Chapter 15

The Question of Earnestness

Of the various imperial scions, perhaps due to her martial duties, Cornelia had sworn to her far more knights than any of her siblings. Not all of them were knights of honor of course, but each and every one of them did possess a formal knighthood granted by the Emperor himself. Amongst the dozen or so knights directly in Cornelia's service, about a third were women. Known informally as her Valkyries, each one was a skilled warrior in their own right and as fanatically dedicated to their liege as their male counterparts. That did not mean that loyalty could not be tested from time to time, as the stiff manner in which Marika Soresi stood before Cornelia attested. And as her name indicated, she was indeed the younger sister of the late and disgraced knight Kewell Soresi. A disgraced knight that died at the hands of Cornelia's own brother, the Cardinal Lamperouge.

"Have a seat, Marika," Cornelia invited.

"I'm fine standing, ma'am," the knight responded.

Cornelia frowned, but let the woman have it her way.

"When I announced my intention to come to Area 11 to determine my brother's intentions, you gave an unbidden assurance to me, Marika, that you would not let whatever outcome resulted from your brother's trial to interfere with your duties as one of my knights," the princess said. "I recognize however, that that is not the same as you being unaffected by what ultimately happened to him. So, I would like your candor here, as to whether you truly want to be held to your assurance."

Marika's expression tightened in a mixture of frustration and even anger. While the former was at least partially directed towards Cornelia, the latter seemed to be aimed elsewhere. For now.

"Your Highness, my brother is dead," Marika stated flatly. "Not only dead, but his name disparaged. While I cannot do anything about the former, as his sister, as someone that loved him dearly, I cannot help but want to do something about the latter."

Cornelia nodded in sympathetic understanding, not that that was the same thing as agreement.

"Are you suggesting you would seek to clear his name?" the princess asked.

The knight's grimace deepened. "By all accounts any such attempt would be futile, Your Highness, seeing the, thoroughness, by which my brother was convicted."

Cornelia tilted her head slightly. "Setting aside the verdict, are you dissatisfied with the extent and weight of the evidence?"

In other words, did Marika not believe in their validity?

The young woman took a deep breath. "Such evidence may explain in detail what my brother did, Your Highness, but they cannot begin to explain why. Without knowing that, there is no peace or satisfaction to be found in the volume of evidence."

Cornelia nodded again. "I too would very much like to know the why behind my own brother's actions."

A reminder, that Marika was not the only one to lose a sibling as a consequence of what was now widely known as the Shinjuku Incident, or to see their sibling's reputation suffer such a dramatic fall from grace. While there was some sympathy for Clovis being misled and manipulated by Asprius, general public opinion was that it was still the prince's own bad judgment and lack of will that allowed the situation to degenerate as badly as they did. Indeed it was more out of sympathy for the emotional pain that Lelouch must have endured having to come in and clean up his brother's mess that many people were more restrained in their criticism of the late prince. And because he was still Cornelia's brother when all was said and done that allowed Lelouch to offer at least a modicum of comfort despite having played such a pivotal role in the cause of her own grief. The same could not be said of Marika, however. To her, the Prince Clovis' misjudgment was what helped place her brother in such a precarious position, while the Cardinal Lamperouge was the hand that ultimately sealed Kewell's fate. If there was some comfort to be had, it would have to come from someone else.

Looking over at Gilbert, Cornelia's head dipped ever so slightly. The knight gave a curt bow and proceeded to open the door, letting in the other guest for this evening. When Marika looked over at the newcomer, the knight could not help but flinch slightly.

Colonel Jeremiah Gottwald had, prior to Lelouch's arrival, been the second ranking Purist in Japan. He was also the only high ranking Purist, or rather former Purist, to have survived Lelouch's purge of the military's ranks of his former compatriots, a purge that claimed Marika's brother. That Jeremiah emerged alive and mostly unscathed was known to be because he had thrown in his lot with the cardinal even before the truth of the Sarin gas plot was revealed. Considering the fallout, most would actually judge Jeremiah's actions to be astute indeed. That was not the opinion Marika held of the man however, an opinion colored significantly by Jeremiah's relationship with her deceased brother.

