At a high-rise office building in Kyoto…

"Hello and good afternoon," a young Japanese woman said in flawless Britannian.

On the other end of the phone, a switchboard operator asked her purpose in calling the Viceroy's Palace.

"On behalf of the National Area Council," she harmlessly stretched the truth, "wished to directly offer Her Highness the Viceroy my humblest congratulations on her venture today. No, I don't mind if you put me on hold."

The switchboard operator on the end of the call promptly did so, and Kaguya Sumeragi idly began twirling the phone cord around her finger. For all their vast and plentiful faults, she mused, at least these Britannians tend to concern themselves more with my position than my gender.

A few minutes passed, before the operator announced that the Viceroy had a moment to personally take her call and dutifully reminded Kaguya of what an honor it was; of how grateful she ought to be.

"Of course," came her easy, appeasing reply. "I haven't the words to express such deep emotion!"

For eight years I've tried to get in contact with you, cousin. So many letters painstakingly crafted in the scant hours before sleep, even learning the Britannian alphabet for consideration that our people's beautiful calligraphy may have been lost to you… how callous and cruel of you, to make your only blood go through these kinds of hoops just for a conversation!

Of course, Kaguya had no idea that her 'faithful' retainers had repeatedly and consistently destroyed that correspondence and lied to her about it rather than put their liege lady through the dishonor of associating with such a vile traitor as Suzaku Kururugi.

Before too long, a lovely female voice Kaguya recognized from the news came on.

"I was told you're a representative of the National Area Council?"

"Yes! I understand that you must be incredibly busy, and I apologize that none of my colleagues have attempted to reach out to your offices yet."

"You sound… younger than I expected," Euphemia thought aloud. "I suppose that means you must be quite talented or have incredible connections…"

"Oh, I sometimes like to imagine it's a little bit of both. My name carries its share of weight, but I do my best to work hard so it can be leveraged for everyone's benefit… In any case, Your Highness, I wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your stunning event earlier! And if there's anything at all that I or my associates can do to make your objectives easier, I humbly ask that you find us worthy to call upon."

At the very least, we need to reconsider the roles and logistics relating to all our resistance groups… and getting a better read on the new Viceroy is integral in that.

"Hm… I do suppose it could help to have someone with a more direct interest in the Elevens' welfare assisting with outreach coordination," Euphemia admitted.

If not for being on the phone, Kaguya might have laughed at the Britannian Princess toying with the idea of offering her access to a new stream of resources that could not only fund the resistance, but allow her to dilute her peers' influence and start nudging the JLF into a more progressive stance.

Such a short-sighted girl you've chosen to give your attention to, cousin. But then, perhaps I should expect no different from a stubborn boy who threw his lot in with the enemy.

As it was, Kaguya set aside her bitterness for a moment and focused on the opportunity in front of her as a smile blossomed on her face…

"You wouldn't object to overseeing a project with one-hundred percent public transparency, would you? Given the rampant embezzlement and corruption that went on under my predecessor, I'm afraid that if so much as a fraction of a pound sterling were found to have gone somewhere it shouldn't, I couldn't afford to give those responsible special treatment for any reason…"

…only to privately laugh at herself for thinking too far ahead at once as she quickly reevaluated her opinion of the Viceroy. So she's aware that giving instrumental roles in carrying out her agenda to other Japanese could be a tremendous image benefit with the rest, Kaguya thought, but also that having to punish one for misconduct in that position would be met with tumult and outrage no matter how justified.

Not only that, but raising an objection to working with such utter transparency would present quite the red flag. Perhaps even enough to prompt a more thorough investigation into the NAC's dealings at large, risking the complete exposure of Kyoto House and its financial backing of not simply the JLF, but many other Japanese Resistance groups as well.

Princess Euphemia really is more dangerous than she looks!

If anything, Kaguya's smile grew even more genuine. Oh my, is this what it's like to finally meet a kindred spirit? If only fate hadn't seen fit to put us in such unfortunate circumstances…

"Yes," she replied with real sympathy, "I can understand that your image must be quite more precarious than it may appear in public; elevating too many of us to such relevance so quickly may do more harm than good with respect to advancing your agenda… oh no," Kaguya gasped with such perfectly-acted mortification that it would fool even her elder statesmen. "I've completely overstepped! Your Highness, I offer my sincerest and humblest apologies for my rudeness!"

"I forgive you."

So quickly and so easily came the words that Kaguya very nearly protested them in surprise.

