"Welcome back, Young Master."

Jeremiah nodded a greeting to the head butler of the estate. "Hello, Gil. How have you been?"

The grey-haired servant smiled, his eyes crinkling. "I am well, my lord. And you?"

"As well as can be," he answered. He eyed the rows of servants—maids and butlers—bowing on either side of them. It was a formal greeting to the heir of the house, and it did little to warm his heart. Though it was his ancestral home, the place where had had grown up, he could not help the heaviness he felt on each visit.

"Forgive my presumptuousness," the butler began, falling into step with his young lord. "But we've heard much about your exploits."

Jeremiah chuckled lightly. "I wouldn't say that they are my exploits, Gilbert." His expression turned curious. "What have you heard?"

"Many things, my lord. There have been rumour aplenty regarding your rise in status. Is it true that you are the personal knight of his royal highness, Prince Lelouch?"

"I am." It wasn't a secret that he accompanied Lelouch in that role. Though the young prince did not bother with an official ceremony, and Jeremiah would not dare ask for such a thing. He was content in his position as a loyal aide.

Gilbert nodded. "The young prince has chosen well. I am glad for you, Young Master."

"Thanks, Gil." Jeremiah had always liked his family's head butler. He had always been patient with him and his sister, never overbearing or too allowing. Gilbert had done his best for them, and his tutelage had been a welcome change compared to his own father's.

They came to the entrance of the manor, where two guards opened the large doors for them. Inside was an extravagant entryway that could have matched in status to any of the royal manors in Pendragon. It was the home of a margrave afterall.

"Has my father received any notable visitors since I last visited?" he asked as he stopped before the stairway.

The butler hesitated, dark-blue eyes shifted away from him.

"Gil," Jeremiah stated firmly.

"Two, Young Master. Lord Alexander Ross and... her highness, Guinevere de Britannia."

"Princess Guinevere?" His brows furrowed in thought. "What was the nature of her visit?"

Gilbert shook his head. "I was not privy to such information. Your father cleared the manor for her visit."

"I see..." Jeremiah knew his prince would want to know about this visit. The duke, Alexander Ross, was one of the known leaders of the Purist Faction, and his visit was not a surprise in the slightest. The First Princess however, was not affiliated with any faction, and would definitely not have a reason to personally visit their estate. Margrave or not, he knew that his father did not have such a lofty personal connection to Guinevere.

"Another thing, my lord. Your sister is currently home, I take it that you have heard of her... circumstances?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately, I have. Thanks, Gilbert."

Jeremiah made his way up the elaborate stairs, lost in thought along the way. It had been a year and a month since he had last set foot in his home, and he was already feeling the familiar dread that he had come to associate with most of his visits. He had not always felt this way about his home. In his childhood he had loved it here, and so did his sister. But the death of his mother at a young age had snuffed the light from this place, and it had only gotten worse with his father's behaviour.

His father was a proud man. When he was young, he had even worshipped the man, and longed to be like him; a leader of true nobility. That was before he had learned how his father had truly amassed their family's fortune and power. Before he learned that his father cared more for their status than his own family.

Arriving at the doors at the end of the hall, he knocked twice before entering the office.

"Jeremiah." The tone was as stern as the seated figure it belonged to. Klement Gottwald shared the same short, teal-coloured hair and uniquely orange eyes as his son, but that was where most physical similarities ended. He had a leaner face, and a naturally harsh expression judging by the frown lines. He was shorter too, and leaning on the thin side in terms of weight. Overall, Jeremiah's own build was stocky in comparison.

"Father," Jeremiah greeted with a short bow.

"So polite." The older Gottwald sent him a piercing look filled with disdain. "After all this time, finally showing your face again?"

"You know why I came here." He was equally as unhappy as his father. The disdain went both ways at this point.

"I do. And I don't know why you bother with that failure, especially after the disgrace that she has brought upon our house."

Jeremiah's expression turned angry at his father's tone. "Don't call her that."

