Chapter 6
The Division of Perspective
Evening was falling upon Tokyo, after a most tumultuous day. While the general public had only a cursory understanding of what had happened within the Shinjuku ghettos, rumors and what bits and pieces the news agencies were able to clean was already spreading like wildfire. The one basic point agreed upon by all was that some sort of chemical weapon had been detonated within the ghettos, releasing poison gas throughout the district. The official government statements confirmed that much, and even named the toxin to be Sarin. Searches about this particular toxin skyrocketed, and pharmacies within the Concession were inundated by people asking if they had atropine or pralidoxime in stock. Not even a declaration by the local authorities that the situation was contained was enough to quite end the hysteria. Most people at least hunkered down in their homes to try and wait out this calamity, not that they had much choice really with martial law being declared.
That of course about summed up what was officially known. What as yet remained a mystery to the general public was whom was responsible for the weapon. Suspicion naturally fell to the Japanese insurgent movements, with some particularly virulent Britannian nationalists claiming that the weapon was actually intended for use against the Concessions. Other conspiracy minded individuals launched counterclaims that it was all some sort of false flag operation meant to allow the military to impose a wider crackdown. Then there were the really out there suggestions that this was all some sort of conflict between the Prince Clovis and his brother the Cardinal Lamperouge that got out of control, with the poison gas just a cover for the casualties caused by their two sides fighting.
Whatever the source of the weapon, what became telling for many people in Tokyo, and indeed the world at large, was that the one issuing all of the orders to contain the situation, from sending in search and rescue to organizing the transport of casualties to the proper treatment centers, was not the Prince Clovis, but Cardinal Lamperouge instead. Indeed despite officially being the viceroy, the prince had remained utterly silent through much of the day. That spawned plenty of speculation all on its own, ranging from Clovis having been disgraced and taken into custody to Lelouch having outright successfully murdered his brother. The plausibility of that idea took a hit, metaphorically and literally, when an especially brash reporter actually managed to get close enough to Lelouch to ask the cardinal rather crassly whether he had killed his brother. Said reporter was now himself in the hospital with a broken jaw and facing charges of trespass for circumventing the security barriers.
As all these guesses, emotions, and just general chaotic ramblings swirled about, it was finally announced that His Eminence would make a formal statement at 9PM local time, detailing in full the events of the past day and the consequences thereof. This of course did not stop the rampant speculation, or really even slow it down. That did not happen until the clock struck on the anointed hour and the world tuned in to see what Lelouch himself had to say.
The image that appeared on the screen showed the cardinal in his full formal dress, seated in what many recognized to be the viceroy's office. That by itself was message enough, and a hint as to what was yet to come.
"Sons and daughters of Britannia, and all those whom find themselves under the Empire's charge. I am Lelouch Lamperouge, Cardinal of Eden Vital and His Majesty the Emperor Charles' personal envoy. I was dispatched to this Area to perform an assessment of how its integration was progressing, and to determine if those charged with that integration were adequate to the task. Those being so assessed included not only my brother, the Prince Clovis, but also the general administrative authorities and the military occupational forces. And if any of those persons was found wanting of their duty, I was authorized to order their removal and recall back to the homelands."
While all this was arguably already known, or at least previously suspected, to have Lelouch so candidly say it himself was almost surreal for a public all too used to the prevarications of authority figures.
"As part of my inspection, I was conducting a tour of the Shinjuku ghettos when an insurgent attack occurred in the vicinity. When my party and I arrived to investigate and assist, we discovered that the target of the insurgent attack was a clandestine chemical weapons factory set up to manufacture the nerve agent Sarin."
And there was more of that frank candor.
"Interrogation of one of the surviving engineers quickly demonstrated that the factory was not set up by any of the Japanese insurgent groups, that the factory was actually a product of Britannian conspiracy. The attack was actually an attempt by the insurgents to neutralize the threat the toxin represented to their people, an attempt in which they were not entirely successful."
Two points immediately drew the attention of the viewers. The first was Lelouch's claim that Britannians were the ones that set up the factory, which saw an explosion of vindication declarations by those that claimed as such in the pre-broadcast speculation. The second was that Lelouch referred to the insurgents not as Elevens, but as Japanese. The previous occupational authorities, civil and military alike, had been absolutely dogmatic about never calling their conquered subjects Japanese, it was always Eleven this, Eleven that. Now Lelouch, whom by all indications was the highest authority of the occupation, had tossed that rule aside without any pomp.
"While the insurgents were able to flush the majority of the stockpiled Sarin, an aerosolized weapon had been armed for deployment and could not be easily disarmed without releasing the toxin," Lelouch continued. "In order to disarm it, the insurgents took the weapon into the traffic tunnel bisecting the Shinjuku ghetto to limit the range at which it could be remotely detonated. My own party gave pursuit, and upon contact with the insurgents were able to establish a truce to allow for our mutual goal, the disarmament of the weapon, to be carried out." The cardinal's eyes visibly hardened. "The Britannian parties responsible for the Sarin weapon however were able to infiltrate one of their agents close enough to activate the weapon, exposing not only the insurgents but also myself and my party to the toxin."
That, that caused the bulk of the viewers to stop with their side commentary as they absorbed in full what Lelouch had said. The cardinal was claiming that he was at ground zero, that he himself had been poisoned by Sarin. Granted he was seemingly alive and well now, but there was no way something of this magnitude could be ignored.