"If anything," Euphemia continued, "it's a relief to know that there are others among you with a genuine interest in helping me bring our peoples together than just Sir Kururugi."

The words cut into Kaguya like a knife, and the Sumeragi heiress couldn't decide if Euphemia's assessment of her was genuine naivete… or if she'd been seen through and this was the Viceroy's subtle way of putting her in her place for being so presumptuous.

Kaguya wasn't sure which of those interpretations she preferred, either.

"...he and I are cousins," she murmured, genuinely knocked off of her game for a moment. "Although we haven't been able to contact each other in many years. Notwithstanding his feats in public of late, I… I'd like to know how he's doing these days."

For a long moment, Euphemia didn't answer. And when she finally did, it was the first time she audibly spoke with her guard up. "...I would have thought with your influence and resources, you shouldn't have had any difficulty in arranging to meet with him at any time."

"There were… family circumstances eight years ago that made it difficult to stay in touch," Kaguya didn't explain. "And after he joined the military under your brother's administration, I was concerned that being too overt or frequent in seeking contact might have caused him some unwarranted trouble while the Purebloods were still in control."

A convenient excuse, though from the tone of Euphemia's sigh it may have been accepted.

"...the next time he and I meet," she promised, "I'll pass along your concern. Anything beyond that is his decision to make, not mine."

"You have my gratitude, Viceroy. He's the only family I have left."

Camelot remote testing facility, classified location…

Inside an impromptu hangar and testing space, the Lancelot stepped out of its docking platform, stripped of its armor and sporting a pair of experimental power connectors on its forearms. "Prototype Maser Vibration Sword test under controlled conditions, iteration 001," the pilot announced over its external loudspeaker. "I can commence when ready."

"I'm so glad you could finally make some time in your busy schedule to do your actual job," Lloyd groused from the mobile trailer's observation terminal.

Cecile, seated at a workstation next to him and monitoring the Lancelot's energy flow, raised a placating hand to ease his agitation. "Sir, there's no need to be like that–"

The aggrieved Earl wasn't having it, though. "I've been waiting the better part of a week to start this," he continued, "and there's constantly been one interruption and delay after another! I'm sick and tired of it! Why, I'm so irritated that–"

Taking the idle moment to resolve some curiosity, Elle briefly pulled up Camelot's research account… and let out a whistle. "Hey, the Viceroy's first deposit just cleared."

"–that it's an honor and a pleasure to rent out our Devicer whenever Her Highness wishes!"

While Elle and Cecile merely let their employer's dramatics wash over them like water off a duck's back, Suzaku was caught more flat-footed in the cockpit. "Wait, am… am I being pimped out?"

"Yes," Lloyd answered without hesitation, "and I see no reason for you to complain. Now chop-chop, Kururugi, there's much to do and science waits for no one!"

The ladies shared a moment of silent commiseration at Suzaku's exasperated groan, before the Lancelot strode across the hangar and picked up a set of connective bracers. "Roger. Attaching auxiliary power conduits for MVS."

Suiting words to action, the Lancelot clapped one bracer onto a power port midway between its elbow and wrist, before doing the same with its other arm. Each piece of equipment had a heavy electrical cable extending out from it, which could be extended or retracted with use of an in-built winch.

"We've already proven the auxiliary bracer cables as a technology," Cecile explained for Suzaku's benefit. "While Lancelot itself ultimately shouldn't need them due to experimental power transfer contact circuits built into its arms and hands, the MVS is the first piece of equipment that's come to a stage that can be used for testing them."

"And because the MVS itself is a prototype," Suzaku radioed back as the Lancelot attached the other end of the left-arm cable into a receptor on one of several blades, "we're using the auxiliary cables today so there's one less variable in the testing, right?"

In one of his comm windows, Elle shot the pilot a thumbs-up and a grin. "You got it!"

Faintly pleased by Suzaku's small attempt to more actively engage with the endeavor, Lloyd took a short moment to adjust his glasses. "Quite so. For now, we'll begin basic testing of its structural integrity and weight distribution. Lock the Lancelot's hand actuators around the grip so there's no risk of the sword slipping, and take a few practice swings with it. Gingerly at first, and then slowly work your way up to combat maneuvers by degrees. The weapon's internal capacitor will accumulate energy for its initial startup while you're doing that."

As Suzaku put the 7th-Generation Knightmare through its paces, Elle put her connection on mute so she could directly address her peers. "He might seem okay right now, but we really need to get him a therapist."