Before the events of that day, the two men were arguably fast friends that would have trusted their life to the other. Kewell had looked up to Jeremiah as a model officer and noble, often extolling of the man's virtues in letters he wrote to his family, Marika included. And Jeremiah himself considered Kewell to be a promising junior officer that would one day go on to shoulder the weight of the armed forces. The closeness of their bond had however shattered when the true test occurred, with Kewell siding with Bartley and Clovis while Jeremiah joined hands with Lelouch. That Jeremiah now stood here where her brother did not, Marika felt another well of apprehension rise within her.

"Dame Marika," Jeremiah greeted respectfully. "My deepest, most earnest condolences."

Marika reared back, anger spiking at hearing those words. Jeremiah was the last person she would have wanted to be saying all that to her.

"And my sincerest apologies for how utterly I failed your brother."

The anger was still there, but now also a degree of puzzlement colored it. Marika was certainly still infuriated by Jeremiah's mere presence, but her curiosity was piqued enough that she did not last out at him, not yet at least.

"And how exactly did you fail him, Sir Jeremiah?" Marika responded, her voice almost a growl despite the courtesy.

"In a multitude of ways," Jeremiah said. "I failed to offer proper counsel as to our duties as officers of the Empire. I failed to guard him against malign influences that corrupted his judgment. I failed to make him aware of all the reasons he already had to be proud, instead inflaming his desire and need to find new outlets by which to rationalize his worth. In all these manners, I failed to keep him from a path that ultimately led to his death, thereby causing all that cared for him immense pain. For that alone, I can never be sorry enough."

Of all the things that Jeremiah could have said, such an apology was not anything that Marika could have imagined. She would have thought that the margrave would have blamed Kewell for his own poor judgment, for trying to disclaim any and all responsibility he might hold for her brother's death. Instead, Jeremiah was looking her straight in the face and admitting every mistake of his own that played a part in her brother's fate. Marika felt her anger waver, even while her frustration actually rose. Here was a man she could see exactly why her brother thought so highly of. A noble and officer that took responsibility instead of trying to dodge it. Such qualities should have meant Jeremiah was someone that could be trusted to at least try to do the right thing. And maybe the margrave had. But it still was not enough. Marika felt tears start to well up in her eyes.

"Why couldn't you have kept him safe?" she half demanded, half cried.

"Because I was too blinded by my own vanity," Jeremiah answered unflinchingly. "And because of my pride, I allowed a good friend to stray and meet an end he did not deserve."

Somehow, and Marika could not begin to understand why, those words brought a measure of unexpected comfort. Perhaps it was because here was someone that shared in her belief in her brother. Someone that clearly mourned his passing, if not as much as her, then at least a great deal as well. Even if Jeremiah held some responsibility for Kewell's death, even if he was clearly aligned with the man at whose hands her brother died, Marika found that the sympathy, and empathy, that the margrave was conveying, was much needed by her. She took a deep breath as she tried to compose herself.

"I thank you for your consideration, Sir Jeremiah," Marika said. "Truly."

Jeremiah nodded. "His last thoughts were of concern for you, Dame Marika. He asked me to let you know that he was, alright."

Hearing that brought another pang of grief to Marika. It also brought a warm reminder of her brother's love for her. She closed her eyes and let herself dwell within it for just a moment longer.

"Kanpai!"

The gathered men bumped their glasses before taking a chug of the beer. Or rather another chug, for this was far from the first toast of the afternoon. All had the look of someone who had been around the corner a few times, someone used to the rough and tumble existence that had been life in the ghettos after the Britannian invasion. Things were getting better, however, with the streets becoming safer and cleaner. One could easily be forgiven for assuming that was the cause for the celebrations these men were holding, but a closer examination revealed a few incongruities.

"Heh, so much for law and order," one of the men sneered. "Just as we thought, the Brits were all talk."

"You got that right, Bro," another agreed. "Those priests didn't even try to stop us when we raided the place. Probably knew all they'd get for their trouble was broken bones, or maybe even a few bullet holes."