"What? Failure? Or disgrace?" Klement sneered, slamming a hand on his desk. "Because she is both! At the very least you are not a failure... not yet."

"You..." he spat out, on the verge of a curse, but managed to reign in his anger. "And you wonder why we turned out the way we did."

Klement scoffed. "I know exactly why, child. If I had only pushed you harder in your youth—both of you—none of you would have turned out so soft." He gave his son a look of contempt. "As my father did for me, and his father before him, we would have made you strong."

"Enough, I didn't come here for this." Jeremiah made to leave, wanting to be out of his father's presence immediately before they came to blows.

"You've become a dog, Jeremiah." His father's words stopped him in his tracks. "A successful dog, but a dog nonetheless. When will this foolishness of yours end? Come back into the fold, there are still those willing to look past your transgressions."

"You mean our transgressions, Father." Jeremiah sent him a cold look. "I hope you have been keeping to your word."

Klement sneered. "I always keep to my words, boy. You have made the status quo clear enough." He sighed and sunk back into his seat. "To think... forced back into a corner by my own son... perhaps your sister isn't nearly as disgraceful as you."

"I will hold you to that. Good day, Father."

"Jeremiah. I do hope you cease this madness one day. That boy prince will never be his mother's equal, throwing our house behind him will lead us to ruin."

He paid his father's parting words no mind as he left the office. There was only one truth to that statement, and it was that the prince would not be the same as Empress Marianne.

No, Jeremiah thought to himself. Prince Lelouch will be greater.

Shaking his head and forcing his own anger and frustration down, he quickly made his way towards the residential wing of the estate. It wouldn't do to be angry when he met with his sister. He doubted that she would be in the best of moods in any case.

He saw which room she had taken immediately, judging by the cart of food left completely untouched just outside of the opened door. There were no servants around, likely having been dismissed. Peeking his head into the bedroom, his suspicions were confirmed when he spotted the figure of his younger sister staring out over the balcony railings.

"Lilicia," he said slowly, not meaning to startle her, but managing it all the same.

"B-brother!" The younger woman held a hand to her chest as she turned to stare at the intruder. "Must you always scare me?"

"Sorry," he said unapologetically, moving into the room and taking a seat by the small table nearest to the balconies. "Just got back from talking to father, you know how he is."

"I see." Lilicia did, in fact, know how talks with their father usually went. "Was it about me?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "No worries, little sister, he was much more concerned about disparaging me than you."

Lilicia remained silent, fiddling with the edge of her sundress. Her long blonde locks were held back in a single ponytail, giving her a sophisticated look. She was a beauty even compared to ladies of the High Court, despite having no makeup on. But she looked rather out of place despite herself. Her light-orange eyes were looking down at the edges of her feet, avoiding the curious eyes of her brother.

"Lilicia..." Jeremiah sighed, gesturing for her to take a seat opposite him. "Tell me what happened," he asked as she slid into the seat.

His sister nodded slowly, bringing her hands together on the glass table. "There's not much to say, Jeremiah. I left willingly and turned down the commision."

He ran a hand through his own hair, sighing once more. "One doesn't simply turn down the military, especially not when you're in the Star Class. I also knew you were top of your class, Lily, tell me what happened?"

The blonde remained silent for a moment, fidgeting. "I... didn't feel like I deserved the commision."

"You had a direct line to Prince Clovis' Battalion," he noted. "You would have been promoted directly to first lieutenant. You know I had to start at second lieutenant myself."

Lilicia frowned. "I just felt that I was undeserving of it... and you're not even in the normal military anymore, Brother."

The Royal Guards Division did not care for your previous rankings.

"Besides the point," he waved away her distraction. "You had the best scores out of the class, I read your file."

"The best score," she mused with some sadness. "On paper yes, I was top of the class. But they never considered all of the practicals. I was never the fastest in the field, never the best marksman, and not even the best KMF pilot..."

"Your instructors disagreed with that assessment. They put you down as the best pilot amongst the graduating year."

Lilicia shook her head. "They were wrong... I was second best."