Lloyd kept his attention on the vast array of sensors collecting test data, sparing the matter only as much attention as he could get away with. "Not on the table, I'm afraid. His Highness pays us to research and develop arms technology, not fringe medicine."

"Our test pilot is seriously ill," the redhead growled with forced patience. "If he had a broken leg, you wouldn't tell him to walk on it! You'd get him appropriate medical care so he could recover and resume his duties faster! This is basically the same thing!"

"Imperial policy recognizes physical injuries as necessitating such treatment," Lloyd replied, his tone mild. "And it recognizes mental injuries as a sign of liability. If Kururugi's situation is really as dire as you say, then requesting treatment will serve more to draw negative attention than anything else. The Prime Minister would be more inclined to replace him rather than spend political capital protecting him… and let me assure you, that's a poor outcome for everyone involved."

Unaware of the incoming video call automatically forcing its way through, Elle stood up in a furor. "So you're saying we can't handle basic devicer maintenance because some pretty boy on the other side of the planet doesn't want any smudges on his precious image?!"

"Your frustration is understandable," said an amused voice that sent chills down Ell's spine from behind her. "And your conviction, commendable."

Elle turned back to her terminal, saw a smiling and devilishly handsome blonde man on their external comms screen, and let out a shriek as Cecile stood at attention and Lloyd raised an eyebrow. "Speak of the devil, as the saying goes."

I'm not sorry I said it, but I'll probably be in even more trouble if I try lying to his face!

"...begging your pardon," a furiously embarrassed Elle forced herself to say clearly and calmly. "That… that won't happen again."

The Prime Minister's pleasant smile didn't shift a micron. "Come now, there's no need for such a negative reaction. All of you, be at ease."

"Does that mean you're going to greenlight our giving Suzaku professional help, Highness? If it's a budget integrity problem or whatever, I'm happy to pay out of my own pocket–"

"It means you're permitted to stabilize him until circumstances at the top markedly change in your favor," Schneizel said with finality, eyes closed. "I sympathize with your plight, but for now I suggest you bear in mind that precious few of my brothers and sisters would be so accommodating were they in my position."

Rather than keep arguing and risk reprisal, Elle bit the inside of her cheek to keep the frown off her face. "Of course, Your Highness."

On the monitor, Schneizel flicked his attention over to Lloyd. "I had hoped to briefly get my own assessment of the young man himself while I have a free moment. Not seeing him among you, am I to presume he's on an errand of some kind?"

While Cecile still held herself at parade rest, Lloyd had leaned against a wall and peeled open a cup of pudding, happily digging in without regard for the unexpected guest. "Our new devicer is assisting with our initial structural tests for the prototype Maser Vibration Sword, which have unfortunately been delayed by all the Viceroy's local political nonsense you might or might not have heard about. I could abort the test… but with how erratic the situation can be from one day to the next? Alas!, there's no certainty of how reliably it can be rescheduled, and I trust you're aware of the hassle involved with untested technology bugging out in the field."

"Ha! I know you better than to believe you would ever permit something on the field if you were less than entirely confident in it, tested or not; all the same, I'll leave you to resume your work. I expect a working test model within a week, and for the next weapon to be prepared in a month… and Miss Lubie, I saw your proposal for a Luminous Factsphere Screen and have approved it. Once developed and proven for mass-production, it could be of considerable aid to peacekeeping forces in Area Eighteen and in Northern Africa. Well done."

With that, Schneizel ended the video call and disappeared from the monitor.

"...he's still listening, isn't he?"

"Not personally," Cecile assured her… only to wince in sympathy a moment later. "But while there's a nightly sweep for unwanted surveillance equipment, he does have access to all of our communication records and occasionally makes surprise calls like that."

Lloyd grinned, clapping his youngest assistant on the shoulder. "Pish-posh! The man cares more about efficient results than he does anything else; my employment should be proof enough of that."

"...you being supportive is even weirder than your normal state," Elle said with a shudder.

Lloyd's smile grew just a little wider as light ominously reflected across his glasses. "Then might I suggest we get back to the business at hand?"

Back in the testing area, the Lancelot had gone from simple swings to deftly moving through basic swordsmanship forms at near-combat speed, making use of almost the entire available floor space.

"We're getting excellent data on our end," Cecile radioed in. "Is there any personal input you can give us, Suzaku?"

