Entirely dedicated to Jusrecht. You are not alone! Us two... against all the other Code Geass pairings, I guess. (Sags) Never mind.

Can be taken as SchneizelxSuzaku... or not. Your choice, really.

It was raining.

How strange, earlier that day it had been sunny. And now, Schneizel could imagine his brother's coffin rotting under the ground. Eventually the heat and the moist summer would eat away at his brother's face and body, until there was nothing but well-spun silk and bones. Schneizel did not push away the unpleasant image and instead welcomed it, willing away honey-tinted memories.

Schneizel closed his book and set it down next to him on the bench. The rain pattered on the extended roof above him, dripping down to the cement only a few inches away from his feet. They bounced of the leaves and rolled down branches, thousands of invisible creatures that were nothing but footsteps and water. How unfitting- they should have come at the funeral. He could have, at least, pretended that the rain was mingling with his tears.

Or, perhaps, he wanted the rain to hide them?

Schneizel, lost in thought, nevertheless did not fail to sense someone entering the hedge-walled garden, through one of the ivy-tangled gates. The footsteps suggested someone of light build, someone who could have easily concealed their footsteps- easy, in this rain- but had not. Schneizel decided not to go for his gun, but didn't turn his head to see who it was, either. If worst came to worst and it was one of his secretaries, he could pretend to be sleeping. No one dared to wake Schneizel when he was sleeping.

There was a stifled gasp.

"Your Highness?"

The voice was male. Tenor. Earnest, with a tinge of accent, a slight vowel at the end of the second word. Schneizel placed it as Japanese. And the only Eleven residing in the palace at the moment was Lelouch's Knight- former Knight, that was, the prince remind himself- Kururugi Suzaku.

How... inconvenient, that he had walked in just as Schneizel had been trying to decide what to do with him- as well as a number of other problems his brother had left him. Kururugi didn't have a chance, now.

"Kururugi Suzaku, am I correct?" Schneizel turned a blinding smile on the boy. He doubted that he had missed the shark-like quality in it. "My brother Lelouch's former Knight."

Schneizel noted, in the corner of his mind, that it wasn't quite right to do this to the boy- but then again, Kururugi was the one who had been unable to prevent his brother from dying in the battle with Zero. Three siblings, now, lost to Area Eleven. And Kururugi... he'd been close every single time.

"Yes, your Highness.." Kururugi Suzaku. There was something in his voice that the prince wasn't too keen on exploring. Schneizel remembered that Suzaku hadn't cried, either, at the funeral. His eyes had blazed hard and green, but he hadn't cried.

"Come sit down." Schneizel said, still smiling. He saw something like wariness in the young Eleven's eyes. "Do you like poetry?" He picked up the book again, invitingly.

He saw Kururugi swallow nervously as he approached him and sat- not quite obviously at the end of the bench, but near enough. His hands unclenched on his thighs and fisted again, nervously, before they relaxed. Schneizel kept his eyes on the book, and after a few seconds of flipping, found the page he'd been at before he'd set it down. "Ah, here we are." he said, satisfied. "Are you familiar with Stanislaus, Kururugi?"

"No, your Highness."

"That's a tad too formal, don't you think? Why don't you call me Schneizel?"

He saw a flicker of fear in the Knight's green eyes. "That wouldn't be appropriate. Your Highness."

"Well, then, may I call you Suzaku?"

There it was, deer-in-headlights. "If Your Highness wishes to."

The prince gave him a warm, delighted smile, and knew that he wasn't fooled in the least. "The verse doesn't rhyme- it's translated, but I often think that there's still an odd beauty to it." he said. "Listen."

"Now she, traitorous, beautiful worm

With tongue and eyes of silver

Gave the prince his crown of gold and laurel

Kissed and anointed him the king."

He paused, here, looking at Kururugi Suzaku. "This is the story of Ourouër. Well, part of it, at any rate. He came back to his family after setting out on a conquest in time to see his brother getting married."