Jeremiah was slowly connecting the dots in his head. He knew his sister had confidence issues, an unsurprising fact given their upbringing. "It still doesn't matter what you think, surely you trusted the opinions of the instructors?"

In the military, and especially in the officer side, the instructors were known to be brutally fair. You had to truly be a prince or a princess to even have a chance at favoritism.

"I did, and I was thinking of accepting until they announced that only the best graduate would be receiving the special commision from Prince Clovis."

It suddenly clicked in his head. "The second best... was it your friend?"

She nodded sadly. "She was... Villetta was a great friend to me. She never cared that I was a Gottwald."

"You gave up the spot for her." Jeremiah was gobsmacked as she nodded once more.

"She was the better KMF pilot, and it was her dream to have a chance at working for a prince of Britannia. She worked so much harder than me, almost killing herself for it... and yet I was picked ahead of her, nevermind the fact that I rarely beat her in the mock battles."

Jeremiah sighed. "You know that if I were in her position, I would hate that you stepped down for me."

Lilicia flinched, suddenly finding the balcony opening much more interesting than her brother's judging gaze. "She hasn't spoken to me since."

"Oh, Lily... how on earth are you the way you are, having grown up in here?" he asked with a wry smile. "Honestly, were you the bad influence growing up and not me?"

"Oh shut up," she stated without much bite. "I should blame you for getting me into all of those fairy-tale novels about knights and chivalry. Nobody told me that being honourable had to suck this much."

He chuckled, and the two siblings shared a smile.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked with a sigh, slumping into her seat. "The military was my only plan you know? The only way I could see myself getting away from here like you did."

"Father never did appreciate the fact that you enrolled without his permission."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "He would much rather I be engaged to some noble prick so that I could add to our name in a more meaningful way."

Jeremiah hummed in agreement, strumming the tabletop with his fingers absently. "So what are your plans now?"

"Truthfully...? Nothing." She rested her head on the table, almost petulantly. "I was able to resign under a honourable discharge." She knew that it was likely due to the status of her family that enabled her to walk away so cleanly. "I doubt I would be able to walk back in."

"Very unlikely." Jeremiah knew that it was possible with the right connections, but it wasn't something to be done in any short amount of time.

Together, they shared a moment of contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"How would you like a job?" he asked after a few minutes of thinking.

Lilicia perked up immediately. "Really?" Her eyes glinted in excitement, as her mind began to churn. "Y-you mean... under him?"

"Yes, Lily, but it's not a guarantee." He gave her a smirk as he stood up, prompting her to do the same. "Go pack your things, we'll go today."

"Today? That's too fast! I need to prep... what do I even say? Wait—what is the job description anyway?"

He shook his head, pausing at the door. "I'll give you half an hour to pack. Nothing I can really say to help you but... just prepare for the hardest interview of your entire life."

Lilicia Gottwald swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, a look of panic suddenly taking over her previously-happy expression.

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"Everything up to your standards, General?"

The large uniformed man turned around slowly, his usually sharp grey eyes softening as he caught sight of the person speaking to him. "Prince Lelouch, good to see you again." He gestured to the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the vast array of ongoings in the institute. "You have some impressive stuff... as always. Is that a new energy weapon I see down there in the corner?"

Lelouch followed his gesture towards the corner of the research floor where a team of engineers were handling a long metal rod of glowing light. He smiled at the sight. "Something like that."

"Don't hold back on me, Your Highness." the general was all smiles, to the shock of the team of the aides that had followed him on this trip. "Hey you, make a note of that plating method down there," he told the nearest aide, causing the young man to nearly jump in his shoes.

The dark-haired prince raised an eyebrow. "I'll be more than happy to give you a report on our armouring techniques, General. Those are not proprietary."

The general waved his hands. "Bah, no need, our own engineers need more work anyway. You wouldn't believe the amount of excuses they have these days for their incompetence. Know what they keep telling me? That they can't out-engineer some private upstart company—run by a teenager—despite being given ten times the budget." he scoffed. "Absolutely pathetic."