The Lancelot visibly missed a step and nearly crashed into a wall, its pilot apparently having been quite surprised by the abrupt check-in. "Sorry about that!"

"Is everything alright?!"

Suzaku took a deep, shuddering breath. Even in the Knightmare, just holding a sword in my hand took me back so thoroughly…

In the pilot's peripheral vision, Kyoshiro Tohdoh's phantom raised a shinai in challenge, as if mocking his lapse in focus.

You could have defied Kirihara and taken me with you eight years ago, or even just arranged for someone to collect me on your behalf… I wouldn't have given a damn what side of the conflict I died on back then…! But no, you didn't have enough room in your lost cause of a battle to give one single damn about me!

One took over at that moment and gave the phantom a venomous glare, until eventually it faded and the pair had once again returned fully to the present. Even if our current situation means Tohdoh abandoning you was probably one of the best things that ever happened to you, Suzaku… I'm not gonna forgive him either on the principle of the thing. One of these days, we're gonna bump into him – and when we do, I promise you we're at least gonna get some catharsis out of it.

Mindful that the rest of the Camelot crew were expecting a response, he said aloud, "I… unexpectedly got caught up in a memory from holding a sword again. My lack of discipline in doing so was inexcusable, and I'll do my damnedest to ensure it's the last time something like this happens."

Elle and Cecile shared a concerned look, both wondering if the former's earlier concern about Suzaku's mental health had been so prescient as to border on a jinx.

In the end, it was Lloyd that chose to figuratively step up first. "No harm, no foul, as the saying goes. Now pick yourself up; dare I presume that since you were comfortable enough to get distracted, you have no complaints with that sword's design or construction thus far?"

"Well," Onezaku said with an anxious grin, "it hasn't exactly flown apart in my hand yet… but to be honest, I've still been trying to be careful with it."

A moment later, he added, "...in spite of what you all just witnessed."

Everyone shared a chuckle as the tension broke, before settling back into their roles for the day's business.

"Your consideration is quite appreciated," Lloyd snarked. "What you're holding now is a cheap prototype model that only needs to be stable enough to function for testing purposes; in the event of an accident, we have a handful of them that can be easily changed out."

Cecile nodded, giving Suzaku a reassuring smile. "That's right; the live combat test type and final production versions will be constructed with far more durable materials, the kind meant for rigorous wear and tear."

"Sensors are showing that the sword's capacitor should be good and ready now," Elle added with a smile and a wink. "So let's flip that switch and see what happens!"

The Lancelot activated a toggle switch on the handle of the prototype MVS in its hand as instructed, and within seconds the blade began to heat up and oscillate at high speeds, eventually taking on a faint red tinge.

"You know," Onezaku muttered, "in hindsight it feels like the basic premise for this technology might have been more efficiently tested with a knife or dagger instead of an entire sword."

"We already proved the concept at human scale," Cecile patiently explained. "The test model was upgraded for active use and awarded to General Cornelia some time ago."

In the cockpit, Onezaku made a clear double take at that information. Wait, what the actual fuck? "Awarded? You mean, like, she got it as a prize?"

Plopping down into a chair and then going for a spin in it, Lloyd didn't fight the nostalgic smile that grew on his face. "Yes, some years ago we sponsored a little tournament as a fundraiser. The Prime Minister hadn't given us quite so much leeway in terms of budget at the time, so we auctioned off tournament spots to the nobility and royalty, with the human-scale test model sword as the spoils of ultimate victory."

Elle unscrewed the cap on a water bottle, drinking in her former caretaker's story while she was at it. "That was all before I came in… back then, wasn't it you and–"

"Anyway," Lloyd brightly cut in as if she hadn't spoken up at all. "It's all ancient history from which there's precious little left to be learned! And dare I say the opposite of what we're all here getting paid for, hmm?"

Rolling his chair up next to Cecile, Lloyd input a remote access code that activated a crane in the testing space, which dragged away a heavy tarp that had been covering several crude blocks of varying materials that had been deposited just inside the hangar doors. "As mentioned earlier," he continued, "it's no great hardship to replace that prototype blade if you break it… but we aren't exactly swimming in them, either, you know. As far as testing its cutting ability, for now I just want you to get on a knee and press the edge of the blade into those blocks in accordance with those force and pressure tables that Mariel should be actively sending to your battle data monitor."

Onezaku blinked as a notification popped up in the window that he remembered had been reserved at Shinjuku for map and tactical data, before passing control back to the main driver. Tapping the menu prompts on the screen as they came up, Suzaku gave an affirming nod. "Roger that, I have the data."

