Recap: York sent off Alex to the OSI in Area Eleven. Alex is now tasked with discovering who the new Black King is. Kallen is with 71th Division although she is unaware of their true nature.
Chapter 25: When Dealing with Spies
Inside sources paint a shocking scene of late last night within the Britannian Imperial Palace. Servants lie on the ground, slowly bleeding to death as the Butcher's son, Prince Lelouch, stands in the midst with knives in his hand. Apparently, he and Princess Carine came to blows over a disagreement. In an act of wanton cruelty, the Emperor stripped her of her rank and cast her out of the family for her display of weakness.
While fights between the royal children are uncommon, the Emperor previously punished both parties involved, but not this time. Instead, he allowed his son to walk free without a single reprimand. Clearly, the prince takes after his mother in character more than we thought, and his lithe body hides the frame of a ruthless killer. In this way, he stands apart from his siblings. They kill through careful, deliberate written orders; not with their own hands.
If he is capable of slaughtering the innocent servants standing by—one died by a knife to the eye—we must wonder if something untoward happened with his seduction of Leila Malcal. Is she simply another victim in his mad power hunting schemes? What was his real purpose in Australia?
—Point de Vue: Breaking News: Princess Carine Stripped of Royal Favor after Brutal Fight with the Butcher's Son.
Area Eleven, Tokyo
They heard the shouts and chanting long before they neared the Imperial Palace. Alex adjusted his cap as civilians rushed by them in eager cries, water bottles and backpacks in hand. Besides him, Mark didn't bother hiding his scowl, and his hand had turned a pale white as he clutched his phone. Mobs were always dangerous, and this protest was far larger than they initially expected.
"We should take the other way around," Mark hissed. "Don't know what those idiots there are doing, but I don't want to get caught up in the inevitable stampede."
"You'd prefer to die elsehow?" Alex joked, pulling out his notebook.
Their quest to ascertain the new Black King was going terribly slowly. Their only lead remained that girl from the blurry photo. None of the Babel Tower workers or those from nearby remembered her companions, but they recalled her childish name of Euphie. Probably named after Princess Euphemia, but that put her at a terribly young age. Lord Ashford meanwhile refused to release his student list, and the only ping on her name was in Area Two—a thirty year old woman in a labor camp for minor thievery.
"I'm thinking a firefight," Mark said. "A glorious end, and I'll bleed out right after finally putting the scum to rest."
Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm going. With that many people, maybe someone heard something."
"We wouldn't be having issues if we just nabbed the bellboy. A few minutes in, the kid would've sung, and bye-bye, Black King."
"More likely that we'd have tipped them off instead," Alex said, feigning an excuse. "Probably would've lied too."
"But at least we'd have something. Our lord is going to be pissed at our lack of progress. It looks like we're doing nothing."
He shook his head tiredly, not bothering with a reply. Even York understood the necessity of research first. There was a proper order to things. Still, he never had quite the same success as Art who would sit in a pub for weeks on end, silently collecting info. The slow and tedious method always granted them more actionable results, but patience was in short supply in the OSI.
They took a right and froze as the symphony of cheers overwhelmed them. Were the Emperor to formally arrive in Area Eleven, they would've expected a turnout of that size. Small pockets of calm drifted through the chaos as the crowd parted for the few nobles with their lavish capes in attendance. At the edge of the crowd, the distinctive knightmares of the Purists attempted some semblance of crowd control, but short of crushing the people gathered, could do nothing against the rippling masses.
"Well, fuck," Mark said.
Alex rubbed his eyes. The sight didn't change. Thousands of people jostled in the crowd before them. How had they been able to coordinate so effectively without tipping off the OSI? For now, they brimmed with nationalism, flags of Britannia and Empress Marianne flying above them, but that could easily change. Especially if Prince Clovis became spooked.
How long until chants weren't enough to express their displeasure? How long until they decided to act against a royal, under the pretense that they had proven themselves weak?
"This is a shit storm," Alex whispered, drifting through the edge of the crowd by the storefronts. Most were closed with windows shuttered, but a few remained open in clear defiance. "Want a bagel?"
"Seriously?" Mark shook his head.
Alex shrugged and restrained himself from grabbing a wallet which was half falling out of a pocket. He pulled out his own and paid the vendor. "Thank you mister. When I heard of this, I made some amazing art. Do you want to see?"
The vendor chuckled. "That's alright lad, got more customers to serve."
"Oh... Do you know who I could talk to? Afraid I've gotten quite turned around in the crowd."
The vendor pointed across the street. "You'll find the Ashford booth over there. Speeches will be closer to the palace." He chuckled and pointed to the right. "That way, lad."
"Thank you so much!" Alex shouted and spun around, grabbing Mark's hand. Quietly, he hissed, "Come on."
"What did you do that for?" Mark asked, yanking his hand back. "Shouldn't pay them anyway. Bunch of traitors."
"You should be quieter in case people hear," Alex warned. "Mind texting the team that's supposed to be here?" He squinted across the street. "Tell 'em to meet us at the intersection of Palace Main and 47th."
Far away enough to not draw attention, Alex observed the Ashford Academy students who were helpfully distributing water bottles and pamphlets. One of the shiny, colored papers fluttered past him on the ground, and Alex stooped to pick it up. Everything within was in perfect accordance with Imperial policy. The statements focused mostly on Empress Marianne's achievements and her love for the arts before giving a small bio of Andrew Cameron, best known for playing Captain Britannia. Again, all factual and drawing from celebrated, popular culture.
"Someone knows what they're doing," Alex mumbled. Someone who was exactly aware of what lines they could and couldn't cross. A dangerous opponent, wielding Britannia's own rules against her.
Mark elbowed him and nodded at a familiar, pink haired figure. While the blurry photo had been lacking identifying features, her posture was unmistakable. "Guess coming here wasn't a waste of time after all. I can draw her out to somewhere isolated and finally finish this ridiculousness."
A few other girls, plus a young boy, shouted her name and eagerly pulled her into a conversation.
"Her friends will come looking if we do it now," Alex said.
"Don't tell me you're squeamish. And does it matter? We're the OSI. They'll be too scared to do anything."
"I am sure Clovis thought the same when he assassinated that actor."
Mark groaned loudly, drowned out by sudden cheers from the crowd as Lady Milly Ashford stepped onto a makeshift podium, wearing the school's distinctive uniform. Nobility siding with peasants against a royal... This was such a mess.
"Hey Mark," a voice interrupted and an older agent—fully decked in the purple, blank, and pinks the protestors chose to wield—stepped up. Shawn was a burly, cheerful man, but his wide, pleasant, reassuring smile sent shivers down Alex's spine. Two days after arriving in Japan, he had walked past the detention block to see the man laughing like an old friend as he pulled off a prisoner's fingernails. "Did Above send you as backup? Either way, would love some help. Need a bigger distraction. The local gangs are prowling for instigators. Already lost two of my own to them."