Lelouch chuckled graciously, already used to the general's harsh words. It had taken a long time for them to build a rapport, but he could finally say that he was now on the old general's good side. "We can talk more in my office, if you'll follow me."

Seeing the general nod, he led the two of down the hall, along the length of the hallway bridge that ran through the middle of the Ashford Catalyst Center. Both sides of the walls were transparent windows, granting them a sublime view of the action so-to-speak. On the main floor of the research center, a great number of engineering experiments could be seen taking place. KMF of various shapes and sizes, their parts, and even their weapons were being tested. It would seem like chaos to all but the most trained eye. But it was how they worked the best, and Lelouch was not going to say anything given the results.

"You've added another wing," General Reeves noted as they neared the end of the hallway bridge. They came upon a fork, with the left leading to another hall under construction.

"Yes," Lelouch said, gesturing to the left. "Engineering was complaining about the shared space, so I've set up a new wing for our Technology Division."

The large general sent a curious gaze down the hall, but did not inquire further, choosing to step into the office just to the right. The office had another large windowed wall that overlooked the wooded area in the back of the center, allowing the occupants an unobstructed view of the countryside. It was spacious and comfortable enough, with just the right amount of furnishings to be considered proper. A bookshelf to the left, and a vase full of flowers to suggest that it was a place that was lightly used.

Lelouch gestured for his guest to sit, before taking his own position at the desk in the middle of the room. They both leaned back into the comfortable leather chairs, taking a moment to gather their respective thoughts.

"Tell me, Lelouch, have you ever given thought as to the military's role in our wonderful empire?" General Reeves asked, forgoing the formality.

The question made him blink. "Certainly, General... I know just how important our armies are in protecting our interests."

"Protecting. What an amusing term for it." The wizened military leader chuckled. "I doubt those who we've crushed under our Knightmare Frames would agree with that term."

"Likely not."

The general took a moment to take a small wooden case from inside of his coat. Opening it in a deft manner, revealing the sight of two large cigars that could be seen even from Lelouch's position. "You don't mind do you?"

Lelouch did mind, as he detested the smell of smoke, but was mindful of who he was talking to. One did not simply tell a Chief General Candidate to put away his cigar. The candidacy part was just a formality at this point. Lelouch knew that there would be no one better for the Ground Forces than the person before him. In the end, he nodded.

"Nobody really talks about it. It's just ingrained into us as a society; we love to live and die by the sword afterall." The general exhaled after a long draw of his cigar, filling the room with the acrid smell of tobacco. "But they don't realize just how ingrained it is. Tell me, Lelouch, what would happen if we simply stopped our military projections across the globe, stopped our involvements in conflict zones... stopped preparing for future wars?"

Lelouch wrinkled his nose at the smell, but tried his best to ignore it. Somehow he knew that the older man was enjoying his discomfort. "That would be impossible, General. On an economic and societal level. Our economy would freefall, the lords would rebel, and the rest of the world... well, I bet they would be sharpening their knives."

It was not an exaggeration to say that Britannia ran on the blood of its enemies. Constant wars meant constant preparation and training. Constant victories meant a never ending supply of materials—raw goods and manpower—to fuel the war machine. Conquered territories subservient to Britannia meant that the ends justifies the means. Through these actions, Britannia was able to consistently crush her enemies every time... and become stronger for it. She was a beast that would not stop growing.

"You are correct," Reeves nodded with acknowledgement. "Most of our own lords do not even realize that fact. So eager are they for glory and power... to better their own house through the destruction of others." He took another long draw from his cigar. "I wonder, what end awaits us—the so-called lions—when there are no more herds to trim, no more sport to be had."

Lelouch sent him an unreadable look, choosing his next words carefully. "I believe that we would have conquered the world by that point. Then our only troubles will be how we manage such a world." He chose the Britannian narrative.

"One should hope." The general sent him a calculating look of his own. "Bah, that sort of thing I leave to the lawmakers and busybodies. I'll leave the managing to them, and the conquering to the rest of us."

"Agreed."