Strewn about the room were boxes and crates with the bird-like sigil of Eden Vital, marking them as rightfully belonging to the order. Combined with the remarks, it was pretty clear that these men were little better than brigands, having stolen the crates from an Eden Vital facility. Such an act, while not exactly unheard of before the arrival of the Cardinal Lamperouge, was still extraordinarily rare due to the humanitarian aid the Order extended to the general Japanese populace. For this reason alone few resistance groups were prepared to risk cutting off one of the few lifelines their people had. Even now there were hardly any resistance groups that were so craven as to repay Eden Vital's previous generosity in such a manner, even if one of the Order's cardinal was now serving as viceroy, a position that technically embodied the very authority that oppressed their people. That embodiment was however also changing, with Lelouch discharging his duties as viceroy in a such a professional and competent manner that the occupational authority was turning into a genuine force for order and stability. And with that newfound stability people could even be forgiven for letting down their guard a bit. That this group was opportunistic enough to try to take advantage of this relative stability marked them as decidedly less disciplined or principled than many of their fellows. And quite possibly more stupid.

A distinct pop sounded, causing the men to exchange looks.

"What was that?" one wondered.

"Not sure, maybe Ryu dropped something downstairs."

"Might as well go check," a third said with a sigh. "Save me some of the beer."

The man left the room and climbed down the stairs of the dilapidated building. A good chunk of the first floor had been converted into a makeshift warehouse and garage, where more of their ill-gotten loot was being stored. As he opened the door into the garage however something hit him in the face. Something very hot and very painful.

"AAAH!"

The pepper ball quickly sent him into a coughing fit, but before he could try to wipe at his face to get rid of the irritants, hands reached out and seized hold of him. Pinning him to the ground, cuffs were quickly put on him.

"TOC, we've got a suspect ready for pickup," someone said in English.

From the hazy view the insurgent could glimpse from his puffy eyes, the man could make out half a dozen others wearing tactical armor and wielding a variety of weapons. While they had the look of soldiers, none of them wore the insignia of the Britannian Armed Forces. Instead emblazoned on their backs was the single world, GENDARME.

The Imperial Britannian Gendarmerie was a distinct service branch, separate from both the armed forces and the local police elements. Founded originally to provide law enforcement in areas yet to be formally organized into provinces as the Empire expanded across the Americas, these days it also served as an elite counterterrorism and hostage rescue unit. While they were officially considered military police, the Gendarmerie placed a much heavier emphasis on the latter than the former of that classification, with its members trained extensively in policing methods and generally expected to exercise restraint in order to take criminals alive to stand trial. Only in extreme circumstances were they expected to employ lethal force, which was likely the only thing that would see these insurgents live past this day. Had the army been sent in to deal with them, their first choice would probably have been to blow the entire building, regardless of the collateral damage that might have caused.

"How many gas grenades we got left?" the team lead asked his subordinates.

"Still got two on me."

"One here."

"Alright, let's move slow and steady then. No telling if these guys were careful or not with their weapons, so no more flashes. I'd rather not blow us up with them."

"Roger that," one of the gendarmes heartedly agreed.

"Team 2, status?" the lead officer said into the radio.

"Still no activity on the second floor on our end," came the response. "Either these guys are completely asleep or they still don't know what's happening."

"Right, let's not get cocky here. Team 1 will proceed up the stairs and take positions covering the corridor. Team 2, silent entry once we're up there. Wedge every door you see. I want the suspects contained, then we'll clear room by room."

"Roger that, tac lead. Waiting on you."

The four-man team headed up the stairs, careful to move silently but quickly. As they walked down the hallway, each door they passed saw a wedge shoved under it to jam it shut. With enough force one could arguably still force it open, assuming one could ram the hinges off, but it should still slow the enemy down a bit.

"This is Sierra 1," another voice sounded over the radio. "I've spotted the suspects, they seem to be having some sort of drinking party in the northwest room."

"Probably why they haven't tried investigating the noise," an officer remarked.

"Bunch of amateurs, these blokes."

"Better amateurs than proper insurgents," tac lead said. "Copy that, Sierra 1. Let us know if any of them head out."

