"It's time you met your grandfather."

It was an ominous statement, certainly intentionally so. They had been discussing the attempted disowning of Sairaorg and his father decided to say that? The implication was more than clear.

The term 'grandfather' wasn't truly accurate. Zekram Bael, the true Great King of devil society was not even close to being merely Lelouch's grandfather. The man's age easily reached multiple millennia. Among the old guard he was considered an elder, debatably even the oldest living devil. Even that equivocation of 'debatably' was only due to the fervent belief in some circles that Lilith, Mother of Devils, might still be alive. No, Zekram wasn't his grandfather, but stating their full relation would take long enough that he was instead called grandfather or elder by all Baels as a matter of convenience.

"Are you excited to meet your grandfather, Lelouch?" Sara asked him, once again finding a way to invite herself along, the glow Lelouch could see in her eyes making him feel guilt every time he looked at her. Initially Lelouch was to only be accompanied by his father's Queen and one of his Rooks. Instead, once again, Sara managed to take that spot instead. At this point he imagined it was even easy, simply citing how used to her presence Lelouch must be from all of the other excursions on which she had joined him.

Lelouch had to admit, it was probably even true. He did feel more comfortable knowing she was compelled to keep him safe. And the fewer of his father's pieces he had to deal with, the better. "I wouldn't so much describe it as 'excited'," he answered, "Meeting him will likely answer many of my questions though, and I'm definitely eager for that."

His mother's Rook giggled. "If you weren't so small I'd never believe you were only ten."

The Bael progenitor's home was not too far from Bael Castle, still within their capital but on the quieter outskirts among other retired Bael heads. Most served as the head for at absolute most a millennium or so, long enough to sire an heir and guide them in ruling the territory before living out their days in comfort. A thousand years was of course not that long to a devil's lifespan but it wouldn't do to lord over the territory for thousands upon thousands of years. Better to let younger, more ambitious devils take the reins and see what they could manage. Some of the old heads were still around should the new head require counsel, or if they were to suddenly be rendered unable to rule.

Not a common problem for the Bael. It had happened only twice. Once during the Great War, and to Lelouch's actual grandfather on Herodotus' side during the Civil War. A temporary victory for the Old Satan Faction for which they paid dearly. More Bael heads had died during the Great War but only after they had officially retired from the title, seeking a glorious end in battle.

All of the retired Baels' homes were opulent by devil standards, each of a size enough to call a castle on its own. Though none attempted to eclipse the size and splendour of Bael Castle. Doing such a thing would leave a poor impression of what that particular retiree thought of their descendant. Even Zekram's residence while it stood proud and alone, set apart from the other former heads' homes, it wasn't overly grand. Though it was undeniably beautiful, almost with the look of an old European cathedral like Notre Dame or Burgos. It even had stained glass windows to complete the look. He saw one that appeared to depict scenes of Lady Godiva. An odd choice for a devil's home to have such a figure so venerated by the church.

An opinion he retracted once he looked down from Godiva's nude form looking resplendent and noble riding naked through the streets. And to where the window seemed to show an 'alternate' ending to the tale almost like a comic strip. Ending in Godiva getting bucked off and then buggered and bred by her horse.

Well. That was something he could no longer unsee.

Not all of the displays were like that, though it was certainly more than a few. For all that they were depicting carnal acts the likes of which he had never seen, he couldn't fault the artistry. In particular, a statue of an angel getting sexually abused by several men showed immaculate detail, right down to the beads of sweat from her exertions, droplets of ejaculate being sprayed over her face suspended in the air by magic.

Were these the kind of predations Lelouch would find appealing as a devil? Or were they just examples of Zekram's personal tastes? It seemed the latter given how ordinary Lelouch's own home was by comparison. There were risqué statues of barely clothed men and women of course. That was par for the course in terms of artwork, but there was nothing of this level. Then again, considering who Lelouch's father was, he would have no interest in turning his seat of power into this kind of spectacle. While for Zekram appearances didn't matter so much since this was solely his private residence. You didn't come to see Zekram, he came to see you.

With the exception of family, of course.

"Young master, we have arrived," Rudolf announced unnecessarily as he pulled the car up the driveway of the main entrance. Waiting outside were a handful of servants ready to attend. All of them, men and women, dressed in leotards decorated with fluffy tails and rabbit ears, reminding him of one of Milly's more... controversial costume party ideas.