"Dead?" Mark asked.
Shawn shrugged. "We'll see if they find their way back by the end of the week. A few low level thugs shouldn't be a challenge after all."
"We're here following a lead on the Black King," Mark answered. "Remember, Alex here? Has got instincts, so we've found the target—"
"Don't grab them here," Shawn ordered, scanning the crowd. "Worst thing we can do is set them off."
"We want them riled up," Mark grumbled.
"Not if we're the ones going to be blamed. Absolutely no Numbers here to pin it on, so they'll march right up to the palace. Knight Police can't even do much, not unless we want a massacre, and a bunch of dead school children is hard to spin positively. Not to mention the number of noble heirs roped into this damn mess."
"I'm a professional. They won't notice a thing."
Shawn scoffed. "So are the Black King's men. Barely even have a chance to pickpocket before some eagle eyed youngling screams at you. It's the Black King's network that ensured such a large turnout in the first place.'
"Pardon me," Alex said before slipping away. If criminal elements were taking the opportunity to keep the peace, they were undoubtedly on the hunt for agents. One didn't accidentally capture an agent. He adjusted his cap and hoped that nobody had made Mark and himself yet. Shawn most likely had been.
Approaching the Ashford stand with an easy smile, Alex discreetly studied the students assembled. A few greeted Lady Ashford as she returned, while others remained steadfast in their duty. There was some sort of command structure here; the level of organization required one. While the black King possibly could be the one who organized the entire affair without the students' help, a presumed associate of his was a student here.
"May I interest you in a pamphlet?" the pink haired girl from the photo, their target, Euphie asked.
His breath caught for a moment in surprise. Was she an innocent victim? A pretty girl like hers would fetch a high price in underground circles. Or was she a conspirator, perhaps even a trusted confidante? He coughed to cover his lapse and stretched out his hand. "Of course. For Prince Clovis to act in such an extrajudicial manner is such a travesty."
Her lips thinned. "I know. If he caused any offense, it should have been settled in our courts, not passed off as a cowardly suicide."
The slight lilt to her 'A's and 'E's as she continued her rant hinted at a buried accent. In her anger, some consonants became aspirated, and he puzzled over their origin. Noble, but not quite. The closest match he had was Lelouch when either half-asleep or driven to rage.
"To have so many people come together in solidarity warms my heart," Alex interrupted. "I am a big fan of his films. They truly show Britannia at its brightest. I only fear Prince Clovis shall do nothing, confined to his ivory palace. Our concerns will never even reach his ears."
She practically lit up and bound to the table, only to return with a list. "Here is a list of shops who have agreed to help. The only way for Prince Clovis to hear our cause is to impact economic activity within the region. All these stores either have exemptions or have already paid their tithe for the year. On the back is a list of places to avoid. They are all closely associated with His Highness."
He flipped the paper and winced at the numerous businesses which functioned as fronts for the OSI. Someone had been very thorough, yet studying her face, he could find no hint that she knew anything else. The girl was painfully earnest or a brilliant actor.
"Surely, there is more I can do. While commendable, these are merely pennies in the bucket."
"Well, we hope to arrange more marches to not let the issue fall out of public conversation." She tapped her chin, eyes darting away, and he squashed a victorious smirk. He almost felt bad manipulating her with a posh accent which she instinctively trusted. Now, he was a social peer and an upstanding member of society instead of an unscrupulous thief with nothing to his name or, even worse, a bloodthirsty OSI agent. "You should talk to Milly, I mean Lady Ashford. She is organizing everything."
Yet her eyes flicked past the stand where two girls were caught in an embrace. One of them was the real orchestrator. Using Lady Ashford as a cover was brilliant. Her noble heritage shielded her from the regular fall out, and even the OSI was leery of interfering with the Ashfords. A calculated move, same as the pamphlets.
"I couldn't possibly," Alex said. "She is so far above me... It would be incredibly rude."
Her eyes flickered, and she drew back, the smile more uneasy. Of a similar standing to Lady Ashford then? It could explain her accent.
"Excuse me," she said. "I need to help set-up in the back."
He watched her flee, frowning. He hadn't mean to scare her away. He still needed to determine what she had been doing at Babel Tower.
"You didn't do anything wrong. Euphie is moping because her boyfriend broke up with her," a red haired girl interrupted, a welcoming hand on his shoulder. "I'm Shirley by the way. We're actually packing up."
"May I help?" Alex asked.
She grinned enthusiastically. Way too trusting. Like Euphie. Neither of them would be trusted by the Black King, merely manipulated. "Thanks. Do you attend Ashford?"
"No, homeschooled with my older brother. I don't mind though. He is an excellent teacher when I'm struggling. I hope I didn't upset Euphie too much. Break-ups must be hard to deal with..."
Shirley winced. "Apparently, her sister freaked when she found out about her boyfriend. Used her account to send a very threatening email, challenging him to a duel of all things."
"That is hardly a reason to break up," Alex mumbled.
"I know! And Euphie was so embarrassed, but he didn't listen to her apology at all." She sniffed. "She deserves better than that bastard. Like how can he say he loves her when he gives up like that. If you love someone, you'll fight for them!" she finished with a dramatic fist punch into the air. Blushing, she withdrew it. "Sorry. Got a little carried away."
Alex chuckled. "Not to worry. I know I would do anything for my brother myself. Mortal peril is nothing."
Laughing, she led him to the back where they were steadily packing. "My dad used to say the same. That he would do anything for me or my mother. He used to be in the army, but he's a geologist now. Still, if Britannia ever needs him, he says he might return. He keeps sharp at the gun range, and sometimes he takes me too. Milly calls me silly, but I wonder sometimes if I should join the army like him. If I had any brothers, maybe it would be different, but someone has to go, you know."
"Well, take your time to decide," Alex advised, hand brushing past her as one of the boxes teetered ominously. "It's not a decision taken back easily."
"You're right. Sorry. Can't really tell the others this stuff. A friend of mine would bite my head off if she even knew I was considering it."
"Not a fan?" Alex asked.
"Not at all." Shirley sighed and picked up one of the boxes. "Her brother joined, and he's," she trailed off wistfully. "He's very brave. We moved here from Area Two... And do you remember the Count? My uncle died in that mess. I still can't believe the Count did all that, and for what? Sure, not everything is great but to try and rise up? I do not understand her at all."