"The insurgents, having been aware of the nature of the chemical weapons factory, had come prepared with enough atropine for each of their members, and only their members, due to their difficulty in acquiring the antitoxin. I and the squadron of soldiers accompanying me were not similarly prepared. Upon release of the gas however, one of the insurgents injected me with the dose they were carrying, thereby likely saving my life while we sought to escape the gas."
That was probably the first outright lie Lelouch had told the entire broadcast, but there was no way for the viewers to know that. And in a way, the lie also served a far greater purpose than the truth would have, even assuming anyone but the most deranged crackpot was prepared to believe that Lelouch was physiologically augmented to be immune to most poisons known to man.
"Even so, I was arguably one of the most fortunate of those directly exposed," Lelouch said, "as all of the others, insurgent and Britannian alike, suffered a severe enough exposure to have developed serious complications." More softly. "It is as yet unclear how many of them will make it, even having received the very best treatment that could be arranged."
It was not sorrow in Lelouch's tone there, at least not entirely. The cardinal was pissed, phenomenally so. And rightfully so, as far as many of the viewers, Britannian and Japanese both, were concerned.
"It is at this point that I can make public that my excursion to the ghettos was not entirely coincidental," Lelouch went on. "During my brief time in Area 11, my audits of governmental and military expenditures had detected anomalies that indicated the existence of some sort of clandestine activity. The full scope of which was previously unclear, and it was with the intent of discovering the nature of the operation that I arranged for my tour. What was clear from the initial evidence gathered however was that the participants of this conspiracy included many of the ranking members of the local Purist chapter, in both military and civilian office alike. And that consent for this conspiracy to proceed was granted by my brother, the Prince Clovis."
If Lelouch's little revelation about being exposed to Sarin was a bomb, then his declaration of Clovis' involvement in the toxin's production was a full-on firestorm. Incredulity swept across the watching audience as people tried to grapple with the ramifications, some trying to even comprehend how this was at all possible. Yes, the Purists in their xenophobic zeal might stoop to such atrocities, their rampant dogmatism having been displayed ofttimes enough even to the Britannian populace. But the Prince Clovis? The man that so graciously extended Honorary Britannian citizenship to the conquered Japanese populace? How could he possibly countenance mass murder like that?
"The exact details of how Clovis' consent was acquired remain under investigation, and will likely come to light once the suspects in custody have been properly interrogated," Lelouch said, a slight chill in his tone in the way he spoke of interrogation. "What can be surmised by the available evidence is that the commanding officer of the Tokyo occupational garrison, Bartley Asprius, was the prime instigator of the Sarin plot, and the one that ultimately convinced Clovis to consent to it. Under my authority, Mr. Asprius has been stripped of his command and will be repatriated back to the homelands to stand trial for high crimes. I have also petitioned His Majesty to revoke those noble patents that Mr. Asprius presently holds."
That, that was a very severe sanction Lelouch was proposing there. But far from unwarranted, as more and more people were coming to realize. But as pivotal a role as Bartley played, he was still not the highest authority involved. The audience waited with bated breath to learn the fate of that highest authority. The fate of the Prince Clovis himself.
"Though Mr. Asprius was the prime instigator, as previously noted, it was still ultimately the Prince Clovis that granted final authorization for the plot to be carried out," Lelouch said. "This was established with significant certainty that I was obliged to take my brother into custody, to similarly be returned to the homelands to stand trial. That however will not be happening."
Here it was.
"When I met with my brother to confront him with these charges, he admitted to them fully," Lelouch said, the shift in tone and address not lost upon the audience. "He admitted not only to the crimes themselves, but also to the sanctions that befit the crimes. And he informed me that he saw no reason to not accept the responsibility that was his, save for one." The cardinal took a deep breath. "He had no wish to put the rest of our family through the sort of torturous process that a trial would result in. And so he bade his farewells, and took his life by his own hand."
There it was. What many in the audience had already suspected. What some feared, what others yearned for. Clovis was dead. Had been before the broadcast even started. Which truly meant that Lelouch was the highest-ranking authority left in Area 11, and he would be the one left to clean up this colossal mess his brother had left behind. That was enough to elicit some sympathy from even the most jaded of viewers.
"In light of my brother's passing," Lelouch continued, "His Majesty has confirmed me as the acting-viceroy until such time as he selects a permanent replacement. By my authority, I have instructed the Britannian Gendarmerie, in conjunction with the Order of Eden Vital, to being distributing aid all throughout the residential districts outside of the Concessions. This aid will serve to not only ensure treatment for all those impacted by the release of the Sarin toxin, but also to begin making good on the long neglected duty the Empire owes to all its subjects, to see to their safety and welfare. Japan may not exist as a sovereign state anymore, the Japanese people may not have a nation they feel they can call their own, but that is no reason why Britannia should continue to be regarded as a poor shepherd. I know that I have no right to ask of this, but I ask nonetheless. Please, grant me the time to make good on the Empire's dereliction, and to provide what meager recompense is possible for all the suffering that has been inflicted."
Of the Japanese viewers, there remained a reflexive suspicion on the part of Lelouch's plea. But the cardinal's posture was such a stark contrast to the arrogance and disdain exhibited by the past occupational authorities. Even the basic hint of humility that Lelouch expressed felt like such a breath of fresh air, even a faint ray of hope. The Japanese people remained wary, but for perhaps the first time, many seemed willing to wait and see.