"Splendid! If you need motivation, pretend it's like chopping carrots on one of those cooking shows or something."

Hours passed as data collection continued, until the sun began to set…

Ashford University, that night…

Being an elite university catered to nobility, the on-campus Ashford dormitories were all but indistinct from an apartment complex. Each residence had its own bathroom and limited cooking space, although the ground floor had some much larger and better-equipped communal spaces as well.

"I have to admit," Suzaku said as he stepped out of a hot shower and into the half-lit bedroom, freshly clean and decent in a shirt and slacks, "it's been a pretty alright day." I wouldn't mind if just about every day could be like it.

We spent the day helping build weapons, Suzaku. We both know they're gonna get used sooner than later.

I can dream, though, can't I?

Suzaku passes control to me, and my first act in the driver's seat is to flop gracelessly on the bed with no fucks given whatsoever. "...well, I guess I can't argue with that."

Nothing else is said for a few minutes, and nothing else really needs to be said.

…at least, not until an unfamiliar ringtone pierces the room's silent atmosphere.

Doot-doot-do-doot!

"That's not our phone… did some student accidentally forget their cell before we came in?"

Listening close to figure out where exactly it's coming from, after a couple of seconds I look under my pillow and find a boring little white smartphone that damn sure isn't ours.

See who's calling, Suzaku tells me from the back side of our mind. If nothing else, we can find out whose phone it is and arrange for its return.

As I pick it up and check the caller ID, I get a kind of sinking feeling in my gut.

It doesn't give a name, or a number. All it says is ANSWER THE PHONE.

With a nervous swallow, I hit the accept call button. "New number, may I ask who's calling?"

A female voice answers, cold and tense. "That's the second time you were called, and I have little patience for lack of promptness."

Fuck. "...well, whoever planted this thing buried it under the pillow – and I was in the shower anyway, so it's not like I could've heard it anyway. As I clearly didn't. Because if I'd heard it the first time I would have answered it. Because I'm not some kind of self-absorbed prick that makes other people wait for no other reason than to show off how important they are, and I try to respect that not every lack of immediate response is some kind of conspiracy or blatant sign of disrespect."

A moment passes, and Suzaku metaphorically slaps me upside the back of the head to drive home that I was probably expected to give a profuse and submissive apology instead of an explanation or an appeal to reason.

"What I mean to say," he hurriedly spits out in my place, "is that my inability to maintain a state of consistent readiness is both shamefully unprofessional and completely inexcusable. I give you and your organization my deepest apologies, and am prepared to accept whatever consequences are deemed fit."

The mysterious but doubtless highly-influential and powerful woman lets out a thoughtful hum. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was speaking with two different people."

"...I don't think you're the first person to tell me that," Suzaku awkwardly replies.

"I see… most people in your position would have had the sense to lead with the apology first, instead of trying to talk their way out of it."

Eventually, I realize that the extended following silence is a prompt for us to say something, and aw hell now I need to pull an excuse out of thin air. "My girlfriend told me the other day that I need to work harder at standing up for myself! …and I might have been too eager about the chance to practice… and may have inadvertently gotten way out of line in the course of doing that… but now, well…"

The woman on the other end of the line huffs in what I would hope is amusement, as Suzaku exasperatedly facepalms in a way he definitely picked up from me.

"Well, I can't fault the desire for self-improvement. To business, then; the phone you've been given is a secure line that can't be traced or hacked with current technology. It connects directly to me and me alone, and when in use the phone also creates a high-intensity localized scrambling field that will neutralize any potential listening devices nearby. Just in case you aren't decent yet," she teases, "I'm switching the call to video in ten seconds."

I might have gotten embarrassed about the dig at our having been in the shower a few minutes ago, but… honestly I'm more surprised by the important thing at the end, even if she's probably wearing a mask. "Not like I think I can stop you or really care to try, but it seems pretty unnecessary on your part."

"Some conversations are better had when face-to-face, as it were… and to fulfill our common objectives will require a certain amount of trust."

Hopping back into our bathroom and closing its door for that much extra little privacy, we sit and wait for the next few seconds to pass, until –

"If you haven't figured it out yet," the blue-eyed blonde introduces herself, "I am Monica Kruchevsky, the Knight of Twelve."

Oh no, she's hot…!

You say that about almost every woman we meet!