Alex glanced at the treasonous crowd around them. Well, the mastermind certainly had her duped. There was no peaceful end to this. Prince Clovis was hardly going to capitulate to commoners. Only violence would arise from this. Hopefully not to a level where the Emperor would call upon Zero. Lelouch didn't like Japan... or rather, he liked it too much.
Shouts erupted from the other side of the plaza, and Alex's stomach clenched as a tidal wave of people surged towards them in desperate panic. Not a riot. This wasn't the work of the OSI, which at least had the damn sense to try and turn the crowd against itself. No, this was pure fear and panic.
Some of the Purist Knightmares turned, guns focusing on the crowd. A few broke away, facing their allies.
Fuck.
"Pack it up!" Lady Ashford shouted and without any of the expected decorum of a noble, picked up one of the boxes to load in the car.
"Get in, my lady!" the driver ordered. "We need to get you out of here."
"Not before everyone else," she snapped, her eyes alight in fury. She slammed another box into the trunk, and her hair flew free around her head as she spun between the approaching crowd. "Leave it. It's not worth it! Where the hell is Euphie? And Nunnally?"
"Nunnally left already with Nina," one of the girls bitterly replied.
Euphie rushed forward, her eyes wide as she stared at the crowd. Lady Ashford roughly grabbed her arm and pushed her into the car.
"Come on," Shirley urged.
Alex smiled bitterly. Her phone rested heavily in his pocket. Except he had another lead... Nunnally. She knew enough to perfectly thread the needle of protest and treason.
"I will be fine! I will see you next time." He waved to her before taking off and running. He stuck close to the edge of the buildings in case he needed to make a rapid escape. Behind him, more boots thundered, and his eyes widened as troops, dressed in the colors of Prince Clovis's royal guard, approached from the opposite end. He pushed himself against the wall as the crowd passed him.
The Viceroy was officially an idiot.
For a brief moment, the crowd paused. Survival instincts flaring at the immediate threat before them. A lone wolf broke free, charging forward. While he was quickly subdued in a flurry of strikes, it was enough to set the crowd off again. The meager lines of soldiers, thankfully only armed with batons, fell to the human tide as cameras rolled.
Picking the lock of the residential building before him, Alex groaned as he spotted Prince Clovis's Media Director standing in the fray with a camera rolling, undoubtedly a live feed.
Late that night, Alex stumbled safely into the OSI compound and his dorm room. Mark briefly lifted his head from his pillow, a red bruise covering his eyes and his lips split.
"You look like shit," Alex said.
"No thanks to you. Don't run off. We're partners." He dropped his head back and feebly grabbed the ice pack from the nightstand beside him. "That was an utter shit show."
"The protestors or the guard?"
"The guard. Damn idiots tried to detain me and wouldn't check my bloody ID in their system. Like protocol exists for a reason, and they had no damn regard for it all."
Alex fished the stolen phone out of his pocket. "Catch."
He flipped the pink device over in his hand. "Not your color."
"Our next lead. I bet our mysterious Euphie is in the contacts. Hopefully with a last name." Muscles stiff, he walked to the dresser and turned away to change, lest his face betrayed his feelings. Because there was a chance "Lamperouge" was in there as well. He couldn't impede the investigation, had to keep it moving at a reasonable pace. Else they would simply grab one of the girls off the street. "I don't know how much the Student Council was behind things—"
"They definitely were. So many students, and they brought their family, who told their damn friends. Going to be a damn pain to get authorization to bring in Lady Ashford."
"She's not in charge," Alex whispered, immediately regretting it.
Lelouch loved his sister. Would protect her at any cost. So it fell to Alex to do the same except she had potentially gotten mixed up in a mess way over head.
"The new Black King is probably using them as cover. After all, who would look twice at a bunch of school children. This is definitely beyond them."
"Should still check the upperclassmen to be safe," Mark said. "But you're right. Think we can get a promotion if we save a noble heiress from criminal clutches?"
"Definitely," Alex agreed jokingly. Anything to block out the reminder that when Lelouch was his sister's age, he had faced the Count and won.
Zeroth Division Base, Area Six
Lelouch stepped out of the helicopter onto familiar ground. Too long had he been away, and his eyes scanned the buildings nestled within the trees for the hints of the passage of time. The trees around the clearing had been trimmed, and the once rambunctious greenery on the ground had finally been conquered, leaving a muddy mess with clear tire tracks.
A few paces before him, Roy greeted him with a warm smile. "Happy to be back?"
"Definitely." Lelouch chuckled. "Slightly cooler here than in Pendragon or Japan. Thought I was going to melt."
"The glory of being on the opposite hemisphere." Roy settled into a comfortable pace on his left side. "I manage not to burn down the base in your absence. Not for a lack of trying. I would finally have some respite from the endless paperwork."
Lelouch snorted.
"How did your meeting go?" Roy asked quietly as they approached the interior of the compound.
The few soldiers on patrol jerked as they passed by, clearly suppressing the urge to salute. They still inclined their heads in a clear sign of respect before continuing on their way.
"Surprisingly productive," Lelouch answered. "Should we ever need assistance, I know a few generals who would be amenable. Their stance on the Numbers isn't clear, but they value merit more than blood which is to our advantage." He paused mid stride momentarily. "And my father was pleased."
"You met with him afterwards?" Roy confirmed hesitantly.
"Yes..." And despite having every excuse, his father hadn't disciplined him. He had simply stared at him with a long suffering stare before moving onto another topic. The lack of response made Lelouch's skin crawl. This version of the Emperor was unpredictable, thus even more dangerous. The anger which he once expected to hurtle at him in a devastating blow, now curled around him defensively. If Carine hadn't tried to kill him, his father wouldn't have bothered personally punishing her. "He favors me."
"Lelouch," Roy said, a befuddling hint of worry in his tone.
"It's fine. He does. He cares." Lelouch smiled. "I can't even say it was because of my mother either. She was on a mission and only returned near the end. He could have punished me before then. It is not like I would have told. Even after Carine and I almost killed each other, he only punished her. He could have done something small; my mother wouldn't have objected."
"Ca—Princess Carine?" Roy hissed. "Why were— You almost— How did he punish her?"
Lelouch clenched his fist and calmly said, "He ordered her whipped."
A strong hand stopped him on his shoulder, and Roy examined him with wide eyes. "Did he ever—"
"No. I never was stupid enough to do something to warrant that. She shouldn't have lied so badly." Lelouch shrugged and stepped away. He opened the door to his office which Roy had clearly moved in and took in the boxes of paperwork. "Well, it's less of a mess than my father's. I honestly expected worse. I am impressed."
"Don't change the subject."
Lelouch ignored him. "Any problems in my absence? Unexpected changes? Another visit from my mother?"