Far too many girls tried pulling his tail for his liking. And the leotard didn't half ride up his privates.

Despite the circumstances, Lelouch tried to maintain an air of decorum as he exited the vehicle through the door Sara opened for him.

"Young master Lelouch," one of the servants, an austere woman of dark hair stepped forward to greet him, "May I welcome you to the humble abode of Master Zekram Bael." Despite her clothing she somehow managed to maintain a regal bearing as she bowed low, displaying masses of cleavage. "The master awaits you in the foyer, your family's servants shall await your return in the guest house."

"What?" Sara asked, affronted at the very idea of leaving him alone, even as Rudolf tried to restrain her from making a scene. "You can't expect us to leave him unattended after his parents charged us with his care!"

Zekram's servant levelled a frigid glare at the Rook. "Only dedicated servants of Master Zekram and those of Bael blood are permitted within his home. While here, the young master is under the protection of Master Zekram and we, his servants." The glare seemed to heighten in intensity, perhaps even chilling the air in the vicinity in a very literal sense. "Would you insult us so to insinuate that the Master or we would be unfit in our duty of care to the heir to his house?"

"It's fine," Lelouch cut in, stepping between the two women before the situation could devolve further, looking over his shoulder at Sara as he faced the furious servant. "It's fine," he repeated for the Rook's benefit before looking back at the stern woman. "She's just a little protective of me. Can you truly fault someone for taking their duty so seriously?"

The woman's eyes moved from Lelouch's earnest expression to Sara, before sniffing derisively in a way exclusive to nobility. "I suppose not. Though it remains, they will stay in the guest house. Edmund shall lead you there." Another of the bunny-person servants at the end of the line bowed low before striding forward to lead the Rook and Queen away.

"If I may, young master," the servant beckoned, "Master Zekram is waiting."

With practiced noble bearing, Lelouch walked towards and past the woman to enter first. Based on the actions of the servant, Lelouch expected the master to be a man who expected such things. Decorum perhaps not, but overt power plays and positioning absolutely.

The inside of Zekram's home was once again not a palace of splendour but instead a home designed with comfort and relaxation in mind. Palatial, but peaceful. No gaudy accoutrements, instead decorated with soft, warm colours, fine furniture and a welcoming atmosphere. The most striking thing Lelouch noticed were the photographs and paintings. He worried on seeing them that they would be as vulgar as the statuary outside but instead they were akin to family photographs. Zekram himself with what must be his many descendants, some at a young age, others grown adults. It felt almost like an actual grandfather's home.

"There he is." Between the twin curved staircases leading to the upper floor Zekram sat enjoying tea and a... Foot massage? The servant attending him carefully scooted away as he spoke, the Bael progenitor putting on some comfortable dark-red slippers that matched his casual indoor-wear. "Well?" he asked expectantly as he stood. "Come here, let me get a good look at my newest descendant."

Newest descendant. A good indication that Herodotus' implication had been true if the man so easily forgot or dismissed Lelouch was an older sibling.

The old devil clapped his descendant on the shoulders as he approached. "Hm! Strong shoulders! Not what one would expect from a boy with a mind as sharp as your father claims you to have."

"My brother's doing," Lelouch answered, realising a hair too late the trap that had been set. Omitting Sairaorg had been a deliberate attempt to goad him, followed by an opportunity to defend him that Lelouch immediately jumped on.

The smirk on Zekram's face all but confirmed it as did his words. "I've heard that as well. Come, I'd like to get to know my multiple times great grandson."

Zekram made every effort to do exactly that as he led Lelouch to a drawing room, elder and heir taking seats in high-backed lounge chairs softer than silk. After a short while the one affronted servant appeared once again with a platter of delicate pastries, as well as a carafe of coffee and a chilled bottle of wine. "Coffee," Lelouch noted as the maid begins pouring him a cup, then uncorked the wine to pour Zekram a glass.

"Brewed to your preference," Zekram nodded, not bothered at all by admitting he already knew enough of Lelouch to be certain of such, "Mary here is well trained in all facets of the culinary arts."

As he took a sip, Lelouch admitted the old man wasn't wrong. He had long gotten used to drinking cheap coffee to get by but if he ever wanted something that lived up to his standards he would usually have to brew it himself, though Sayoko could come close. "Wine this early in the day?"