"As for my brother," Lelouch was not quite done yet. "I recognize the harm that he has done, the many aggrieved created by his actions that may never find solace. I will not ask anyone to turn a blind eye to his crimes, or to forgive them for him. That is ultimately a decision that can only be made on a personal level. All I ask is that those of us that wish to grieve for him, be given the chance to do so, much as any of you would wish for those you loved yourselves. To this end, my brother will lay in state for two days' time at the viceroy's palace before being returned to Pendragon, for any that wish to say their farewells. I will be one of them, and I ask that you not begrudge me for it."
The Cardinal Lamperouge would be the first to lay a flower upon his brother's sealed casket. He would however be far from the last.
"Grandfather, we need to talk," Milly declared as she entered the office without bothering to knock once again.
Ruben looked up, mildly taken aback by his granddaughter's sudden entry. Granted it was nothing out of the ordinary for her to just walk in without proper forewarning, but rarely did Milly announce her intentions for doing so like that. The way all traces of humor were gone from the girl's usually playful face was equally out of place, and a bit disconcerting at that. Already suspecting he knew what his granddaughter wanted to discuss, Ruben set aside the document he had been reviewing.
"Alright," he said, not even bothering to chide her like he normally would. "Why don't you have a seat then."
Milly did so, and met her grandfather's gaze with serene composure. A composure that belayed the intensity of purpose that burned within her eyes. When Ruben said nothing and waited for her to go first, that was exactly what she did.
"What is our family's involvement with Eden Vital."
Less a question, though not quite an accusation. Milly was making clear that she knew enough to see through any denials, but not enough that she herself could put together the answer. That was why she had come to her grandfather, and she expected him to fill in the missing pieces.
On Ruben's part, the old man had more than a little mixed feelings about Milly broaching the topic. His warning to her had not been done on the whim, after all, and the fact that Milly seemed so intent on ignoring it did not amuse the Ashford patriarch. Still, another part of him was, if not exactly pleased, then at least satisfied that Milly was finally showing some of the firm will that she would need when she succeeded the title, even if that time was likely, hopefully, many years ahead. Exactly how much of that will she now possessed would determine whether he would deign to answer, however.
"Tell me, Millicent," Ruben began. "Do you know the difference between sedition and treason?"
"Sedition is incitement against and subversion of the authority of the state," Milly answered. "Treason is overt opposition to the state, either by direct action such as waging war or indirect by giving aid and comfort to actors of other states hostile to your own."
"I see you have been paying attention to your civics class," Ruben said approvingly.
Milly snorted. "Considering I'm required to pass that class with full marks in order to be eligible to carry on our family's noble patents, that's sort of a given."
The civics class so referenced was a mandatory course taught at the secondary level in the Empire. It was generally taken in either the junior or senior year, depending on however best it fit into the rest of a student's coursework. Milly was however slightly exaggerating when she suggested noble heirs needed to pass the course with full marks to be eligible for inheritance, but not by much. Noble scions were required to score much higher than their commoner classmates, and it was not unheard of for an especially lazy heir to be faced with the humiliation of actually having to retake the course before being allowed to graduate. Achieving good results of course did not necessarily translate into better results in the real world, but the Empire wanted to make sure those that would go on to wield power as peers had at least some exposure to the duties that came with their privileges. And to also remind its commoner subjects that they too owed certain obligations to the throne in exchange for the rights and protection they in turn received.
This being the case, the definition of sedition and treason that Milly thus provided could not be considered entirely universal. They were after all the definitions set down in imperial law, and other countries were bound to have their own interpretations. In general though it was close enough that most anyone would recognize the definitions if they were told them.
"Then that means you will understand that by telling you what you wish to know," Ruben said gravely, "I am technically committing an act of sedition by violating the official classifications placed on this information."
Milly did not flinch, but the way the girl froze up for a moment might as well be the same.
"In the long run," the girl finally said, "I'd be the one dealing with these matters anyway, no? And considering I'll be graduating soon, I think it's high time I actually got involved with the family business instead of letting you and Mother and Father shield me like you have."
His granddaughter had a valid point, though again Ruben could not bring himself to be pleased by it. Yes, Milly was showing a willingness to assume responsibility, a trait that all good peers needed. But the sensitivity of what she wanted to delve in as her first duty was far beyond what Ruben would have wanted to serve as her introduction to the workings of state.
"Is this because of His Eminence's broadcast?" Ruben inquired, even though he already knew the answer.
Milly gave another snort, letting her grandfather know she too knew the question was rhetorical.
"What else would it be?" was her response.
"I am serious, Millicent," Ruben however was not swayed. "If you are becoming involved this only because of sentiment, then I would have even more reason to continue your exclusion on the matter."
"Sentiment!?" Milly's eyes actually flashed a bit in anger there, surprising Ruben again. "Grandfather, Lelouch and Nunnally were some of my dearest friends back in Pendragon. When they disappeared after their mother was murdered, no one, not you, not Mother, not Father, not even their own siblings could tell me where the hell they had gone! And now Lelouch shows up as a cardinal in this Eden Vital, and the first thing he has to deal with is watching his own brother take his life because of this Sarin plot! If that's the sort of mess Lelouch can expect to find himself in routinely from now on, he is clearly going to be diving headlong into lots and lots more trouble. And if he is in trouble, then like hell am I going to let him face it alone!"