"The paperwork hardly matters. Your father—"
"—is pleased. I hardly see a problem. We, though, have work to do." Lelouch picked up a stack of stapled papers and skimmed through Pablo's neatly typed report on their supply situation. Clear scorn for the Quartermaster General dripped from the overly polite words. "Why are we spending so much on knightmare parts again? Also, I need to discuss something with Pablo when he has time."
Roy gave him an unimpressed stare but relayed his request over the intercom. Slowly, he released the button. "Anything else, Your—"
"Not here," Lelouch cut him off.
"So you still insist on maintaining this charade? We have known you for years, yet you refuse to trust us. At least inform the staff officers."
"My decision is final," Lelouch growled.
Surprisingly, Roy didn't protest. Instead, he pulled out a chair and threw a paper packet at him. "Kallen Stadtfeld. Remember her? Well, she's our new knightmare pilot."
"Absolutely not. Transfer her elsewhere. She knows too much as a noble, and it's a conflict of interest. My sister considers her a close friend."
"You might want to read that." Roy leaned back in his chair. "I would've transferred her if Gino hadn't protested. She's a security risk, especially because of your parentage. And now? We can't really afford to lose her. Art agrees. Says it's better to make sure she keeps her mouth shut."
"How much does she know?" Lelouch asked, skimming the training reports. While her simulator scores were higher than average, her actual combat scores were impressive and improving at a near impossible rate. "Is this accurate?"
"To the best of my knowledge, yes. I don't know shit about knightmares to be able to judge, but she's almost on par with Gino, and he can hold his own against the Rounds. Her learning curve is ridiculous. I have been keeping my distance for now. She doesn't know either of us are here nor with which division she is. We can't keep it a secret forever. Gino has already been pressuring me to induct her fully."
"What does Art think of her?"
"Either extremely Britannian or Japanese, and he can't tell which."
Lelouch rubbed his eyes. He had barely spared her a thought since meeting her, but he remembered her distaste for the military which had then suddenly vanished. Either the attack secured her loyalties to Britannia, or... "She could be a spy."
Roy gave him a long suffering look. "We would be more likely to catch a spy based on a coin toss than trusting your shoddy instincts."
"She could be."
"Look, it's a faint possibility, but she cleared her background check outside of being half Britannian... You already knew that, didn't you?" Roy frowned. "You could have informed me back then. Her heritage would make things very uncomfortable for my family given our business agreement."
"If she's as good as these reports claim, no one will care about her tarnished bloodline."
He glared at her latest numbers. Unfortunately, Roy was right. She was too skilled to let her slip through their fingers. They had already struck gold with Gino, but he would be leaving soon. Another pilot of his caliber would never fall into the laps again.
"What matters more is securing her loyalties," Lelouch said. "I want every communication of her monitored and cataloged. If she breaks her routine at all, I want a report on my desk."
"Do the Elevens even have the resources to plant a spy?"
"Japanese," Lelouch corrected absently. Names burned on the tip of his tongues. Names which he didn't dare to even think despite his suspicions. "The Japanese Liberation Front is made of the remnants of the Japanese army and possesses a number of bright minds. Clovis doesn't see them as much of a threat as they only undermine his power subtly by providing aid to the ghettos. While numerous other resistance groups in Japan take persistent hostile action, only the JLF possesses the discretion necessary to install a high ranking spy.
"She would be quite perfect, wouldn't she? Young enough to be malleable to their cause, noble blood to shield her from suspicion while also giving her enough mobility to meet with her handler, and a career trajectory which will place her in the heart of the Empire, potentially even among the Emperor's trusted Knights of the Round."
"Or she could be innocent," Roy said. "She is living the cozy life of a Britannian noble, hardly a reason to risk her neck for a conquered nation."
"Or she could be innocent," Lelouch conceded, "and trying to prove herself because she knows how well her comfortable life rests on a knife edge."
Roy drummed his finger on the table. "At least your sister is close to her? What of the rest of her family?"
"My sister is hardly an endorsement. You always thought I harbored dangerous ideas—"
"You still do."
Lelouch shrugged half-heartedly. "My sister, I fear, is worse." She would always support him, but he hadn't missed the undercurrent of anger whenever she spoke of their parents. Meanwhile her blog straddled the line of outright sedition. "As for Stadtfeld's family, she has two brothers, one too young to be of concern, and the other a successful doctor in a Britannian hospital, although he lives under a different name. He is too clearly foreign for the life of nobility."
"Resentment then?"
"She barely ever talks to him despite his wishes. No. She wisely keeps a distance."
"Either to protect him or to protect herself," Roy grumbled. His eyes narrowed. "You know him."
"I volunteered a fair share at the hospital he works at. He's honest, easily swayed by emotions, and the type to do the right thing. I think Frederick likes him." Lelouch leveled a stern glare. "Don't interrogate him. Frederick isn't the kind to play spy."
Roy held up his hands defensively. "Fine. Then how do we proceed? Call her here?"
Leaning forward, Lelouch rested his chin on his hands. She was wary of him, and her poor play-acting at Ashford Academy had failed to hide it behind her insincere smiles. Perhaps, she still hated him. To be fair, he had killed someone in front of her. Most civilians would... probably be unnerved by him? "Whether her heart belongs to Japan or Britannia, we need to steal it for ourselves. Give her a reason to not betray us. I won't have a rogue agent in the division who will spill our secrets to either terrorists or ambitious nobles."
"You don't mean flirt?" Roy asked warily.
Lelouch blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Because while I'm sure you could accidentally make any girl succumb to your charms, the last purposeful attempt of yours was an abject failure."
"I'm not following," Lelouch said slowly. When had he flirted with anyone on purpose? Well, maybe Kaguya, but it was more of a game than a romantic overture.
Roy let out a long suffering sigh. "Never mind. Given that she does not have the best opinion of you, to put it lightly, do you want her to meet me first? I can try to figure out what issues she cares for in particular."
Nodding, Lelouch leaned back and resisted the urge to pull out a knife and spin it in the palm of his hand. If she was loyal to Japan, breaking that bond would be much easier. He had plenty of practice with the countless Numbers who flooded in, too many looking for an opportunity for revenge. Comradeship went a long way. A Britannian loyalty though? That was a new challenge. "Gino has been in charge of her training, hasn't he?"
"Yes." Roy winced. "It has been... interesting."
Lelouch laughed, shaking his head. A shame that he missed out on that part. "Find an excuse to punish her. A spoiled noble brat like her won't want to take orders from you. Then have her do our version of Basic with the Numbers. Make sure the Drill Sergeant doesn't go easy on her... Actually, put her under Drill Sergeant Walsh. He can pass as a Britannian."
"So I will be explaining the particulars of our division?"