"I'm retired. I'm permitted to let myself go," the old man joked as he raised his glass in toast before taking a sip. Both of them knew full well he was the furthest thing from retired. "Ahh, the Astaroth. A good choice, Mary," he praised, setting down his glass. "Lelouch, I will warn you of this now, you had best avoid partaking of anything produced in our territory early. Whenever you visit any other house they will ply you with whatever Bael-produced food or drink they can get their hands on. Somehow they always think I'll be impressed by a Bael vintage from 1400CE as though I haven't been drinking the stuff since before 1400BCE."

Moments like this were odd. Through most of the conversation Zekram seemed eminently affable, a pleasant conversationalist. Though he always had this air about him, like he was already three or four steps ahead of the conversation and just waiting for Lelouch to catch up. But then there were moments like this where he would set all the verbal dance aside and rant like a cantankerous old man. Which... Made sense in its own strange way. Zekram Bael was a man who had seen and done everything so it was impossible to deny he would have an advantage in thinking several steps ahead by sheer experience. But then by that same token, he had seen and done everything, and as such was probably terribly bored by it all.

Aptly demonstrated when Lelouch brought up his fondness for chess. "Of course you're fond of chess. Ever since the new Beelzebub showed off his invention with that motif arbitrarily attached to it that game is all anyone seems to care about. Mary, fetch my board for me would you please, dear." The servant quietly slipped out of the room, presumably to do just that.

"I wouldn't demand a match of you if you have such a dim view of the game," Lelouch offered to smooth the unexpectedly ruffled feathers. "There is nothing less satisfying than an unwilling opponent."

"No, pardon my rudeness," the old man apologised, seemingly waving away his dour thoughts, "I'm merely impatient with the trends of today. Please don't even mention that bizarre thing the new Leviathan is doing nowadays."

Mary reappeared with an ornate chessboard, dutifully setting up the pieces for a game with Lelouch playing black, once again quietly acknowledging how much of the entire conversation was theatre.

"I find myself ambivalent about the theme also," Zekram mused as he moved one of his centre pawns disinterestedly. "The original game, chaturanga, that had a much more appropriate theme for how the evil piece system is constructed. Instead of a queen, a general. Instead of a rook, an elephant, heavy cavalry. Instead of a knight, a horse or light cavalry."

"In a purely practical sense I can see your point," Lelouch acknowledged, making his own move.

"Yes, but then we come to the matters beyond the practical, and I admit this is where the aesthetic shines. It appeals so much more to the conceits of we devils." With a finger, Zekram tapped the top of two particular pieces. "Knights. Bishops. Those traditionally charged with upholding holy vows, those at least intended to uphold their virtues and abstain from sinful acts." The old man chuckled wryly to himself. "Why, it practically taunts us into using our pieces to convert such pious men and women."

Lelouch's eyebrows raised. "You believe the evil piece system was designed to encourage us to corrupt the holy?"

"Perhaps not seriously, though it is an amusing theory. Ajuka is a famously intelligent devil, I wouldn't discount the possibility that such a thing was his intent. Though the results speak for themselves. In those early days, so many sought their peerage members in convents and knightly orders. Though not I," Zekram smiled, the most devilish expression he had expressed thus far as he ran a finger around the crown of his queen. "My interests were for those of higher station. There is nothing more satisfying than usurping those who claim the divine right to rule."

The implication was not lost on Lelouch. Lelouch who had been a member of the Britannian, the pseudo-British, royal family. Who had therefore studied the past rulers of both Britannia, the British Isles and of England.

His eyes sought out the servant, Mary. Her stiff and formal attitude only stiffened further as he looked at her, her eyes staring vacantly forward, deliberately not meeting his gaze.

Mary.

Mary I. Mary Tudor. Bloody Mary. Zekram Bael had reincarnated one of the most famously, militantly devout monarchs in the history of the British Isles... And he had her serving coffee in a bunny suit. The sheer absurdity of it defied any kind of rational expression! That this man, no, this devil could so carelessly and classlessly hold dominion over figures of such towering reputation–!

"Lelouch."

The calm statement of his name brought Lelouch's wide eyes back to his elder.

"It's your move."

His eyes flicked down to the board, game still barely started. A corner of his mind conjured the most appropriate next move as easily as recalling his times tables, allowing the rest of it to come to terms with the new reality presented. Once again a new puzzle piece fell into place, the greater picture of his new life becoming ever clearer. He had been looking at everything all wrong. Treating his second life like he was once again Lelouch vi Britannia, or even Lelouch Lamperouge, or some combination of the two. When in truth? He was neither. He wasn't a charismatic, lazy genius schoolboy. He wasn't an exiled prince with a tragic past. He wasn't a pampered royal. Superficial similarities there might have been but in truth all of those roles predicated on him being human.