It's not my fault we live in a CLAMP world! And I never said it about Viletta or Kallen!

…that's not really as great of a defense as you think it is.

Monica, thankfully, seems quite unaware of our little internal back-and-forth. "I have to admit that your email was an amusing surprise; better yet, I was impressed with your little audition at Babel Tower today. But having said that, not everyone at my level of the Imperial hierarchy looks upon it so favorably."

"We knew from the start that founding Celestial Being would create powerful enemies and draw their hostility," Suzaku replies.

Not content to leave it there, I step up and explain, "But to be honest, such people were always going to be obstacles to reforming humanity; we would've had to deal with them sooner or later anyway."

Monica's eyes widen slightly as she repeats something under her breath, before almost immediately shaking it off. "Then I'll get straight to the point. One of my peers, the Knight of Ten, is preparing to make for Area Eleven as we speak and will arrive in the span of a week. Although he's known to the public at large as a valiant war hero, Luciano Bradley is in truth–"

"A raging asshole? A sick freak? A twisted heap of sadistic impulses in the vague shape of a human? A vile and despicable monster whose each and every living breath is an uncleanable smear against the very word 'Knight'? Whose continued existence through each passing moment can be called a crime against all mankind for which any punishment known to civilization is too merciful? A wretched and disgusting creature unfit to be called vermin, on the basis of such being an unfair insult to vermin?"

The realization that Monica's watching me with a cheerful smile on her face, chin propped on her hands, abruptly cuts through the stream-of-consciousness sarcasm I've been using to try and force down the overwhelming panic over what she's saying is in store for us.

"Shit, no way in hell should I have interrupted you–"

Of all the possible responses I could have expected, sniggering damn sure wasn't on the list. Even if she immediately throws a hand over her mouth to try and disguise it as a more proper, ladylike kind of laugh. "Oh, I love the way you say it all so matter-of-factly! Rest assured, I'm in no hurry to be rid of a man who can get me to laugh…"

Monica's grin widens, as her expression shifts towards the kind I'm more used to seeing from Euphemia. "My dear Warrant Officer."

…this is my fault, isn't it?

Yes, goddammit, but at least you have the awareness to recognize it this time.

"Jokes aside," Monica continues, quickly straightening back up and turning deadly serious. "Luciano Bradley is heading for Area Eleven with nothing less in mind than to murder you, specifically. Officially, his mission is only to assess the Lancelot's performance as a Knightmare and your capability as a pilot with a duel. But once you and he are standing opposite each other, he will take the chance to pick you apart and kill you, writing it off as a tragic accident. Sir Waldstein will likely 'apologize' to Princess Euphemia and to Camelot for your untimely demise by more than reimbursing whatever repair costs are necessary for the machine and by recommending some potential replacement pilots… but given our Empire's ongoing state of conflict around the world, unfortunately a Knight of the Round will be seen as too critical to the war effort for any consequences more severe than a fine."

Suzaku swallows, in something of a daze as he tries to process the full extent of what Monica has to say… but for me, it's as easy to imagine as a television screenplay. When Suzaku proves not to have an answer handy, I pick one out and feed it to him. "I hope you're not telling me that just so I can get my affairs in order…"

Monica's gaze hardens, her mouth setting in a hard line. "On the contrary. When that duel happens, I want you to kill the Knight of Ten yourself and put him out of the Empire's misery. While his experience and talent are more than worthy of his position, currently all of us are using customized Gloucesters. If Earl Asplund's Lancelot is truly as advanced as it appears, and if you're sufficiently familiar with it, you might just stand a chance of victory in spite of your inexperience."

On the one hand, I've got some hazy memories of the second season to back up Monica's testimony that Bradley's a bastard with no real right to life.

…but on the other hand, Suzaku didn't plan on being told to un-alive a living breathing person, and his traumatic flashbacks to the instants before and after his father's death aren't making anything easy right now.

Monica seems to notice the way our body tensed and froze up when Suzaku was in the driver's seat, but I try to cover for it by leaning back against our bathroom's tile wall. "That's… um… fuck, kind of a heavy thing to drop on a guy. Even if I'm, indeed, very much not in a hurry to get ganked."

"I'm not without some sympathy for your position," Monica says with a sigh. "And I'm also not blind to the possibility that you could report my actions in warning you as treason against a fellow Round, so let me give you… something else to consider."