Reeves sighed, tossing the remainder of his cigar into the trash bin to the left of the desk. Lelouch eyed the action warily, glad that his bin was made of metal—and empty—lest the smoking cigar started a fire in his office. He did not want to imagine the fallout if a fire alarm was actually triggered in his area of the complex.

"So you got what you wished for, Lelouch." The older man reached into his breast pocket, taking out a small piece of paper and unfolding it before sliding it across the desk. "As an acknowledgement to Ashford Industries for services rendered, and to build a long-lasting relationship, an exclusive contract with all four branches of the military. Congratulations."

Lelouch could not help his excitement as he picked up the small note and began to scan it with well-trained eyes. All sense of achievement was quickly dashed however, as he read through the note. It was brief, just a list of KMF frames, with specific parts including their Mirror Shielding module, and a number beside them indicating how many to procure.

"General Reeves... these numbers."

"I know."

They shared a moment of silence, Lelouch's expression already turning cold. "This is not what we discussed. There is no way to fulfill this order—the numbers alone on the Mirror Shielding modules make no sense."

The older man merely leaned back into his seat. "Like I said, Lelouch, you got what you wished for. You wanted exclusivity? A partnership? This is the consequence."

"The numbers do not work out." Lelouch had immediately done all of the calculations in his head. The numbers listed would exceed the military's KMF budget for the entire year and then some. "You cannot tell me that the Chief Generals signed off on this order?"

"They did," the general answered gruffly, before adding, "some... individuals, made very persuasive arguments during the last strategy session just before the budget meeting. So persuasive in fact, that our KMF budget was doubled for the year, and the number of Mirror Shielding retrofits quadrupled. They also expect double the number of Sutherlands per quarter."

Lelouch slumped back into his seat. "The Purists..." He knew that their members held high positions in the military, but didn't think that it was possible for them to influence the Chief Generals.

The general nodded. "I was not present at the strategy session, so all I have is hearsay, but they made the compelling argument that we had to preserve our KMF lead at all costs. I'm inclined to agree with them. We may be years ahead with our current tech compared to the other countries, but that gap is constantly shrinking. With your Mirror Shielding technology, we can add another year to that gap."

"Then this contract is not a business one." Lelouch had already concluded everything, but wanted the confirmation.

"Indeed. This is no longer just about future dealings with a private company." The general made to stand up, giving the young prince facing him a knowing look. "For what it is worth, I do apologize. Ashford Industries deserved to be handled in a much more respectable manner."

"You have my thanks," Lelouch said absently.

The young prince had steepled his hands together in thought, not even getting up from his position at the desk to see the general out. If the older man thought it was improper, he did not show it, simply choosing to head towards the door.

"The official contract will be sent later this week. You must fulfill the order, Lelouch. I truly hope that you do," the general said in parting, before leaving him to his thoughts.

Lelouch knew what would happen if they should fail. The military wielded absolute power in times of conflict... and a private company—despite being backed by a prince of Britannia—would be crushed into submission at the slightest sign of incompetence. They would happily seize all of their assets—including their protected research—should they be unwilling or unable to produce the desired results. He was loathed to admit it, but he had been forced back into a corner, and the unfamiliar feeling was decidedly uncomfortable. There would be no easy way out of this, not even Schneizel or Cornelia could lend a helping hand.

He had placed an incredibly risky bet for a reward that could never have been obtained normally... and he could already see it in the distance. But there the prize stayed, unmoving, a stone's throw away, and this time, Lelouch could not see a way to close that distance.

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It was awkward.

That was the only way to describe the current situation. She was sat, primly and attentively, waiting for some sort sort of acknowledgement from the person seated at the desk before her. But for the last ten minutes, he had not given a single indication that he cared for her presence, merely choosing to read through the packet of papers at a leisurely pace. The packet contained her very best achievements—the summation of Lilicia Gottwald as an individual of note. Yet it could have been mistaken for mere scribbles given the bored look on the black-haired prince as he scanned through it.