No. In this life he wasn't Lelouch. He was CC. He had been reborn as a being a level above the squabbles of humanity. The devils' view of humans was that only a select few were considered worthy of being pieces. The rest? Well, they were merely the board. A pleasant backdrop for whatever game the higher powers might want to play.

To the devils of this world, all his ambitions, his plots, his dreams of a better world. They would have been nothing more than a source of amusement at the least, a reason to make him a pawn at most. If even that. What was Mary? He could sense the power of the evil piece inside her indicating she was already taken. He couldn't see a royal with no combat skills of note as having a high value. But then looking at the still smirking demon on the other side of the board he could easily imagine Zekram giving her the Queen piece as a mockery of her former title. If he had this kind of power and influence why would he care to be careful with–!

The Bael heir took a steadying breath. His entirely warranted alarm was letting his imagination run wild. Zekram Bael was certainly more than he bargained for, but that was no excuse to assume him careless. The evil pieces were even by Zekram's own admission a seismic shift in devil culture and politics. He didn't get where he was by using resources so frivolously as Lelouch had been imagining. A little anxiousness was no excuse for such reckless flights of fancy. He must treat the opponent as even more dangerous than he already appeared, else see himself defeated.

Such a revelation. Merely from the man disclosing his fetish.

The game continued apace as Lelouch brought himself firmly back under control, losing himself in counter-moves and strategems for a few moments. Only for Zekram to break the silence, letting out an impressed sounding hum. "Have you ever played against your father?"

"Once," Lelouch answered absently, studying the suspiciously early movement of one of the white rooks.

"You won." It wasn't a question, by tone or by not giving the heir chance to answer before continuing. "I'm sure you noticed. Herodotus plays rather like he acts in his day to day life. He does the research, studies best practices, the standard gambits and strategies. Orthodox, one might say. He was always diligent for such things, a stickler for the rules. It makes him an able administrator for our house. If he only had a touch more creativity to know when to abandon such things, to think outside the box. Does he discuss your future with you? His plans?"

"Only in the broadest sense. If he has concrete aims he has yet to inform me of them. Though I have my suspicions." Lelouch paused for a moment, before adding, "The House of Phenex certainly play a role. He made sure to remind me multiple times to be particularly cordial with them, though that perhaps didn't go as he intended."

The old man laughed derisively. "A role," he echoed, though didn't elaborate on why or what was so worthy of scorn. "He intends to arrange a marriage between our house and theirs. Phoenix tears are a resource exclusive to their house and are thus coveted by the rest of our society. The current generation have been blessed with children, three boys and a girl."

"Thus their daughter is to be sold to us in exchange for the prestige and access of marrying into the Bael," Lelouch finished, nodding along as though he had heard such things a thousand times. Which he had. "A standard arrangement."

"As expected of Herodotus," Zekram agreed. He seemed to revel in taking shots at the current Bael head. "But what if I were to tell you the Phenex seek further arrangements? Say, if they were to seek a marriage between one of their spares and the House of Sitri? Or Gremory?"

The gears in Lelouch's brain whirred before clicking into place. "Are they?" he asked with sudden alarm. If that was the case, if the Phenex landed both marriages they would have firm connections to both the Great King faction and the New Satan faction. They would in a single generation rise from a merely well respected and wealthy house to one of the foremost houses among the pillars!

"And now you see the truth," Zekram nodded with satisfaction, perhaps a little pride. "They do not intend to play a role in our plans, Lelouch. We are instead a part of theirs, while your father remains blissfully unaware, believing he is merely doing the done thing, making a simple exchange. Knowing this, if you were in his shoes, what would you do?"

"Not gleefully hand them that much influence," the boy grumbled, disappointed that his father would not see the greater implications. Though... His eyes returned to the curious gaze of his elder, wondering if Herodotus simply didn't have the information Zekram had. The old man had said Herodotus learned standard strategy. A lesser house trying to become a middle-ground between two greater houses was not exactly the most complex of machinations. It was hard to believe his father wouldn't be able to see it happening.

"... Sairaorg," he said finally, moving his rook forward and nodding to himself. "I would offer them Sairaorg."