"Not Zero. Undoubtedly, she will discover that on her own. Most of them do." Lelouch frowned at the weighty silence. Something was amiss. "Is there anything else I should know, Roy?"
Roy crumpled and guilt wracked his features. "Malfoire, York... No, I allowed Alex a vacation, unaware of the intentions behind it. He left to train more as an agent elsewhere."
"Get me Malfoire," Lelouch snapped into the intercom. He slowly clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to calm the furious anger within. Alex couldn't be with the OSI. He would be forced to partake in the most unspeakable actions, the ones Lelouch had explicitly forbidden Malfoire from. His entire life would be at the mercy of some sadistic noble.
With Alex, there was never any judgement, only understanding. They were too similar.
"I'm so sorry," Roy whispered. "He said he wanted this."
"Of course he did," Lelouch mumbled and looked up, straight into Roy's eyes. "He joined the OSI to protect me from York. He was angry that I wasn't letting him do more, especially as I have enemies within."
"Is he aware of... you know?"
Lelouch pursed his lips. Sometimes he wondered, especially when Alex would be slightly too insightful. He certainly had enough pieces to put it together; Lelouch always told him more than he probably should. But if he did know, why had he never said anything? "I don't think so?"
A light knock on the door interrupted them.
"Come in," Lelouch barked.
York walked in with that easy confidence he always wore, yet this time there was something else. A hint of pride and condescension. A challenge in his posture as he snapped to attention and saluted. "Sir, Sergeant Malfoire reports."
"Where is Alex?" Lelouch said coldly. His hand brushed over the soothing metal hilt of his knife. Never again, would he be defenseless before this man.
"To complete his training with the OSI," York said. "Sir."
"Even though I explicitly forbid it?"
"Brigadier General Fadiman approved the request."
Lelouch shot to his feet. "He approved a vacation, not a covert operation. You forget yourself, York."
"It was a necessary action that you refused to commit because of foolish sentimentality." York raised his chin, sporting that infuriating, victorious smirk. "Do remember that the OSI is not under your direct command, General. We are merely generously cooperating."
"Your Highness," Lelouch corrected. Surprise flashed across York's face as Lelouch strode around his desk and stood directly before him. "I am not only your General, but also part of the sovereign line which you swore loyalty to. If you think you owe me anything but absolute obedience, you are sorely mistaken. You seem to have forgotten who I am."
York's eyes narrowed. "Only I know where Alex is and what his identification number is."
Leaning against the desk, Lelouch pulled out a knife and lazily spun it over his fingers. "Yes, that's true. So I will give you one chance. Beg for my forgiveness, and tell me everything, so I can order his immediate return. Maybe I will find it in myself to be merciful."
He scoffed. "You are hardly in a position to negotiate, Your Highness. Or are you trying to claim that his life doesn't matter to you at all? That you've finally come to your senses and acknowledge he is a low born brat with no name to speak of?"
"Wrong answer," Lelouch hissed. "Roy, do me a favor and arrest York for insubordination. York, you are hereby stripped of your rank, and I will leave the duration and particulars of your punishment to Art."
"A Crow? That is who you would trust? Over an actual agent, sworn like you said, to the bloodline you come from?" York asked.
"Unlike you, he hasn't betrayed me. You're mistaken if you think your presence is even necessary here," Lelouch said and stilled the knife. York's eyes stopped on the blade without a hint of fear. "The OSI threatens my safety, which my father has taken a vested interest in. Instead of risking another viper in my garden, I will have one of his own personal agents. A trade that I am more than willing to make."
"Stop acting like an impertinent child. A mere word from, or the absence of one, and Alex's life will be a living hell, never to see you again. I will resume my regular duties along with the ones expected of an agent. Remain obstinate, and you'll never find him again."
Unable to help himself, Lelouch laughed. "I don't need to find him; he will find me. I trust him enough to take care of himself, even if I would have preferred to spare him." If Alex had simply listened, then neither of them would be in this mess. "You're bluffing. You only have one card to play, and a meager one at that. Are you really going to waste it on such a minor thing, especially since you will have run your use, and I have no issues discarding you then, permanently?"
York's lip twitched.
Lelouch pushed himself off his desk, tucking the knife away. "But you want that, don't you? Either I will be your malleable puppet, or I will have hardened my heart with no regard for the sanctity of life. Rest assured, death doesn't bother me."
Location Classified, Area Six
Everywhere Kallen turned, the name Gosling was on someone's lips. She couldn't imagine what he had done to achieve such fervent loyalty. The worst offender was Gino who vibrated with anticipation. Gosling's cooking was clearly a big deal.
"So when will I meet him?" Kallen asked, finishing her lackluster meal.
"Soon, or maybe not. He's never been gone this long before. I imagine there is a fair share of work to catch up on, and we're not that urgent." Gino grinned widely, a piece of lettuce stuck in his teeth. "Once he sees you pilot, he'll definitely fill you in." His leg bounced rapidly, sending small vibrations through the table and upsetting the calm of her water. "There is so much to tell you!"
Kallen swallowed her curiosity. Gino was surprisingly able to keep a secret although that didn't stop him from dropping countless hints. She already knew something was amiss with the division and their secrecy, but nothing felt malicious. The few soldiers she met, most surprisingly Honorary Britannians, seemed relaxed and complacent. Gosling clearly wasn't a cruel lord, yet she refused to believe they would all bow their head to a conqueror because of basic human decency. There had to be something more.
"So I was thinking we should try sparring without the factsphere. It can happen you know, and most pilots would be sitting ducks. But not us!" Gino explained, leading her back to their hanger.
"Of course not," Kallen agreed lightly. "And this time, I will win."
He laughed heartily. "In your drea—" He held out her arm, blocking her way forward. "Do as I say."
She followed his gaze to the small plume of incoming dust. "The alarms haven't gone off."
"No they're... friendlies. Kallen, listen. Today is not the day to be obstinate. You're going to be as respectful as if the Emperor was standing before you."
If he was, Kallen would plunge a knife through his eye and end his blight on the world.
Gino rolled back his shoulders, his posture suddenly befitting a noble. He nodded to one of the passing mechanics and passed a message through the various secret signs which he refused to teach her. Strangely, she could've sworn some were similar to Kaguya's.
"Behave," Gino warned again as they approached the truck.
He snapped to a precise salute, and Kallen copied the alien motion. A figure approached, her motion all wrong for walking and slightly too short. Kallen squinted. Was that a wheelchair?
"Oh, shit. Bow," Gino ordered. A firm hand pressed on her back until she copied him.
With her eyes focused on the well trodden ground, she couldn't see the figure approach. When did officers bow? To a high ranking noble... No, royalty. And there was only one royal in a wheelchair. One royal who would have a reason to seek her out.
