Writing the talking heads in this one was a trip, remember all slurs and likewise small minded bigotry is from the mouths of the characters.

Anywho depending on responses we'll get another one of these soon, this is NOT a sympathy dig since I'd rather you all to talk about the chapter, my dad had an infected toe removed and at his age needs live in help so yeah, what I'm doing. Time around computers, yadda yadda.

Right, enjoy!

Last second edit in-OH RIGHT! Added a lot to the previous chapter, so give it a reread
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Today had been an off day for Marianne, which honestly went without saying any day she had to deal with her brother in law. The little hobgoblin was being more circumspect about her inquiries regarding the Sword of Akasha as of late for some inane unstated reason, and when further pressed he would just blow the subject off as trivial and beneath his notice before hanging up.

Which was, to be blunt, both as juvenile as it was expected.

V.V. had both Lelouch's stubbornness and intellect but none of the boys potential built-in bloody excuses to behave like a petulant child; which by the way, no child of hers would ever do, thank you very much.

It was with these sour thoughts that her favorite guard had noticed her frustration, and had politely asked if she would like to be escorted to her private study to relax, which Marianne most certainly would.

Thus they walked down the corridors in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the shuffling of her skirts and the click of her guard's boots. Eventually reaching the office door Taylor stepped forward and opened the door quickly sweeping the room, seeing it clear she entered it to check the ensuite washroom while Marianne picked up the remote and clicked it at the wall monitor.

The television flickered on and a moment later an interview in progress was displayed on the screen; a pretty young Asian-Britannian woman in a fitted red blouse nodding slowly as a grandfatherly looking African-Britannian man in a tweed suit spoke to her with a sweeping gesture matched with an energetic aire.

"The situation in Japan is untenable Beth, no one is budging diplomatically, while economically production and manufacture is down due to rising sakuradite prices further muddying things. None of which is helped by our own firm tariffs instilled by the Crown, all with the intent of forcing Prime Minister Genbu Kururugi back to the negotiation table."

The host adjusted her notecards slightly while nodding slowly, "Well then Lewis, it would seem then that unless Japan, who is purportedly backed by the European Union, and the Chinese Federation behind closed doors, agrees to be reasonable, then we are still no further than we were last week to reaching a resolution to the trade conflict?"

Adjusting his glasses the old man sighed, "That it would seem my dear. Let us hope that cooler heads will prevail, and god willing those Japs understand what it is they are doing by needlessly provoking Imperial interests."

"God willing professor, god willing."

The television flickered off as Taylor let out an amused scoff while muttering, "Everyone has a spin on that quagmire. Everyone is the victim except for the actual victim, exploiting the chaos to their greatest advantage, all while trying to keep a veneer of civility and calm."

Marianne laughed, "Civility is in the eye of the beholder my dear. Why by EU social standards and practices we Britannians are self indulgent hedonists, why the very thought!"

Taylor sniffed in disdain, "Marianne, Britannians are self indulgent hedonists, I just choose not to judge."

Really girl, you're going to play that card?

Heh, very well. Her reaction to this would be adorable.

"Oh? I'm sorry, maybe I'll ask about that thing between you, Nel, and Gil during Christmas vacation? The thing at the cabin? The thing that only two other people in the world would know anything about, both of whom will tell me anything I would possibly ask without pause? The thing your mum, dad, and siblings, even your darling twin, have not an inkling about? It is always the quiet ones, isn't it."

Taylor froze as her eyes widened, she took in a deep breath, then her eyes closed, her breath released with a curse under her breath, then she sighed and spoke as if nothing had been said.

"What I was getting at is, this is chaos that could be resolved if everyone would actually take a step back, work together to find a feasible resolution, and leave bruised egos behind them. The problem is I live in the real world and chaos is…"

Taylor worried her lip and tilted her head to the side as her eyes took on that brief, distinctive, momentary unsettlingly wide off stare they got every time she saw something interesting, before returning all her focus to Marianne.

"All right, a petty narcissistic little man once said, "Chaos is a ladder," which is obviously meant as a metaphor for exploiting a fleeting opportunity for future gains. It is an interesting, if anarchistic outlook on life that has the amusing caveat of also being deeply capitalistic and thusly oligarchic."

This. This right here was why Ser Taylor was a breath of fresh air in her life in this stale villa filled with potential enemies and endless monotony. The woman was given leave to speak her mind as she saw things when she saw fit, and did so with the calm polite dictation of a teacher who enjoyed her job. Ask her any question, and she would give you a thorough well thought out answer if she had it, or point you to someone who did if she did not, all with an earnest smile on her pretty face.

Was it any wonder Lelouch was smitten with the young woman? Like father like son after all.

Regardless, it was beyond pleasant spending time with an educated, vibrant, and motivated, young noblewoman that would not either simper up like a two-faced leach, or talk down to you like you were a barbarian beneath them because your parents weren't related.

No, she talked like a well educated soldier who had no real desire to alter her vocabulary for people who didn't understand her, because if that were the case she probably didn't want to talk to you anyway.

Being around her was, in a word, nice. Almost safe really.

As such Marianne felt no reason not to further tease the younger woman, so why not do so? Reaching over she let her knuckle brush Taylor's cheek as her finger swept around a curl of her blue hair while smiling coyly.

"Oh my, someone has something to say about economic power disparity?"

The young guard shrugged minutely, all while doing her very best to not acknowledge her obvious blush with her gaze held forward, absolutely adorable.

"Not really, Marianne. I just think it's funny as hell when the people that yammer on about their personal freedoms do everything in their power to become the one in power, and in turn have to thwart the next idiot yammering on about their personal freedoms. That's where the ladder takes you." Smiling wistfully, Taylor surprised the Empress by leaning her cheek lightly into her hand as she continued speaking.

"No, chaos isn't a ladder, a ladder indicates that there are only two directions available, up and down, forwards or retreat. Chaos is a headache inducing dichotomous oxymoron with random blips of normalcy mixed in to give you the proof that long term stability is possible in your lifetime.

"Which, you know, might happen, after all, chaos is not the natural order of things. There is an ongoing continuous reach for equilibrium in life, a healthy homeostasis where we can all maintain the status quo, with elements of chaos sprinkled in. Chaos, chaos fucks that up, no one likes chaos who actually understand what follows, which begs the question Marianne, why exactly is your husband upsetting the applecart for shits and giggles?"

Marianne let out a delighted laugh, "Oh Taylor, I so adore that paranoid analytical mind of yours. I think it's time I introduce you to said husband, he'll find you refreshingly well informed and direct."

The guard's response was a surprise; taking a step back, she broke from Marianne's grasp as she squared her shoulders, eyeing the Empress warily, a few moments later she finally replied.

"Am I allowed to argue my point to the Emperor that reworking our entire military infrastructure around giant fighting robots is a gross waste of resources and strategic assets?"

There was a determined, nearly mad, glint in her eyes as she asked this.

Marianne's following laughter only got louder and more gleeful when Taylor interrupted her with, "That isn't an answer, Mari."