The old man sputtered at the suggestion, "Pardon?"

"They wish to have their daughter marry into our house, she may marry the one Lord Phenex found cause to denigrate at my debut," Lelouch stated firmly. "It would appear as me being spiteful for the insult, but at the same time it would reinforce my words to him that day, that I will not stand for insults to any member of my house. They could accept and not get such a great boost of prestige by being forced to marry the 'lesser' sibling, or they could refuse and get nothing, openly alienate the Bael and risk alienating our allies. It would also demonstrate that even if I were to marry their daughter it would be of limited benefit to them in the near term due to my open disdain."

Zekram said nothing, merely watching his descendant go on with a smile on his face.

"Whether they accepted the new terms or not, they would no longer secure the position of bridge between the factions they coveted. Not only that, it may lead to tensions between the Phenex and Shax increasing as Lord Shax was the instigator of the conflict, something that would weaken both houses."

"It may make an enemy of the Phenex," Zekram noted, critiquing the plan. "And should they secure a marriage with the daughter of the Sitri? Or the Gremory?"

"Serafall Leviathan threatened me with murder if I ever go near her sister. I would wish them luck in managing to get around her. And the Gremory are already tied to us via Aunt Venelana. Father may have made that connection as tenuous as possible but it is still there. At best such a marriage would render the Gremory a neutral party."

"You would sacrifice your own brother like that?"

There it was. "If you had met Sairaorg, you would know how silly that statement is." It didn't matter who the girl was, Sairaorg would end up walking all over her. But... They had finally started circling the subject Lelouch most wanted to discuss. The question he most wanted to ask.

Though... With all that he had learned today, it wasn't even a question anymore, was it? "The order to exile him. It came from you."

The Bael progenitor sighed, sinking wearily into his chair. "It always fascinates me the change that can come over people following the pivotal moments of their life. For Herodotus it was so subtle I didn't even notice it, but he was different after he had you. Was it he who suggested using one of your pieces?"

"No." Not in so many words.

"Oh?" A greying eyebrow quirked in surprise. "A shame. It might have been the first truly impressive thing he ever did. It seems even as a father he still lacks the spine to outright defy me."

"Why?" Lelouch asked the true question he needed an answer to. "Why did you need him gone?"

"Gone?" the Great King echoed. "Gone was tangential. The true purpose was for our world to see that we do not consider him a true Bael. You may call him brother, your father may call him son, but he is not a Bael. He can be whatever else he wants but that." He leaned forward to capture a rook with his knight. "Check. Him being your servant doesn't solve the root of the problem. It isn't ideal, but it is an acceptable measure. Why did you do it?"

'Because he's my brother,' Lelouch knew was his true answer. Though likely an unacceptable one for Zekram. "A true King doesn't sacrifice a piece without cause." A bishop crossed two spaces to take the knight threatening his king.

"And if that piece has no worth? If there is cause?" Zekram pressed. The suspicious rook crossed half the board, putting Lelouch's king right back in check.

The black king moved aside under the protection of his lone rook. "You think you can judge his worth without having met him? That is why you invited me here, isn't it, to get a measure of me? Or are you as straightforward as father, thinking only the power of destruction has worth?"

The old man's hands clasped together, elbows resting on the armrests of his chair. A deep, contemplative breath passed in and out of his nose. "What you're saying isn't without merit. Most former heads stepped back to let younger generations flourish. I did so to direct our society. Prior to the civil war I had very little to do, your grandfather was the most promising head in many centuries. And then he led our forces against the Old Satan faction, felled in that pointless, pointless war. Your father was a poor replacement, no one knows it better than he. More and more he sought my counsel until I was near-effectively head again. Perhaps I got overzealous." His pose broke for only an instant to move one of his pieces. A mere repositioning until he added, "Mate in seven."

Scanning the board, Lelouch saw it to be true. There was perhaps no shame in losing to an opponent who had been playing for centuries, since the game's invention even. Once again he was reminded even with almost two decades added to his current age, he was still a mayfly to the true powers of this society. Graciously, he toppled his king to acknowledge his defeat.

"I noticed you led with your king. It was an odd choice."

"If a king doesn't lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow?"

Zekram's eyes bored into the heir's, frowning, almost as though challenging his answer. A moment later it ceased, the old man muttering, "Still just a child," before rising to his feet. Lelouch followed his lead. "I believe you wanted an instructor in magic. I have a gift for you."