Empress Marianne.
"Ah, Gino. Wonderful. You are here already," Empress Marianne said with much too joviality for a woman with her kill count.
"Your Majesty," Gino replied. "My apologies. We weren't informed of your arrival."
"Of course not, then it wouldn't be a surprise, and you would undoubtedly be deployed on an unexpectedly urgent mission." She laughed. "Relax. If Lucy can't hold his own, that is a mark against him, not you. I know you are dying to ask me questions."
Apparently, that was enough for him to disregard formality. "So you can disable a Gloucester arm by striking the L–2 joint, yet we ran into a few modified units, and the strike merely slowed them down."
She snorted. "Because they're trying to add extra plating for defensive maneuvers. Not that the Gloucester is remotely designed for such. The extra weight causes the interior LI–34 to snap and shifts some internal wiring. The fools naturally won't notice. Next time strike center force and the frame won't be able to right itself again. Or force it to jump or switch directions rapidly and watch it fall apart on its own." She paused in her derisive speech. "I don't remember your friend."
"Oh, right. This is our new pilot. It took forever to get our transfer request filled," Gino answered. "She's great."
"You may relax, girl."
Kallen slowly eased out of her bow but kept her eyes deferentially lowered. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Kallen Stadtfeld," Empress Marianne said coldly.
Ignoring Gino's worried glance, Kallen raised her chin. Finally, she could see. Her stomach plummeted at the sight of the Knight of One standing behind Empress Marianne. Nothing good could come out of his presence. More than anyone else in the Empire, he was an extension of the Emperor's will. His word was the law.
Had they discovered her treason? No. They wouldn't be sent for someone as minor as herself.
Empress Marianne rolled closer. "You barely look like someone to make a fuss over. I have been hearing your name far too often as of late. Reuben was very insistent in allowing you to be a child, yet here you are."
"It's been wonderful having a sparring partner," Gino cut in. "Will I have the honor of another spar?"
"Why don't you two warm up first. I have some business to attend to first."
Following Gino's lead, Kallen bowed and rushed after him to their knightmares. Her hand trembled as she grasped the ladder. In what context had Empress Marianne heard her name?
"Why is she interested in you?" Gino asked softly.
She flinched at his light touch. "Apparently, she likes to challenge Lord Ashford's test pilots."
"Don't insult her, and you'll be fine. Rumors tend to exaggerate things."
"Her deeds are hardly rumors," Kallen snapped.
He snorted. "But we aren't her enemies. She doesn't hurt people for fun, not like murder-boy. The only time she executed someone here, he had it coming. We celebrated her for it."
Except she was her enemy. A spy. And half Japanese, a fact undoubtedly in her file. "I don't think she likes me very much."
"Talk to her about knightmares, and she'll come around." He slapped her on the back. "Don't worry. My awesomeness will distract her. You'll help me give a show?"
"Of course," Kallen said. She paused half way up the ladder. "Murder-boy?"
"Knight of Ten, Luciano Bradley, also known as Lucy. He liaisons with our unit whenever we need more support. Gosling usually keeps him in check, but since he wasn't here last time, murder-boy put someone in the hospital."
"What do you do that regularly requires Knights of the Rounds?"
His face twisted and he leaped into the Gloucester cockpit. "Can't say."
Kallen rolled her eyes and clambered into her own. She knew the answer already. For only one reason were the Rounds deployed within Britannia's borders: covert operations. Why the hell had Lord Ashford arranged for her to come here? And who the hell thought Gino would be a good fit? He had the world's worst poker face.
In the middle of the open field, Kallen rolled to a stop and spun her knightmare to face Gino. By now, their ritual was well practiced and at an invisible signal, they both surged forward.
Gloucesters were always so painfully limited, but Kallen pushed the machine to its limits as she spun out of the way of Gino's easily telegraphed strike. Her slash harkens ripped forward, mindful of the distant trees. He had warned her, in no uncertain term, to try and limit the damage. Gino dodged her arched strike at the vulnerable joint right below the ejection seat. A strike there would finally call the match for her.
Gino's flitted backwards, almost impossibly light for a knightmare. His slash harken sliced through the air, and she barely managed to twist her arm out of the way before the steel wires could wrap around and render it useless.
A small light went off on the console. The strike had breached the outer protective shell. The loss in efficiency should have been meaningless, yet in a fight between them, she had to eke out the slightest advantage.
Her eyes trailed across the chassis, searching for her next avenue of attack. Gino raised his arm, the rifle ready.
She didn't hesitate, slamming into him and parrying the arm up where the bullets tore through empty air... and maybe a bird or two. Her lips curled in anticipation, and she released her slash harken. Finally, she had him. Without room to dodge, he could do nothing as it wound around his outstretched arm and rendered him immobile.
"Thought you were supposed to make me look good?" he grumbled over the radio.
She laughed, the thrill of battle coursing through her. "You're saying you can't win?"
"No." He chuckled and ejected the arm. His other arm snagged the offending limb from the air before she fully registered what he had done.
For a moment, she saw her opening, a chance to regroup, a chance to win, yet it was a move that required extensive skill. Besides, she was supposed to make Gino look good, not win, especially when Empress Marianne was watching.
Afterall, Kallen needed to be beneath her notice.
A violent heave sent her stumbling forward, and she frantically released the slash harken before Gino could drag her to an untimely defeat. Unfortunately, it was already too late.
Warning signals blared around her in a dizzying array of colors as the chassis vibrated, and she tucked her head forward, cradled between her arms, as the knightmare fell backwards. With a resounding thud, which vibrated through her toes, nearly dislodged her individual vertebrates, and settled in her eyes as the world swam, she hit the ground.
Everything fell mercifully silent.
"You yield?"
"Damn you," she whispered. Her lips stretched wide. She was getting better, and if she had taken the opportunity, the fight would have been finally hers. Maybe she was finally skilled enough to leave and fight for Japan.
The smile faded. Kaguya would never allow it.
Kallen began the painstaking procedure of righting a downed knightmare. The Horus was never as unwieldy, more forgiving of imbalances.
"K-2, this is Knight Six. How is your unit? Over."
Right. Empress Marianne. Briefly, Kallen considered pretending her coms were broken and ignoring the woman. Unfortunately, she needed to prove herself, not cast doubt on herself by feigning an accident.
"Knight of Six, this is K-2. Only minor damage. Over," she responded.
Two knightmares rolled onto the field, both black with purple accents. One had two oversized broadswords on its back, while the other was lean with almost spindly legs and no clear separation between frame and cockpit.
"K-1 and K-2, this is Knight of Six. K-1 recouple the arm and move to the east side to engage with Knight of One. K-2, you are with me. Out."
