Recap: Thanks to Lelouch, Jim was officially declared as the Viceroy of Area Fifteen. Charles is pushing a noble girl as a marriage prospect. Lelouch is upset Charles said no to marrying Kaguya, and Kaguya is recovering from an assassination attempt.
Chapter 4: Cut the Rope
Position successfully acknowledged by requisite parties. Expect to receive a team of importance. Will require assistance in two tasks: acquiring the asset and eliminating a thorn. Expect destabilization.
Death to Britannia
—Intercepted Message from China
Imperial Palace, New Pendragon
A summer haze had settled over the palace as the pavement turned hot enough to cook an egg. Lelouch wouldn't be surprised if some of the more spirited children were taking the opportunity to do exactly that. He, meanwhile, continued to entertain Thalia, not entirely sure why she greeted him so eagerly everyday. He hadn't done anything for her yet. At least, she was being exceptionally polite to Kaguya.
Once he got her a commission in the navy, he would finally be able to wipe his hands clean and focus on the people who actually mattered. Unfortunately, pulling a significantly prestigious position out of thin air was easier said than done.
"One of the MEF's consuls is waiting for you outside," Henry interrupted.
Lelouch looked up from his assortment of letters with a frown. "Did he say why?"
"Only that it was urgent." Henry sneered. "Should I send him off?"
Could it be because of Nimra? While her marriage had significant symbolic and political value, there had also been religious backlash. He had a cordial relationship with the MEF, but local discontent could have forced them into action.
"Send him in," Lelouch ordered.
Henry surveyed his office. "In here?"
Lelouch paused, sliding a stack of classified reports into a drawer. "Yes. He called on me unannounced. Let him see that I made time for him despite being busy."
Henry gave a brief nod and marched out of the room before returning with a young man dressed in a conservative Britannian suit. The MEF ambassador always wore his country's traditional attire, but his subordinate clearly had a different goal.
The consul inclined his head slightly. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice, Your Highness."
"It must be an urgent topic to bring you here without an appointment," Lelouch noted as he returned to scanning through his intelligence reports. Alex had finally crossed into Europe.
"I—" The man winced. "I apologize for being too forward, Your Highness. I've come to plead for your assistance."
"With?" Lelouch asked, glaring over the top of the report at the man.
To his credit, the consul stood upright. "China has been encroaching on our territory. Their troops are amassing along the borders. An invasion is imminent."
Why in the world would China…
The man took a deep breath. "Our military is unprepared. We do not have the strength nor resources to repel your brother, Consort Schneizel."
His brother… Schneizel, married off to the Tianzi because his father had felt annoyed… Had he already clawed his way to a position of power? But what could he hope to accomplish by attacking the MEF? Or was there someone else in the Chinese Federation that was so foolish?
Lelouch set down his papers and leaned forward. "Why is this matter my concern?"
"You were the one to help us before!" the man blustered. "We are at peace because of the treaty you negotiated."
"Do you take me for a fool? You've benefited from my actions. If anything, that puts your country into my debt. Why should I raise a hand to help you?"
The consul's neck tightened and his fists clenched. He brushed his hands against his pants and took a deep breath. "We've kept the peace regarding your actions in Area Fifteen." He sneered. "If I were to hazard a guess, crashing the price of oil was your work. That plunged us into debt, but we bowed our head because that is the position we are in. The ambassador seems to think you are a friend to our nation. Friends help friends who are in need. But if you wish to keep a ledger of who owes whom, you owe us."
When Lelouch had first involved the MEF in his plans, it was because they were a neutral party to negotiate through. They had been too weak to be seen as a threat by either the Chinese Federation or the E.U. That gave them a special talent to mediate the conflict of the three superpowers.
He hadn't thought far enough ahead, and now, he had… debts.
If only the Chinese Federation had continued to be complacent, to fight amongst themselves like they had for the past decade. What could have possibly incentivized them to go to war?
"My problem," Lelouch said, letting his fatigue show as he leaned back in his chair, "is that I cannot fathom what you expect me to do. You don't have the authority to make an official request, and I do not have the power to act on any such request. It's not like you requested Britannia to act as a mediator and are asking that I volunteer for the role."
The consul stared at him strangely. "You undersell your influence. If you would plead our case to the—"
"The Emperor?" Lelouch chuckled darkly. "Do you think he is so easily influenced? At best, I bring his attention to the pitiful weakness of your country. At worst, I open myself to the accusation of collaborating with a foreign nation."
"You are his heir!" the consul snapped. Sweat collected in the furrows of his brow. A manic gleam shone in his eyes. Had he truly thought he could go to a Britannian prince and demand things without consequences?
"Prince Odysseus is first in line for the throne," Lelouch hissed. This conversation was getting dangerous. "Succession is an internal matter. If you so desperately need to have the Emperor's ear, schedule an appointment with Prince Odysseus. He is the Prime Minister, afterall."
The man opened his mouth, ready to hurtle another angry argument but abruptly paused. "Do you truly not see it or are you trying to play us as fools? Anyone with eyes can see that he intends for you to be his heir."
"Leave," Lelouch ordered. "I already warned you."
"You are the second most powerful man in Britannia. If you fail to act, this coming war will be your fault."
"Henry, throw him out."
Lelouch clenched the edge of his desk, letting the wood bite into his palm. He needed the pain to ground him, to remind him where he was while his heart raced away from his thoughts.
He couldn't be the heir. His father would be insane to make such a decision. Lelouch had told him that he despised Britannia. No man would choose a successor that hated his life's work.
"Lelouch?" Henry asked cautiously.
"Odysseus will be the Emperor," Lelouch whispered. It had to be that way.
"Would—Would it be so deplorable if you succeeded to the throne?"
His head snapped toward Henry. "What?"
"You would be a good emperor, Lelouch."
Lelouch shook his head. He would drown in the robes. The weight of the crown would break his neck. He would take his last breath on the throne. His body wouldn't even have the chance to cool before his child would push it to the ground and greedily claim the cursed crown as their own.
Maybe, it was selfish to push such a task off onto Odysseus. It would destroy him as surely as it would destroy Lelouch. But was it wrong for Lelouch to crave his own life?
"I need to talk to Odysseus," Lelouch mumbled as he turned to the computer and began drafting a formal request. Now that his brother was the Prime Minister, he could no longer drop by when the mood suited him.
Odysseus would be able to set his mind at ease. He was closer to Father; he knew what the bastard wanted.
The consul was a foreigner. He had to be mistaken.
Ashford Academy, Area Eleven
Charlotte. That was her name now. Never Chino. Never again. She liked her new name, even as it felt like wearing someone else's clothes.
Charlotte Lamperouge. That was a name with power. A name that would protect her.
"The Eleven is over there again," a few students whispered as they passed by her spot curled up against the window. "She's a rather pitiful creature."
"Shhh. Someone might hear you."
"And tell Prince Lelouch that we aren't being nice to his pet?"
"I still can't believe he's a prince. I guess he was only pretending to be a soldier." The girls' voices grew quieter as they walked away, their gossiping never ending.
Charlotte rubbed her eyes and stared out at the horizon. She missed Suzaku, but ever since that man had threatened her, she hadn't even dared to utter his name out loud. He was their enemy now; she read the news.
There were so many things she didn't understand. Why had her parents abandoned her for a stupid fight? Why had Suzaku even bothered to care for her when he was so important? He was a Kururugi. What had Prince Lelouch been thinking when he honored the request of his enemy?
Honestly, she didn't understand Prince Lelouch at all. He had hardly made sense as a strange soldier who got along with Sensei and understood Japanese. He made even less sense now.
Still, she was grateful. He had brought her under his protection. The last time she could remember having enough to eat had been in the hazy forgotten warmth of childhood. Now, there was enough food to eat every night. She no longer had to worry that someone bigger and stronger would rip it out of her hands. She was safe.
"You're sulking," her brother declared as he climbed up onto the window shelf next to her. Unlike her, he hated his new name: Kevin. "He's never coming back."
"Lelouch or…"
He pulled his knees close to his chest. "Both of 'em. They abandoned us. Even Dad—"
She slapped a hand over his mouth. How could he be so stupid? "Don't run your mouth."
Kevin glared at her before burying his head in his knees. "You're going to leave me too."
"What?"
Words nearly unintelligible, he mumbled, "You're trying to sneak out, and then, you won't come back."
"I—" Her protest died on her lips. It was true. "I want to enlist."
"But why?" Kevin cried. "They kill people. They killed everyone."
"I don't belong here."
Ashford Academy was a school for the rich and wealthy. She was behind in every class, desperately trying to catch up but her efforts were never enough. Every time the students saw her, she just proved that Elevens were stupid. It didn't matter that her ID claimed her as a Britannian, everyone here knew the truth. They were too high class for her to blend in.
"He saved us," Charlotte added. "I want to serve him. They protect each other over there."
"I hate you," Kevin snarled, shoving her abruptly and running off before she could shout after him.
It was so frustrating! Why couldn't he understand? Why did she have to look out for him? Why couldn't he just be grateful?
Gritting her teeth, she turned back to the window and stared at the regular patrol of guards on the ground. Once she was past them, the recruiter would let her sign up for the army without any further trouble.
A guilty voice in the back of her mind whispered she was being too harsh on Ko. His mother died protecting him during the massacre. And his father… Ko insisted that he was alive.
She shook her head. She couldn't fall down that trap. Kevin. It had to be Kevin. She couldn't let herself slip, not even in her own thoughts.
That was the price for their current comfort, and she would gladly have paid ten times as much to escape that hell hole .Sighing, she pushed herself off the ledge and smoothed out her skirt before setting off to find Kevin. Unfortunately, this was part of the cost as well.
She only escaped because Sensei brought her along with Ko—Kevin. It had been purely luck. She wasn't actually their sister. And that meant Prince Lelouch would always prioritize Kevin.
She found him in the gardens, crouched behind a rock and drawing kanji in the dirt with a stick.
With a yelp, he hastily covered his tracks, only relaxing when he saw it was her. "You scared me."
"I'm sorry." She sat down on the rock and reminded herself that he was seven. When she had been seven, she had deluded herself endlessly that everything would be fine. That her parents actually cared. "I know you miss your family, but they're never coming back."
Kevin hunched his shoulders. "They're still alive."
Suzaku, yes. The papers would celebrate his death when it would inevitably happen. He should have just accepted Prince Lelouch's offer and come along. Then they could all be together.
Why did he have to go off on the same stupid fight as her parents?
"But they're fighting." She patted his head. "That's more important to them."
"You're lying," he whispered desperately.
She eyed him with pity. He had to accept the truth. "Before… How often was your father even home?"
"It was important," Kevin whimpered.
"And after, he didn't even come back. Sensei had to take care of you, all on his own." She scowled. Everything had happened because they insisted on fighting, but instead of being angry at the terrorists, Sensei chose to join them. "They left us because we were a burden."
"You're lying," Kevin mumbled. "You're lying. You're lying."
She leaned down and wrapped him in a hug. "It's okay. We're safe now. Lelouch broke the rules to take care of us. He won't abandon us."
Would he?
"He won't leave us," she repeated. The only reason they were here, stuck at Ashford, was because that bastard—Fatman or something—insisted it was better. She didn't like that man at all.
"He's forgotten about us," Kevin insisted. "He doesn't care at all. We're just Elevens."
"I don't think he cares about that," she said. "He's even close to that Sumeragi lady. She's Japanese."
"They were arguing," Kevin said. "I bet he hates her now."
"He's a prince," Charlotte declared. "If he hated her, she would be dead already."
Kevin gave her a disturbed look.
"Come on. Let's clean you up." Sighing, she wiped off his face and lent him her hand. She would have to postpone sneaking out for now. At least, until he was more settled. "You're a Britannian now. Act like it."
Outskirts of Tokyo, Area Eleven
Condensed water trailed down her glass as Kallen impolitely finished the iced tea to battle the laborious summer heat. Her step-mother was eagerly socializing to the side, surrounded by numerous other mothers. Each one had one topic on their mind: a lucrative match for their offspring.
Unfortunately, true to Lelouch's warning, her hand had become a prized commodity. If she had any desire to play the game, she could easily emerge with multiple partners hanging onto her arms.
Forlornly, she studied the party attendees, not finding the one person who should have been there: Kaguya, who always procured an invitation to any noteworthy gathering.
A chance to meet her handler and pass off more incriminating information had been the only reason Kallen had let herself be dragged along. Without Kaguya, this entire affair was a tedious waste of time. She had better things to do, like checking in on the children Lelouch had adopted.
Idling made her legs thrum in anxiety. She had to focus on something, anything to distract from the blood drenching her hands. Nothing she could ever do would make up for the thousands of lives she took. Yet, here she was, being rewarded for it, buried in social prestige. How much would she need to destroy to create that future Lelouch envisioned? How far could she go before the JLF would decide enough was enough?
Intelligence claimed that the JLF had established itself in North Africa, and their squads were collaborating with countless groups on the western coast. Those same groups that Lelouch had spent over a year plying with favors.
Who would be betrayed?
Her glass wobbled precariously as she reached to massage her temples. Her thoughts wouldn't let her be. They had been running rampant ever since that fateful simulator day.
Where the fuck was Kaguya?
Brusquely, she pushed herself off the table, nearly headbutting a young gentleman who had come to make conversation.
Her eyes swept over the attendees, and then she shook her head at her shortsightedness. She truly was adopting the habits of the Britannian nobility. Kaguya was the JLF's hand in noble affairs, but servants were allowed everywhere.
There.
A young Japanese man clearing the tables and loitering a bit too close to the ladies conversing near him.
But before she approached him, she had to do the small talk thing to subtly determine where the fuck Kaguya was. It wasn't like she had a plethora of unsupervised free time under Lelouch. Hiding her grimace, Kallen approached her step-mother who immediately jumped on the opportunity to present her "daughter."
In these circles, her birth mother was always discarded. A bastard child like herself—because Britannia would never recognize a marriage between a Number and a Britannian—was supposed to renounce their old identity and every tie to it.
There had always been whispers that she was a "rescued" child—or "stolen" child, depending on whom one talked to. That didn't matter. The real scandal lay in the fact that she bore her mother's Eleven name until the invasion. That she still treasured Japan.
One of the ladies, brown doe eyes peeking over her white lace fan, interrupted, her voice saccharine, "A pity that she only takes after her father."
"The red hair is all his," her step-mother weakly joked.
"A trait she shares with her brother, your new designated heir. He flaunts his inferior heritage, and I hear you never claimed him, not before last summer, at least."
Not for the first time, Kallen wondered if she should interfere. For years, she had been taught to deny her heritage in public, as if it was a source of shame. In the eyes of more radical factions, she was a target to be cleansed. Then with Kaguya, her past became a reminder that marked her as a potential traitor. For all that the division encouraged her to embrace her heritage, she still didn't know if she should accept that role in public.
It would add fuel to the rumors that Prince Lelouch was a Number lover; he was. Lelouch had every intention of pushing for Number rights in all aspects of society.
Would her stepping out help or hinder him?
What would best serve Kaguya's purposes?
Her step-mother crossed her arms and took the opportunity to intervene out of her hands. "He is a bastard, but my husband prefers to see his own blood wielding the family name. Kallen is simply meant to fly beyond the humble Stadtfeld estate."
The woman scoffed. "Anyone with eyes can see he is an Eleven. If he wasn't sleeping with the prince's guard, he would be sleeping in the gutters. Are you that desperate to accept vermin into the house so you can whore your daughter out to the prince for future favor? Rumor has it he's impotent."
"Watch your mouth," Kallen snapped; she was his guard and bound to defend his honor. "He is still your prince."
"Struck a nerve?" the woman tutted as vague giggles rose from the gathering crowd. "I won't fault you for your ambition—"
"I am his guard." Kallen took a deep breath, desperately trying to regain her fraying calm. It would be so much easier if ladies commonly brawled. "Frankly, I have no grand ambitions. I wanted to finish school, but my talent in a knightmare caught Empress Marianne's eye. Prince Lelouch is the only reason I am not perpetually stuck as her sparring partner."
Some of the women winced in sympathy, others blanched, and a few smiled fondly.
Snapping shut her fan, the woman leaned forward. "Then you are a fool, girl. You should have sought shelter behind Princess Nunnally. A female guard at a man's side…" She shook her head. "That can only mean one thing. I would find some ambition and work your way up to being his knight. At least, he can't then discard you like yesterday's trash."
Her neck burned. This was not a discussion she had come prepared for. "Prince Lelouch would never force—"
The woman rolled her eyes. "Dear, he doesn't need force. He could simply order you to attend to him in his room, to ease his worries, to console him."
"Mama!" a young boy interrupted, shoving his way through the fray of skirts to grab the woman's hand. "They're being mean to me."
Kallen's breath caught in her throat as the boy turned, his startling sky blue eyes perfectly framed by his golden blond hair.
The woman grimaced, patting the boy's head. "If your family truly lacks such ambition, then you better pray the prince is impotent."
"Mama!" the boy demanded.
She sighed. "Excuse me, my child calls."
Silence hung in her wake, and Kallen rubbed her arms.
"Prince Clovis…" her step-mother whispered.
"I'm sorry for her," their host, Lady Heuberger, interrupted. She had recently established herself in Area Eleven and, according to her step-mother, was steadily climbing her way to the top of the social hierarchy by hosting numerous extravagant luncheons. "I step away for just one moment— Well, what can I say? I am sure she means well, but really, anyone with eyes can see Prince Lelouch is besotted with Lady Sumeragi. They are quite cute."
"Lady," a woman spat, rolling her eyes. "That is overly generous."
Lady Heuberger shrugged, the creases at her eyes suggesting a woman used to taking things in stride. She finished wiping her glasses, and once they settled on her nose, she gave off a distinctly cat-like impression, strengthened by the grey speckles in her black hair.
Inclining her head, her step-mother thanked her for the invitation. "It is truly an event to remember."
"I should thank you for dragging your daughter along." Lady Heuberger chuckled. "This young generation seems intent on hiding from our old eyes. For good reason perhaps, when every conversation seemingly hinges on their marriage prospects. There is so much more that governs their future. The Empire is theirs to inherit, and with it, all the glory and bulging boils. Listen to me, Lady Kallen, any man who refuses your hand because he thinks your honor is besmirched would have only made you miserable. Take your time and find your happiness."
"Easy for you to say," a woman said. "Your father, brother, and husband all died within the first month of your marriage, leaving you as the sole heir."
"Truly, fortune favored me," Lady Heuberger said, her face far too joyful for such a tragedy. "Independent wealth is such a boon in finding a truly happy future for yourself. It led me to my darling husband, a man I'd brave hell for. And he would do the same for me."
"Thank you for the advice," Kallen said. "It is refreshing to hear such a perspective."
"Oh, they are all thinking it. Half of them are plotting their husbands' deaths, trying to find a way that lets them walk away scot free. The mistake is having children before the crime, then they end up inheriting everything, and you're reliant on a little beast for your own basic necessities."
"I see…" The murderous spouse was a common trope for a reason, but to speak so openly of it, with her, a prince's guard, was strange. Unless she was trying to imply Kallen was plotting her charge's assassination? "You mentioned Miss Sumeragi? I haven't seen her."
One of the women sighed dramatically. "Rumor has it she was arrested."
"Tax fraud."
"Ridiculous, treason."
A humph. "I heard it's protective custody. She is to marry royalty."
"If it was anything of note, every paper would be shouting it in the streets. It was an arrest, though. They dragged her out."
"A slap on the wrist?"
"Someone has to teach the girl her proper place."
Lady Heuberger smiled enigmatically. "Rumors are abound; the only thing we know for certain is that she's no longer in Area Eleven. Mr. Kirihara left on a plane to Pendragon soon after, so I presume she is there. A shame. I had hoped to speak to her." She raised a playful eyebrow. "Did you have a lover's message to pass along?"
Her neck warmed. That was a convenient excuse to cover for being in Kaguya's company. And Lelouch had been sending an absurd number of recovered Japanese artifacts to her.
The only problem was she had to hide her activities from Lelouch who wouldn't be fooled.
"More the opposite. I wanted to inquire if she had anything she wished to tell him."
"Besotted." She laughed, her face alive with wrinkles, so different from the smooth porcelain expressions of most. "While I can be of no further aid, would you return the favor and describe me fondly? I would be delighted to have the joy of your company again in the future."
Kallen swallowed, feeling another thread loop around her. This woman had come to Area Eleven and ensured she became the host of distinguished events, the kind her step-mother liked to attend with marriage on the menu.
She was becoming paranoid.
If Kaguya wasn't here, it was time to leave.
Kallen pulled out her phone. "Oh dear, sorry. I must really go."
Necessary yet tediously boring parting exchanges flew over her head as her step-mother entreated her to stay for longer. Kallen waited a full minute, allowing herself to not appear to be rushed as she scanned the room for the servant she spotted before.
"Thank you, Lady Heuberger," Kallen said with a quick curtsy. Then, hitching up her skirt, she hastily speed-walked the length of the garden.
She clipped the servant's shoulder on the way out. He wobbled precariously.
"Watch yourself," Kallen snapped. "With such a shoddy performance, anyone would think you're traitorous scum."
His eyes widened, and his hand darted to his side. Good. He was sloppy, but hopefully not stupid enough to actually bear an illegal blade.
Were Kaguya here, she would scream at her for taking such an unnecessary risk. Her cover was to be maintained at all costs.
The problem was Kallen very much wanted to sit on the information and never let it see any enemy hands. She knew it would be used against the division, against Lelouch, against her. People she knew, whom she liked, could die because of her actions.
It would be far too easy to say that the risk was too great and let excuses pile up until she sank into complacency, a singular breath away from admitting to her treason.
She focused on the probable spy who had thankfully restrained himself. He couldn't out himself here, but she needed the incentive for him to confront her so they would be alone.
"Wait…" Kallen patted her pockets and grabbed his collar, grudgingly thanking Lelouch for teaching her this trick. "That's my fucking wallet. I bet you were eavesdropping earlier too. When I find your handler…"
She let the threat hang ambiguously in the air and marched off.
Taking a quick detour to the bathroom, she freshened up her hair and pulled out the USB drive of smut. Honestly, Lady Heuberger had given her the perfect cover, but Lelouch's team was far too skilled at catching spies.
They would dig through the drive on the basis of paranoia, instead of reasonable suspicion.
Her fingers curled around the stick as her heart pounded in her ears. Doing it through an intermediary was unnecessarily risky, but she needed to pass on the info.
The servant was waiting outside the door, holding a knife.
The idiot. If this was how he acted, he wasn't going to last a spy.
She was going to have to actually report him. "Only someone trained in a house run by an Eleven could be so ill mannered."
"What?"
She darted forward, catching his wrist and swiftly driving his arm down, so it snapped across her forearm. "Knives are illegal for your kind. Attacking a royal guard meanwhile…"
He blanched. "Of course not! M'lady. I was told to cut some cake for the guest. And well, I wanted to apologize and—"
The knife felt clumsy in her hand, a proper and well used kitchen knife. "You're one of Sumeragi's dogs. She really does handle the most filthy, ill mannered strays. Right?"
Relief shone in his eyes, and he dropped to his knees. "Please forgive me, m'lady."
"You work for Kaguya?"
"Yes, m'lady. Since she is out of town, we are on loan to households across Tokyo."
"Catch," Kallen ordered, throwing at him the USB drive. "Tell her to never bother me with such idiocy again and to reply to her fucking letters."
Good. He was confused.
"And then tell her to fire you for gross incompetence. Well, no. She is too much of a bleeding heart, but warn her, that if I ever see you within the same house as His Highness, I will kill you."
His hands shook as he tucked away the USB drive. Most likely, curiosity would lead to him taking a peek at the contents. He was unprofessional enough too.
Given that Kallen had collected over two hundred erotic stories in the division regarding Lelouch… Officially, she was preserving Lelouch's honor, but it provided a convenient excuse to spy and craft a mortifying and embarrassing cover story.
This idiot before her seemed like the type who would immediately unplug the drive, unable to stand the embarrassment.
"Now, go," Kallen ordered.
Imperial Palace, Pendragon
Lelouch's request for a meeting was answered within a day, surpassing all of his expectations.
"I had been meaning to talk to you," Odysseus explained as he led Lelouch into his private office. For some inexplicable reason, he wasn't wearing shoes. Meanwhile, it looked as if a tornado had blown through, as books and paper were strewn all over. The only spot that was remotely organized was the center of the room where the desk used to be. Now, there lay a giant map. Odysseus winced and moved a stack of books from the armchair and gestured to it aimlessly. "Please sit. Excuse the mess; I have been too preoccupied."
Lelouch slowly picked his way through the minefield to claim the offered seat. Even the air within the room smelled stale. "Don't you have assistants?"
"Yes." Odysseus waved him off as he grabbed an electric kettle and paused. Quickly, he switched to a box of unopened roadside cookies. "Catch."
Lelouch stared at the box dubiously. "You like these?"
"They're easy to get without inciting rumors that the First Prince is having a midnight binge on sweets." Odysseus pushed himself on his desk and clasped his hands together. "Well, as much as I am relieved that you preempted the need to fabricate an excuse for your presence here, I should probably address whatever issue brought you here first."
Lelouch awkwardly glanced around the room, searching for any clue as to what led to his brother's sudden obsession. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Odysseus said impatiently.
"Well…" Lelouch bit his lip and stared at his lap. "The MEF—" He sighed. Their diplomatic concerns weren't why he was here. "Some people believe that the Emperor intends for me to be his heir."
"Lelouch…" Odysseus grabbed a cookie, staring at him in contemplative silence. "And this bothers you?"
"I can't be the Emperor."
"If you asked, I would offer you my crown in a heartbeat," Odysseus said.
"But why!"
"Because you would be good at it." Odysseus raised his hand, cutting off his angry retort. "Honestly, anyone could be the emperor with the proper backing. The only talent you need is ensuring your head remains attached to your shoulders. Or, at least, that's what I used to think."
"What changed?" Lelouch asked. He knew that his brother hadn't wanted the throne for years, only finally taking action at Lelouch's prompting a mere five years ago.
"I started to think that there was such a thing as a bad emperor. That I couldn't abide watching them lead this nation to ruin."
Lelouch nodded, slowly relaxing. "I hate Britannia too much. Father knows that."
His brother's smile was bitter. "The deeper I look, the more I find a nation crumbling from the inside. Perhaps the rot was always there, but it's slowly destroying us. I fear that Britannia will fall regardless of who sits on the throne."
"So?"
"We need an exceptional Emperor. I lack the talent and the skills needed. Meanwhile, you could be extraordinary."
Lelouch did not like where this conversation was going. "I only know war. I don't have the skills to rule."
"Not yet, but I've watched you grow. You have the talent. With a few more years, you could not only learn, but master the art of administration." Odysseus chuckled weakly. "Were you to be crowned tomorrow, you would be a terrible emperor. Knowing your stubbornness and sense of justice, Britannia would descend into a civil war in a few years. But in a few more years…"
"I'll stick to the battlefield," Lelouch vowed quietly. It would be the safest way of preventing anyone from getting foolish ideas.
Studying his brother, Lelouch had to consider it wasn't just his father he had to dissuade. Once crowned as emperor, Odysseus would need to have children… But what if he didn't? What if he designated his much younger brother as his heir?
There was something in his brother's tone that suggested he wasn't phased with the idea of Britannia's destruction. That maybe he would welcome it. He just didn't want to see it.
Odysseus pushed himself off the desk. "Well, I imagine a few ambitious souls see your potential as well and are making their claim now, so you'll remember them fondly if it should ever come to pass."
"I don't want to be the emperor," Lelouch growled.
"They don't know that." Odysseus laughed. "And nothing you say will dissuade them."
Lelouch rose. "But it isn't just that. People are utterly convinced I am currently the heir. Why would they even— You're the Prime Minister! It should be obvious that you are first in line."
Dancing over the obstacles in the way, Odysseus stopped at his side and threw an arm over his shoulders. "Emperors tend to be military men. I'll never be a serious contender in many eyes because I've never set foot on the battlefield."
"But the emperor doesn't go to war himself. Fighting doesn't mean you can lead."
"Yet for the last century, that's how they claimed the throne. You and Cornelia have the military knowledge to make a forceful bid. Although honestly, it's more bewildering that they don't go to Cornelia. She should be a much more obvious contender."
Lelouch finally relaxed. Cornelia was far more suited to rule Britannia. Being the Viceroy of Area Eleven meant she had plenty of administrative experience. He merely needed to ensure that he kept his skill set focused on the military.
As for dissuading Odysseus… It didn't matter. There were many years before it would become a problem. He had time to convince his brother that there were others far more suited to the throne than him.
"Thank you," Lelouch said. "What did you need from me?"
"Ah." Odysseus gently guided him by the shoulder through the field of tripping hazards. "You see those pins on the map? Do they mean anything to you?"
Lelouch looked up at his brother in bewilderment. "We've invaded many of these areas? But if you chose territories at random, chances are that Britannia controls them now."
Odysseus sighed, withdrawing his arms. "I had hoped Father might've said something to you."
"He's more likely to consult you than me."
"I haven't…" Odysseus sat down by the map, using a stack of books as a stool. "There's something I'm not seeing. I can feel it."
Lelouch frowned. "What do the pins represent?"
"I have no idea." He chuckled. "I found an old map in storage. It has been driving me insane trying to understand what it means."
Lelouch carefully stepped closer, letting the tips of his boots brush against the edge of the map. "I didn't take you as someone to indulge random curiosity."
"Maybe I am going insane," Odysseus mumbled. "It's just… If you check the library, every single one of these areas has local history or folklore books missing. I asked Father about one of them. He said he had it."
Averting his eyes from the pins in Europe and China, Lelouch glanced back at the Britannian mainland. He dropped to his knees, precariously leaning over the map to get a better look. "This is one of Father's archeology sites."
Odysseus's head snapped up. "That's not right." He stepped onto the map with his socks and crouched down, pointing to a spot considerably further South. "It's supposed to be here."
Lelouch shook his head. "Henry's sister works here. We also had a trafficking case in the area. Father sent us Lucy—Bradley, and we had to take a considerable detour to avoid the dig site. It's definitely there."
"Why would he hide an archeology site?" Odysseus asked. He sprung to his feet and dove into the chaotic mess of books by the window. Triumphantly, he returned, clutching masking tape in one hand and pressing a stack of papers to his chest. "Let me mark all of them. If they're all near…"
Grabbing one of the papers, Lelouch got to work, his unease growing as each site corresponded to a pin close by.
Lelouch stared at the pin surrounded by a small cluster of islands near the coast of Japan. "How old was that map?"
"There were two. One older than me, with substantially less places marked. And another, a decade before Father took the throne."
"What's the oldest dig site?" Lelouch asked, failing to keep a slight tremor out of his voice.
Odysseus flipped through the papers. "Three months after he was coronated. Actually, wait—" He returned with another stack of papers. "I remembered something…"
Curious, Lelouch stopped next to him. "Deployment of the Knights of the Round?"
"Yes. Ah. Here it is. Your mother supposedly put down some unrest in the region. She was busy for over a month."
"It's not an archeology hobby," Lelouch said, stating the obvious.
"These are targets of some kind."
Their heads turned, away from Britannia and across the Pacific.
Lelouch swallowed. "How many does he need?"
"Every single one to ensure that nobody will ever know what he is hiding."
Geass, most likely.
Lelouch inhaled sharply. "If Cornelia is the viceroy, then—"
"You will be tasked with claiming every single pin."'
His eyes swept over the map, taking in the grand scale. "That's the whole world."
He had hoped to secure peace through diplomacy, ensuring that they didn't have to go to war. Britannia's rapid expansion after Area Eleven had barely made sense. For now, they had sufficient land.
His father had taken care to hide the actual locations of the sites he was interested in, even from his own officials. He would never negotiate for the specific region of interest and risk revealing that there was something of importance. If Britannia's expansion wasn't for military or economic or social means, then diplomacy would accomplish nothing.
The only way forward was war.
"I have to talk to Father," Lelouch choked out, turning to the door.
"Lelouch." Odysseus grabbed his hand, yanking him backwards. "This is not something Father wants people to know, including us. Do you really want to reveal that we know?"
Information control was so easy for someone who could change memories on a whim.
If he demanded an explanation, he would most likely leave with no recollection of why he was even concerned.
"Are you sure your office is clean?" Lelouch whispered.
"Yes," Odysseus said confidently, finally releasing his hand. "I'm sorry, Lelouch, but at least we now know what to prepare for."
"Can—Can you secure a high ranking commission in the navy for the daughter of the Walshe family?" Lelouch asked.
He had intended to put in the proper effort, to trade favors as needed. Now, he no longer had time for distractions. He needed to return to his division. Prepare them for a fully offensive campaign as he tried to find some answer to this dilemma.
"I can do that," Odysseus assured him. "Again, I apologize. Perhaps I should discuss it with Father, leaving out your—"
"No!" Lelouch spun around to face him. "Please. You can't."
"Lelouch?" Odysseus asked carefully.
Should he say anything? This had to be related to geass, and his brother was stumbling in blind. It would be dangerous.
But would more information stop him? Or would it urge Odysseus to dig deeper until he was finally noticed and taken care of?
"I—He—It's—" Lelouch grit his teeth and counted to ten. "If it's what I suspect, he ordered Clovis's death over it."
Odysseus blanched, color draining from his face, and he reached out. He had known the truth. That Lelouch had killed his own brother but not the reason. "Brother..."
Lelouch stuffed his hands in his pockets, as if he could bury the memory of the gun in his hands. He hadn't needed to fire. He had acted out of anger and terror. He had been following orders. There was no way for their story to end without one of them dying.
Warm arms wrapped around him. "I'm so sorry."
"You loved Clovis," Lelouch accused, his voice breaking. Why had he never demanded an answer from him? Even now, he was offering comfort instead.
"I do. He was my brother, but you are too."
So it was fine if two loved ones killed each other. His brother should hate him. Lelouch's fingers curled in, clinging to his brother's fine silken shirt. He should have said nothing. Gone back to that quiet comfort of everyone assuming he was a murderer.
"Father had no right to ask that of you," Odysseus whispered, pulling him in even tighter.
"Please." Lelouch pushed himself back. If he stayed a moment longer, he would break down. "Destroy it. Forget that you saw this. I'll figure out what to do."
Not waiting for a reply, he rushed out of the room. Henry pushed off the wall facing his door, his eyes narrowed.
"Apparently"—Lelouch forced the panic down and allowed his honest irritation to seep into his voice—"the more time I spend as a general, the more people will think that somehow makes me qualified for the throne."
Henry scowled. "You are qualified."
At the rare jest, Lelouch rolled his eyes. "Let's go."
Austria, E.U.
Alex bit into an apple and admitted to himself that the E.U. wasn't that bad. For months, he had walked amidst the endless stream of refugees heading to the E.U. in search of safety. Now, having finally arrived, he had been put into temporary housing, given far too many vaccinations, and was assigned to a French language class. If he wanted to, there were plenty of vocational courses he could take to establish a trade for himself for when he finally left.
It really was nothing like he had been expecting. For years, he had heard horror stories of poor sanitation, disease outbreaks, and thousands sleeping on the cold ground, exposed to the elements.
One part was true, though. Around the entire camp stood a barbed wire fence. It was a prison, even if far nicer than he expected.
"Alex," one of the staff members shouted. She was a kind, plump woman who was getting up in her years. Despite her age, she never showed a hint of discomfort, even when spending the entire day on her feet. "Alex Berger!"
"Here!" He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and tugged on the new shirt they gave him. "What is it?"
She smiled at him fondly. It was irksome how many people treated him as a pitiful child. "Someone wants to talk to you."
His pulse quickened. Had he been discovered? "Did I do something wrong?"
"Nothing like that. Between you and me, it's just some procedural nonsense."
He offered a relieved smile and looked up hoping it wouldn't be the last time he saw such crystal blue skies.
If they suspected anything, that would be the end of him. First, he would be beaten. Then starved. They would break his arms and legs. He'd spend the rest of his miserable life in a concrete box until they dumped him in an unmarked grave after finally realizing he'd never betray Lelouch.
The woman patted his shoulder gently. "There's no need to be nervous."
"You're too kind," he mumbled, berating himself for letting his emotions slip through his mask like some sort of novice.
He stepped over the threshold and held out his lanyard to the guard at the side. The administrative building was warmer than he expected. The floor was made of cheap tiles, already chipped and worn down by thousands of steps. The walls meanwhile observed him in bright colors as murals and graffiti covered every blank spot as far as the eye could see. Some images were macabre, but many spoke of hope.
"Ah, that," the guard said with a chuckle. "We paint it over every year and fill it up as time goes on. It's almost time to start anew again. You might have a chance to leave your own mark."
"But why?" he asked. What purpose did such frivolous expressions serve? Half of the art commemorated other countries although he spotted a fair few mutilated Britannian flags.
The guard passed him back the lanyard. "Don't know, but it's nice, isn't it? A reminder of what we do here. It's the door at the end of the hall."
Alex nodded curtly and hurried off, unsure why such amateur art was affecting him. It meant nothing. This was pointless sympathies used by the E.U. to hide their weakness. What use was art?
"Alex Berger." The officer inside wore a clean pressed military uniform although he had left his jacket hanging on his chair. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and the sharp sting of alcohol emanated from the glass next to him.
"Yes?" Alex's instincts screamed as he took a seat.. An unnatural calm settled over him. The table lacked the trademark characteristic of most interrogation tables: a spot to secure the prisoner.
"We're just going through some basic information. You're sixteen, right?"
"Yes. Since last March."
Honestly, he could probably pass for someone even younger if he took care to remain clean shaven. He had decided that was too risky, and honestly, he wouldn't have been able to stomach the constant condescension. Old enough to be taken seriously, young enough to be overlooked as a possible spy. That was the goal.
"Where from?" the man asked, looking at his paper.
"South Africa. My grandparents moved there."
"Why did you want to settle in Austria?"
Because Alex was following a pigeon back to its nest. "I knew a kid who said he moved from there. It felt… familiar."
The officer smiled kindly. "It is daunting, especially if you're making a journey like this on your own."
Alex brightened. "It's not like I was alone. Our old neighbors helped a lot. And there was a girl who offered me some candy. And—"
"Not your family?"
Alex tried his best to look despondent. It wasn't like he missed his own family, whoever they were. "My ma died years ago. And my father…"
"Yes, you lost contact during Britannia's establishment of Area Fourteen. It's been a long trip for you, hasn't it?" The officer set down his stack of papers with a satisfying thud. "Not to worry, we're looking for any genetic matches. If your family crosses the border, you will be reunited with them."
"Genetic match?" Alex asked.
"The cheek swab? Didn't they tell you?"
"Since when…"
"It's been a pilot program for a while, but we're finally rolling it out nationally. Unfortunately, that does mean we have a huge backlog of refugees who have already settled down. It's helped so many families reunite. We even record the deceased if possible. It was one of the president's campaign promises."
Genetic testing? That was something for couples and infants.
"And if I'm not healthy?" Alex asked warily. "If I have an illness?"
"Then we'll get you treatment," the officer assured as if he didn't even see a possible problem. "For now, let us focus on the present. The background check cleared. Don't worry about it; it's procedure. Given your age and situation, your application is being expedited, so I'm here to help finish all this exit paperwork."
"Exit paperwork?" That seemed like some torture Lelouch would conceive of.
The officer pushed a single sheet across the table along with a pencil. "If you could please complete that survey, I would much appreciate it."'
"Don't you cross me off a list?" Alex asked.
"I wish, but no. This is for our efficacy metrics. Every temporary settlement is rated on quality of life and long term placements."
Alex read the first question with a raised eyebrow. On a scale of 1-10, rate the following…
"What could be wrong with my bed?" Alex tapped the pencil against the sheet. "This isn't what I expected."
The officer's shoulders drooped. "Those rumors are still going around, aren't they? I swear Britannia is keeping them alive for its own gain. Look, there was a temporary hiccup after Japan fell. Millions suddenly crashed into our border, and we lacked the infrastructure to handle it."
"What's in it for you?" Alex asked.
The man rubbed his brow. "I won't lie. Plenty of people will look down on you. If a national draft were to be called, former refugees are prioritized. But what kind of people could we call ourselves if we treated you worse than Britannia treats its own Numbers? Napoleon united us to make all brothers equal. We want people to be proud to join our glorious nation."
While still skeptical, Alex focused on the survey before him, answering each tedious question. His bed was more than adequate. The food was excessive. Fights were uncommon. Schooling was irritating. His clothes fitted well. Honestly, it was like he was staying at a resort.
"Great." The officer slid the paper into his binder and clapped together his hands. "Now, the only issue remaining is your guardianship."
"My guardianship? I'm sixteen," Alex said warily.
"Which means you're not an adult."
"But I'm sixteen." He knew that the E.U. had weird hangups about age, but surely they could understand he was just fine.
"I am sure that you have become used to fending for yourself, but you're safe now. If your family is found, we'll renegotiate custody—"
"Custody?"
The man didn't even pause. "We've found a wonderful local family who is willing to take you in. Teenagers are always a little harder to place, but they have experience and are quite excited to meet you."
Alex gaped. What about his mission? His spying? He had things to do.
"I know you think it's not necessary and can look after yourself, but you're a child. You need a guardian who can register you for school and sign paperwork on your behalf. That's the legal half, but for your own health, you need adults you can trust and fall back on."
"What kind of bullshit—"
"Here we go again," the officer grumbled. "It's decided. Complain all you want, but you'll be grateful soon enough. How close you become is up to you, but know that they will be supporting you until you're twenty-two. Most likely, they'll be there for the rest of your life. The family signed up for the long haul."
Was this some kind of new torture? Alex couldn't even remember having parents. He had always been on his own until he found Lelouch. And now the E.U. was forcing a family on him?
What gave them that right?
He opened his mouth to protest, to state his vehement objections and snapped it shut. He couldn't jeopardize his mission. If this was the price he had to pay to enter the E.U., so be it.
"Would you like to draw something on the wall?" the officer suddenly asked.
"Fuck, no," Alex spat, barely able to contain his indignation.
Three hours later, Alex was standing outside the fence with the officer at his back. A sleek blue car waited at the curb with a brunette woman, a blond man, and two young girls standing outside it.
They gave him a cheerful smile.
Alex glared, hating them already.
"This is the Duport family," the officer introduced. "And this is Alex. He made his way here on his own."
The woman gasped, holding a hand in front of her mouth. "Oh dear. You poor thing. No wonder you're so skinny."
Murder. That was the only answer.
"I should warn you. He's the type to pull a runner."
"Thank you, officer. You're doing the Lord's work." She smiled down at him. "Let us get you out of the sun. We have a cake at home to celebrate your arrival. And the kids are so excited to meet you."
What the hell was wrong with the E.U.! He told them he was sixteen, not five!
Unfortunately, his cover forced him to docilely follow the woman and squeeze into the middle seat, sandwiched between two young girls with sticky hands and endless questions.
Fuck.
Tokyo Memorial Hospital, Area Eleven
Taizo Kirihara woke. Coldness rushed through his veins and he slowly turned his stiff neck to stare at the glimmering saline bag on his right. A nurse yawned as she fiddled with it.
In the strange daze, he came to an astonishing realization: his knees didn't ache. There was only one explanation. He was dreaming. Or, possibly, dead.
The nurse ushered him to remain lying down as he tried to push himself upright to see where he was. He had things to do. Something important had happened. He needed to—
His chest was wrapped.
"What happened?" Taizo whispered.
The nurse pursed her lips. "You were shot."
"Why?"
"I heard it was a home invasion. You will have to ask the investigators when they come. You are quite lucky that a good samaritan was passing by and called it in."
He nodded. Home invasion? Targeted? Someone had been there. He had served tea. Kusakabe. How?
The man had pulled out a cigarette. He wanted something. What had he said?
"You should be pleased. It has turned your ward from a pawn into a queen."
His head pounded. He had been shot. He had been shot by Kusakabe. Why was it so hard to remember? What did he want with Kaguya?
Slowly, he looked at his bedside table and the mountain of white flowers. It looked like a funeral pyre.
Why was he alive? Kusakabe was enough of an expert to ensure he would never breathe again. A chest wound was salvageable by Britannian medical science.
"How long was I out?"
The nurse smiled. "A day and a half. They had to operate, but the best talent was called upon for you. You will need to be kept under observation for a few more days. No stress. We tried to contact your ward, but since she isn't in the Area, it has been a bit difficult to reach her."
"Pen—" His ward. He had mentioned her. "Why must she know?"
The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Kirihara, family is important after such a traumatic experience. We can hardly let you return home alone. Someone will need to handle your affairs for at least the next month."
His grin felt lopsided as his head lolled back onto the pillow. Kaguya. He had to remember. The cigarette had rested between Kusakabe's fingers. Unlit.
"I see this will be unpleasant. She is a valuable intelligence operative, I admit. Her agents meanwhile are widely dispersed in key aspects of Britannian society. The problem is the harm she will do to our cause."
Taizo had just returned from Pendragon. Kaguya had been dragged there and suffered a poisoning attempt. A poison of Japanese origin. Had it been Kusakabe? He had never liked Kaguya, always thought it improper.
A laugh bubbled in his chest, prodding his sore ribs. Kusakabe couldn't get to her now. The Emperor had swooped in and spirited her away. Somehow, she was safe despite being in his clutches.
So that was Kusakabe's play. Draw her out. Even the Emperor would be pressured to let her return to take care of her guardian after a brush with death. And then what?
Why had Kusakabe taken such a risk? Unless... Unless, he already struck a deal with the Kyoto House. A deal for Kaguya. A deal for his vision of the future of Japan. Taizo had been the last person they needed to convince.
And he had said no. Roared that they would condemn Kaguya to a life of suffering, forced to continue the Japanese Imperial line with a husband of their choosing.
Oh, he might not trust Prince Lelouch to be their ally. Or to not turn into a despotic tyrant like his father. Or to hold Kaguya dear as years turned into decades.
But in one aspect, Prince Lelouch stood staunchly apart from his siblings. He always recognized the individuality of people, their desires, fears, and accomplishments. He would never follow in Clovis's footsteps, pressuring women to pleasure him in bed. He would never be Prince Schneizel who so easily discarded allies, when they no longer served his purpose. He would never be like Princess Cornelia who always resorted to force, never compromising on anything.
If he had to choose his poison—
"Mister," the nurse interrupted with a hint of impatience. "How can we contact your ward?"
"No, no, no," he mumbled. "She can't come. It's not safe."
"I am sure it's possible to arrange security, mister."
He eyed the nurse suddenly. She was far too nice. "Who? Why? Not my doctor."
She frowned severely. "Prince Lelouch ordered you to receive the best care possible."
Then Kusakabe hadn't intended for him to survive? Didn't that make more sense? For him to have died in an apparent home invasion. A shot to the chest. Found dead in the morning. The perpetrator having fled the scene, never to be found. After all, who would care about another Eleven's death? And a funeral was better to draw out his target.
Was it then pure luck that he lived or…
A spy… A spy who reported to Prince Lelouch. That sounded far too apt.
"No, no," Kirihara shook his head. Under no terms could she arrive here. It wasn't safe. He needed someone who could pass a message to Kaguya, someone who wouldn't let another party intercept it, someone who wasn't suspicious to meet… "Stadtfeld… Lady Kallen, I heard she was back in Japan? Could I thank her for her liege's benevolence?" He tried a grin. "Prince Lelouch knows where my ward is."
It's been a long while. Been busy with my last year and finishing the last few things I need to graduate. I wouldn't cheer on updates just yet, but come July, I will finally not have to worry about pesky things such as homework.
I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. It took me a bit of rewriting, partially as working on a massive paper resulted in one of my "everything I write is shit" phases. Rest assured, I've no intention of abandoning this fic. I like it the most out all my fics, even if another fic is irritatingly more popular these days. :p
Thank you Nektry, Gabriel, Lily, Dark, and Jarod for all your hard work with betaing.
As a side note: I happily support spin offs and fanfics of my fanfics or just running with any idea I have. Give me credit to be nice. ;) But, please avoid using the literal text of my works. Also, please don't use AI when basing something off my work.
Chat with me on discord: discord (period) gg /4ePSTdRWTg