Kururugi was silent. Schneizel continued, cruelly.

"Laughing, she quoth-

"'There are some born to love

and some born to be loved.'

And that is us, my king."

And the prince-king clasped her close."

"At the beginning," Schneizel explained, casting a glance at the unspeaking Eleven, "people are skeptical. The woman was a foreigner, you see. The writer was Hibernian, and Hibernia was not very welcoming to outsiders. Gradually- the story is not mentioned here- the people come to accept her. She was a charming woman, you see. The king thrived."

Kururugi's head dipped, his eyes downcast. Schneizel gazed at the budding magnolias before continuing.

"And she, traitorous, beautiful woman-

Said naught of loving, and was loved.

Until the king she'd made love had spent it all."

Schneizel stopped, again, not because he had something to explain that was missing, but because of the torn scrap of paper that obscured the next few lines. His fingers brushed over it, but he didn't remove it. Lelouch's usually neat handwriting sprawled over the paper, apparently hurriedly written only a few moments before his death. Schneizel refused to call it his brother's will. Wills were supposed to be neat. Stamped, sealed, signed...

He realized that Kururugi was giving him a sidelong glance. Almost irritated with himself, he moved the paper down and read the next part, almost too quickly.

"The king, on his deathbed of velvet

Smiled and whispered and died

And all wept but the serpent-woman,

Whose silver eyes were dry.

"He loved-" she proclaimed- "And I was loved."

And she was silent, from death to funeral to mourning

None could read her silver thoughts."

Kururugi raised his head. He did not look at Schneizel, something he was almost disappointed about, but as the prince covertly searched his face, he saw something else on his face other than the unreadable look he'd had on at the funeral and straight up to now. Schneizel felt something he vaguely recognized as an emotion he'd been better acquainted with when he was younger- when he had shaved Clovis's eyebrows after Clovis had ruined his favorite toy rapier, perhaps. Ah, yes, the word was vindictiveness. He was almost surprised to find that it was still an enjoyable emotion.

Although he didn't read for a few minutes after that, Kururugi did not prompt him. Schneizel would have been surprised if he had. He watched him, and Kururugi watched the ground- or perhaps he gazed at the flowers, the prince could not tell, as his hair obscured his eyes.

A few more minutes passed, before he heard a low, faint plea.

"May I take leave, your Highness?"

"You may, Suzaku." Schneizel said, and watched the Eleven stumble away from him and stride toward a random gate, not even bothering to stay to the sides where he would be protected from the rain. Schneizel watched him go, satisfied and almost feeling better. He looked toward his book again, but the verse, once again, was interrupted by his brother's note.

-A succinct 'Get KS on KoR'

And, below, a dashed 'PLEASE, Sch'

There was more, but Schneizel stopped there.

His eyes strayed toward the spot where Kururugi had been presumably watching. To his surprise, there were darker spots on the cement, where the rain could not have reached.

Schneizel cocked his head, and smiled faintly. It was a different smile, this time.

He closed his book and stood up, and went to request a meeting with the Emperor- and the Knight of One.

"Now she, traitorous, beautiful worm
With tongue and eyes of silver
Gave the prince his crown of gold and laurel
Kissed and anointed him the king."
"Laughing, she quoth-
"'There are some born to love
and some born to be loved.'
And that is us, my king."
And the prince-king clasped her close."
"And she, traitorous, beautiful woman-
Said naught of loving, and was loved.
Until the king she'd made love had spent it all."
"The king, on his deathbed of velvet
Smiled and whispered and died
And all wept but the serpent-woman,
Whose silver eyes were dry.
"He loved-" she proclaimed- "And I was loved."
And she was silent, from death to funeral to mourning
None could read her silver thoughts."
The king's brother Ourouër
With eyes of steel and hair of gold
And courage in his heart and vengeance on his lips
Announced the widow-queen to be a witch
And purged the palace with flame.
-Excerpt from the song of Ourouër , by Stanislaus of Hibernia, purely fictional-