Tokyo, Area Eleven
The treacherous invitation sat on the table between Leila and Kaguya. By the door, Leila's governess stood and watched them intently, searching for any sign of betrayal. Leila wasn't sure what compelled her to meet here... No, she knew. Desperation. Lady Everette's help was truly appreciated, but she saw nothing wrong with Prince Clovis's advances. She had been befuddled to hear Leila rejected them. Only Kaguya would have any sympathy for her situation.
"What should I do?" Leila asked.
Kaguya stood up and walked to the window of the Sumeragi office building. Below them, a rare Britannian protest raged. Her eyebrows drew together in the reflection, and her shoulders drooped. "Having been here for a few months, do you believe the E.U. has a chance to defeat Britannia? Not merely defend itself endlessly as they sacrifice countless allies?"
Leila cast a nervous glance at her governess.
"Indulge my curiosity if you will," Kaguya said.
"I don't know," Leila admitted. Before, the answer would have been a definitive yes, but Britannian culture was more extreme than she had believed. So many stories which she thought were parodies were, in actuality, reality. "The Homeland is too defensible, and unlike the E.U., the various citizens are for the most part armed. "
Any chance of success would need to rally the Numbers, and while the E.U., often armed them, they were a mere afterthought back home. One of her instructors had called them cowards for submitting so peacefully. Another had explained their loss was simply due to their inferiority, while in the same breath damning Britannia for it's inhumane treatment.
"Yet you still wish to return to the E.U.? To a nation doomed to be conquered within a century?"
"There's no reason—"
Kaguya scoffed. "No. There is every reason. The E.U., despite its numerous similarities which you and your countrymen would never admit, is a democracy, an antithesis to Britannia. The Emperor is much more likely to let China trundle along in their incompetence than let the E.U. continue to poison the minds of their citizens."
This was the girl Oberstein claimed to be a spy? Leila glanced back at her governess. Was it her presence that shrouded the conversation?
"I believe we can find peace should Britannia ever end its warmongering ways."
Mocking laughter bounced off the windows. "See the crowd? This is perhaps the first protest of its size. They aren't there asking for your childish political ideals, but waving the flag, while decrying your new found amour for weakness and treachery. They march under the flag of the Butcher."
Leila pursed her lips and walked to the window. True to her word, Empress Marianne's face fluttered in the breeze. "I didn't even know Britannia had protests."
"It's always good to give the citizens the feeling of freedom. They filed proper permits and everything, but I doubt Clovis expected a crowd of this size. Prince Clovis's days are numbered. He has lost control of the populace, yet I doubt a single soul would call for the end of Britannian supremacy or speak ill of the Emperor. They are marching in defense of the Empire after all, doing their civic duty to be vigilant of incompetence. The strong shall rule, and the weak will submit."
"What's happening?" Leila asked as the crowd started to twist and turn, heading in the opposite direction.
"The royal guard. Clovis is trying to project strength, yet he has already lost, and our lovely prince doesn't take kindly to that. I fear things will soon turn bloody. The army is stretched thin between trying to control this new development and the recent rise of Eleven terrorism. You should accept Clovis's invitation."
Leila stared at her blankly. "Excuse me?"
"You have another meeting with the Emperor soon, correct? That is your leverage. Nobody knows what happens behind closed doors in the throne room, but a private audience with the Emperor is a rare privilege. Tell Clovis that you hope he has forgotten the previous unpleasantness as you have. That soon you will meet with the Emperor and hope to regale him with how exquisite his parties are compared to the lackluster European ones, and of course ask if I, as well as Lady Everette, being your two good friends, can come along as well."
"Shouldn't I avoid him if he's doomed to fail?" Leila asked, mind running with possibilities.
"Knowledge is power, especially when the Emperor's generals come knocking to clean up this mess," Kaguya said. She twirled cheerfully away from the window as if the chaos beneath them was of no concern, and poured herself a new cup of tea. In it, she dumped an excessive amount of sugar and idly stirred. "As you have a fiance, it would be a solecism to not invite him to future social engagements. I would wait to break it off until after the announcement of Prince Schneizel's engagement to the Tianzi. The news will drown out any potential scandal on your end."
Leila's mind stuttered to a halt as she processed the unfathomable news. Were the alliance to go through, the E.U.'s end would be nigh. Yet how did her fiance figure into— Oh. Custom meant he could meet with her, and while her governess would be undoubtedly watching, there were more opportunities to slip a coded message than the heavily monitored video calls she had with General Smilas.
"He'll say no," Leila said, eyes flicking to her governess.
"Well, the important part is you ask him," Kaguya said with a slight nod.
Now if only Yoan was less of an asshole, but she doubted the plan would work as well if Britannia thought she remotely liked him.
Location Classified, Area Six
Kallen's heart hammered within her chest as Empress Marianne's knightmare stopped before her, like a strange inhuman beast awaiting its prey. It twisted and a slender pole jumped out of its chassis.
Empress Marianne was clearly getting the spar she had long so desired, and Kallen was stuck in an outdated Gloucester with only an assault rifle.
"Whenever you're ready, girl," Empress Marianne goaded on the private channel.
Checking her peripheral screens, she saw Gino being thoroughly trounced by Sir Waldstein. Was this normal? The Knights of the Round just arriving out of the blue to demand a spar?
None of them stood a chance. Kallen could barely stand on equal footing with Gino, and now she was facing Empress Mariannne, supposedly even better than Knight of the One despite her lower rank.
Perhaps she should view this as an opportunity. She could let the battle play out naturally, and the woman would finally ignore her. Whatever strange notions anyone had of her being excellent—clearly false as Gino had shown her—would come to an end. She merely had excellent simulator scores, but without the actual combat scores to support it, she could live a somewhat normal life.
She readied her arm and curled the metal fingers, checking their functionality and reaction time. She pulled up the rifle and took aim.
Empress Marianne waited patiently.
Kallen fired. A green shield flickered to life before her opponent, and the knightmare idly rolled forwards as if the bullets were of no concern. The shield flickered off.
Growling, Kallen swerved to the side. The shield had only covered a small section, if she could attack from the side, she could circumvent it. She fired.
Empress Marianne dodged, no shield this time. Kallen spun her knightmare, too slowly, trying to keep her target in sight.
"You'll have to do better than that, girl. Shooting at each other from across the field is a test of technology, not skill."
Kallen sighed. This was pointless. Maybe in a machine of the same caliber, she stood a chance, but in this rust bucket? Not at all. Still, she obeyed the implicit order and charged.
The beautiful, glimmering needle swept through the air with a high piercing whistle, and the assault rifle in her hands fell to the ground, in half molten pieces. What the fuck?