Ruben opened his mouth, then closed it again. It seemed he had vastly underestimated just how much impact the disappearance of the vi Britannia children had had on his own granddaughter. Or he just never noticed. That was negligent of him, especially considering his determined efforts to socialize her with them in the past. Of course Milly would be distraught when those she was so close with just up and vanished. And his removal of her from the rest of the court environment, taking her away from the other imperial children that she had also been friends with, likely had not helped. In some ways this reckoning was a long time coming. He was just too focused on his own worries to have seen it like he should have.
"Milly," Ruben said gently. "The Cardinal Lamperouge that is now in Japan, he is not the same Prince Lelouch that you knew back in Pendragon."
"And that is where you are wrong, Grandfather," Milly responded with such confidence that Ruben was actually taken aback. "He may be grown, his character may have matured, but deep down, he is still the kind boy that dotted upon his younger siblings while hoping to measure up to his older ones. And he is still possessed of an immense love, a love that had to watch helplessly as duty and responsibility forced him to let one of his brothers die. That is the Lelouch that is your Cardinal Lamperouge, Grandfather, and that is the Lelouch that is in trouble now."
Ruben regarded his granddaughter. It was entirely possible that she was letting her own emotions cloud her judgment, the rationale part of his mind argued. But his instincts, finely honed over all those years as a great peer, screamed otherwise. Milly had seen something in Lelouch, not just from the broadcast, but also during their encounter at the ball welcoming the cardinal. A ball where, despite Ruben's warnings, Milly had not only reintroduced herself but even took his hand as his first dance partner of the night. The number of tongues sent waggling after that dalliance had given Ruben more headaches than he cared for, even more so now since it seemed to have set the stage for Milly's current posture. Things could arguably be worse, but that was not exactly much consolation. But his granddaughter clearly would not be swerved from her chosen path, and in the end she would be the one to bear such burdens anyway. At least this way Ruben himself was still around to lend what aid he could, instead of having passed on and leaving Milly to fend entirely for herself.
"Know this, Millicent," he said. "If anything that I say passes beyond you to others, sedition may well be the least of the charges our family could face."
Milly gave a firm nod. "I understand, Grandfather."
Ruben returned a grave one of his own, then settled back into his chair.
"You are familiar with our family's involvement in the Empire's knightmare development program."
Again Milly nodded. "We developed the Ganymede as the basic prototype, and the Glasgow as a training model to give the army something to build up experience with. The Sutherland is the first, proper mass production model." The girl frowned slightly. "And we supposedly lost the knightmare contract because we didn't have a new design ready when the Empire began soliciting options for the Sutherland's successor."
"An apt enough summary, at least as far as the public version goes," Ruben said. "Tell me, do you recall whom was the Ganymede's test pilot?"
"The Knight of Six," Milly said slowly, "Marianne Lamperouge. Lelouch and Nunnally's mother."
"And prior to that a prioress within the Order of Eden Vital," Ruben said, "in direct service to the Order's grandmaster."
Milly's eyes narrowed. "So Lelouch and Nunnally's connections to Eden Vital were already that extensive?"
"And ours as well," Ruben nodded. "You probably know from insisting on hauling the Ganymede to show off during the yearly school festival that it is powered via a battery or a power tether. This significantly reduced its field worthiness, and the greatest challenge the Foundation had was trying to find an alternative means to power it. It was what Nina's grandfather worked on extensively before he passed away. We weren't making much headway on our own however, and just as it seemed like we would never find a solution, Eden Vital approached us with something they called the Yggdrasil Drive. I won't put you to sleep with the technical details, but it was the exact breakthrough we needed, and we were able to complete development of the Glasgow shortly thereafter."
"I see," Milly said thoughtfully.
"The original plan for the Glasgow was to build only a single company of the machines, so about sixteen, give or take a few spares," Ruben continued. "But then, shortly after Marianne's death, I was summoned to a meeting with the emperor, a cardinal of the Order, and a young woman with long green hair that was introduced as the grandmaster of Eden Vital. A woman that I honestly had thought was just some lady in waiting to the Empress Marianne."
A woman with long green hair. Milly searched her memory, and could faintly recall catching glimpses of such a person.
"She had striking yellow eyes too, right?"
Ruben seemed surprised at his granddaughter's recollection and nodded. "Yes, she did." The old man sighed. "And it was at that meeting that I was informed that Britannia intended to invade Japan, and required the Foundation to either accelerate the production of the Sutherlands, or build enough Glasgows to equip two divisions with knightmares."
While Milly frowned at the first bit, she stared somewhat blankly at the latter.
"Knightmare divisions in their present day organization are generally composed of three battalions, each made up of four companies," Ruben provided the additional supplementary information.
"So sixteen times four times three, which makes it out to be a hundred and ninety-two knightmares," Milly worked out the summation quickly in her head. "Three hundred and eighty-four for two divisions.
"Correct," Ruben said approvingly, then continued. "The Sutherland was nowhere near ready for entering mass production, we were still working out the basic manufacturing process. The production lines for the Glasgow still existed, but they were never intended to be used at such scale. The Foundation was ultimately forced to subcontract out production of quite a few components, some even to our nominal competitors."
"And one of those competitors used the knowhow they gained from that work to come up with the Gloucester and upstage us," Milly followed the line of thought. "Officially, that is."