Lilicia thought that perhaps it was some sort of intimidation tactic. She had suffered through them often when dealing with military officials. There were many who had looked down on her either due to her prestigious background or due to her gender. But she doubted that the prince cared about any of that.

Nonetheless, there was a bead of sweat forming near the back of her neck, but she dared not reach out with a hand to clear it away. It was ridiculous... the way that the prince was able to exude such a pressure that she was unwilling—and unable—to draw his attention.

Just as she was beginning to break, on the verge of running out of the room with an apology ready on her lips, the young prince spoke.

"Lilicia Gottwald."

She immediately straightened up, almost instinctively. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Why are you here?" Lelouch asked, putting down the rest of the dockets containing her portfolio. He had already learned everything pertinent.

"I... I wish to work under you." She managed to say without stuttering, though it took effort on her part.

He was not a mere teenager. Not with the way his cold eyes pierced through her, as if seeing straight into her very soul. No, she thought. His eyes weren't necessarily cold, they were calculating and unreadable. She couldn't even begin to guess as to his true emotions.

"Do you? And how much could someone who just recently dropped out of the military contribute to my interests?" he asked with a thin smile. "'Honourably' discharged?"

She winced under his look. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Why?" he asked promptly.

Lilicia thought back to her conversation with her brother. She had believed it to be out of love for her friendship. "Selfishness," she admitted, looking down at her knees. "I thought that I was helping a friend by giving her the opportunity that was offered to me. And that she had deserved it more than me..." She paused. "But in actuality it was just a way to make me feel better about myself. It was easy... to think that I was being selfless and kind, when in reality I was doing it more for myself."

She knew that she had felt pity and guilt for Villetta. Her friend was a girl who had come from the lowest rung of society, and had desperately wanted to redeem herself and better her family's name. Villetta had worked herself to the bone just to be admitted into the Star Class, while Lilicia had been enrolled without an afterthought. The guilt would have eaten her alive had she accepted the commission.

"You turned down a special commision from my older brother, to give it to another?"

She nodded dully.

Lelouch sat back in his seat, his expression unchanging. On the inside however, his interest was growing.

"You and your brother are alike. So afflicted by your ideals." Seeing, Lilicia's hesitant look, he elaborated. "It's a compliment." Jeremiah Gottwald was truly a person that lived by his ideals, much like himself. "Now, tell me, Lilicia Gottwald, why do you wish to work for me?"

It was that piercing look again, and this time Lilicia knew that she couldn't hesitate in the slightest.

"Empress Marianne... was a hero to me." She was reaching into dangerous territory, judging by the tightening of the prince's lips. "Truly, there was nobody like her in Britannia. I—my brother and I, we followed all of her steps closely. She was truly a knight... on the battlefield and off. She was ruthless to her enemies, but not needlessly so. Kind and loyal to her allies, she would not hesitate to defend them. She was the sword and shield of our empire."

If her flowery words for the late Empress earned her any favour from the prince, she could not see it.

"I have heard of you, Prince Lelouch," she continued quietly, "from my brother and from others... that you are intelligent beyond belief. That you care deeply for your allies, having come to the aid of your family's closest ally despite your own situation. That you care not for ones' status or prestige, but simply their ability." She hesitated. "That you are a demon to your enemies, and that you are not someone who forgets."

Lelouch's unreadable expression softened ever-so-slightly with the upturn of his lips. He nodded his head, giving the young Gottwald a positive indication to continue.

"My brother has pledged his service to you. Many, including my own father, has looked down upon him for doing so." She looked steadily into his eyes. "They believe it to be luck that has carried you this far."

"And what do you think?" he asked.

"I know that it is no luck. And I believe that my brother chose correctly. He believed in the ideals that Empress Marianne stood for... that you stand for." Lilicia knew that she was presuming too much. "I wish to serve under someone who represents those ideals of loyalty and strength."

Lilicia got off the seat before kneeling immediately, down on one knee. "Prince Lelouch, I offer you myself in its entirety, inadequate though I may be. Please allow me to be your sword, your spear, or even your shield."