The two gendarme teams soon linked up and with eight officers total, they were likely more than enough to sweep the rest of the insurgents. Of course, there was still plenty of opportunity for things to get messy beforehand as thumping sounded against a door.

"Doa ga fusagareteru!" the man cried out. "Nani ga okotteiru!?"

"Shit, get that door open and neutralize the suspect!" tac lead ordered.

As if in response, suddenly the door swung wide open and the next moment multiple tasers discharged, sending electricity cruising through the insurgent.

"On the floor, now!" one of the gendarmes shouted.

The insurgent complied, not that his convulsing form could do anything else.

"Uh, was that a bit excessive?" one of the other gendarmes remarked.

"Nah, he's still alive."

"Yeah, now he knows why the door was blocked."

"And what's happening."

That was probably a bit too snarky to be considered professional, but considering the stress of the mission, the gendarmes could probably be excused if that was the extent of their venting. The lead officer simply rolled his eyes. Sometimes it certainly felt like his own men were the amateurs on site.

"Secure the suspect and call him in," lead ordered. "We've still got the rest of the building to clear."

The other rooms were mercifully empty, of people at least, the haphazard way weapons were strewn about further emphasized the ramshackle discipline these insurgents adhered to. That no one stumbled out into the hallway either was odd enough to prompt some inquiries from tac lead to their overwatch.

"Sierra 1, this is tac lead, are the suspects still drinking themselves into oblivion?"

"Still drinking, those that're still conscious," came the response. "You should be able to take them by surprise."

"Understood."

"This should be easy," one officer remarked.

Another promptly slapped him over the head. "Don't taunt Murphy, you idiot."

"Ow," came the exaggerated complaint.

"Stow it," tac lead ordered. "There are two doors leading into that room. Team 1, take position on the left one. Team 2, the right. Team 2, wand your door, I'll get the left one."

"Roger that."

Taking out an optiwand, the officer slid the probe under the door and looked at the display. From his vantage point, he could see four standing men drinking while another two were lounging around in chairs, though it was unclear whether they were really out of it or just lazing about.

"Alright," he said softly. "Team 2, prepare for silent entry on my count with gas."

"Roger that."

"Team 1, stack to the left, gas and clear on my go. The suspects are definitely drunk, so we should be able to take them alive." The officer looked at one of the other gendarmes. "So I don't think the 40mm grenade launcher is warranted."

The officer looked down at the weapon, then back up at the leader. "Well, you know, they might not be thinking straight if they're drunk."

The grenade launcher was not actually loaded with explosives, it was generally used when there was a need to lob stingers or gas grenades down a long corridor or the like. At the range they were about to engage however, the claim that any stingers or gas grenades fired were 'less than lethal' was a bit more incredulous.

Tac lead rolled his eyes. "Switch to your secondary, I don't want to have to write you up for excessive force."

"Aww," the man said, though he obeyed and swapped out to a pepper ball gun.

"Alright, Team 2 ready?"

"Team 2 ready."

"Three, two, one, go!"

When the two doors swung open, the people inside had about a single moment to wonder what was going on before canisters of gas were flung inside. They scrambled for weapons, but the thickening smoke was quickly overwhelming them as they coughed violently.

"On the ground now!"

Arguably screaming orders in English to a bunch of Japanese insurgents might not have been the most effective way to obtain compliance. That being said, the shouting at this point was more a formality than anything else since it was accompanying tear gas and pepper spray. No tazing this time at least, the suspects were too drunk to warrant it. As it was, the men that had their binging so abruptly interrupted ended up needing to be carried out by the gendarmes. Maybe the hosing down they would get at the station would help sober them up, as well as wash out the stink of alcohol.

The prefect building that doubled as an unofficial clubhouse for the head girl and her deputies was, as expected of a school as prestigious as Ashford, well-appointed and quite comfortable. There was even a maid attending to the students currently sitting in its parlor, though it might be more accurate to say that the maid was attending to her mistress, Milly, whilst the rest were benefiting by being Milly's guests.