"Well put," Ruben said. "And as you suspect, the real reason for why we did not have a design to contest the contract with is entirely different. It is because Eden Vital commissioned us to develop a knightmare frame solely for their use. A true, next-generation design, not a mere incremental improvement like the Gloucester is to the Sutherland."
Milly frowned thoughtfully. "Wait, Eden Vital wanted a knightmare of their own? Why would they need that? For that matter, why would they even be allowed to have one?"
"And that is where we come to the issue of sedition," Ruben said with a wry smirk, one that Milly was usually the one delivering, not receiving.
The girl gave a snort. "I take your point, Grandfather. So, what is this potentially seditious information that I'm officially not supposed to have?"
Ruben clasped his hands together and regarded his granddaughter. "What do you know of the various suborders within Eden Vital?"
Again Milly searched her memory a bit. "They're various specializations that carry out Eden Vital's mission. The Order Hospitaller runs the various charity clinics that provide medical services to the needy, the Order Dialogus the formal schools and vocational training centers, and the Order Famulous provides attendants to the well to do to help them manage their estates and interests. Though they're supposedly not really strict delineations, members of Eden Vital can shift between the different Orders as need arises."
Ruben nodded. "Those are some of the publicly known Orders, yes. There is however one that Eden Vital generally keeps under wraps, that of the Order Militant. For all intents and purposes that Order constitutes Eden Vital's own standing army. A small army, but an army nonetheless."
The frown on Milly's face deepened. "Aren't they supposed to be just a religious denomination?"
"Officially, yes. But recall that many other religious orders started out as knightly orders protecting those on holy pilgrimages. Most have shed their martial legacies and focus mainly on charity and other such works, which Eden Vital arguably also performs quite extensively. But beneath that silken glove, there is an iron fist waiting to be used."
"But, why?" Milly wondered.
"That I do not know," Ruben said. "What I do know is that the cardinal that attended that meeting, one Octavian Zevon, was considered to be the leader of the Order Militant. And Octavian retired about two months back, with his announced replacement being one Lelouch Lamperouge."
Milly looked at her grandfather flatly. "You're saying that Lelouch is involved with, no, in charge of Eden Vital's secret little army."
"And now you know why I wanted you as far away from His Eminence as possible," Ruben said with a slightly sad smile. "But, you insisted."
"Yes, yes I did," Milly said slowly.
Ruben cocked his head aside. "Do you regret it?"
The girl shook her head, with clear deliberation.
"No. If what you suspect is true, then Lelouch really is in the deep end of something. And he could probably use all the help he can get."
"I suppose that's one way of looking at it," Ruben said. "And do you think you are in any position to lend him that aid?"
"I'm not sure," Milly said, the first time she sounded this uncertain during the entire exchange. "I know that the problem exists, but I don't yet know what part I could play. There's still so much that I don't know."
"I see," Ruben said, more than a little impressed at this self-awareness on the part of his granddaughter. "Well, if that is the case, are you prepared to delve deeper to get that information?"
Milly looked up. "What do you mean, Grandfather?"
"The Foundation's work with Eden Vital on their knightmares is still ongoing," Ruben said. "Indeed His Eminence and I were scheduled to have a meeting to discuss its progress before this entire Shinjuku affair occurred. I expect that in the short term the reshuffling of the Area's administration is going to cause a great deal of work for all of the peers left. Coordinating with Eden vital on this knightmare project is however not exactly something I can just delegate out to anyone. That person would have to be someone that I could trust, that could keep secrets, and that could learn quickly all of the necessary background to be able to meaningfully discuss the matter." The marquess regarded his granddaughter with that same mischievous smirk. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone that matches those criteria, would you, Millicent?"
The cardinal was not alone. Standing at the ready were two of the sisters that formed part of his personal entourage. An entourage that Jeremiah no longer doubted were perfectly capable of ensuring Lelouch's safety. Not after having witnessed their lethal efficiency when confronting both Prince Clovis' royal guard and the Purist dominated units that had been supplementing them. The former no longer existed as an institution with their liege's death, even though quite a few of them survived to be mustered out or if they so choose reassigned back to the regular forces, as per tradition. The latter had however been brutally decimated, with losses of upwards of three quarters of their previous strength. It would likely be more efficient to just disband the old units and reconstitute them from new recruits. Somehow Jeremiah could not quite convince himself that that was not the cardinal's aim, at least peripherally.
Lelouch himself was standing gazing out a window, a partially filled wineglass in hand. The open bottle sitting on the table next to him had clearly seen ample draining, and it likely would not be long before it was entirely empty. Jeremiah and Villetta stood silently at attention while they waited for Lelouch to deign to notice them. It was a very, very long time spent waiting. Lelouch finally moved, raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip.
"A 1999 Cabernet," the cardinal said, his back still to the two officers, "from the Imperial Aries Villa's cellar. My mother apparently intended to share it with me when I reached my eighteenth birthday. She likewise prepared a bottle of 2003 Cabernet for my sister."
Jeremiah winced. The margrave felt an almost physical pain tighten across his chest.
"My father granted me the villa for my personal use after my appointment as cardinal," Lelouch continued. "When he informed me of my mission to Area 11, I took this bottle with me, to share with my brother. In celebration, if it was determined that he was capable of salvaging the situation in the viceroyalty, with the appropriate help. Or in consolation if the decision to recall him was affirmed."