Lelouch vi Britannia stood up slowly, looking over at the blonde beauty kneeled just before his desk. The hesitation and nervousness that had surrounded her was no more, and a resolute figure of a knight-errant was in her place. He felt a smile breaking through his facade.

Like brother, like sister, he thought to himself.

"Well said, Lilicia Gottwald." He stood before her, and waited for a short moment, watching as she tensed and trembled as she awaited his next words. "Stand up."

She did so promptly, snapping to attention in the familiar military style that had been ingrained into her. Her hands behind her back managed to hide her shakiness rather well.

"I accept your service."

His words sent relief and elation through her entire body. She had never known such pressure in her life, not even when she had turned down Prince Clovis' offer. And she had never known such a feeling of pride. She was still in awe, her eyes unseeing as she walked herself out of the study, not even noticing the figure of her brother looking at her curiously as she stumbled past.

Jeremiah Gottwald hesitantly stepped into his prince's study. Knocking politely, twice on the opened door, and moving towards the lone figure that was now reseated back at his desk.

"She pledged herself to me," Lelouch said promptly, without looking up from the document he was reading.

His words sent Jeremiah into panic. "M-my prince, I must apologize, I didn't think—"

"I accepted." The dark-haired prince sent him a look that held his humour. "Should I not have?"

Jeremiah was truly shocked. "I—well, I do believe my sister to be extremely capable in all areas. But truthfully I had thought that she would seek a position amongst our immediate staff—perhaps as one of your executive assistants..."

"You never told her what the open position was about."

"...No, I didn't." The older man hung his head. "My deepest apologies, Your Highness."

Lelouch shook his head. "Relax, Jeremiah. I have no doubt that your sister will prove herself to be just as capable as yourself."

"Your words are too kind." In all of the years that Jeremiah had spent serving the young prince, words of praise were rare. Yet it was not because he was undeserving—it was the opposite. He knew that Lelouch always expected the best of those in his service and would not bother with pointless platitudes. Instead, the prince showed his gratitude through his expectations. There were very few in the world that Lelouch trusted enough to carry out his personal orders.

That fact filled Jeremiah with pride.

"Sit down, Jeremiah. We have work to do." Lelouch's seriousness was answered in kind as the loyal knight sat down immediately. "You will be leading meetings with these dukes in the coming weeks," he said, handing over a binder at the same time.

Accepting the binder full of detailed profiles, Jeremiah furrowed his eyes in thought. "I take it our timeline has been moved up?" They were the dukes that Lelouch had been courting on behalf of Ashford Industries. Men of considerable financial and political prowess, they were the few remaining dukes that could still be called neutral. Enticing them to their side, even just as investors, was supposed to be a slow process. Afterall, they were not the only ones pushing their interests.

"Obliterated would be more accurate," Lelouch said scornfully. He was reluctant to admit that he had been backed into a corner unwittingly. "We'll need to scale our KMF production up by a factor of three... maybe more. Our Mirror Modules as well... though I can't see that happening anytime soon."

The cost to retrofit an existing KMF with the Mirror Shielding kinetic absorbers and reflection rail was more than the KMF itself. In addition, the parts could not be easily mass-produced, nor could the retrofitting process be outsourced to contractors. It was a very rigorous process that required considerable tuning. Not to mention the fact that it was proprietary.

It was a small relief that ramping up their KMF production was easy enough to do. They were pioneers of the KMF assembly line after all, and if they shifted all available engineers into KMF production then they could meet the numbers quite easily... if they could procure enough raw materials.

Jeremiah frowned. He was in fact someone that was well-versed in KMF technology, as it was his field of study at the Imperial Colchester Institute. It was a well-known fact that KMFs were not easily produced en-masse. There were many who had postulated that it would never be practical to mass-produce KMF for normal army usage. The world's first mass-production model had been the Glasgow, shown to the world in the invasion of Japan, and had proved them wrong. Yet there was a reason why the fifth-generation successor to the Glasgow, the Sutherland, had taken almost five years to develop and produce.