On the screen, Monica leans forward at her desk just far enough that my brain makes a dive for the gutter before retrieving a stamp from elsewhere on her desk and showing it off. "If you prove able to slay the Knight of Ten in a one-on-one contest, I can lobby for you to be made a Knight of the Round in your own right. With the resources and influence such a position would grant you, I hope you're imaginative enough to grasp how much easier your and Princess Euphemia's attempts to reform Area Eleven would be."

…

…what the hell do we even say to that?

After she's gone so far out on a limb for us, we obviously say we're on her side you stupid idiot!

Fortunately, a knock at the front door gets our attention and saves us from having to actually articulate a direct response.

"Suzaku, are you there?"

Oh damn it Euphie, this is not what I'd call the best timing in the world…!

Suzaku's still not entirely in a stable state, so I shove him a bit more thoroughly into the backseat and take further control of our situation. "You've got my attention and cooperation, but Princess Euphemia's at the door and it's gonna be hella sus if I'm not there in a hurry."

Monica nods, and is even considerate enough to just close the call without wasting any time on goodbyes.

"Be there in a sec!"

Getting up off the bathroom floor and making for our main space, I go ahead and open the door – and am greeted with a smiling Euphie. "I thought it would be nice to spend a little time together in a more casual setting for once," she brightly explains… and stylish though they may be, the far simpler clothes she's wearing definitely reinforce that she's got no intention of dealing with business, position, or responsibility right now.

…which means I need to play host for my lovely guest. With no prep. Damn, talk about awkward… "I don't have much in the way of snacks or drinks or anything right now, but you're welcome to come in."

"Thank you!"

Skirt swishing behind her, Euphie steps past me into the de-facto apartment, unabashedly looking around. "I realized when I got to the door that I probably should have let you know ahead of time that I wanted to visit," she says with some small amount of embarrassment, "but to be completely honest… I wanted to surprise you."

Spinning around to face me, the Princess puts on a full-blast smile that burns right through my usual distaste for the unexpected. "Surprise!"

"Hah… well, you definitely surprised me." That's for damn sure.

I… I think I might be able to come back out now.

Good, because you need this more than I do.

Euphie plops her cute butt on the bed, before patting a space next to it. Suzaku cautiously approaches for a seat, only for Euphie to drag us down until we're staring up from her lap.

A gentle hand runs through our hair before I can get stupid over my first lap pillow, and I swear Euphie deliberately angled for the ceiling light to be just behind her head and give her a halo effect from my perspective. "Among other things," she softly says, "I wanted to thank you for supporting me. My position might make this hard to believe, but I've never had someone work so hard to help me succeed as you have, even in just these few days I've known you."

For a long moment, Suzaku struggles not to say outright what we've both been conditioned to think. That it's the least we can do, that it's no big deal, that anyone with a heart would've done the same and then some. But we recall one instance after another of people telling us not to apologize… he stops, reconsiders, and instead utters one of the most difficult sentences he's had to in years.

"You're welcome. It's a relief just to know I'm useful to you."

"I'm glad to see that you can accept gratitude, Suzaku. And I want to support you too, even if I may have to rely on others to do it for me sometimes– wait, are you… are you crying?"

It'd be so easy to try and deny the tears welling up. "It's because you're so kind to me," Suzaku explains. "Thank you… Euphie."

"You're welcome, Suzaku."

For what must be five or ten minutes, a mostly comfortable silence reigns as Euphie absently strokes Suzaku's hair.

…but it can't last forever. "I received an unusual phone call today. Does the name Kaguya Sumeragi mean anything to you?"

Suzaku stiffens, looking away from Euphie's concerned gaze. A thick cloud of resentment bubbles up in our heart, before a bitter chuckle seeps out of his mouth. "The first time in eight years she makes even a token effort of reaching out to me, and it's not until after I suddenly have influential connections?"

Euphie almost jumps beneath us at the snarl of contempt that follows. "That little snake can rot for all I care."

"Suzaku, she sounded genuinely worried about you… when I asked about the estrangement between you two, she said she hadn't put more effort in the past because she was concerned that too much attention from the National Area Council might have made the Purebloods more suspicious of you."

As Suzaku rolls onto our side and buries his face in Euphie's stomach, she asks, "If you care so much now, then didn't you try to reach out at any point? I don't think she would have turned you away…"

"For the first couple of years after the surrender, I sent letters every few months… all with no response at all. A year or two ago, I even tried calling her office after she was officially given a seat on the National Area Council – only to be told by her secretaries that Councilwoman Sumeragi," he sneered, "didn't have the time or interest to speak with a lowly Britannian dog."