"I know the two of you just started," Milly said to two of those guests, "but I thought this would be a good opportunity to introduce you to my deputies and vice versa. If you ever run into any problems here at the school, you can come to any of us for help or advice."

"That is certainly appreciated, Lady Ashford," Suzaku said, seated in his electric wheelchair instead of one of the loveseats or sofas.

"Please, Milly is just fine," the girl said with a wide smile. "Here I'm just another student at the academy, even if my grandfather owns the place."

The other Britannians rolled their eyes, clearly signaling it was fine to not take Milly too seriously. Not that Kaguya and Suzaku could not figure that out for themselves.

"Anyway. Why don't you get the ball started, Rivalz?"

"Sure," the cheerful looking youth with marine-colored hair gave a smile. "As Milly already mentioned, the name's Rivalz. I'm prefect for the junior class, and in the same homeroom as Suzaku. Nice to meet both of ya."

The chestnut-haired girl seated next to him was next.

"Hi, I'm Shirley. I'm one of the deputies that helps Milly with the general administrative work, like getting her to sign papers and making sure she files requests in time. I'm also in the same homeroom as Rivalz and Suzaku."

A few chuckles sounded there, not least from Milly herself. All eyes fell on last girl whose olive-colored hair was tied into a tight bun. For some reason she looked noticeably more nervous. Milly reached over to give her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

"Umm, I'm Nina," the girl managed after the encouragement. "I'm in charge of the club budgets."

And ended her introduction promptly.

"Well," Milly said, taking charge once more, "now I'd say it's your turn."

"By all means," Kaguya said with a bright smile of her own. "I am Kaguya, and I will be attending Ashford Academy as a freshman from this term onwards. I am looking forward to seeing what your fine school has to offer, and I hope we all get along swimmingly."

Gazes shifted over to Suzaku, to see how he would follow-up on that. The youth smiled wryly.

"I'm Suzaku. I'll be joining as a junior, and I hope it won't be too much trouble accommodating my, well," he glanced down at his wheelchair, "needs."

To that Milly gave a snort. "Please, Suzaku. Where do you think we are? Ashford Academy is perfectly capable of accommodating any student that enrolls, regardless of their disability."

"That's good to hear," the young man said.

"Right, so all you need to worry about are your coursework and what clubs you intend to join," Milly went on.

Suzaku tilted his head a bit. "Clubs?"

"What, do you really think you're only here to study?" Milly said.

"Umm, is that not what school is for?"

Milly gave the youth a pitying look, then glanced over at Kaguya. "Was your cousin always this serious?"

Kaguya giggled. "Not quite, but close."

"Well, let's see if we can change that," Milly said. "The academy has quite a few extracurricular clubs and sports team. Rivalz there is part of the chess club, while Shirley is on the swimming team. Nina is part of the local Society of Physics Students chapter, and I'm in the equestrian club."

"Are there any clubs related to Japanese culture?" Kaguya inquired.

Milly gave a prompt nod and a wide smile. "There's a combined shogi and go club, and they're real big rivals with the chess club. Right, Rivalz?"

"Well, it's more the shogi guys that're the hotblooded ones," Rivalz said. "The go players are pretty chill."

"How did those two games end up in one club?" Suzaku wondered aloud. "Were there just not enough students to make two clubs?"

"Not exactly," Milly said. "There's only a finite number of rooms that can be used for clubrooms, and the go and shogi club came about later, so there was only one room left at the time. As a compromise, both teams combined to form one club so they could both meet, so it ended up working out. If the school ever expands and we get more clubrooms, they might end up splitting, since there are a decent number in both groups." The girl flashed another smile. "And don't worry, their room is wheelchair accessible."

"Oh uh, that's good to know," Suzaku said with a wry smile of his own.

"Is there a tea ceremony club?" Kaguya asked. "Or is that a bit too esoteric?"

"Umm, there isn't an actual tea ceremony club," Milly said, "but there is a, not exactly a club, but a study group that some of the Japanese students run, that does something they call waka."

Kaguya's eyes widened. "Really?"

The girl's surprise was well warranted. A type of poetry that originated in classical Japanese literature, waka was much less well-known than its modern counterpart of haiku. Whereas the latter had a three part sequence of five-seven-five syllables, tanka, the predominant form of waka, appended two more sequences of seven syllables each. Waka was very old, a variant of it having been used in the Kojiki, which recorded the creation myth that the Japanese imperial family used to legitimize their reign. It was also especially prominent during the Heian era, the timeframe in which the families of Kyoto House claimed to trace their lineage, and in the case of the Sumeragi family, their relation to the imperial family, back to. Kaguya was well versed in waka, having been obliged to study the various historical imperial anthologies that recorded countless examples of the poems. She would not have expected others to pay any particular attention to them, much less actively engage in their composition in this day and age.

"I think it got started by Japanese students whose parents were having them take supplemental language lessons outside of school, and they wanted a place to get together and study together," Milly said, providing a possible rationale for why the students were bothering to compose waka. "These days they seem to do some informal competitions amongst themselves, but I honestly don't know too much about it, beyond that they can get pretty heated. You'd have to drop in and take a look yourself."

"I think I will," Kaguya said with a nod.

Poetry in Japan was both historically and even now serious business. For a society that prized the aesthetic form their language took, the artistry possible in composition was certainly not going to be overlooked. Back during the days of the Heian court, poetry was even an instrument of political intrigue. Being able to compose a beautiful poem was regarded as a measure of worth, with courtiers even going to lengths to sabotage their rivals at the various poetry contests held. One particular trick was, upon finding out what poem someone else intended to present, to try and claim that the poet had simply copied an existing poem, for what greater demonstration of inadequacy and unoriginality could there be than the pilfering of another's work? And as proof of such copying, the accuser might bring out an old scroll with the relevant poem already inscribed within. But wait! What's this? The ink is of a different pigmentation! As if it were newly written on! As a courtier, one needed to be careful not to be caught within one's own lie, for the one greater sin than unoriginality was to be shown to be a poor conspirator. Such was the nature of the Heian imperial court.

The makeshift study group likely did not engage in such intrigues and were probably only engaging in waka for fun. Still, Kaguya had encountered so few of her own peers that cared for poetry that she was eager to see what they were capable of, and how her own mettle compared. Perhaps they might even turn into a proper club, engaging in all the intricacies of poetry appreciation, which included a good tea service.

"What about you, Suzaku?" Milly asked. "Anything you think you'd be interested in?"

"I'm not sure," Suzaku gave a frank answer. "Back when I was a kid, I practiced kendo and aikido, but well, the way I am now…"

The others gave him sympathetic looks.

"So you were more of a sports guy, I take it?" Milly said.

"Yeah," Suzaku said with a dry smile, "I was." The emphasis on the last bit did not escape the others. "And to be honest, I have a lot of responsibilities with the Camelot Institute, so honestly it's probably best if I-"

Before Suzaku could finish Milly interrupted him with a most unladylike raspberry.

"Yeah, nice try," Milly said, "but you're not weaseling your way out of enjoying a proper school life at my school that easily."

"Umm, what?" Suzaku said, staring a bit blankly at the older girl.

"It just so happens," Milly began with a most devious smile, "that I am in need of another deputy to help me with the administrative load that comes with being head girl. I'm afraid I've indulged a bit too much on Rivalz and Shirley's generosity in that regard," the two students both nodded in sync at that, "and Nina already has her hands full with the budget work. And lo and behold, I am gifted with two transfer students, both highly recommended, and both whom I have been asked to look after." The smile was less devious and more mischievous now. "And what better way to keep you two under my thumb, I mean my stewardship, than to assign both of you as student deputies?"

Kaguya covered her mouth in an effort to keep her laughter from overflowing, while Suzaku was staring at Milly in mild bewilderment.

"That's really not-" he tried.

"Nonsense, nonsense!" Milly however would have none of it. "And what better way to get to know all the different clubs to help you find something you'd be interested in joining than to run errands for me-I mean help listen to their concerns and needs?"

The girl's transparency was entirely intentional and all the more amusing because of it. From the way Rivalz was not even trying to hide his snickers to the resigned looks of Nina and Shirley, this was apparently the norm for the Ashford daughter. Kaguya had a giant grin plastered across her own face while Suzaku's was more akin to Nina and Shirley's.

"That being said, there are perks to being a student deputy," Milly remarked. "For one, you get free lunches delivered straight from a proper kitchen instead of the school cafeteria, and even dinner if you end up having to stay late to help with the paperwork."

This time the three other deputies were nodding in agreement, lending Milly's boast about proper food some weight. While meals were not much a concern for Kaguya considering she had the wealth to support any diet she was inclined to, Suzaku notably perked up at the mention of food. Not being much of a cook even before his injury, Suzaku had been reliant on the military cafeterias since his enlistment for his meals. The quality of those meals was, uneven, was about the most generous one could get, though they had noticeably improved since the cardinal arrived and started cleaning house in the military, in addition to Suzaku's own elevation, minor though it was, since joining Camelot. Still, being the growing young man that he was, the opportunity to enjoy higher class food was a genuine inducement for Suzaku. And being able to rightfully claim he was full and thus in no need of further caloric supplementing was useful in and of itself whenever he dropped by Camelot. For reasons.

"And you have free use of the clubhouse itself," Milly said. "I've found that it's a nice, peaceful place to unwind, or to even take a nap after an especially grueling day of classes."

Again more nods. Looking about, Suzaku found that easy to believe. While it was a servant that prepared and served the tea they were now enjoying, the maid in question had taken out all of the necessary implements from cabinets within the room itself. That included not just the tea set, with pot, electric kettle, and cups enough for all, but also the container of tea leaves as well.

"If there are any snacks or drinks that you personally prefer, let me know," Milly continued. "Anything within reason, I can make sure we have stocked here too."

An implicit acknowledgment, that for all the rich flavor of the tea being served, it was certainly not the green tea that Kaguya or Suzaku might be more used to. Though in Suzaku's case he barely remembered how green tea tasted, not having had a cup since the occupation began.

"That is most kind of you," the young man said nonetheless. "And, well, if you think I might be of some assistance, then I will lend what meager aid I can."

Milly chuckled slightly. "No need to be so humble, Suzaku. Think of this as an opportunity to have some fun, alongside with making yourself useful."

"I'll certainly try."

"What pray tell are the duties being a deputy entails?" Kaguya asked. "You explained it in general terms, but what would be the some of the actual work that we would perform?"

"Most of it isn't too big a deal," Milly said. "You'll collate the attendance records for your year, help clubs make purchases if you're one of the deputies authorized to use the school credit card, and act as sort of the first level of disciplinary action for anyone acting out before they get referred to the teachers. Probably the biggest item you'll deal with though is helping organize the school festival."

"School festival?" Kaguya said quizzically. "Britannian schools also have those?"

Not that the Japanese girl herself had any experience with them, she only knew of them from stories her minders had told her about their own experiences in the defunct Japanese school system.

"Not normally," Milly said. "This one is arguably something we borrowed from Japanese schools. My grandfather thought it would be a good opportunity for students to learn how to organize and run events, so it's been a yearly tradition since Ashford's founding. It runs for three days, with an all-school ball on the evening of the last day as the capstone." A smile crossed the girl's face. "Arguably some of the students look forward to that more than the festival itself."

"I can well imagine," Kaguya said with a giggle. "I can also imagine that your hand would be in high demand as a partner for the ball."

Milly blew a raspberry. "About all that means is I don't get nearly as much time to just sit down and eat as I want."

"If you actually took someone as a date instead of going as a single you wouldn't have that problem, Prez," Shirley said.

"It would have been easier to just duck out entirely than to find someone both socially acceptable and that I could stomach sticking with for the entire evening," Milly said with an exasperated sigh. "I swear, half the boys of supposed good breeding are so hormone addled at this age you'd think they had never seen a girl before."

To that Kaguya could actually sympathize. Relationships at their social level tended to weigh practical considerations more than emotions. While the notion of romantic love was certainly more widely accepted as desirable in any eventual union, how one's family might benefit politically or economically was still arguably the predominant factor on whether a prospective union might be approved. Of course, based on what she had seen, Milly was in the process of landing one of those boys in the other half.

"Surely for this year's ball you could arrange for a partner?" Kaguya asked, testing the waters to see how much gossip she could get away with. "After all, I cannot imagine His Eminence greeting any other guests of his with such enthusiasm."

Milly was in the midst of taking a snip of tea and just barely managed to avoid spitting it out. Her friends were looking at her with wide eyes, suggesting this was not as yet something she had shared with them, though their reactions ranged from simple surprise on Shirley and Nina's part to seeming dismay on Rivalz's. Milly quickly wiped her mouth of what tea had spilled before deigning to answer.

"Guests from outside the school need prior permission to attend," Milly said, causing eyes to further widen all around as the girl did not even attempt to deny it. "And I somehow doubt Lelouch is going to have the time to attend something as, frivolous, as a school dance. He does have an entire administrative area to run after all."

To that Shirley let out a squeal while Nina looked slightly worried. Rivalz on the other hand slumped over, his reaction clear enough that even Suzaku felt necessary to give the young man a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. There would be no love triangle here, it seemed clear enough that Milly herself had her eyes set on Lelouch, much as the cardinal seemed to have his on her.

"You even refer to him by name?" Kaguya asked, feeling giddy at the mere prospect of hearing more. "However did you and His Eminence come to be so close?"

"Oh, that?" Milly said, actually shrugging. "I knew him back when he was still a prince. I lived in Pendragon before moving to Japan, and my family was on very familiar terms with Lelouch's mother. So in a way we kind of grew up together."

"Oh ho, so a childhood friendship turned into romance?" Kaguya said.

Milly did not respond immediately to that, instead swirling her teacup as she gazed down at the liquid's reflection contemplatively.

"That remains to be seen," the girl finally said. "The Lelouch that I so cherished in those days past, he is still there. But also there is this Cardinal of Eden Vital. A good man in his own right, possessed of kindness and will, superb qualities any woman could ask for. For the Prince Lelouch, I would have given my heart. For the Cardinal Lamperouge, he still needs to demonstrate his worthiness in that regard."

"My," Kaguya murmured more softly.

It seemed the relationship between the two was deeper than even she had suspected. What Kaguya had thought was just a simple romance was turning into something far more complex, something that had the potential to be far more enduring. It was an actual courtship dance unfolding, one that involved not just the family behind the two, but the two direct participants, feeling each other out to see if the other could fulfill their needs. Kaguya had perhaps treated this courtship too lightly, as mere gossip instead of a serious search for a life partner. The fact that it was indeed a serious, genuine exchange made the whole affair even more beguiling somehow.

A knock sounded on the door before anyone else could respond and a maid, the very same one that had prepared the tea and snacks for them, entered.

"Apologies for the interruption, milady, but a guest has arrived that claims to be an old friend of yours, and I believe you may want her seen to right away."

Milly frowned quizzically but shrugged. "Show her in, Sayako."

"At once, milady."

The maid opened the door further, indicating that the guest was already waiting outside. As Milly moved to drain her teacup, her eyes suddenly flared wide open and this time she really did end up spitting out the drink. There standing in the doorway, a fair young woman with long pink hair beamed a wide smile with twinkling violet eyes.

"Hello, Milly," she said in a melodic voice. "It's been a while."

Shooting straight up to her feet, Milly's response was far less restrained.

"Euphie!?"

End of Chapter 15

Wonder how many people got the reference to that bit in the gendarme raid.

There is going to be a very, very interesting conversation next chapter. And also maybe a bit of yelling.

I keep forgetting that not everyone is familiar with Nightmare of Nunnally. In that continuity, Mao is a small girl about the age of Nunnally, with a geass called the Refrain, which does much the same as the canon drug. In my version, her ability is a bit different and Refrain is still an actual drug, but one that Mao can use to supplement her power. The Mao from canon is also present (and yes I was intentionally being ambiguous with the names in the previous section so one needs to read somewhat closely to be able to keep track of which Mao is speaking), with more or less the same mind reading ability, and the two in combination are capable of some very insidious modifications of other people's memories and perceptions.