Knightmare Frames were expensive beyond belief, both in parts and sheer manpower. The cost of pilot training, maintenance, and repairs could not be overstated. Of course, the mere fact that these machines ran on Sakuradite Energy Filers meant that the true cost to field them in bulk was out of reach to all except the world's superpowers. It was this fact that made what the Britannian Military was doing baffling to his eyes.

Ashford Industries provided them with an ample supply of both KMF frames and parts. These parts could be purchased at a competitive price without the overhead of securing factories, materials, and engineers. Even the military, with its considerable budget, could not easily ramp up KMF production. The cost to increase their own production levels to eliminate the need for the private companies was much more than simply purchasing the KMFs outright.

Yet the military was effectively trying to take over all private production of KMF through implied force. The fallout of such an action would be immense in the long-term. Private companies and investors would be hesitant in dealing with the Britannian Military if they knew that all of their assets could be seized on a whim.

"Give me your orders, Your Highness, and I will see it done." Jeremiah was resolute as he looked at his prince. They had been in disadvantageous spots before, but Lelouch had always pulled them through with sheer will and intellect. He doubted that this would be any different, despite the degree of uncertainty.

"You will go to the duke, Rowen Shields, tomorrow... in person. Ensure that he sees the benefits of working with us. He was always a pragmatic man. You have my permission to give him access to our quarterly numbers and projections." Lelouch tapped his fingers on the desk absently, in thought. "If I remember, he had always leaned in favour of my mother's actions, and supported her many bills. Hopefully that support has not wavered."

Jeremiah nodded, recognizing the name of the southern lord, who was another major player in the metals industry. The man was a rare duke who cared little for titles, and would most likely entertain a meeting with someone who was only the son of a margrave. If not, then Lelouch's growing name would at least grant him a conversation.

"And you, my prince? Shall I prepare the guards for an extended outing tomorrow?"

Lelouch shook his head. "No need, I'll be visiting my brother," he answered absently. He gave the document in his hands one last look before moving it neatly into the finished pile to his right. The desk was now clear, but only for a moment before he grabbed the thick stack of papers that he had been avoiding near the corner. "Now, let's go over our new timeline."

It was going to be a long day, but at least he wouldn't be bored. His carefully crafted timeline was now thrown to the winds, but that did little to dampen his resolve. He knew that the best laid plans were those that could be easily adapted after all.

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Author's Notes

Thanks for reading.

A Chief General is usually the head of the entire army. Cornelia was one in canon, but as we all saw, she did very little to actually represent that title. Seriously she should have had about 100x more resources at her disposal. I'll be remedying that in the story, firstly with the army more defined into Ground Forces, Navy, Air Force, and Foreign Legion. There will be multiple Chief Generals in charge of their respective forces, but Cornelia should remain a General for now, as it matches her style (going directly into battle) much better than a Chief General.

Someone asked if Marybell will be in this story, and I do plan on adding her, though the degree of interaction remains to be seen though. She would mesh rather well with Lelouch, probably being the only royal aside from Schneizel and Cornelia that he could trust.

A reviewer has pointed out that there are in fact canon versions of the 15th and 16th successors that are princes... that are also twins. Wow, I did not realize that at all. Turns out that they are from the Nintendo DS games of all things. To comply with 'canon', I will be moving my versions to 13th and 14th, but it shouldn't really matter, as the succession system is kind of an afterthought in canon, and not strictly based on order of birth (i.e Marybell). I'll make sure to explain my version of the system somewhere in the story; I imagine it to be based a lot on meritocracy and achievements, and being dropped in ranking is a form of punishment.

Thanks for the reviews/favs, any feedback is greatly appreciated.

Fun Facts

Lilicia is canon, as Gottwald's sister. No information about her though so I felt that she would make a good inclusion.

The Glasgow was based heavily on the Ganymede (by the Ashfords). It isn't a stretch to assume how important the Ashfords were in the creation/innovation of KMFs. It's no wonder that they were quickly brought down after Marianne died.