Euphemia didn't answer at first, watching Suzaku tremble with emotion while she considered what she'd been told.

"I hate her," Suzaku quietly admitted. "Her, and Tohdoh, and Kirihara, and all the rest…! Every single one of them I knew who'd ever said or acted they cared about me disappeared right when I needed them most!"

Before Euphemia could respond, the muted howl of sirens from outside surprised them both.

"What the…?"

"It's those rebels who were captured at Shinjuku," Euphemia sadly explained. "They were both found guilty earlier at their trial, and are now being paraded through the city en route to the execution ground. It's not what I wanted to happen, but… Margrave Gottwald was right that other rebels need to be discouraged from targeting me. And I don't know how else to go about it…"

As the roaring motorcade passes by, Euphie lets out a sniffle – and an instant later, Suzaku's holding the crying girl in his arms.

No. In our arms.

"It isn't right," Euphie sobs into our chest. "Even though they helped murder a Prince – my brother – he was using his power to treat the Elevens so horribly! How can I hate someone for defending themselves?!"

"...I don't think it's self-defense when you deliberately use the very people you're supposed to be fighting for as human shields."

That old Vietnam movie Platoon comes to mind for some reason; the one with the tagline: The first casualty of war is innocence.

It's a hell of a gut-puncher, to be sure, but. The more I think about the situation we're in – not just the here and now, but the big picture as I understand it – the more I'm convinced that that line is just a little bit off.

"The first casualty of war… is justice."

"Come again?"

Hugging Euphie close and rubbing her back, I take a second to better figure out what it is I'm trying to say. "It's… just a mess all around. Humans being inhuman to each other without restraint or remorse, because of circumstances most of them didn't ask for and can't do much to control. Maybe there are no heroes–"

"You are a hero, Suzaku. Even if you don't feel like one, and even if tonight you aren't thinking like one. When push comes to shove, I know you'll do the right thing… even if it may not be your preference."

In the seconds that Suzaku and I spend working out who's going to tell her how full of shit she is, she steps back and pulls us down for a kiss.

"If it's truly so hard to have faith in yourself," she murmurs, "then can you at least have faith in me?"

"...I do."

I'm not sure if I said that, or if Suzaku did. Hell, maybe even we both did.

Euphemia spends a good few seconds gazing into our eyes, looking for something. Eventually, though, she seems to find something worth smiling about. "If you're so certain that justice is dead," she begins, "then help me bring it new life."

…something tells me this is gonna end up being a colossal pain in the ass.

You're probably right – but you're not going to deliberately disappoint her, are you?

Not in a million years.

"Alright," we sigh. "What do you have in mind?"

Euphemia's smile is blinding enough to effectively say I told you so without giving voice to it. "As another part of our overall reforms, I want to devise a repatriation and social rehabilitation process for Japanese who've been taking part in rebellion against Clovis's reign, but would now or in the future be willing to lay down their weapons and choose to coexist peacefully."

The Princess puts a finger on our lips before my objections are even halfway formed. "I'm fully aware that it's a delicate issue," she continues. "There are obvious security risks involved, and a great many potential vulnerabilities will need to be shored up and accounted for… to say nothing of the politics. Margrave Gottwald and I will be able to devise the mechanics for how to make this policy a reality, in time; all I'm asking from you on the matter is that you try to be patient and assist as needed."

Just because Euphemia's willing to forgive some of them doesn't mean you have to.

After a few seconds, Suzaku nods. "I can do that much. I won't withdraw my support… Euphie."

She smiles, and pulls us in for another kiss – only for her phone to immediately start ringing at the same instant that Elle's voice calls out from the hallway.

"Come watch the news, something big's going on!"

…no. Don't tell me–!

Running down to a common room on the floor below, Euphemia follows close behind. "Someone's blocked off the parade route with Clovis's personal transport," she worriedly explains.

Clovis's personal…?! Oh come the fuck on!

Stepping into the common room, our eyes scan for and lock on to the news broadcast.

"Who is this mysterious masked individual that claims to know the identity of the late Viceroy's killer, and for what purpose are they interfering with the prison convoy?! Could they be a rebel mastermind?!"

Standing there atop the ostentatious white car, amidst the fading embers of a burning Britannian flag and staring down dozens of Sutherlands with absolute confidence as the wheel of fate makes another turn, is a cloaked man in a mask in the image of a King piece.