The cardinal took another sip, this time draining the glass. Once empty, he set it down upon the table. Still he refrained from facing his two guests.
"Now, I find that I no longer have a brother to share it with."
It took considerable effort for Jeremiah to keep his breathing steady. Indeed it took considerable effort for him to breathe at all. The constriction that was merely painful before was turning into outright agony. Even if the words came to him, the margrave doubted he could have mustered the air to speak them. When Lelouch finally turned about and their eyes met, Jeremiah knew with certitude that such an action was beyond him. Those violet eyes shone, with an intensity that the margrave found eclipsed that of his memories of the Empress Marianne. The breeding behind Lelouch's lineage was clear as day, from the firm jaw to the level brow. He was not just the son of the Empress Marianne, he was the son of the Emperor Charles.
"I find it curious," Lelouch said, stepping towards the two. "That a man my mother found worthy of taking into her service, would stoop to the sort of craven demagoguery as that espoused by the Purists."
He came to a stop before Jeremiah, and despite their difference in height, the margrave felt as if it were him that needed to raise his head to meet Lelouch's gaze.
"Surely you knew, as one of her sworn armsmen, that my mother was a compassionate woman. That she believed in the innate potential of all people, whatever their lineage. And that, as a commoner herself, she cared little for pretensions of superiority based on something as insignificant as bloodline. So tell me, Margrave." The title might as well have been a curse the way it left Lelouch's lips. "How exactly did one such as you possibly win my mother's confidence? How could she have so misjudged your character and worth?"
The emotions roiling within Jeremiah, they threatened to overwhelm him. All of his doubts and fears, it was as if Lelouch was renting asunder the only shield that permitted Jeremiah to keep them at bay. To hear the son of Marianne proclaim him unworthy of the empress' confidence, to be declared unworthy of his own. It was all Jeremiah could to do not break down here and now.
"Your Eminence," the margrave wheezed. "Everything I have done, has been to redeem my failure as Her Majesty's sworn armsman. To ensure that no others would fall due to weakness in our ranks!"
The way the cardinal regarded him, Lelouch was plainly unimpressed.
"And how has that approach worked thus far, Margrave?" the cardinal said in a chillingly even tone. "How many more have, not fallen, due to the supposed purity of our ranks?"
It would have been easier if Lelouch had simply yelled at him. It would even be easier if the cardinal physically struck him. As it was, the quiet tenor of this reprimand clawed at Jeremiah's very soul. Unable to stand it any longer, the margrave fell to his knee. Unbeknownst to him, Villetta did the same, even if the captain had nowhere as much reason to prostrate herself like this.
"I beg of you, Your Eminence," Jeremiah said. "Ask of me what you will, but please, give me a chance to redeem my many failures. My many sins!"
Lelouch pinched the bridge of his nose, looking more annoyed than anything else.
"Stand up, both of you."
That was the first indication Jeremiah had of Villetta mirroring his actions, but the fact barely registered in the margrave's muddled awareness as he gingerly rose back up onto his feet.
"Something so easily and readily offered, Margrave," Lelouch said, "does not constitute much in the way of penance."
The pained look on Jeremiah's expression deepened, but Lelouch turned away from him and instead walked over to Villetta.
"Captain Nu," the cardinal addressed the woman. "My investigations thus far indicate you had no involvement with the Sarin plot, and that despite your misjudgment in joining with the Purists you generally held yourself to the highest standards of discipline. As such, I have deemed you salvageable, and worth the effort of doing so. I am breveting you to the rank of major and placing you in command of the knightmare regiment responsible for Tokyo's overall defense."
Villetta's eyes widened and they momentarily darted over at Jeremiah before quickly returning to Lelouch. That command was supposed to be the margrave's, but the cardinal clearly did not retain enough confidence in the man to keep him in that post. As much as the newly promoted major might feel relieved about the lightness of her own judgment, she clearly felt conflicted about her advancement coming at the expense of a man she respected so highly.
"You are dismissed, Major," Lelouch said.
Villetta raised her hand in salute, palm out. "Understood, Your Eminence." She looked over at Jeremiah again, then made a determined grimace. "Your Eminence, if I may?"
Lelouch, who had already started turning away, glanced back. After a moment he dipped his head.
"I owe much of what I am to Colonel Gottwald's willingness to mentor one he considered a promising junior officer," Villetta said, calmly but firmly. "I beg of you to keep that in consideration."
Jeremiah flashed a surprised look at Villetta, but it softened into one of simple gratitude. Lelouch on the hand raised an eyebrow, before tilting his head in dismissal. With a click of her heels, Villetta spun about and took her leave. The door closed, leaving Jeremiah alone with Lelouch and his entourage.
The cardinal stepped back over to the table, uncorking the wine bottle and refilling his glass. He was clearly not done yet with Jeremiah, the margrave not having been dismissed. At the same time, Lelouch was also clearly not in any rush to soothe Jeremiah's nerves. That spoke volumes of the latter's lack of favor with the former.
"You seem able to inspire some loyalty," the cardinal said after another sip, "at least amongst those whose loyalties are worth having. That will likely be crucial if you are to carry out your task."
Jeremiah straightened. A task. The cardinal had a task for him. He was not to be discarded without a chance at redemption. No doubt whatever he would be asked of would be difficult, but the margrave was no stranger to adversity. He would overcome, if it meant regaining the confidence of the Empress Marianne's son. For his own sense of redemption, if for nothing else.
"I am transferring you back to the infantry," Lelouch said. "I intend to stand up a new regiment, and I need an experienced officer to lead it."
The announced change in his posting was a blow, but it was not the shock it would have been had Lelouch not moments ago assigned Villetta the margrave's old command. Still, if the only price he had to pay was to swallow his pride a bit and play at infantry instead of serving as a knight, he could live with it.
"There are at present six thousand Honorary Britannians bearing arms for the Empire," Lelouch said, refilling his glass again after draining it with remarkable swiftness. "Not all of them are fit to actually do so, some genuinely are not to be trusted to uphold their oaths. But many are, and their numbers should easily be sufficient to man the new regiment."
A heavy, sinking feeling started to weigh upon Jeremiah's stomach. The cardinal was not just talking about transferring him to an infantry posting, he intended to have Jeremiah command a unit composed predominantly of Elevens. Was this supposed to be some sort of twisted irony? To demand that Jeremiah work with the very soldiers he had denigrated and treated as mere cannon fodder? How could the cardinal expect him to ever gain their obedience?
"That is the point, Margrave," Lelouch said, turning about with glass in hand. "That is the question that we will see answered. Whether you possess the necessary qualities to lead. After all, a rank may bestow upon you a certain amount of obedience from your subordinates, but it is you that must inspire within them loyalty and conviction. Whether that is beyond you or not, we will be answered, one way or another."
Jeremiah grimaced. He had asked to be given a chance, and the cardinal had obliged. But oh what a chance it was, the challenges of such magnitude that it might as well be Sisyphean. Apparently seeing through Jeremiah's despondency, Lelouch set the glass down so hard it shattered, causing the margrave to jerk aback.
"Understand me, Margrave," Lelouch's voice finally rose. "I do not set tasks that cannot be accomplished. You were the one that declared your loyalty unwavering and your aptitude supreme. You were the one that wished for an opportunity to prove your worth." The cardinal continued even as one of his attendants took out a cloth and wiped down the splashed wine and examined his hand to check for any cuts from the shards. "If all that was just bluster and your confidence caves the moment an inconvenience arises, if you truly think it beyond yourself to turn those men and women into the soldiers Britannia needs and deserves, then tell me now so that I don't waste any more time or lives continuing to rely on your rectitude!"
Along with the broken glass, Jeremiah felt something with him crumble as well. Not his confidence or his faith, but the entirety of his doubt as understanding finally dawned upon him. The cardinal had not once showed any doubt in the margrave. Reserve and caution, as was only right seeing all the years since their last meeting. Even so, he had already placed his faith in Jeremiah. First when nominating the colonel to command the rapid response force that was supposed to back the cardinal up should an emergency arise, and then in invoking secundus and ordering Jeremiah to perform a task the colonel would have considered unthinkable just mere days before. In both instances the cardinal took a gamble that he could place his faith in Jeremiah, and in both instances that faith was proven correct. Now the cardinal offered to do so again. So why should this time be too much for him?
"I will do my utmost to see your confidence warranted, Your Eminence," Jeremiah said, his back straightening in reflection of his restored dignity. "If these men and women were not already soldiers, they will be by the time the Empire has need to call upon their services, this I swear."
Lelouch took a deep breath and gave a satisfied nod. "Better, Colonel."
And addressed Jeremiah by his military rank for the first time this night. That there was also a signal.
"Remember, Colonel," Lelouch said as another of his attendants emerged with a new wineglass. Two glasses, actually. The cardinal proceeded to empty the bottle into them. "The soldiers that you will be commanding are not Japanese, or Elevens, or Honorary Britannians. What they desire is for someone to look past all the labels, to see them for the person that they are, not the expectation that those labels impose. Much as you yourself desired for someone to define you not by the title you inherited, but by the worthiness of your own person."
The raven-haired girl presented one of the glasses to Jeremiah, and the margrave took it.
"As you were so defined by my mother," Lelouch said, raising his wineglass, "so may you define those that look to you now."
Jeremiah lifted his in turn.
"You felt great pride at being so recognized by my mother. Make these soldiers just as proud to be recognized by you."
"I will, Your Eminence."
The two downed their glasses, and Jeremiah could not remember ever drinking a vintage so fine.
End of Chapter 6
I swear, I was not intentionally trying to generate more reviews with the mistaken chapter upload last time around. I just have so many lingering documents in the site document manager that it's actually really easy to mis-click.
I think I might be setting some sort of record for myself by how fast I've pumped out the chapters. One more chapter. These scenes are ending up so much longer than I was expecting, probably because there is so much information I need to get out. This chapter actually pushed quite a bit past my usual target.
The scene with Jeremiah I had already mostly finished even before I wrapped up the previous chapter. It felt weighty enough when it emerged in my head that I wanted it out quickly so I wouldn't end up forgetting any of the highlights.
Clovis is very much dead. There is not any attempt at subterfuge or anything on my part regarding his fate. His body is already on its way back to Britannia. Expect more than one awkward conversation between Lelouch and his other siblings as the story progresses.
I generally don't set out to demonize a character. I may mock or trash talk the role that a character was given, or the way they were portrayed, but the character him or herself I don't see much point in denigrating. There are certainly characters whose basic personalities I don't like, but even those I'm generally capable of treating with an even enough hand for them to fulfill whatever role I need of them in the story before I move on. Hence the way I've handled Clovis. I'm certainly not trying to make him out to be a saint, but there's also no point in just treating him like a cheap hate sink. That would just make the story more boring, in my opinion.
My god, I think it might have been a mistake to dangle the prospect of ships in front of all of you. It's like all of you are throwing every possible option to see what might stick, or actively promoting ships you want to see if you can get them to stick. I will say that it is interesting that even with some convergence amongst the readers, there are still a few outliers on what people predict may or may not be viable as ships.
Just so we're clear, Lelouch is never going to get romantically involved with anyone else in the imperial family. That constitutes out and out incest, which would be illegal in a western society like that of Britannia. The fact that it's even flirted with in the Code Geass canon is because of a few idiosyncrasies in Japanese history, especially during the Heian era, where marriage between half-siblings could and did happen because of the specific nature of their court politics, and the fact that marriage is permitted for cousins of much closer relations even in modern day Japan than in western societies. From a world building perspective though, it causes a severe tonal mismatch that I'd rather not deal with. And since I am not personally invested in any specific ships, I'm not going to bend narrative coherence for any of their sakes. That also means a Suzaku and Kallen pairing was never in the cards. Those two are very diametrically opposed in terms of basic personality and priorities and are fundamentally incapable of providing what the other needs or wants. Suzaku desperately craves something that he can protect. Kallen does not want to be protected, emphatically so. So on, and so forth.
Hints? Hmm, okay.
"The one that awakened my heart, the one that got away, and the one that redeemed me."
Might be subject to change in the future depending on how the story goes. And two hundred thousand words in? You guys do realize that Calculus got to somewhere around eight hundred thousand words before Euphemia was finally paired with someone?
With respect to geass, two points. First, Lelouch's geass in canon was far more broken and overpowered than anything I've ever given him in my stories. And I really do mean that. The thing had functionally no weaknesses, the only limitations present were fairly trivially worked around as Lelouch demonstrated on multiple occasions, and the only reasons he didn't just waltz up and take over Britannia in the first arc of R1 like he did in the last bit of R2 was because of his ideological naivety and the fact that the writers did not want to push the content to too high a rating. I've gamed a bunch of different scenarios of a Lelouch having his canon power in different situations, as thought exercises to see if any of those variants were stories worth trying to tell. All of them pretty much ended the same way, Lelouch was functionally unstoppable if he was willing to be just a bit more ruthless. Because in practice, there is no such thing as overuse of his power, unlike with say Mao's, and overcoming the one use only limitation was just a matter of being willing to turn everyone into his permanent slaves, and the eye contact requirement is just a matter of patience and planning. His power was just that flat-out broken, and you have to actively ignore this point for any of Code Geass' plot to make even what little sense it had.
The second point is that the canon series never introduced an actual system to define what code and geass were. They waffled around trying to make it feel all mysterious, which works for some people, but falls flat for me. It also didn't help that the geasses that cropped up in the majority of the spin-offs just got more and more nonsensical or were poor man's rip-offs of Lelouch's power. Nightmare of Nunnally actually had what I consider to be the most interesting, and even systemized, take on code and geass. Beyond that manga however, there was very little consistency, and in a lot of respects very little imagination in the additional geasses introduced outside of the original anime. As such, whenever I deal with code or geass, I don't bother retaining much from the original canon, since they're rarely usable in the more realistic context that I write in anyway, because they're too fundamentally broken as powers to not just allow their wielders to rip through any problem they encounter. The writers of the original anime and the various spin-offs had to go through a lot of gyrations and ended up making a good majority of the geass wielders functionally insane in order to make them act stupid enough to be stoppable. That kind of stopped being interesting after Mao, especially considering none of the other geass wielding antagonists ever got the same amount of depth developed before they were eventually offed.
Ultimately, I will retain some of the thematic aspects, but the system as a whole will be something I build up myself. I did this in Calculus, where I put together basically an entire model of what code and geass were in that story universe. I'll be doing the same here, with the necessary tweaks to match the needs of this narrative.
As a writer, I don't rely on some fuzzy, unknowable mystery in order to try to incite a sense of wonder in my readers. Seeing as that approach doesn't work on me, I see no reason why I should subject others to it. My approach generally is to build a coherent and consistent system, and within the constraints of the rules, create something that applies those rules in ways that readers may or may not have conceived of themselves. In either case, the mere act of making my readers jump through the mental hoops to piece all the bits together is the point. You all get a chance to exercise your imaginations, you get the satisfaction of coming to understand a potentially highly complex system in a zero-impact environment since it's all made up, and if you were introduced to something genuinely new to your previous conceptions, you get what I consider to be a more tangible sense of wonder.
Arguably the biggest challenge to doing this is the fact that I have to keep doing it over and over again, since every new story or whatever requires its own new twist different from the others, so I need to keep thinking up new ideas all the time. Not needing to create new, coherent material is probably the one advantage, if you want to call it an advantage, in the keep everything vague and unexplained approach. But if you do that, I'm not sure how your work would be at all distinguishable from all the other works that go down that route.
The name of Eden Vital is just something I took from the Nightmare of Nunnally series. It wasn't really clearly or coherently explained in that series either, so it's not like that work would have helped much as a reference. What new meaning I might have concocted for my version, time will tell. Sooner or later, time will tell.