Half-heartedly, she raised her arm and struck the center of the chassis. Second before impact, one of the arms caught her metal hand and twisted her violently to the side. Her stomach lurched as the arms squealed and the feet briefly left the ground, leaving her to pull on all her desperate skills to righten herself before she prematurely ended the fight.
Heaving and sweat rolling down her forehead, she glared at the damned Lefay. The cheat of a knightmare stood perfectly still.
"Is that it?" Empress Marianne asked and tutted. "As always, I must wonder why Reuben is so persistent in recruiting abysmal pilots."
Kallen bristled but kept quiet. She was supposed to be a loyal Britannian citizen, and they would never insult royalty. Not that it mattered. Empress Marianne had accomplished what she wanted.
"I guess he will need to find a new pilot for the Horus."
That would hurt. She loved her machine and how gracefully it sliced through the air. Her current rust bucket was an ugly fledgling next to the Horus, a divine falcon. But if this was the price she needed to pay to once again fly under the radar, she would accept it.
"Or maybe, no one has taught you yet how to fight offensively. I would have thought otherwise given your simulator test."
Empress Marianne shot forward, and Kallen leapt to the side as metal screeched and alarms flashed at the hull breach. Her heart in her throat, she swung her knightmare to the side to block the impending strike. Talons wrapped around her arm, pulling it in, and her eyes widened as she saw a spindly leg rise to strike.
Heart in her throat, she ejected her arm and dodged to the side. Her only chance was to stay behind Empress Marianne where visibility and reach was more limite. Except staying in the slight blind spot was near infeasible as the Lefay twisted in elaborate patterns.
Kallen struck forward. Seconds before contact, the Lefay twisted on its torso and caught the one remaining arm. It let go, rolled back, and beckoned for her to attack.
She acquiesced.
A strike to the head. Blocked. A strike to the delicate shoulder pads. Dodged. A strike to the torso. Countered with an even deadlier blow which set off every alarm yet thankfully failed to incapacitate her.
Minutes into their elaborate dance, Kallen finally saw an opening. The right arm would be too slow to intercept. The left arm had the wrong angle. And Empress Marianne was so focused on her current chain of attacks that she had failed to plan defensively.
Kallen should strike now, but she couldn't. Not if she wanted to fly below the radar. The opportunity slipped through her fingers.
The Lefay suddenly broke away and rolled back a few paces. The tip of the lance sunk to the ground, and Kallen had the distinct impression she was being observed.
In a flash of black, the Lefay was on her. Kallen reeled backwards, desperate to defend herself, but she had run out of room, dense forest behind her locking her in. A blow rattled the cockpit and the emergency warning helpfully informed her that her cockpit was jammed.
Another blow cut away her legs, and Kallen cursed as the knightmare toppled into the ground. The shock sent half of the smaller cameras offline and left her with almost no visuals except the grassy terrain before him. Ears ringing, she reached for the coms to declare her surrender.
At a loud screech of metal, Kallen froze. The fight was over. The field should be silent except for Empress Marianne's demands. Except there was the screech again and her factsphere's reading went dark.
Hot hair blasted through the vent behind her, and she wiped more sweat from her forehead. Her eyes desperately locked onto the few pinpricks of lights from the corner of her cockpit.
The cockpit lurched, and Kallen clutched her harness and screamed as she felt herself go airborne in dizzying motions. A loud clang knocked her head against the back of her headrest.
Pilots quit after sparring with Empress Marianne. She was a monster, toying with her.
Kallen slammed a hand over her mouth as her throat burned. Not here. Vomit once outside. She closed her eyes as the coffin tumbled again.
With a final strike of thunder, the lance tore through the chassis, metal splitting apart like a flower blossoming around it in a shower of sparks. It pierced her controls, and Kallen flinched as burning sparks jumped to her skin. They died easily on her uniform.
She pushed herself back in her seat, only now realizing how close the lance was, separated from her by a mere foot.
The radio, somehow still working despite the carnage, crackled to life. "Stop holding back, girl, because the next time, I won't be, and my aim will be true."
Slowly, the lance withdrew, and Kallen clenched her teeth as metal screeched and groaned as her escape hatch was forcibly pried open. Mere seconds was what it took to nearly end her life once Empress Marianne decided to take the match seriously. No wonder the Butcher was so feared. She hadn't even been able to track the movements which so swiftly ended her.
Kallen rose on trembling legs and gasped violently for fresh air once she climbed out of the cockpit. She shivered violently as a cool breeze made contact with her thoroughly drenched body.
A warm hand settled on her shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. Let us get you cleaned up."
She hiccupped and accepted the soft towel from Gino. "She almost killed me."
"I saw," he whispered. "You have half an hour."
"For what?" she whispered.
He grimaced, his good cheer nowhere to be found. "Before you face her again."
"I can't. I can't. No." She shook her head and stumbled backwards. "She was holding back. I'm going to die. She wants me dead."
"She isn't like that," Gino assured. "She has saved plenty of lives, and she even has a sense of humor."
"She's the fucking Butcher!" Kallen screamed. "She despises Numbers. One more dead. What is it to her? Not like anyone is going to stop her. She'll kill me."
He led her to a fallen log and pressed a bottle of water into her hands. "Take the break and regain your composure. You will be fine. She has no reason to want you dead. She's a commoner royal; it would be down right hypocritical of her to condemn you for mixed heritage. Afterall, you haven't done anything." He paused, his eyes widening. "Did you insult her?"
"No." Kallen hiccupped again and took a ginger sip of the sweet water. "I'm half-Japanese. That's enough. She hates the Elevens more than anyone else. I thought I would get away from it here."
"Oh," Gino said softly. He rubbed her back. "I would never have guessed."
"That's the point." Kallen sneered. "Not that it matters. Once people hear you have a drop of Number blood in you, that's what you are: an inferior."
"Not here, Kallen. Drink some more. Maybe grab a fresh uniform. I have my own spar with Her Majesty." He rose to his feet and stretched his arms. "Don't worry. Gosling won't let anything happen to you."
For a moment, she wanted to believe in this mysterious commander which everyone had that much faith in. Believe that he would save her from the clutches of the devil incarnate. Believe that she would come out of the upcoming fight alive. But if Lord Ashford couldn't reign in Empress Marianne, no commander, however brilliant, would be able to stop Kallen's death blow.
Author's Note:
I have not written a fight scene in so long… Well, they had to come eventually.
I'm right now torn about shifting my update day from Fridays to Wednesdays, so potentially the next update may be a few days earlier if I decide to test Wednesdays out.
Minor celebration because I tracked how many follows books 1 had at the time I posted the epilogue, and we've finally surpassed that.
Thank you Dark and Nektry for your beta work. :)
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj