dots swarmed her vision. The knife slipped from her wet fingers.
A gunshot cut through her frantic thoughts.
Blood splattered her face, and the weight around her neck disappeared. Across from her, Lamperouge lowered his gun. She looked backwards and stared at the body. The gushing head wound left no doubt about his survival. That could have been her.
"Shit." Roy rushed forward, grabbing her arm and roughly pulling her along. "We need to move."
Everything felt so distant as if she was watching through a long tunnel. Her fingers were sticky. She should clean them. Her mouth moved, but she couldn't hear the words. The walls pressed in on her, and the air in her lungs had turned to lead.
"Well, at least this should fill the quota," Roy whispered. "My wedding is safe."
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't have a quota," Lamperouge said.
"You have the worst luck. Back in Basic, our squad always got the worst assignment," Roy said.
"Because the Drill Sergeant had it out for us. And we pissed off the Major."
"Getting sent out earlier."
"Everyone did."
"That time our food spoiled."
Lamperouge broke his fast stride and stared. "You cannot be serious. How is that even related to me?"
A giggle escaped her lips as she imagined food souring as Lamperouge passed. She hadn't thought Roy was the superstitious type, especially compared to Lamperouge.
"And even though I told you to go, you were the one they court martialed," Roy said triumphantly.
"Because they needed someone to blame, and your family has too much of a public profile. It's not bad luck, but logic."
"The time you went out for groceries."
Lamperouge sighed. "Fine. Once. It happened once. And for the record, I just spent months without anything bad happening. Maybe it's your fault."
"Well... shit," Roy said. "That's terrifying. You have months of bad luck waiting to happen."
"That's not how it works," Kallen snapped. "People are trying to kill us. Stop joking around!"
Roy paused and leaned against the wall. "Better now, my lady?"
What?
"Only thing worse than a civilian in combat is a civilian having a panic attack in combat," he explained.
To her surprise, she found her heart had settled, and she could breathe unimpeded. She swallowed and wiped her hands on the dress. "Thank you."
"Come on, we're almost there. You're going to have to be quiet. Can you do that?" Roy asked.
She nodded. His gaze didn't relent. She swallowed. "Yes."
Pleased, he turned around and led the way. Sometimes, Kallen would spot their attackers passing an open door. Other times, Roy would stop, and hurry them back, turning into another room to take an alternate route. They didn't have a plethora of a servant passageways like her house, but they did have an open floor plan with plenty of room to hide, especially in the darkness.
Judging from the distant shouts, their attackers often found themselves walking in circles.
A phone rang. They froze.
"Turn it off," Roy ordered.
Lamperouge didn't react, frozen in terror.
"Lelouch. Lamperouge! Turn it off."
Shoulders tensed, he looked up. "I can't. It's my father."
"Damn it, Lelouch," Roy hissed. "Turn it off, or we're going to die."
The phone fell silent, and Lamperouge let out a relieved sigh. Shouts neared, and Roy hurried them into an empty bedroom.
The phone began to ring again.
If he was getting reception... Kallen pulled out her own phone. Still no signal. His phone continued to ring.
Lamperouge pulled out his phone. It was bulkier than the dirt cheap flip phone he had been using earlier.
"Don't answer it!" Roy grabbed his hair and began to pace the room, his eyes darting to the door.
"I'm a little busy," Lamperouge said, retreating further into the room. "No. That's not necessary.., It's a little trouble... I'm handling it."
Roy threw up his hands. Kallen was tempted to do the same. They could definitely use the help.
But there was a more pressing questions in her mind. Why did he have two phones? Why did this phone still have a signal? And why hadn't he called for help?
"That would be excessive," Lamperouge said, his voice neutral, yet his shoulders had risen defensively. And had his accent just changed? "There really is no need."
Roy paced away from the door. "Lelouch," he whispered. Grimacing, he resumed his post, pressing his ear against the door.
"Can we discuss this another time?" Lamperouge winced. "I know—I am aware that I said that... There are some technical difficulties I had not planned for... I only need a little longer, and I promise that I will have time then."
An uncomfortable weight settled in her stomach, and Kallen kept her face carefully blank as she studied him. His painfully polite attitude didn't match his body language at all. And there was definitely a strangely familiar accent there. Was this truly his father on the other end? She could never imagine speaking to hers in such an impersonal manner.
Roy had anxiously resumed pacing. Every now and then, his hands would clench tightly and he would take a step closer to Lamperogue, but he didn't interfere in the phone call despite their precarious situation.
Until now, Lamperouge had followed his every order without hesitation like the soldier he was. The phone call though had him disobeying, and even left Roy wary from interfering. Who was on the other end of the line that even with their lives in danger, they were more wary of him than the enemy closing in?
"You need to hang up now," Roy ordered.
Lamperouge covered one end and hissed, "I can't." This time panic was evident in his voice.
"I don't care. End it now."
"I really have to go," Lamperouge said, fingers tapping his leg. "Fifteen minutes, please?"
"Lelouch," Roy barked. "Now."
"I said I have to go," Lamperouge snapped, anger finally leaking through. "Thanks to your phone call, everyone knows where I am."
He hung up and stared at the silent phone in his hand. Roy didn't give him the opportunity to change his mind, grabbing the phone and removing the battery, before returning it.
"I hung up on my father," Lamperouge whispered.
"The situation called for it." More gently, Roy added, "I'm sure your father will understand the circumstances."
"No, you don't understand. I hung up on my father." Lamperouge's eyes widened. "Nobody does that. Shit. I was so rude."
For the situation, Kallen thought he had been exceptionally polite. It wasn't his fault that his father couldn't take a hint. Even if he had been rude, nothing justified the level of fear in his eyes. What could his father even do compared to the men actively hunting them down?
"Lelouch," Roy said.
"Shit. Why did I hang up?" Lamperouge mumbled, completely out of it.
Slowly and quietly, as if approaching a wild animal, Roy said, "Listen to me, Lelouch. Is there anything you can do right now? No. So what I need you to do is focus. Right here and now. We'll work things out afterwards, but first, we have to take care of the hostiles."
Lamperouge nodded stiffly, his breath calming. His face smoothed, and he straightened. It was as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. "I'll take the radio a few rooms down, act as a distraction."
Roy grimaced. "You're staying with Lady Stadtfeld. I'll do it. We'll regroup by the formal room."
"I'm not staying with him," Kallen hissed. Lamperouge was absolutely insane.
"You don't get a choice." He passed over the walkie-talkie and went through a series of signs, almost too fast to follow.
She hated their silent language. They could be discussing anything from dinner to her demise. As Roy slipped out of the room, she studied Lamperouge, looking for any sign of his previous distress or an upcoming breakdown. He ignored her and turned on the walkie-talkie, resulting in a faint crackling.
At a small thump on the other end, he waved her forward and stepped out into the hall. They clung to the wall as they quietly began to make their way back to the well lit rooms. Upon recognizing the foyer through an open room, she tapped his shoulder. He flinched and glared at her.
"We can escape," she tried to explain.
He snorted and shook his head.
"Why?" she hissed. The exit was clear.
"We don't abandon our comrades," he answered coldly. "The most important lesson you learn in Basic."
"We're both going to die because you have to follow some bullshit Britannian rules," she growled. "Clearly, the regular rules don't apply to you. No, you're some corrupt soldier who has no issue going back on their word and killing an unarmed man without even a trial. But because you decide to follow one stupid army rule, we're going to die. I have no idea how Nunnally can even stand you."
"You done?" he asked, his eyes narrowed. "Good. For the record, in Japan, we would definitely be fighting to the death."
Her blood turned to ice.
"I don't care what you think of yourself, Lady Stadtfeld, but others definitely do. Nunnally says you're an ace. I would like you to consider how much Britannia doesn't want such assets falling into the enemy's hand. And to clear the air, that man signed his death warrant the minute he only thing I denied him was the chance to kill one of us and a possible detour to an OSI cell when this is all over. Either way, he would have been dead by afternoon tea tomorrow."
"I'm not—"
"Japanese?" He raised an eyebrow. "You can say whatever you wish. Actions always speak louder. All I've heard from you so far is your disdain for the military and myself, although I'm not sure what I have done to deserve it.
"You—"
No, she couldn't say anything further. He knew too much. Not only about her, but also the man's fate. Why had he signed his death warrant by attacking? None of them were important to have that kind of pull in the government. There was no reason for the OSI to be interested—and a violent shiver didn't run down her spine at the thought of the Emperor's enforcers. Was he bluffing? But then there was the second phone. And a mother who probably worked in black-ops.
Her mouth dried. What had she done? He knew. He and Roy were black-ops. The pieces lined up too perfectly from their general evasiveness to their bewildering connection to nobles. And now a person with untold number of connections—powerful ones from what Lord Ashford had insinuated—knew that she didn't fully consider herself as a Britannian.
Kaguya was going to be livid. What if he decided to investigate her? Unlike his sister, he was loyal to Britannia... Just like Brian who had renounced his country. What if Brian told Lamperouge of their treasonous conversation? Kallen was beyond screwed.
"I'm a loyal servant of the Empire," she said instead.
The crackling turned to soft music, and Lamperouge set it down inside a flower pot before turning up the volume. "You're merely a student. Admittedly, one that works for Lord Ashford but still a student. You can hardly claim to be a loyal servant if you have brought nothing to Britannia."
She stumbled as she tried to keep pace and silently swore that she would never let her father convince her to wear something this impractical again. What Lamperouge said had sounded like an ultimatum. She was all too well aware that it could be easily argued that she sabotaged Britannia by abstaining from service as an ace.
Lamperouge froze in a doorway and pulled her back. From his pockets, he pulled out the toy flashlight and turned it on. An answering flash of light had his shoulders sag in relief. They waited as footsteps neared and Roy finally rejoined them. They said nothing to each other, only acknowledging another with a nod before resuming their previous formation with Roy in front, clearly the leader.
Finally, they stopped inside a room. Angry voices shouted from the opposite side of the wall. Smirking, Roy revealed a small peephole, and Kallen let out a breath of relief as she saw her father beaten, but alive.
"How hard is it to find a damn teenager?' the man in the center screamed. "The girl, not the useless boy. He's worthless."
"They're here for you," Roy said, surprised.
Kallen stared. "How was that not obvious? Why would anyone want to kill either of you?"
"I'm still listed as the sole heir to the company on my parents' will," he said. "And Lelouch wins every month with people plotting to kill him."
"How?"
"He has a unique talent for pissing people off."
She could believe it. He was insufferable. Lamperouge rolled his eyes, accompanied by a strange gesture.
"Look," her dad said, "I am sure we can come to an amenable arrangement. We can make a deal and pretend this never happened."
"Like hell we are," Charles snarled. "You bastards are going to pay."
To her side, Roy massaged his forehead.
"How much is your employer paying you?" her father asked. "There are eight of you here. How does ten thousand each sound?" An explosion shook the building. "Twenty-thousand?"
"Boss, let's just kill them and get out of here."
"We get nothing without the girl," the leader said. "The boss wants to make an example of her."
Her dad struggled against his bonds. "Don't you dare touch her."
"You will be fine. It would be a shame for the Stadtfeld line to end. You are an old, proper family. Consider this a favor and a lesson."
Lamperouge made a soft noise, his hands suddenly moving rapidly. For a moment, anger darkened Roy's face before he nodded. She clenched her teeth to stop herself from asking what they had discerned. They wanted her dead. Plenty of people did to curb Lord Ashford's influence.
"Let's go," Roy ordered.
She followed him nervously. They had to have something planned to leave their little spy hole, but what could they hope to accomplish when their family was acting as hostages.
A blow struck the back of her knees, and she screamed. Roy was turning, too slow to be of help because she could feel the cold muzzle of a gun against her head.
"Lelouch, don't do this," he said, hands raised calmingly.
"Let me pass or I shoot," Lamperouge said. She drove her elbow repeatedly into his side to no effect. "Stop resisting."
"You bastard," she yelled as he dragged her into the room. Of course he would turn on her. She was their ticket out of here. She shouldn't have let her guard down. "I will kill you. Let me go."
Oblivious to the guns pointed at him, Lamperouge walked right into the center of the room. "I want in."
The leader's lip twitched. "You're one of the rats giving us trouble."
"I don't want to die, and I heard the lord offer you twenty thousand, yet you didn't react. Your boss is paying more, so for helping you resolve your little problem, I want my cut."
She couldn't believe him. He was handing her over for this? "I will make you regret this."
"You have some guts walking in here," the leader said. "Instead of giving you a share of the profits, why don't I kill you and cut out the middleman."
"Between the two of us, I think I can kill her faster than you can give the order to kill me," Lamperouge said. "And you don't want a corpse to make an example. No, you want everything. You want the company's wealth. You want to destroy Lord Ashford's alliances. And most of all, you want her to confess to everything possible, so people think her death is justified and not investigate it too deeply. Killing a noblewoman brings the type of heat your boys can't afford. Your neighbor would sell you out."
The leader grimaced and lowered his gun. The others in the room followed suit. The cold barrel continued to kiss her scalp. "Hand her over, and we'll give you five percent."
"So you can shoot me immediately afterwards. Wire the money first," Lamerouge said.
"I knew we couldn't trust you," Charles hissed. "You're selling out just like that?"
"Just like that," Lamperouge said. "Do we have a deal?"
"Yes," the leader finally ground out. "Five thousand. Where to?"
Lamperouge rattled off a string of numbers. "You're going to have to turn off the jammer for that to go through. I'm not an idiot."
The leader grimaced but signaled to one of his men. A phone buzzed behind her.
"You mind taking her? She bites," Lamperouge said. He pushed her forward slightly, and finally the gun had moved.
"Happily," the leader said and moved forward.
"Good. Duck," Lamperouge ordered.
Something about his tone demanded obedience, and Kallen obeyed. Three loud gunshots in quick succession pierced the air, followed shortly afterwards by another, four. And then another, five. The last man finally fell to the ground, taken out by the frail grandmother whose cane had suddenly turned into a sword. A hand entered her field of view, and she angrily swatted it away. She did not need the bastard's help.
"Is that you, Roy?" the grandmother shouted as she began freeing everyone. "What took you so long? Visits aren't the only thing you seem to procrastinate on."
"I'll strive to do better," Roy mumbled as he stopped besides Kallen. "How are you?"
"Fine," she lied. Every muscle in her body was sore.
"Go to your family," Lamperouge said, not looking up from his phone. "I'll handle things here." He turned to her and offered a deep, humble bow. "My sincere apologies for your rough treatment."
Her dad stumbled out of his chair, saving her from having to answer as he swept her into a hug. His warm lips pressed against her forehead. "I thought I lost you."
"I'm here, Dad." She swallowed and blinked the tears out her eyes. His skin was beginning to purple. Compared to him, she was completely unharmed.
He set her down with another kiss and turned to Lamperouge, observing him intently. "I can't say I am pleased that you pointed a gun at my daughter's head."
"Understandable," Lamperouge said. "My sincere apologies for any undue stress my actions caused. It was the most expedient way to resolve the situation."
"You're quite impertinent to make such decisions," her dad said. "Have we met before?"
"Not to my knowledge," Lamperouge said. "Perhaps you saw me in passing at Lord Ashford's facilities. I help with checking the school's security."
Kallen scowled at the reminder. "He's Nunnally's brother."
"The blind girl?"
"Junior Student Council President would be more accurate." Lamperouge's smile was slightly too sharp. He clearly had Nunnally's talent of completely ignoring social standing. "Milly— My apologies, Lady Ashford considers her like a younger sister which is fortunate for the student body. Otherwise, Lady Ashford's festivities would run unchecked."
"Surely, Lord Ashford would step in," Kallen said desperately. There was no way that Milly's events could get worse. She was kidding herself. Milly absolutely would if left to her own devices.
Lamperouge shrugged. "Her antics remind him of his late wife."
"My... apologies," her dad said, startling her. "I am a little high strung after such an ordeal. Forgive me. You ensured my daughter remained unharmed and saved my own life. For that, you have my gratitude."
"Then I can expect this will not affect the negotiations?"
"Simple unpleasantness. A risk when doing business unfortunately. I must wonder who would be so brazen. It wasn't what I expected."
"So you were aware that you were being targeted?"
"Um, yes. Simple poisons and sabotage. Easily taken care of."
Lamperouge frowned. "You should ask Lord Ashford to hire an investigator. While not necessarily the same party, they considered you important enough to blow the cover of a well placed spy. I assume your home's security is impeccable?"
"Lord Ashford—" her dad began.
"Yes, he's always been excruciatingly careful with the safety of his employees and allies." Lamperouge glanced at the other family reunion, complete with eager hugs. "If I have to guess, the perpetrator is an enemy of Lord Ashfords who disagrees with his policies concerning commoners. Had your daughter died, Fadiman & Jenkins would have been ruined. A successful assassination in their home... The plan was too hastily put together so your leak is recent."
"I trust my staff," her dad said, affronted. "They have all undergone extensive background checks."
Lamperouge raised an eyebrow. "Coin loosens many tongues. The Fadimans keep everything potentially sensitive among family members which drastically reduces the chance of a leak. I would ask yourself who knows of your other secrets although perhaps your daughter's loose lips are at fault there." A uniformed man stepped through the doorway. "Excuse me, I have to deal with this."
The moment he left the room, her dad grabbed her shoulder and steered her to the corner of the room. "What did he mean by that?"
Kallen cringed. "He knows that I am— You know."
"How?"
"Apparently, I'm relevant to Ashford Academy's security."
"Have you done anything?" he asked desperately.
"No." Yes. He also knew that she wasn't loyal. "I said some things though..."
He pressed his temple. "It was about the army, wasn't it? Damn it, Kallen. You can't badmouth the military. They're fanatic about it."
"Nunnally does," she grumbled. "It's not that unusual."
"Did you tell her anything?"
Kallen nodded. "But it's Nunnally. She's—" Potentially engaging in treason herself so would definitely never reveal anything to her brother. Telling her father that was impossible. It put her friend at risk and destroyed her dad's illusion that Kallen had adjusted well to Britannian life. And if he became suspicious, he could undercover her espionage attempts. "She won't say anything."
Unimpressed, he glared at her. "Or she's a honeytrap."
"That's not—"
"Fine. It's a little unusual… as long as you didn't do anything." He inhaled sharply. "Was there anything else?"
She bit her lip but crumbled under the stern gaze. "I think he and the Fadiman son are black-ops. He had a phone... And there's stuff about their family which makes no sense. Also—" She paused at his slowly dawning horror. Swallowing, she added, "Lord Ashford knows them. Nunnally and Euphie both have connections that he thought I could benefit from."
"Just to make sure I understand, he has a personal connection to the Ashfords, has noble allies whom Lord Ashford thinks are worthy of cultivating, and works black-ops along with his entire family possibly?" Her dad ran his hand through his hair. His shoulders sagged, and he continued softly, "And he has reason to be suspicious of you, Kallen? If he or the military starts digging, will they find something?"
Apparently, she hadn't fooled her dad as well as she thought she did. Lips pursed, she nodded.
"I love you, but— Fucking hell. He has us pinned in a corner." He glanced at the elder Fadiman slowly approaching them. "I guess I'm suddenly struck by incredible gratitude for their son protecting my daughter that I've forgotten our previous disagreements."
New York, Homeland
Roy left Lelouch, unable to suppress his worried frown, but Lelouch had ordered him to go, so he did. They would talk later, and Roy would try to broach the topic of his father. The phone call shouldn't have elicited such fear. Anyone reasonable person would understand. Nothing about lelouch's father struck him as reasonable.
If his father was— No. He couldn't consider that at the moment. The red book he spotted in Lelouch's luggage could've been something else. Maybe he was mistaken and Empress Marianne took another. Lelouch always had too many books.
His grandmother cackled and enveloped him in a warm, bony hug. "It's good to see you again, boy. Oh, let me look at you. Have you been remembering sunscreen?"
Roy's face warmed. "Grandma—"
"Oh, hush. It's been too long, and you've been avoiding us. Fiona said her granddaughter saw you and Selena a few days back. I couldn't believe that my favorite grandson hadn't decided to grant me the pleasure of his company. I've had to listen to Charles ramble on about his big promotion until my poor ears ring." Her voice became serious. "I know you have a good head on your shoulders, but what were you thinking pushing forward like that with the wedding? You're losing cards faster than you're gaining them. And the stunt with your friend—"
"You should have stopped him," his father said sternly, although he offered him a welcome pat on the back. "We can't risk alienating nobles. You know that. Not to mention if we lose this deal, then the Gellerts will grab it."
Charles stopped before him, arms crossed. "Your friend is absolutely insane, and you tied me up."
Roy had perhaps taken a little too much vindictive pleasure in doing so. At the reproachful looks from his family, especially his uncle who was glaring at him from behind Charles, he lowered his head in apology. "It was a necessary tactical decision. Carrying you would have slowed us down, not to mention the coughing and retching which would have eliminated the advantage of surprise. You were being stubborn."
"My son has experience," his uncle said. "Something which you definitely lack."
"And you just blew a potential deal sky high," Charles hissed. "As for your friend? He was agitating Lady Stadtfeld from the moment he introduced himself."
Roy's smile felt too tight.
"Roy," his mother said sternly.
Roy had protested the decision, but... "It was Lelouch's call to make."
"How?" Charles asked. "You're his senior."
"And he is my superior," Roy answered as his mother enveloped him in a hug. "I followed protocol."
His father turned, observing Lelouch who was holding a quiet conversation with Lord Stadtfeld. "Please, be serious."
The truth was even more unbelievable.
Laughter bubbled in his chest, begging for release. Nobody would ever believe Lelouch was Zero. He had taken that role at the age of sixteen—or was it even younger?—and won countless battles. But he was still a child and until someone stood by his side watching him command the battlefield that was all they saw.
Tricking the new recruits though was absolutely hilarious and never got old. They knew of the Gosling, their battle hardened commander who went toe to toe with the Count. Then there was Lelouch who constantly looked as if he should gain a pound or two. When they finally connected the two, a moment of wide-eyed realization followed as their head inevitably turned to Lelouch's direction, and they debated how much groveling was necessary. It was an excellent reminder to watch one's tongue.
"Lelouch is my direct superior," Roy repeated. They still didn't believe him. "I wouldn't be able to do his job."
And now they thought he was an idiot. Roy couldn't win. He had strayed too far from the expected path and was paying the price. His family would move to someone else if Roy couldn't fulfill his duties as the heir. It stung.
His parents were healthy; there was no reason for them to rush things. He should still have time to mend things and prove himself capable. But training an heir took time, and why should they wait for him to turn things around when plenty of capable and eager employees had already proved themselves.
"And to think you were always so perfect as a kid," mocked Charles. "You got complacent."
"No, I just don't prioritize my future over everyone else's." Roy sneered. "You though have your head stuck up so far inside your—"
"Roy," his mother barked. "Now we all have our occasional missteps. I'm sure your cousin is very sorry"—doubtful—"for his own. Nothing you have done is too egregious and can be fixed with some simple course correction."
Wary, Roy's attention flicked to the door and the only escape. His defensive objection stalled on his tongue at the sight of a military uniform. More worrying was the man besides the soldier. Roy could've sworn he had seen him following them the other day.
"That was unusually fast," his grandmother noted. "Sometimes I swear the military needs a lesson in punctuality."
"Mother," his uncle hissed.
"I lost three sons, one daughter, and a grandson to them. I can criticize them whenever I damn well please." She sniffed "Nobody listens to the rambling of a crazy old woman anyway."
"I'll take care of it," his mother said. "I'd rather our security handle the investigation than whoever's payroll they are on."
In the corner, Lelouch finally peeled away from the Stadtfelds, heading to the door. His role as Zero would inevitably complicate an investigation.
"Mother," Roy said, stopping her. "Lelouch can handle it."
"Excuse me? They'll need his statement perhaps, but this happened at our home." She grimaced. "I at least have a responsibility to our employees who might have been affected."
"Boy!" his grandmother barked, waving her cane at Lelouch. "Come over her and let me take a look at you."
Eyes drawn together in bewilderment, Lelouch pivoted and awkwardly stopped before them. Bowing stiffly, he said, "My sincere apologies if my actions have in any way caused you undue stress. I'm deeply honored to visit the home of a dear friend of mine."
"I'm much too old for you, dear."
A slight jerk betrayed Lelouch's surprise. "I only meant to express the appropriate degree of respect for the family of a friend I hold in such high regard."
"Perhaps avoid covering our walls in blood next time? It is a pain to clean," she said.
"Of course, and let me make amends by taking care of the bureaucratic nightmare standing in your door," he said and demonstrated a parting bow.
Roy frowned as his mother stepped forward to follow. She lacked the necessary clearance to make any headway.
"Stay," his grandmother ordered. "We haven't seen Roy in ages. If the boy volunteered to deal with that headache, let him handle it."
"But, Mother—"
"Stay," his grandmother repeated and his mother obeyed. "The matter with the Stadtfelds should take precedence for now."
His father grimaced. "If there's anything left to salvage after the boy's stunt. I don't even want to know what he was saying." He shook his heads. "I swear kids nowadays have no manners."
"Strange, I found them impeccable," his grandmother said. "Roy could learn much from his friend. You too, Charles. God knows you need it."
"You didn't see him! He was insulting Lady Stadtfeld and he kept toying with a knife," Charles said. "He clearly has no class, and we shouldn't entertain him because he complimented you."
His grandmother burst out laughing. "I'd say he has more class than all of us. Literally." Her piercing gaze shifted to Roy. "Your friend isn't a commoner."
Roy tugged his collar. "It's... complicated."
"Most certainly."
"How..."
She snorted. "Tell your friend that using an outdated bow is a big giveaway. Only nobles with too much time and power on their hands bother with such flourishes."
"Please," Charles scoffed, "he probably picked it up sometime to show off. There's no way he is a noble."
Once, Roy would've agreed. Lelouch acted nothing like his mental image of a noble. Then again, Gino acted even less like one. But the evidence had piled high sky regarding Lelouch's heritage and the very real possibility—
"It's not my fault you're blind," his grandmother said and rapped Charles on the ankles with her cane. "Did that look like the bow of someone who just used it the first time?"
His father sighed. "Let me talk to Lord Stadtfeld and hopefully smooth things over. We do need some agreement with the Ashfords if we're going to encroach further on the noble's market."
Ten minutes later, having led their guests outside, he returned, stupefied.
"That bad?" his mother asked.
His father shook his head. "Lord Stadtfeld agreed to return... He was incredibly understanding given the circumstances. I should have been begging for his forgiveness, yet he was asking for mine."
"Roy?" his mother asked accusingly. His face must have betrayed something.
"Lelouch..." He stalled, unsure how to word it. "Lelouch knows Lord Ashford. He may have leveraged that connection to smooth things over."
"You mean blackmail," his mother said, and Roy winced.
His uncle poured himself some scotch and stared at the doors. "We're about to be ruined."
"Does he have a death wish?" his father whispered. "Nobles always retaliate tenfold."
Sometimes, Roy wasn't sure himself. Lelouch had a tendency to run headfirst into danger, either by accident or design, and Roy wasn't always sure which was which. Back in Basic, he hadn't thought much of it when Lelouch willingly took the blame in an attempt to save the squad from the Drill Sergeant's wrath. Roy had done the same, after all. His decision had been born out of a sense of duty. He had been in charge, and therefore the failings of the squad was his responsibility.
For the longest time, Roy thought Lelouch had a misplaced sense of responsibility. Edgar had once said something to that effect as well. Perhaps, that was a part of it, but Lelouch never accepted the good that arose from his actions either. Before Roy had reorganized the division to save himself from drowning in paperwork—he still barely managed to keep afloat—Lelouch had positioned himself such that if anything went wrong he would be directly responsible.
"We'll be fine," Roy whispered. "Lelouch will have phrased it to keep the attention on him"
And that was the problem. Once again, Lelouch would bear all the risks and claim none of the rewards.
"You better hope that your trust isn't misplaced," his uncle warned. "I always had my doubts about you. There's no room for weakness. Only the strong may survive, but you were always too soft and hesitant to do what's necessary. I hope that your weakness hasn't doomed our families."
Clenching his fists, Roy turned away. He had done what was necessary multiple times with a heavy heart. Yet the moments that his family would've considered strength as he followed orders despite his instincts were his greatest shame. In the end, Lelouch had been always stronger, willing to turn his back on family, tradition, and expectations to do what he thought was right.
"Uncle," Roy said, barely able to restrain himself from spitting the word, "don't speak on things you don't understand."
There were times when Lelouch would behave increasingly erratic. When he would stop thinking ahead. When he stopped questioning and considering. When he protected those personally important at the cost of unnecessary lives and offered himself up at the altar. Times like now when Lelouch hadn't taken a moment to consider Lady Stadtfeld's feelings and killed the prisoner—Roy hadn't seen him move to attack.
Last time, it had been because of a battle plan that had gone awry and left forty dead. The time before they had blown up a terrorist building, only later learning that they had been offering refuge to civilians. What was it this time?
"We can't understand if you never tell us anything," his mother snapped. "I'm happy to have you home, but you have basically ignored us all this time. And now you're getting married? You didn't even ask us."
Hunching his shoulders, Roy took a step back. "I don't need your permission to marry."
"When it affects the family, you do," his father said and his uncle nodded. "Selena is a nice girl, but youthful love fades. You used to swear that you would marry—"
"Don't," Roy hissed and stubbornly looked away from Charles's smug face. "I'm going to marry Selena. It's too late to call off the wedding anyway without causing a scandal. You're welcome to attend, but that's it. Everything is taken care of."
"Well, you've certainly grown," his mother said. "We just need to do some course correction; you are young after all." His uncle and Charles scowled. "We won't interfere with your marriage, but you'll finally be requesting a transfer and making a name for yourself. Selena is bright enough that we can mold her into a worthy leader of Fadiman & Jenkins. You need to prove yourself as well. Do you understand?"
Roy's mouth dried. "Mother..."
"Or if you're going to insist on being stubborn, then you'll marry the Hoffens' daughter, Penelope." She raised a hand, stalling his objection. "Her family has agreed to you marrying Selena as long as their daughter takes precedence in inheritance."
"But—" Roy desperately looked around the room. Both of his parents gazed sternly. at him. There would be no negotiating with them. His uncle, face taunt, could perhaps be an option, but he would push for Roy to be disowned and Charles installed as the heir instead which was unacceptable. Lelouch's silver tongue was perhaps the only thing capable of resolving the situation.
"That's not fair!" Charles broke the tense silence. "Why does he get two girls?"
"Excuse me, I'm quite happy with Selena," Roy growled. She would be devastated, and the thought of the arrangement made Roy queasy.
"You can always transfer. We have multiple positions from which you can choose from," his father said. "That is an acceptable compromise for us."
"It's not that straightforward," Roy said. He raised his hand, stalling their reply. "Even if— I can't really explain, but it's not an option."
"Then you're marrying Penelope," his mother said.
Swallowing a scream, Roy raised his chin. "As I've been threatened with knighthood, I think that is a little more important than my upcoming wedding."
"Who threatens people with knighthood?" Charles asked, eyeing him disdainfully. "And who the hell would think you are worthy?"
"I can't say," Roy said. Empress Marianne was terrifying enough without breaking the terms of his NDA. "Transferring would remove whatever flimsy protection I have." Although he had a suspicion that after his knighting, he would be promptly returned to Lelouch's side.
"Politely turn them down, and explain you have family obligations," his mother said.
"I like breathing."
"Who?" she asked. At his silence, her eyes widened in fear. "You're supposed to stay away from nobles and keep your nose clean. What did you do?"
"I did my job. It's not my fault that she decided to test me, and I apparently passed." He bit his lip to prevent himself from spilling any further tidbits.
Thankfully, a sharp knock on the door stopped him from needing to explain any further. Lelouch bowed politely upon entering, and then again to his parents. At least he seemed to have calmed down somewhat, his face having regained some color.
His father turned to Lelouch, assessing him with narrowed eyes. "You serve with Roy, correct?"
"Yes, sir," Lelouch said.
"And tell me, what exactly does your division do?"
Brow furrowed, Lelouch turned to Roy. "You didn't tell them?"
Roy blinked. "I can't? I signed—"
"You're not supposed to sign anything without our lawyer," his mother said, aghast. "You're getting us a copy to review."
"That might not be possible," Roy said, rubbing the back of the head. "The content is... classified."
"Wait," Lelouch said, cutting through whatever outraged protests were about to spill from his parent's lips. "You read it, right? Roy?"
"I trust you," Roy said defensively. Edgar's death and Lelouch's subsequent kidnapping had exhausted him. They had barely escaped death by defeating the Count, so when Lelouch dropped a pile of papers before him and said that signing them would make their troubles disappear, Roy signed. "It's not like there was an option to not sign."
"Yes, but..." Lelouch groaned. "Do you know how much time I spent on that? And then you didn't even read it. Why does no one read what I give them? I swear I'm going to start putting in clauses regarding first born sons to make sure people paid attention."
"Or maybe include a short copy in plain English with the gist?" Roy asked.
Lelouch looked utterly horrified.
"Boy, what exactly did my son sign?" his father asked, stepping forward threateningly.
Lelouch took a deep breath. "I'm going to have to ask that anyone who isn't an immediate family member leaves."
"Who do you think you are?" his uncle growled. "We are all family and will listen together to whatever foolery comes out of your mouth."
"Legally, Roy cannot tell you."
Curiosity won over pride, and his father cleared his throat. "Norman, please. We will discuss this later if necessary, but you and Charles need to go."
The two left with much grumbling, and Lelouch faced his grandmother. "I'm sorry, you—"
"I'm not leaving," she said. "Not that it matters because while Roy may not be allowed to tell me, you are. Isn't that right, Your Highness?"
The room froze, and Roy turned to his friend, already knowing the truth. Neither of them could hide anymore.
"Excuse me?" Lelouch said on the other end of the tunnel. "I'm afraid that you are mistaken. I'm not—"
"A lady had a hair disaster one night, so I rushed over to her home to assist," his grandmother said, "I met a young girl in the hallway cleaning her dueling sword. Imagine my surprise when a year later, Prince Charles announces that the little girl hiding from the party was to be his Knight of Honor. A year afterwards, she defeats the former Emperor in a duel, and Emperor Charles takes the throne. Half-a-year later, he takes a commoner as a wife."
"That's an impressive story..."
She laughed. "I always remembered how lost she looked that night. It's quite a contrast to nowadays. People say you are like your father, especially in looks with blond hair, but you look remarkably like your mother."
"Thank you? I'm sorry. While we may share a name—"
"Just stop, Lelouch," Roy said, mustering the energy to end the charade. Perhaps Lelouch could talk his way out, but it would do more harm than good. His grandmother rarely changed her mind, even when she was wrong, and the rare times she set her foot down the family followed. "I know."
Lelouch's shoulders sunk. "How?"
"I saw your mother take the red book in your luggage from your office."
"She's not subtle," he grumbled and straightened, his posture suddenly becoming regal. Where before Roy could scarcely believe it, he could now. "My identity will not leave the room."
His parents dropped to their knees, the cane clattering to the ground, and his father said submissively, "I apologize for our earlier misconduct, Your Highness. Please forgive our transgressions, and we will naturally keep this quiet."
Roy wondered if he should also sink to his knees and pledge his allegiance or something. The worst his parents had done was treat him impolitely. Roy had dragged Lelouch against his will through exercise drills and had acted as his sparring partner. He had yelled at him and ordered him around. He had laid on the floor, incapacitated, as Art dragged him away.
"Pardon my knees, Your Highness," his grandmother said unapologetically.
"Roy," hissed his mother.
So he was supposed to bow? He turned to Lelouch, and the slight uncertainty in his friend's eyes stalled him. Lelouch had no idea as well.
"Oh shit," Roy mumbled, face heating up as memories of early conversations resurfaced. "I said— You heard me— I speculated on your parents'—"
"Damn it, Roy. I had forgotten that." Lelouch winced. "I never heard anything nor will we ever talk of that."
"At least Henry and Alex were such prudes that they always changed the subject?"
"Not talking about it."
"Roy?" his mother asked hesitantly, sparing him a brief glance, but otherwise keeping her gaze steadfastly trained on the floor. Roy's stomach twisted. She was terrified, and it was his fault. If it had been anyone but Lelouch they would be demanding retribution. Had it been anyone but Lelouch they would never have managed to keep their royal status a secret.
"He had a major celebrity crush on my mother, and it was very awkward," Lelouch explained. "Thankfully you stopped after meeting her."
"You met Empress Marianne?" his mother asked, voice rising sharply. She flinched and resumed focusing on the ground. "My apologies, Your Highness."
"Twice," Roy mumbled.
"Three times," Lelouch corrected. "She was there when my sister visited."
"Right," he mumbled. The memory had faded when compared to the devastating news regarding the bombing of Truro, and their subsequent deployment. "Didn't you have a loud yelling match? And something about a monkey?"
Lelouch grimaced. "Neither of our finest moments, and let's keep it at that."
Wisely, Roy kept his mouth shut. Knowing him, it had been an insult to his father... who was also the Emperor. He could feel an oncoming headache. There were so many conversations which he would have to reframe. And Lelouch's tally of treasonous statements had just skyrocketed. Then again, what laws even applied to royalty? No wonder Lelouch had such a flagrant disregard for rules. They didn't apply to him in the first place.
"Please, stand," Lelouch said awkwardly. "You may rise?"
"You're terrible at this," Roy noted, not sure whether to be relieved. This was still Lelouch. He simply had lied about his identity for years and never exercised his authority when others had beaten him up. Nor had he argued against his placement in a division which was basically a death trap... "How the hell did you get sent to the 712th?"
"The mortality rate for people named Lelouch and around my age is alarmingly high," he mumbled.
An assassination attempt. Who had the influence to pull that off? Why hadn't the Emperor stopped them? Empress Marianne's accident... Had they caught the perpetrator, they would have paraded them down the street to a gleeful execution. Instead... nothing happened.
But more importantly... "How old are you?"
Lelouch cringed. "Seventeen."
"You were twelve?" Roy had certainly suspected, but two full years? He understood that Alex didn't have much of a choice. He had been living on the street before. Of course he would jump at the opportunity for a roof over his head the instance someone overlooked his stature... But Lelouch came from a background of unbelievable luxury. "Why?"
"Later," Lelouch said, his eyes flicking to his parents who had stood and watched them with wary eyes.
"Fine." Roy took a deep breath. "I got it. It's fine. Shit, I have so many questions."
A sudden murderous impulse surged through him. Lelouch's parents had let him enlist at the age of twelve...
"How may we help you, Your Highness?" his father asked, his eyes lowered, and a far cry from the man Roy was used to.
"Roy won't be transferring," Lelouch said coldly. "Nor will he be marrying anyone he doesn't wish to. Your son is a valued member of my team, and I will protect his happiness. I hope that is clear."
His father, pale as a sheet, swallowed. "Yes, Your Highness."
Scaring his parents wasn't necessary, and like every time that Lelouch went too far, Roy kicked his shins.
"Ow." Lelouch scowled, and Roy's stomach clenched. He hadn't been thinking, just following old motions. One didn't kick royalty. Then the scowl broke into a fond grin, and Roy could see the relief in his eyes. Lelouch needed Roy, the friend; not Fadiman, the subordinate.
"It's rude to eavesdrop," Roy said, ignoring the horrified stares of his parents.
Lelouch's shoulder shook with laughter.
Things would have to change. For one, Roy couldn't plan how to destroy Lelouch's father anymore, nor could he ignore the political time bomb sitting in his lap. If the division learned the truth, he had no idea how they would react, and the truth would come out eventually. It would be best to release the information on their terms, but even without asking, Roy knew Lelouch would say no.
"You're Zero," his grandmother guessed, her face impassive.
"Be reasonable, Ruth" his father said.
Roy shook his head as Lelouch looked towards him. There had been enough lies.
"Your grandmother is annoyingly astute," Lelouch said.
She grinned sharply. "A regular soldier wouldn't say team. Not to mention, the potential pool of candidates is quite small, and a royal secretly in the military expanded it by one. Or would your parents have allowed you to continue to serve as a common foot soldier?"
"No... But Cornelia knows more than you do yet hasn't put the pieces together," he said with surprising amounts of bitterness. And of course Lelouch would know General Cornelia. She had learned from Empress Marianne.
His grandmother stepped forward, leaning on her cane. "We will abide by Roy's wishes. But if you truly claim to care for him, then he cannot be knighted. That would be detrimental to his happiness."
"It wasn't Lelouch," Roy said although he could understand why his grandmother would jump to the conclusion. "Empress Marianne... She made the offer when Lelouch was absent."
"Empress Marianne offered you knighthood?" his mother said weakly. "And you refused her?"
"Like I said, I can't exactly decline."
Their eyes shifted to Lelouch. "She hasn't backed down. The only thing I've managed to accomplish was making her upset that Roy figured out how to get a message through her mail screening. She clearly didn't want me to know. Roy knowing might make her back off... But I don't know. She would rather have me knight him which doesn't exactly help. On the bright side, these things generally take forever, so you'll be warned a few months before it happens."
His mother pursed her lips, clearly unsatisfied yet unable to do anything. If Empress Marianne wanted something, none of them would be able to stop her. Lelouch had the best chance, but Roy knew their relationship was strained. He had been hoping that his parents would know of something... and perhaps they would. Time brought many solutions, after all. Time was at least something Lelouch could buy for now.
His grandmother sniffed. "And what of his honors? There are certain expectations which Roy cannot meet working on classified assignments. You are effectively destroying his future by keeping him with you."
Lelouch flinched. "I am sure I can arrange something."
"I don't want false accomplishments," Roy protested.
"They'd barely be false considering everything you do," Lelouch said, a glare telling him to back-off.
"It wouldn't be credible," his grandmother added. "Not to mention he is lacking the appropriate networking opportunity."
Roy crossed his arms. That was too harsh. "I met Empress Marianne."
"And Gino," Lelouch added.
"Right, he's technically a Weinberg." His family looked at him with disbelief. "And you... As well as your sister. I'm pretty sure she'll make a name for herself."
"I tell her you said that," Lelouch said softly.
Roy snorted. "The fact that she hasn't done anything stupid yet is remarkable considering you're her brother."
"Thanks."
"I'm just recalling the number of times I had to scrub that bathroom back in Basic because you couldn't keep your mouth shut. She's going to school and has a healthy social life. That's incredibly tame in comparison. And she hasn't blown anything up yet."
"And is the reason why we have a rule against trying to catch Santa on the official list." Lelouch pinched his nose. "I need to talk to Brian..."
His grandmother cleared her throat.
"A few more years," Lelouch said. "Then I'll make sure Roy has the necessary opportunities."
His grandmother narrowed her eyes. "Very well, Your Highness."
"I'll need all your surveillance footage for the investigation," Lelouch said. "All of it. Afterwards, the past few hours will be scrubbed, permanently."
"It would be our pleasure," his grandmother said at the clear order and hobbled to the door. Outside, Charles and his uncle immediately jumped to their feet. She clicked her tongue. "Help the young man with accessing our footage. All of it. I better not hear any trouble, or it'll be porridge for the week."
Roy caught Lelouch's arm as he passed. "You'll get what you need, but we need to talk in private later."
"You have your own inquisition to face first. I'm sorry." Lelouch smiled. "And thank you. You took it remarkably well."
The door shut again, leaving Roy with his very displeased and terrified parents as well as his grandmother, who was unusually energized by the entire affair. An absolutely wonderful combination.
Worldbuilding Thoughts:
- Cell phone jammers work by flooding a very specific frequency which disrupts the connection between the phone and the cell tower. The frequencies which are used for our cell phone are assigned by a regulating body (FCC in US) which is necessary to prevent interference between different devices. Certain frequencies are allocated for consumer items (like garage doors or rc cars), but others are reserved for radionavigation, broadcasting, or even astronomy. Here, Lelouch's secondary phone is for secure calls and works on a different frequency which is why it was unaffected.
- I think it's canon that Lelouch looks very similar to his mother, but irl, I found that most people claim someone looks like their parents based on their eyes and hair. So Lelouch running around as a blond draws a more obvious connection to Charles for anyone who remembers his pre-wig days.
Author's Note:
Roy knows! Or rather has stopped sticking his head into the sand. Kallen meanwhile, to borrow a metaphor from a reviewer, has realized that she's been swimming in a pool of sharks. She's just mistaken as to what type of sharks they are.
I hope everyone enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I had fun writing it. What did you think of the Fadiman family? Or Kallen's father because I think the fandom tends to portray him very negatively?
(Sorry for accidentally updating book 1 last time. In my defense, I was really tired.)
The next chapter will be in two weeks. See you then. :)
Thank you x1tears1X and Spaded Ace18 on FFN and Dark for your help with betaing.
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj