Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and/or scenes from the anime/manga Code Geass. I do not, in anyway, claim ownership over the characters, the world, the story, or any other aspect of it. This story should not be, in any way, considered canon. This story is written strictly for entertainment and not for profit.

Warning: This story will exhibit 'out of character' behavior on various levels though I will maintain their core personalities while adapting them to the story. If you don't like seeing your favorite characters act differently, then perhaps this story is not for you. I ask that you give it a chance but consider yourselves warned.

Long time no see everyone. Yeah, three very long years since this story was updated. As I mentioned in my other story during the last few updates for it, I've been very busy with several IRL things that came up one after the other so I haven't have a lot of time to write the past two or so years. Things are settling down, or as well as they could anyway with Covid and quarantines being a thing, so I've had more time to write lately.

I doubt I can update as swiftly as I used to but I'll definitely keep writing as long as I have the time.

I've only gone through this chapter once, so there may be some sections that seem off or out of order, since I copy pasted some paragraphs to rearrange them into something that flowed better. If you see any that I missed, please let me know.

Anyway, I'm sure I've kept you all waiting long enough so… ONWARDS TO MORE MADNESS!

Chapter 3 – Disaster Follows the Storm

October 27, 2019 A.T.B.

The aftermath of the Viceroy's welcoming party could be described with two words. Absolute chaos.

There were far too many issues to deal with and not nearly enough people to deal with them all. The only reason the Viceroy's Palace was still functioning fairly normally was the presence of Princess Cornelia herself.

Cataloguing the costs of repairs. Deducing their points of entry and exit. Interrogating the guards, both on and off-duty, regardless of their posts. Reviewing the list of wounded, both soldiers and nobles. And that didn't even include what would need to be done after a proper accounting was done with. Surprisingly, only one person died the previous night, though it was one person too many in her opinion.

Fortunately, this was the sort of thing that Cornelia was used to doing. And it was the sort of thing that Gino would need to get used to doing, which he was getting started on to her left while Guilford did his fair share to her right.

To Guilford's other side, Euphemia was also doing some work of her own. But rather than the previous night's events, the younger princess was getting a head start on her own duties. Namely dealing with the bureaucratic side of things while also reviewing the local records of the Caritas Foundations' actions. While she had already read them all in the past, she wanted to review them all with a fresher, more experienced perspective to see if she had missed any details before that might shed light on the foundation's failure to gain a foothold in the country.

"I'm glad you're all here. I don't think I'd last even five minutes doing all that."

At that declaration, three pairs of eyes slowly looked up from their respective paperwork to glare at the young man seated at the other end of the table while a fourth pair of eyes remained focused on their work, not wanting to see the speaker nor risk his attention.

"You know," Cornelia began, wishing that her glare could kill. Even if she normally would never have wished him dead. "This is supposed to be your job, Lelouch."

The Mad Prince remained silent, only giving her an innocent, beaming smile in response.

October 26, 2019 A.T.B.

"LELOUCH!"

Cornelia's roaring voice, laden with grief and rage, was drowned out by the panicked screams of the nobles as they attempted to flee the hall and the shouts of the soldiers as they attempted to maintain order.

"L-lelouch? No… no… No! NO! NOOOO!"

"This… this can't be... How did…"

She barely registered her sister, who screamed incoherent denials, and Gino, who had just arrived and was staring down at the body of his lord and patron with disbelief and shock. Her trembling hands – with rage or with horror she didn't know – slowly reached out for her brother, sometimes pulling back a hint as though afraid to confirm what her eyes were already showing her.

Her fingers, clad in pristine white gloves, was just about to reach the fatal chest wound when a nearby voice spoke. A voice that should not have been able to speak.

"Did you know him?"

Fingers twitched in surprise, brushing briefly against the blood-stained dress shirt, before her brain caught up. All at once, three heads spun to the side, eyes growing wide and mouths gaping at the impossible sight before them.

"Hm? What is it?"

Violet eyes, inherited from his sire, glanced at all three in turn, looking for all the world as though nothing was wrong. Those same eyes then turned to his person, checking every inch they could for the cause of the stares. They settled firmly on the ornate crystal bowl held in one hand and the frozen confection that lay within. Then, they looked back up to gaze back at those still staring at him.

"Sorry, this one's mine. You can't have it."

Cornelia growled upon seeing the smile but turned back to her work afterwards. There was very little to gain from arguing with Lelouch at this time. All she would be doing was wasting time, energy, and what little patience she had left. All of which were better spent on more important things.

Seeing him, however, once again brought to mind the previous night's events.

She knew it was him. She had seen it with her own two eyes.

The clothing. The hair. The eyes. That smile. The face. All of it had been his. All of it had been on the body that she had seen lying on the ballroom's floor, blood leaking from a bullet wound that practically tore his chest wide open, staining the floor crimson.

And yet, when she looked back right after seeing Lelouch standing next to her, just outside arm's reach, the dead body had somehow changed.

The clothing, the facial features, the hair, the eyes, and even the expression on his face were all disturbingly similar. So much so that he truly could have passed for Lelouch from a distance. However, she hadn't been at a distance. She had been right next to the body, she had been about to touch it. She couldn't have been mistaken.

She had speculated last night, while she had practically manhandled Lelouch to check for any injuries, that it must have been the extremely close resemblance combined with the shock and fear that had led her to make that mistake. Once she had calmed down, however, she realized that it couldn't have been that.

Euphemia had seen Lelouch, lying dead on the floor. Gino had seen him. Guilford had seen him. Even Reuben Ashford had seen him as he had followed after her, seeing the body shortly before Lelouch made his reappearance with a bowl of ice cream of all things. And if she were the sort to gamble, she would wager all she had that any of the nobles who had taken good long look at that time would have seen him as well.

No, there had been no mistake. Lelouch had been shot, and he had died with a smile on his face. Not from happiness, but from dying before he realized he was already dead.

So then… what happened?

That thought kept her occupied most of the night as she and half the Bellegarden soldiers kept watch over the Viceroy's residence, switching out with Guilford and the other half after a few hours while Gino tended to Lelouch and kept him indoors. Thankfully, he had only wanted to sleep, disappointed that the party had been cut short.

And as much as she wanted to get right to work on gathering information, her priority was getting Lelouch and Euphemia to safety. And, with only ten guards of his own, Cornelia dared not risk the possibility that Zero had left someone behind if his assassination had failed for whatever reason.

As such, the entire group from Bellegarden returned to the Viceroy's residence. While not the safest place in the entire Tokyo Settlement, it was the easiest to reach given that they were already in the same building and that they risked a possible ambush if they left the building. What few reports she had read showed that Zero was a brilliant tactician and strategist. An ambush wasn't out of the question.

Moreover, the residence was heavily fortified even if it wasn't obvious at first glance. Hidden gun emplacements were scattered throughout the replica garden and the walls were concrete-covered steel, protecting the building from even heavy weaponry to a degree. The windows and doors were still vulnerable, but the interior had been designed to make both the office and the master bedroom, which had no windows to sneak in through, easy to defend.

Even with only ten soldiers that she fully trusted along with Guilford and Gino, Cornelia was confident that the thirteen of them could hold off hundreds of men given the layout and design of the residence, if not eliminate them completely if they were foolhardy. Worst comes to worst, they could escape via the emergency tunnel and run a fighting retreat if necessary.

Cornelia was glad that she and Schneizel had managed to convince Clovis to prioritize his safety over a more aesthetically pleasing interior structure back when he was having it built. While it hadn't saved him in the end, it was still better than the risk of dying in his sleep.

She made a note to check on the integrity of the passageway before she returned to her own duties. A decade may not seem very long but there were many factors, minor and major, that could make that escape route unusable.

With only a single death, a minor noble or perhaps even a party crasher – nobody seemed to recognize the young man nor did he carry any identification – the soldiers on the premises were left to clean up and gather all the information they could. And the next morning, all that information found its way to the Viceroy's office, where all of them, minus Lelouch, were now going over their copy of the various reports.

And though she wasn't well-versed in this sort of matter, even Euphemia was still doing her best to go through them with a critical eye, hoping that her unique perspective amongst their little group would turn up something the more military-minded ones might overlook.

Thus far, Cornelia didn't like the picture that was forming in her head with every piece she picked up.

None of the soldiers on duty reported seeing anything out of the ordinary. With the entire Area on high alert due to the recent assassination of Prince Clovis, nobody had gotten into the building without any identification. All the guests were accounted for both coming into and going out of the building – their IDs had all been verified again on the way out as well just in case.

Lookouts and snipers stationed around the building exterior, and even the several dozen patrols roving the area, hadn't seen anything amiss outside the building. Patrol helicopters had not reported any sightings on any of the buildings that had been tall enough to use as a sniper's perch. And all of those buildings even had their own squad of soldiers posted on the roofs - why leave it to patrols to monitor when they could simply take those spots for themselves? - as well guards at the various entrances in case Zero decided to sneak in and use one of the floors below the roof anyway.

The increased security plans that Gino, with help from Cornelia and Guilford, submitted for use had caused General Bartley no end of headaches and problems in order to implement, but fear was an incredible motivator. Whether it was fear of death, or the fear of what would happen to him should another Prince die under his watch, the man had done his job and security had been increased at least tenfold.

And yet, the assassin had been positioned in the last place they expected.

Underneath the buffet table, they found the weapon in question. A custom-made sniper rifle. Or, rather, the broken remains of one. A feature they quickly discovered was that it was composed mostly of ceramic and various composite materials. It was clear that the many parts had been smuggled in, dropped off and collected at a predetermined location past all the checkpoints, and then reassembled by the assassin for use.

Whether the weapon broke after it was fired or was broken by the assassin after making the shot was yet to be determined.

As for the assassin, it was unclear how they had gotten into the room in the first place without being detected. There were no windows to slip in through, no air ducts large enough for even a toddler to crawl through, and everyone and anyone that came and went, including soldiers and royalty, were carefully screened multiple times. Even so, they had gotten in undetected. That, at least, made it clear that the culprit was one of the hundreds of people who had entered.

Surveillance footage of the event, unfortunately, were found to have been deleted to a large extent, making it all but impossible to check who all had been near the buffet table in question at that time. The recording had cut out even before Cornelia had entered the room, and came back on just as they were moving to bring Lelouch to a more secure location.

As of now, those on duty at the security rooms had been detained, as well as anyone who had entered it within the day, and investigations into that particular mess was still ongoing.

To make matters worse…

"How could the body just disappear?"

It was probably the fourth time she had asked the question and, just like the first time, nobody had any answers to give beyond baseless speculation.

As the report in her hands stated, the body of the deceased man from last night had disappeared. In fact, neither the body nor the soldiers that had taken it away ever made it anywhere near their destination, let alone to the coroner to see if the fatal wound could tell them anything about the weapon used.

Normally, it might have been an insignificant detail. The cause of death was obvious enough and there had been no outward signs of anything else that could have caused the man's death. Cornelia's instincts, however, had been raging the previous night whenever her eyes strayed to the bullet wound. Something about it bothered her at an unconscious level, something that part of her clearly felt was important enough to warrant a second look.

Unfortunately, it would seem that she would not be able to figure out that particular mystery anytime soon.

Not even twenty-four hours in and everything was already going to hell. If this was what she was leaving Lelouch, Euphemia and Gino to deal with, Cornelia would have to work extra hard during the two weeks she could assist them. And as unrealistic as the goal may be, she would have to see if she could draw out Zero within that time period and eliminate him as a threat, one way or another.

"What?! How?!"

Though only one man spoke, it was clear that everyone sitting at the table had the same questions in mind. Unfortunately, no one in the room could provide an answer.

"Strangely enough, even the Britannians do not seem to know the answer to that," replied their masked leader, tapping on the reports on the table before them. "Witnesses reported seeing the Prince Lelouch shot. Yet, moments later, he appeared, completely unharmed. Speculations include the possibility that shock led to them mistaking the young man for the prince in that brief moment due to their close resemblance, their lack of familiarity with his appearance, and the fact that he is the Viceroy, making him the most likely target for any assassination attempt."

"But you don't believe that, do you?" asked a calm voice from Zero's right, from the seat right next to them in fact. "After all, you were the one who took the shot. If you believed you had failed to kill the Prince then you would not have reported a success as you made your way to the rendezvous point last night."

Zero nodded, letting everyone know that their organization's second-in-command's reasoning was spot on. "Indeed, General. I observed him for at least half an hour, along with our other agents, before I fired. Unless we were all mistaken, that should have been the end of the Mad Prince."

There were grumblings and mutterings all around, most were of confusion but all were tinged with displeasure and anger. Their best chance at ridding themselves of yet another member of Britannian royalty, the country's next Viceroy to boot, had mostly ended in failure.

The only reason it hadn't become a complete failure was the success of the psychological aspect of the event.

The late Viceroy had been killed in the open from a great distance. His death had been the opening move of their revolution. Their first step out from the shadows.

The new Viceroy had been indoors, inside one of the most heavily protected buildings in the area. Even more so now that everyone knew of their existence. Yet he had been killed, or should have been killed, by an assassin who had managed to infiltrate the Viceroy's Palace despite their precautions.

The two events couldn't have been more different.

One took advantage of their opponent's complacency, their arrogance in their superiority.

The other occurred despite their enemy being prepared, their security tightened to the utmost.

Even so, Zero had slipped in and had nearly succeeded. In the Britannians' place they too would begin to fear for their lives even in the safety of their own stronghold. And that fear, from this point on, would color their every thought, their every decision.

Fear was a powerful motivator but, without something else to temper it with, it also demoralized one's spirit. And when their enemy had superior numbers, that drop in morale, even if only amongst the rank and file, would serve greatly to even the odds when the time came to face them in open combat.

The meeting continued for a while longer as they planned their next move and re-evaluated current plans to account for the failed assassination.

Seeing as they failed to induce further chaos by eliminating the new Viceroy, they would need to lay low first while observing how he and his entourage responded to the attack, rather than press the advantage. They had initially planned to to further weaken the enemy by taking out some key locations while increasing their own store of supplies by raiding the enemy's own.

Now, however, the presence of the Demon of Conquest by the side of a surviving Viceroy meant the military might of Area Eleven would no doubt be prepared for such a thing. Not to mention that the Britannians would likely have a stronger military response than they were expecting.

And yet, they could not simply lie low and wait for their vigilance to pass. They had already secured one and a half victories. If they backed down now it would be the same as admitting that they could not face Britannia's might in the open. They would be nothing more than opportunistic cowards capable only of striking when their opponent was unprepared.

It would not be easy, but they simply needed to find the right balance between caution and daring.

"I understand your concerns," Euphemia responded gently, speaking the same, or similar, words for what seemed like the umpteenth time. And much like the other times she had said it, she could feel the disappointment and disapproval in the eyes of most of the local government's civilian council. The fact that it wasn't coming from all of them was already a miracle in her favor. "However, these changes will only need to be in place for the next two years, three at most. At that point, we will be able to make small changes distributed across multiple stages during the following year in order to-"

"Even so, your highness," one of the men before her swiftly and sharply cut in. She could almost feel Guilford's glare from behind her when the man hesitated after interrupting her. Still, that hesitation didn't last very long and the man cleared his throat, continuing in a less… stern, tone of voice. "S-surely you cannot expect us to accept such an… abrupt arrangement. Not to mention, two years, never mind three, is far too long. We also cannot forget that this 'Zero' character is out there pretending to be some sort of hero for the Elevens, sowing discord, inciting the masses, and making them far less cooperative. Under such circumstances, can we truly expect these Elevens to be able to improve their situation even if we give them our full support for an entire decade?"

The young man on the other side of the long table barked out a laugh along with the two next to him. "They're nothing but barbarians, my Lord. Even if we gave them every pound in our treasury down to the last penny, they'll probably squander it all in but a few months."

While they refrained from any uproarious behavior, the amusement in the eyes of most of them was still quite clear.

She had expected it, of course. She had faced the exact same situation countless times in the past, particularly when the Caritas Foundation was in its infancy stages and few people understood what she was trying to do beyond simply providing charity.

Britannians, particularly the nobility, were a proud and arrogant bunch. It was a sad and unfortunate truth that she had needed to accept shortly after the founding of Caritas. And, once more, she was forced to see that that truth continued to hold strong.

Thankfully, she was far more prepared for it now than she had been in the past. Even if dealing with this soon after going over last night's fiasco was giving her a minor headache.

The civilian council, as had been her late brother Clovis's choice when it came to managing his given territory, was composed of nine nobles of the highest standing in Area Eleven, barring those already part of the military. Her brother had formally established it about two years after he was given the post of Viceroy. Prior to that, he had often consulted with much the same people already on the council when it came to the civilian sector of the Area. With the exception of one, the other eight were held by those who had contributed the most to the development of the Area in those two years.

From the profiles Euphemia had reviewed the day before and earlier that morning, she had compiled and memorized the necessary information that she would need for this initial meeting.

Of the nine, four held their positions through great monetary contributions, whether directly or not. Lord Anthony Stryker, son of Duke Stryker, was the most prominent among them. His personal contribution easily equaled that of the other three, mainly due to the fact that his family was responsible for one of the larger Sakuradite veins in the homeland. In fact, if she remembered correctly, it was roughly three times the size of the one found in Mayfair, which was already in the upper third in terms of size when it came to those found strictly in the homeland.

And as everyone the world over knew, any operation surrounding Sakuradite tended to be incredibly profitable due to the high demand.

The dossier made note of how he had attempted to purchase control over the Area's local Sakuradite mines, but Clovis himself had denied him, though quite gently. Not to speak ill of the dead, but if there was one good thing that he did for the local populace during his administration, it was the formation of the NAC, the Numbers Administration Council, as well as leaving control of the precious resource to them along with control over any and all of the local industry that had survived the war. Not without any oversight, of course, but that went without saying.

Though it went without saying that neither Lord Anthony Stryker, nor most of the other nobles, saw it in the same positive light.

The other three were no less important in their own way. In addition to their monetary contributions, Lord Bolton, Lord Ashworth, and Lady Blackwall, were the owners of many of the Britannian companies that came over from the homeland to add to their growing fortunes.

Lord Bolton primarily owned canning factories and the like, and he was amassing a decent fortune due to the many local products not found, or not easily found, elsewhere.

Lord Ashworth and Lady Blackwall's factories worked in concert. The former processed the raw materials found in the area, and the latter used them for their own products.

And those products?

Those went to Viscount Stadtfeld, the fifth member of the council. Also one of two who did not seem to dismiss her proposals entirely.

For many years the company owned by his family, the Adamas Corporation, led the race of Britannia's technological growth. The discovery of Sakuradite had slowed them down when rival companies with much easier access to the precious resource were able to study and utilize it sooner than they did, but Viscount Stadtfeld's Corporation quickly joined the race once they gained access to Sakuradite for their own use and soon retook the lead.

Seeing as he had a foot in the door, having already established himself for years in Area Eleven back when it was still Japan, it was only natural that Viscount Stadtfeld was one of the first people that Clovis personally invited to his new council long before its formal establishment. And through that, the man was able to achieve a near monopoly on the local production of various Britannian electronics, appliances, and gadgets. Even the local brands produced by the Elevens stood little chance.

And, in the past year, he had even started a partnership with Earl Conway's own company, the Lockwell Corporation, the Empire's longest-running arms manufacturer and currently the Empire's main supplier for Knightmare Frames.

Shortly after they joined hands, the technological expertise of the Adamas Corporation had aided those at Lockwell in finally making that breakthrough that many of the latter's rival companies had been struggling against for over a year. Roughly half a year ago, the latter released news of the development of the Lancaster, a sixth-generation Knightmare Frame.

Where the Gloucester, previously the most advanced mass-produced Knightmare, was merely a step above the Sutherland, the Lancaster, even the prototype model that was used for the initial military demonstration in order to acquire more funding, was a significant improvement in nearly all aspects. Its biggest selling point was that, despite the increased specifications that would normally make it harder to handle for the average operator, Adamas's contribution of a far more streamlined operating system and interface actually made it far easier to operate than that of a standard Gloucester or Sutherland.

The first units had been delivered to the Britannian Army just two months ago. In fact, Cornelia's personal unit was one of four to receive them for field testing. Euphemia didn't understand all the technological aspects, but the fact that her sister approved of them was more than telling. With her personal endorsement, it wouldn't be long before the Lancaster became the standard Knightmare Frame of choice of the army.

The next three members of the council were, in the grand scheme of things, minor players. The sons of three of Clovis's closer acquaintances who had petitioned her brother to grant them the position in their place in order to help them grow into their own. Either because he had received their counsel for the better part of two years and thus felt obligated to accept, or because he thought the sons of such men would eventually show the same ability, her late brother had accepted. As such, the three young nobles were given a seat on the council.

That was not to say that they did not do their parts nor did they lack in ability, but they had little to no accomplishments of their own over the past decade beyond their current posts. And from what their dossiers stated, none of them had taken any steps to accomplish anything else at the moment, nor have they ever submitted any major proposals to the council. Whether it was simply the folly of youth or the complacency she had slowly come to associate with some of the nobility, she was uncertain.

And finally…

"Though they may be my fellow countrymen, I have to agree, your highness. Your proposal is far too optimistic as it is."

Kaguya Sumeragi, the ninth member of the council, and representative of the NAC.

Long black hair that fell to her waist, forming a luxurious looking curtain that framed her youthful face. Shining green eyes that held a cheerful and bright light yet quietly and sharply observing everything she did. Black business attire that lent her a mature air, making it easier to take her seriously rather than as a child dressing up like an adult.

Had she not seen the dossier beforehand, Euphemia would have been surprised to learn that this young woman had only just turned sixteen a little over two months ago. Even so, it had surprised her that such a young girl was on the council, not to mention one of the six who headed the NAC.

The NAC was officially listed as headed by the Sumeragi family. However, due to the untimely death of her predecessor shortly after the end of the occupation, the position was granted to another, Taizo Kirihara, when the NAC was formed. And it would be his to hold until came a time that the young Kaguya was deemed ready.

Then, during the monthly council meeting two months ago, the elderly Taizo arrived alongside the young Kaguya, introducing her to the council and the Viceroy as the newly appointed head of the NAC as well as his successor as representative on the council. Once the introductions were over, Taizo excused himself and promptly left.

One would expect that one as young as her would have the assistance of her predecessor until came a time that she could stand on her own. Instead, she proved that she was already more than capable. In fact, judging by the transcripts of the council meetings the past several months, she could almost say that Kaguya Sumeragi was even better than her predecessor.

There was no logic to it. In fact, the young princess would readily admit that it was nothing more than intuition. But, as Cornelia often told her, "Your instincts are your past experiences warning you of something that you have forgotten, but should already be aware of." As such, she made sure to engrave in her mind what it was she was feeling.

"In that case," Euphemia began, "I assume you have a suggestion regarding how these changes should be implemented instead?"

Before any of Britannian nobles at the table could argue against implementing even a single one of Euphemia's proposals, the younger teenager responded with a beaming smile, "Of course, your highness."

And when the princess saw that smile, she firmly reiterated to herself what she had already told herself to remember. Of the nine members of the council, Kaguya Sumeragi was the most dangerous one among them.

Several hours later, after partaking of a light evening meal, the three royal siblings and Gino had gathered once again, this time in the small conference room up in the Viceroy's residence, to discuss their day's progress. Guilford, in the meantime, was working with the soldiers to discuss security measures.

While Euphemia, escorted by Guilford and two other soldiers from Bellegarden, had convened with the civilian council that afternoon, Lelouch, Gino, and Cornelia and met with Clovis's military council.

Needless to say, Euphemia had a more successful and productive day, if only because a certain person wasn't present at her meeting.

"It's that bad then?"

Cornelia shook her head, though her expression was far from pleased. "No, but the situation isn't good either. The officers on the military council are competent, but highly inexperienced. They're capable enough when it comes to handling minor matters or keeping the peace, but most of them can't even see the trouble that's brewing. They all seem to think that Zero only succeeded because they weren't prepared for it and that a show of force will suffice to cow the Elevens from attempting anything further."

"I'm pretty sure we're way past that point," said Gino, holding up one particular report. "The bases that were raided were major supply bases. The preliminary estimates we received before mentioned that the stolen supplies were enough for a month. But that was only if they had been used for the base's defenses, in which case daily expenditure would have been low. Not to mention that the report as looking at things from the perspective of each individual base."

At that, even Euphemia couldn't hold back a grimace as she understood the miscommunication.

"With over a dozen bases raided, that's over a year's worth of supplies for any one base," concluded the blonde. "Put together, if the stolen supplies are used in active combat then Zero managed to steal enough to outfit and supply at least two full brigades of infantry, as well as enough energy fillers for at least one Knightmare brigade, maybe even another battalion at worst. How many battles that all lasts depends on where he decides to fight and how. Even so, that's not an insignificant amount."

"Not to mention that, given how well-planned his two operations have been, he has to have been planning this for a long time," he added, going over the notes he had taken earlier to summarize the reports. "Who knows how much they've stockpiled before all this. For all we know the supplies they stole were just so they have a little extra on top of a massive stockpile we don't know about."

"Maybe they stole the supplies because they don't have anything else to use?" Lelouch asked, seemingly trying to be helpful.

The princess of war didn't even bat an eye before responding. "If they only needed the supplies they wouldn't have killed Clovis. Assassinating the Viceroy, especially one who was also a member of the royal family, is a declaration of war. Unless Zero is a complete fool, he wouldn't have-"

"She."

"-killed Clo… what?"

"Zero's a she," Lelouch declared with a hand on his chin and a thoughtful nod, a small but proud smile on his face like a child having solved a complex problem on his own.

"… Lelouch, don't be ridiculous."

Immediately, the smile on his face was replaced by a massive pout. "But why?" Along with the whiny tone of voice, Cornelia couldn't help but think that perhaps Lelouch could very well start regressing in age mentally as well. "Just look at how skinny Zero is. No man is that skinny."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… What?"

"Have you look at yourself lately?" Cornelia asked, being the only one among the three of them who would actually be willing to say what was on all their minds.

"I saw myself in the mirror when I went to the bathroom earlier. Does that count?"

The Goddess of Victory shut her eyes and took a deep breath. A very deep, shuddering breath. She held it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out, counting in her head all the while. When she opened her eyes, she was no calmer than she had been earlier, but neither was her temper about to flare. "Lelouch, you do realize you are that skinny, correct? If not for several indisputable facts, I could almost say that you could be Zero, given how closely your build matches his."

The black-haired prince gave an amused huff as a smug smile graced his lips. "Cornelia, you do realize I'm still a growing boy, correct?" he asked in turn, his tone far more amused though the words matched his sister's. "Give me a few more months and I'll surpass even father in his prime."

A strangled, half-aborted snort of amusement was heard, and all eyes turned to the only blonde in the room. Though his expression was as neutral as it could be, he couldn't help the light dusting of pink on his cheeks, knowing that there was little he could do to disprove the obvious thought in their minds. Not to mention that the two princesses were likely more than capable of reading him no matter how well he tried to hide it.

Thankfully, two of three pairs of eyes turned back to Lelouch. Which, in turn, led to said prince returning his attention to his older sister. Though not without occasionally glancing back at his Guard Captain as though hoping to catch him in the act.

"Moving on," she declared, knowing they wouldn't get anywhere if Lelouch decided to stay on their current topic. "Euphie, what were your impressions of Clovis's civilian council? Will you be able to work with them?"

All of them, probably save for Lelouch, understood the unspoken words in her question.

'Will you be able to work with them, or do you need them out of the way?'

And, honestly speaking, it was a valid concern from her standpoint and not one born completely from her overprotectiveness of Euphemia. If half, or even a third, of the local council were like the officers she and Gino had to deal with earlier then it might be better to get rid of them then and there and start over from scratch rather than allow them even a tiny scrap of authority by which they could undermine her siblings.

Already, she was making plans in her head to do just that with Clovis's military council. While forming one for military operations, especially large-scale ones, was common, it was almost unheard of to do so during times of peace. Or relative peace as the case was with the many resistance groups across the Area. But for someone like Clovis who was not well-versed with military matters, establishing one was a step in the right direction.

The way he had implemented it, however, left much to be desired.

Though he held the final word for any and all decisions, he had still given them far too much authority with not enough oversight. What point was there in being able to overrule them if he wasn't aware that he needed to? It was a simple recipe for corruption and abuse of power. And from the moment they had spoken to Lelouch earlier of their 'concerns', she knew that most, if not all of them, were guilty of something that should have already been punished had there been proper monitoring and oversight.

Seeing the complicated expression on her sister's face, however, meant that the question wasn't an easy one to answer. Hearing the summary of the meeting only cemented that thought.

"I see," was her somber response, her mind already working on overdrive to find a solution to the problem.

"She avoided directly supporting my plans," Euphemia continued to explain, Cornelia and Gino listening intently. "But showed she wasn't a sycophant who completely abandoned her fellow Elevens by helping me find a compromise that the others could agree with. She didn't attempt to wring out more aid for the Elevens than what I offered, directly or otherwise, and even argued that I was offering too much. Afterwards, she spoke with Lady Blackwall and Lord Stadtfeld as they left. She didn't make any attempt to speak with me discreetly, or make any sort of request that may lead to a private meeting."

"In short, she's a highly competent politician who knows better than to try and use her position to openly support the Elevens out of pity or sympathy. What's more, her goals are unknown to us at this time," Cornelia summarized, even if it was overly simplistic. Then again, she had never been fond of politics. If anything, she tried to avoid any political issue that had nothing to do with the military. "Still, are you sure you would rather keep the council? She may be an unknown, but that does not make her the biggest problem. And keeping her close also means she'll be able to keep an eye on us as well."

"Not to mention that Stryker and Stadtfeld are two of the biggest names you'll encounter here in Area Eleven. Bolton, Ashworth, and Blackwall aren't too far behind. The sons of Gardner, Sullivan, and Westwood may not be that important by themselves, but their family names do carry some weight even here in Area Eleven despite their holdings being back in the homeland. Keeping the council but disregarding them too much will likely cause more trouble as a whole than disbanding the civilian council from the start."

"But what about the short-term?" Though no longer as naïve and inexperienced as before, this was still the first Euphemia would be involved in directly governing an Area rather than just providing humanitarian aid. And her inexperience showed as she asked her question.

"That's why you'll need to start making connections as soon as you can. Both of you," she turned her gaze to Gino, who straightened up in his seat. "Neither council fits what we need right now. The military needs to be decisive and fair. As much as I despise the Elevens, cracking down on them without just reason will only lead to more trouble. The current military council spends too much time bickering with one another while proposing plans that benefit them and their factions rather than solving the problem."

"On the civilian side of things, a majority of them care more about their personal and business interests than the Area as a whole. It's highly probable they'll start pulling out their interests if things begin to turn sour for us so you'll need to plan for that just in case. Stadtfeld seems to be relatively moderate but until you get a better handle on him I wouldn't trust him very much. And then we have a Number who seems to be the most competent of the bunch yet has an unknown agenda."

"Zero will no doubt be cautious while I am here, so before my time here is over you'll both need to find reliable allies and acquaintances for both yourselves and Lelouch. Whether you form a proper council like Clovis did or simply have them provide advice when necessary is up to you. But they'll need to be people you can trust to some extent. They'll be the ones you will turn to to help handle Zero and the local unrest after I leave."

She took a moment to look at the three she would be leaving behind, pleasantly surprised to see that Lelouch seemed to be listening intently even if he wasn't actively contributing anything.

Euphemia, for whom her heart ached to leave behind once two weeks were up, looked the most worried of them all and Cornelia understood why. Governing an Area, even if it was just the civilian sector, was not an insignificant task. Unfortunately, it was also one that she needed to undertake. To make things worse, civil unrest was a major issue unlike back in Mayfair, adding to the problems she would need to solve.

Gino, on the other hand, was looking much better. Though he often brought up his inexperience, she could see that he would be able to handle his side of things with the military well enough with someone advising him now and then. If it was up to her, however, Gino would strictly remain Lelouch's Guard Captain while someone else handled the military affairs. Something she'd bring up when the time came.

Lelouch, on the other hand, seemed deep in thought. She had to wonder whether he was thinking of something to do with the situation or if his mind had begun to wander again. The latter was quite likely, but sometimes the preferable option. The former, unless tempered with clarity, tended to lead to trouble.

"Lel-"

"I've got it!" Gino and Euphemia jumped at the sudden declaration that broke the silence, while Cornelia groaned and braced herself for the inevitable. "Why don't we invite the two councils to a dinner tomorrow night to get to know them better? I'm sure if we talk things out we can find some way to work together."

That… was the last thing she, or any of them, expected to hear coming from Lelouch. But where the other two were thinking it over to consider the merits, she just shook her head. "Lelouch, as good as that idea may be, you're being far too optimistic. Leaving aside the fact that most of them are more concerned for themselves, even my limited understanding of them can see that-"

The black-haired prince suddenly held out a hand, cutting off Cornelia. "Nope, not listening. We're going out to dinner tomorrow and that's that. I'll even make it a direct order and anyone who doesn't attend will be executed."

She could already feel the headache forming between her brows. "You specifically told them yesterday that execution would be the penalty for three failures. You can't jus-"

"Then I'll order them three times. If they don't show up then that'll be three failures, right?"

"That's not how-"

And for the third time that night, the Goddess of Victory was interrupted by the Mad Prince. "Alright, I'm going to make the call now so they know to get ready." He rose from the seat at the head of the table and began to make his way to his office. "Gino, start looking for a nice restaurant and make the reservations. We'll let the two councils know the details tomorrow."

As he walked out of the meeting room, all three of them heard him speaking to himself thoughtfully. "Should I make it a small party since the last one was interrupted? Maybe a masquerade? Hm… A swimsuit party? I wonder if…"

And as the prince walked out of earshot, all three of them shared a look. "This is going to end with a huge mess, isn't it?"

Cornelia sighed. "There's no other way it can possibly end."

Euphemia remained silent, but was fervently praying for things to go well.

Gino, in turn, sighed just as heavily then rose from his seat. "Might as well get to work then. Hopefully there'll be a nice classy restaurant with armored walls and bulletproof glass. And good insurance coverage."

Four meetings later and long after the sun had set, Zero entered their office moving with a calm and steady gait. Ignoring the paperwork on the desk that they had been working on in between meetings, they pressed their gloved palm against a section of the wall near the back wall. As they did, a well-concealed door clicked open ever so slightly and they pushed it open with their other hand.

They stepped through the doorway into their bedroom. The real one. Not the one assigned to them deeper in the base. That one was nothing but a decoy.

The door slid shut behind them, followed by the soft but heavy click of the lock re-engaging, and they found themselves engulfed in almost complete darkness with only the dim light of a glowing digital clock on the wall illuminating the room. Barely half a breath later, their entire demeanor changed.

Where once there was only steadiness that was oft admired by their subordinates, now only raging fury could be found. They took off the helmet encasing their head and violently threw it aside with a tremendous shout that shook the air, uncaring of the books it had knocked off the table to the side and of the damage it might have received, then ripped off the balaclava covering their face.

"HOW?!" Zero screamed, her undeniably female voice a stark contrast to the endlessly shifting modulated one the mask provided her alter ego. "HOW DID HE SURVIVE?! I SHOT HIM RIGHT THROUGH THE HEART! HE SHOULD BE DEAD!"

"How should I know?"

From a small, walled-off section at the back of the bedroom, the dim light barely illuminating the corner of a bed hidden mostly behind the wall, came a languid female voice, raspy with disuse likely due to its owner having just woken up despite the late hour. If there were any negative thoughts due to being woken up so violently, it wasn't evident in their tone.

"Unbelievable!" Zero ran a hand through her short hair as she began to pace around the small space, completely ignoring the other woman's rhetorical question. "Without the chaos of a second dead Viceroy, or even a heavily wounded one, half my plans will need to be scrapped now and the other half reworked. Never mind that Princess Cornelia is actually here as well. Just knowing that she's here after her role in the war has half the men worried if not outright terrified."

"Is that really why you're upset? Because one of your plans failed just as you were starting out?" An amused huff came from the bed followed by the rustling of sheets. "Or are you perhaps more upset by the fact that you failed to kill the prince? Failed to break th-"

"I couldn't care less about that!" Zero hissed sharply, her furious visage now directed at the woman on the bed. "At this point, he is nothing but another obstacle that needs to be eliminated."

Rather than be cowed, the other woman seemed to find those word amusing, judging by the soft laugh. "Hahaha… so you say." More movement was heard from her position, accompanied by a light creaking sound of wood, then soft footsteps. Stepping out from behind the wall that hid the bed was a woman with long hair falling past her waist, the color indiscernible in the darkness of the room. "But as the saying goes, lie to yourself long enough…"

The short-haired woman growled in response, understanding just what the other woman was hinting at, but made no further movements beyond angrily spinning around to glare at the woman and clenching her fists as through ready to attack. If the other woman felt at all threatened, she did not show it. She merely raised her arms above her head, twisted her neck this way and that, and arched her back with a soft groan and a sigh as she stepped forward where the dim light of the clock was just a little bit stronger, illuminating her naked form.

"Must you walk around unclothed?" Zero asked in exasperation, her anger and tension draining out as it often did when dealing with her companion. Walking over to her reading table with a silent shake of her head, she picked up the bottle of water and drank heavily. Given that her mask covered her entire head, she was unable to quench her thirst during the meeting unlike the others, so she had to do so before or after one.

The woman chuckled once more, completely unbothered by her nudity or that another was seeing it. "You've seen me naked many times before, so why bother getting dressed? Or…" Then, her grin grew just a hint more predatory. "Hmmm… You are legally of age now so… perhaps it's starting to bother you for… other reasons?"

Had anyone else been in the room, they would have been treated to the extraordinary sight of the indomitable Zero choking and spluttering as the unexpected comeback caught her off-guard, water going down and even coming out the wrong passageway.

"You-" The intensity of her glare was greatly diminished by the coughing fit that followed, even as Zero tried to verbally assail her companion. In the end, all it did was cause the other woman's grin to widen even further. "For the… last time," Zero began as soon as she recovered, "I have neither the time nor even the desire for such things. There are far more important matters to deal with."

"And that," the woman began, bending over at the waist as she pulled open one of the drawers built into the wall, her expression growing ever more amused as she heard another, different choked sound coming from behind her. "Is precisely why you need to indulge, now more than ever."

Though the darkness of the room made it so no details could properly be seen, and her position caused the light to cast a shadow where her genitals would normally be visible, just seeing what her companion was doing was more than enough to cause Zero to spin around, pointedly looking away. Even so, and despite the darkness, that was one sight that would be forever seared into her memory regardless of her feelings on the matter. Not to mention the reminder of how her companion had answered a question she had once asked regarding her hair color when she was younger and far, far more innocent.

"This is only the beginning of your revolution," she heard the woman say with a slightly more serious tone, her voice accompanied by the movement of clothing. "It wouldn't do for you to collapse, or even so much as falter, from stress and exhaustion before you even reach the peak. Take it from someone who has seen war. True war and not the one-sided slaughter you bore witness to years ago. Enjoy what little peace you have left. When the time comes, you will look back upon moments like this and wish you could have even a fraction of the time just to unwind."

"Seen war? Or participated in it?" Zero couldn't help but ask, taking this time to undo the clasp of her cloak then hanging it on the wall-hook next to her.

"Both, but you already knew that. Or, at least, suspected."

"Knowing for certain is different." Opposed to her companion who was getting dressed, Zero began to strip off her clothing, the dark Britannian formalwear that she had chosen as both a symbol and mockery of the system she opposed, in addition to masking her identity and gender. With the top undone, she shed off and lay the jacket on the back of a chair, leaving her in a lightly armored undershirt that doubled as a chest binder.

"Then as I said, take it from me that you'll want to enjoy what little peace there is left. When the flames of war begin to engulf this country, you'll be hard-pressed to find even a small measure of relief. When that moment comes, you'll want and need to be at your best, not deteriorating and feigning good health just because you couldn't make time to rest when you could have."

Despite the fact that the two of them often argued when in private, Zero knew that the other woman meant well. After all, she was one of two people she could trust to not stab her in the back, literally or figuratively. So, putting aside their more recent spat, which she would readily admit was one-sided far more often than not, she nodded and accepted the advice for which it was, even though the older woman likely wouldn't see the movement.

Slipping off the undershirt with just a hint of difficulty, she took a deep breath of relief as the pressure on her chest was lessened, leaving her top bare save for a second chest binder, though one that was far looser than the other and was there merely as a precaution. "I'll take it into consideration." The tone of her response was softer than before. For all her teasing, the woman's advice tended to be spot on, always given at the necessary moment, neither sooner nor later.

"Good," came the response. Though for some reason, the fact that the voice was closer, much closer, than she thought it would be sent alarms ringing through her head. "So then…"

A pair of arms were suddenly draped over her shoulders and over her bound chest. The position was slightly awkward due to Zero being several centimeters taller, but the shorter woman gently but firmly pulled, causing her to lean back and down into an embrace. At that point, Zero felt something pressing against her mostly bare back. Or, rather, two somethings.

Two soft, warm, and most definitely fleshy somethings capped with slightly hard but still fleshy points.

"… Shall I help you relax?" asked a soft, breathy voice right next to her ear.

"…" Her throat felt constricted, strangling whatever she was trying to say, even as her body began to tense and tremble ever so slightly.

"Hmm?" a whisper of air flowed around her ears, and her trembling grew just a bit more violent. "Shall I take that as a yes?"

"D-DAMMIT C.C.! PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!"

"I don't hear you saying 'no'."

Rather than a deterrence, the strangled shout that followed only further entertained the woman Zero had addressed as C.C..

October 28, 2019 A.T.B.

To say that her day thus far could have gone better was quite the understatement. In fact, Euphemia li Britannia could even go as far as saying it was the biggest understatement of her life.

Her day started well enough with an early breakfast with her sister where they spoke mostly of their plans for the day. Afterwards, she left for her new office, once again accompanied by Guilford, just as she heard Lelouch and Gino speaking of going to breakfast. She loved her brother, she truly did. The way he was, however, made it hard to be around him.

Once she had settled into her new office, which was just two doors down from the Viceroy's and refurbished just the day before for her use, she began to work on drafting her proposals for the civilian sector.

That, however, was when her day began to break down and founder.

It began with her secretary, a stern-looking woman named Alicia Lohmeyer who wouldn't be out of place in a school as a teacher or disciplinarian. In this case, she seemed to be intent on playing the role of a teacher. One who was intent on teaching her of the superiority of Britannian blood, and the inferiority of all others.

She was practically glued to her as she went about her task, hovering over her shoulder as she typed out her proposals. As soon as each one was printed out, she would read through them once more as though she had not already, then criticize them. Were it only that, she would have had little issue with it. She would prefer someone who spoke their mind, after all, rather than one who simply agreed with everything she said.

Ms. Lohmeyer, however, took it to a different level.

She criticized the fact that Euphemia had even considered lending aid to the Elevens as something worth the time and effort to arrange. The amount of aid being given, the cost, the number of personnel they would have to lend to the local Foundation branch, and even the time wasted typing up the proposal in the first place. Anything and everything she found wrong was heavily scrutinized, criticized, and all but outright condemned if it did not fit into her personal beliefs.

Only a discreet but sharp glance from Euphemia stayed Guilford's hand, and he quietly observed without a word, but not without a noticeable tension in his body, particularly his jaw and hands.

About the only good thing Ms. Lohmeyer did was that she had still gone on to make the arrangements needed, taking a copy of the plans with her and delivering the original to Lelouch's office. Whether it was due to Guilford's presence or the fact that she was an Imperial Princess, Euphemia didn't know for certain. What she did know, however, was that she would have to either learn to work with the woman or find a suitable replacement as soon as she could.

That, however, was easier said than done. Ms. Lohmeyer had been Clovis's aide on the civilian side, just as General Bartley was for the military. She, more than most anyone, knew the inner workings of the government. She knew those little details that Euphemia would only learn through experience or the passage of time. For the moment, the bigoted woman was here to stay.

A part of her suspected that, perhaps, the situation had deteriorated partly because of her. A smaller, more cynical part, even thought that perhaps she was the reason, or one of the reasons, why the Caritas Foundation was unable to properly do their jobs in Area Eleven.

She had immediately shaken off that thought. If the Foundation was facing internal difficulties she would have found out by now.

And that brought her to the second thing that started to go wrong with her day.

After drafting the proposals, submitting them to Lelouch for his approval, then sending off Ms. Lohmeyer and a few others to begin all the necessary preparations, Euphemia sat down for an early lunch. Afterwards, together with Guilford, a small squad of soldiers from Bellegarden, and Ms. Lohmeyer, who all but insisted on accompanying her, she left the Viceroy's Palace and proceeded to the building used by the local branch of the Caritas Foundation.

Needless to say, it had taken quite a bit of convincing for Cornelia to allow her to do so with such a small group. After all, to facilitate their work with the Elevens, the Foundation had requested a building closer to the ghettos rather than use the one in the Borough that had been offered to them on arrival. That she hadn't insisted on sending the entire army to guard her was already a massive compromise in the elder sister's eyes.

On her part, Euphemia simply had to allow Guilford to be in charge of their travel plans lest Cornelia found a reason to escort her personally. His arrangements consisted mainly of using an ordinary looking vehicle that was secretly heavily armored and fortified, having three other similar vehicles as decoys going to other notable locations, and Euphemia having to change into a different dress, one that would hide the armored vest he had given her to wear underneath.

And that last one was only because she was fortunate to have brought a dress that, coincidentally, did just that. Were it not for that stroke of fortune she would have had to wear it over the dress.

Once at the Foundation's local office, she met with Gabrielle Fernsby, one of their most senior members and the one she had chosen to lead the group, to recapitulate and discuss their situation and the problems they were having.

A little over a year ago, once she was confident that the Foundation had a stable enough reputation and sufficient financial backing, she sent out the group that would represent them in Area Eleven.

It was, without a doubt, their biggest undertaking yet. Despite the war having ended in short order due to the surrender of the then Japanese, that same act meant that many soldiers had gone to ground and that some people clearly did not feel as though they had truly lost yet. Though many bowed their heads in submission, just as many had chosen to continue the fight.

Uprisings, riots, and acts of terrorism, both minor and major, were sadly commonplace even if sporadic. Then, about three years ago, that began to change. Open acts of insurrection had lessened greatly across a large portion of the country, but that did little to change anything. Though the violence had lessened, many Elevens still refused to bow their heads.

Upon arriving in Area Eleven, the Foundation members divided into several groups spread across different regions, prioritizing towns and cities with either a high population of Numbers, or places that had yet to recover from the invasion. A few smaller groups were assigned to roam the countryside for smaller or isolated settlements, to later arrange the services or shipments necessary to help them.

Unfortunately, almost nothing that came afterwards had gone according to plan.

Meal centers and clinics were almost always the first step, providing simple meals, basic medical aid, and even a place to sleep at no cost and allowing their members to speak with the local Numbers.

Through speaking with them, they would gain an understanding of their most pressing needs. Whether it was more food supplies, clean water, medical aid, housing, employment, or perhaps even more specialized needs, additional information was always their primary goal beyond lending a helping hand.

Once they knew what was needed, they would plot out the necessary steps to provide all those, sending the plans to Euphemia along with an estimate of the costs and any other requests, such as more doctors and nurses, construction workers, teachers, or even farmers, such as that one rare occasion that their knowledge was needed to teach the locals as their own had perished in the fighting.

But this time, they faltered as early as the first step.

Despite how things appeared on the surface, very few people came to them in need of their services. And those few seemed to be incredibly mistrusting of them, refusing to speak of any further needs, whether for themselves or for others. Even though many employees of the Foundation were Numbers themselves, it would appear that the Elevens considered them the same as their Britannian employers due to being part of the Honorary Britannian system.

With Euphemia's blessing, Gabrielle made the decision to move on to the next step anyway. After all, their situation was much the same as other conquered Areas. Surely their needs were the same.

But when their people constructed shelters, proper ones and not the shoddy half-hearted ones built after the occupation, only a handful of Elevens would take up residence. In smaller locales, there would even be places that would not use them at all.

When they attempted to demolish the older buildings, especially those that were in danger of collapsing, the locals would band together to stop them. At one point, a fight had broken out, injuring three of the five who had been sent to check a building to prepare it for demolishing. They did not fight back, but that didn't seem to deter the Elevens at all. If not for Gabrielle's timely arrival with several others, the police, or worse, might have gotten involved, leading to escalation.

Meal centers still saw the occasional visit, but after a while they noticed that it was almost always the same people. Even after the first two months, there were barely a dozen newcomers and they only appeared once or twice before they stopped coming.

Their clinics only seemed to be a last resort for the Elevens who needed medical aid. Those who came by were people who have been ill for quite a long time already, seemingly visiting only when they had no other recourse, or those who were heavily injured and needing immediate aid. But when asked why they did not visit sooner or how they were injured, no answers were forthcoming.

Despite their frustration, however, they held fast to the Foundation's rules. They were not to utilize force, whether by physical or verbal means, for whatever reason save for self-defense. And even then, they are only to do the bare minimum needed to get to safety.

As such, no matter how much they wanted to, nobody so much as tried to force an answer out of the few Elevens who availed of their services, but always made sure to remind them that they were there to help.

There were those who came to them, sincerely wanting their aid for housing, employment, or even assistance with the Honorary Britannian system, yet they were few in number. In the year that they had been there, the office in Tokyo had only processed less than five hundred such people. In an area with such a large population of Numbers, they had expected thousands, or even tens of thousands flocking from nearby areas, and that was only the expectations for the first few months. That they had not even reached a four-digit number after a year was both disconcerting and concerning.

For a year, that was how things went. Some new faces were seen in the clinics and meal centers, but then others would stop appearing.

A Three in their employ, a former soldier and field medic, made note of the fact that their behavior seemed to be planned. For once that first group of familiar faces slowly stopped appearing, another took their place. Then yet another group did the same a few months later.

It was a fact that none of them really thought much of, even the man himself, as they had done no wrong. But now, with Zero having sprung up from the shadows, that one little note in the reports they were reviewing seemed to stand out so much more.

"Sir Guilford, what do you make of this?" she had asked the man accompanying her. After all, neither she nor Gabrielle were military-minded. If it was, indeed, something to do with the insurgents in the area, he was the most likely to realize at that moment.

In response, her sister's Knight had answered that the possibility was there, though the lack of information and any further movements made it difficult to say for certain.

Throughout the meeting, Ms. Lohmeyer had interjected, many times in fact, stating that their actions were pointless and wasted.

She had been ignored, for the most part, though Euphemia replied that she would continue on regardless of her objections.

That meeting went on for nearly two hours as they held a conference call with the representatives in other parts of the Area. Gabrielle's management skills were proven once again at that point. When Euphemia contacted Gabrielle to inform her of her arrival shortly before leaving Bellegarden, the latter had immediately made contact with the others to let them know that a meeting was highly likely and that they should make sure they were available for the next few days.

Most of the people who had come to them, they reported, were those who had applied, or wanted to apply, for the Honorary Britannian status. There were a fair number of them, but far, far lesser than in other Areas, even accounting for the differences is population.

Still, they did their best to provide for them, especially when it came to housing and employment. When asked, however, even those people said nothing regarding their fellow Elevens. But unlike the others who simply refused to speak, these people seemed mostly reluctant. It was likely that they were torn between repaying their benefactors with information, and betraying their countrymen.

After returning to the Viceroy's Palace, she sat down for yet another meeting with the civilian council. Half of them were noticeably unhappy, to say the least, that they had been called in for the second time in just as many days. Not to mention that they had only been sent word a few hours before the meeting itself. And if she hadn't heard wrong, at least two of them were grumbling about having to meet the Viceroy for dinner.

There were more than a few veiled insults thrown her way, but she had heard worse over the past two years and simply ignored them.

When the meeting was finally underway, most of them seemed to find even more fault with her proposal despite the fact that they had all agreed to those same terms the day before. Even Ms. Sumeragi had requested changes, stating that, after being able to give it more thought, her previous suggestions were still inappropriate for the current situation.

About the only good that happened was that Viscount Stadtfeld seemed content to just listen as he had not spoken more than a few dozen words all in all. And most of those were just him agreeing with the others when they asked for his opinion.

In the end, she only managed to placate them by explaining that she had already submitted the proposal to the Viceroy for approval, but that she would immediately draft and submit a new one in its place after the meeting, which she promptly did despite how much she disliked the changes.

She supposed this was what she got for insisting that they not disband the council.

And now, a few hours later, she was on her way to have dinner with both councils.

It wasn't a particularly formal affair, more akin to a business meeting than anything else, so she simply changed into a different dress after freshening up. Elegant and elaborate enough to match her status as a princess, formal enough to be taken seriously should a simple meet-and-greet dinner lead to more serious talks, and simple enough that she wouldn't look like she was attending some sort of special occasion.

The dinner itself, however, wasn't what was causing her to worry. Well, it wasn't the only thing that was causing her to worry.

Right after stepping out of the car, she froze in place much like her sister beside her, resisting the urge to palm her face and curse her lack of attention along the way. If she had paid even the slightest attention, she would have realized that the armored car they had taken was essentially retracing her earlier route to the Caritas Foundation's office.

In fact, glancing to the side, she saw the aforementioned office just three buildings down. And glancing down the other way, she could make out the beginnings of the ghetto.

Just as she wanted to curse her lack of attention, she knew for a fact that her sister was very likely to curse their brother as the unexpected venue was doubtlessly his doing.

Why?

For one thing, the restaurant before them was a far cry from the 'nice classy restaurant with armored walls and bulletproof glass' that Gino mentioned looking for last night. It wasn't a hole-in-the-wall sort of thing, thank God, but it definitely wasn't a place even most low ranking Britannian noblemen would likely step into. And that wasn't just because it was more akin to a casual family restaurant.

Oh no. It was never that simple when it came to Lelouch and his ideas.

The restaurant itself was one that served Eleven cuisine. The name, "Matsushiro's" was clearly an Eleven name even when written in English. It certainly didn't help that the name was also written in the Eleven's language underneath it. Or, at least, she assumed that's what those strange stick characters meant. The architecture and décor was also a distinct mix of Britannian and Eleven styles but leaning more towards the latter.

And right outside the wide open sliding doors, which seemed to be made of some sort of paper, interestingly enough, was Gino. Despite standing with textbook perfect posture and his uniform looking completely pristine, his eyes looked completely stressed, harried, and downright exhausted. Upon seeing them, she noted a hint of relief appear in his crystal blue eyes followed immediately by a brief expression of apology.

Was it bad of her to be thankful that she wasn't the only one who seemed to be having a rough day?

"I take it he is already inside?" Cornelia asked with just a hint of exasperation.

"He is, your Highness," Gino replied with a brief bow of greeting. They were in public, so proper decorum was expected despite how they behaved behind closed doors. "My apologies for the venue. The… choice was taken out of my hands at the last moment. However, I made sure to reserve the entire second floor for our use to ensure some measure of privacy. I've also had our soldiers, as well as some of those we've already vetted from the local garrison, posted inside and around the area in both uniform and plainclothes."

"I suppose that's the best we can manage on short notice. Good work." Euphemia noted the slight drop of his shoulders in relief at her sister's words. "Guilford, wait here with Sir Weinberg. I've no doubt our… guests will be quite troublesome when they arrive."

"Understood, your Highness."

Sir Guilford took his place outside the doors opposite Gino, who looked even more relieved. No doubt he had anticipated the same problems that were to come and was glad for the assistance. For all that he was the new Viceroy's Royal Guard Captain, his reputation was far lesser than the man known as the Empire's Spearhead. It wouldn't surprise Euphemia if the military and civilian council gave him far less respect than his station was due simply because of his lack of accomplishments and reputation.

With a quiet but heavy sigh, Cornelia, dressed in her military uniform, began to march inside. "Let's get this over with," she muttered softly, just barely audible to Euphemia's ears.

Euphemia wasn't sure what to expect as they stepped through the open doors.

A mostly empty restaurant perhaps? After all, it was a restaurant that was located in an area populated more by Britannians than Numbers yet openly featured the Eleven's style.

Or perhaps it would be full of Numbers without a single Britannian in sight?

Cornelia walked right past the hostess's stand just inside the doors, as well as the completely shell-shocked Eleven standing behind it, to whom Euphemia quickly offered an apology to before following her sister.

After walking through a short hallway, they came to the main dining area where she found several groups of Britannians casually dining with their families or friends. From their clothing alone she divined that they were of the middle class, likely those employed in the surrounding area. What's more, even the most well-dressed among them did not dress well enough to be a noble.

Some turned in their direction, surprised to see them. Had they been recognized? Or was it simply their style of dress? They were quite overdressed for the venue, after all.

A quick glare from Cornelia put an end to that. Whether they were recognized or not, her sister was simply the sort of person who could project such a menacing aura with just a look. Being in her military uniform probably helped a lot.

Off to one side, there were two tables of Elevens. But what caught her attention was that, despite the restaurant they were in, the Elevens seemed to be trying to hide, doing their best not to attract attention. One table, the one that had already been served their meal, seemed to be in a hurry. Yet, rather than their watches or the clock, their eyes constantly looked towards the Britannians around them as though afraid they would be noticed at any moment.

She had expected as much, but a part of her wept. Were not Honorary Britannians considered equal to Britannians in the eyes of the law? And yet they were treated as second-class citizens by the nobility simply for not being born a true Britannian. And while the Britannian commoners tended to be just a little bit more accepting, there were still many among them who reveled in having people whose status was below theirs.

And even if they were not part of the Honorary Britannian system, were they not still people just like them? Did they not deserve to be treated humanely at the very least?

As though to punctuate that thought, she saw a Britannian man reaching out and palming an Eleven waitress's behind, not even bothering to hide his misdemeanors even in a public venue. Those around him either watched and laughed as the young woman yelped and futilely tried to move away or jeered and taunted her, claiming it was a privilege that a Number like her was even considered worth molesting.

The two tables of Elevens saw this. Most turned away almost immediately. A few grit their teeth and curled their fists. Yet, in the end, even they relented and turned away from the horrible display.

Euphemia bit her lip to prevent herself from speaking up. As much as she wanted to do something, the past two years had taught her much about the true face of Britannian politics. Or, rather, Britannian culture. Stepping in to help the poor young woman would not actually help her very much. Even if she helped her against her current offenders, that did not mean she had actually solved anything.

What about later on when other patrons came in to dine? Or tomorrow? It may not even be someone else. The same people she would scare off may even come back another day. If they were the grudgeful sort, they may even do worse just because they failed once, even if the young woman was not responsible for their failure.

She needed to root out the problem. Otherwise anything she did would be just curing the symptoms. A temporary measure that merely prolonged the real disease.

"…ers of this, eight of this, and hmm… ah, we might as well. We'll have twenty-two orders of each of these three for dessert. Yes, that should be more than enough."

She was brought out of her thoughts by her brother's voice as they ascended the stairs to the second floor of the restaurant. A part of her envied how carefree he sounded, yet was saddened at the heavy cost he paid to become such a person.

Sitting at the head of a rather large rectangular table, which looked to be several smaller tables lined up together, was Lelouch himself, the new Viceroy of Area Eleven. And standing next to him, was a fairly well-dressed, brown-haired Eleven woman who couldn't have been older than Cornelia, holding a pen and a small writing pad with trembling hands as she wrote down the orders as Lelouch pointed them out on the menu he was holding.

"Do you recommend any- Oh, Nelly and Euphie are here!"

At that moment, Euphemia saw the relief in the Eleven's eyes as she promptly bowed, muttered something she couldn't hear, and left, taking advantage of Lelouch's distraction to leave. Cornelia barely spared the woman a glance, but Euphemia took a glance as she passed them and descended the stairs, noting the name 'Akane Matsushiro' on her name tag.

She was either a relative of the owner, or maybe even the owner herself. Hopefully their surprise visit hadn't caused her too much trouble.

Euphemia walked over to the table and, at her sister's silent yet apologetic urging, took the seat to Lelouch's right even as Cornelia sat opposite her to Lelouch's left. Hopefully dinner passed quickly enough so she could put an end to one of the most stressful days she had ever experienced.

Holding up a pair of plastic sticks, one in each hand, Lelouch gave it a curious look then turned to his sisters in turn. "Are we supposed to stab our food with these? What about the noodles I ordered, that shacu raman or something?"

Euphemia took a deep, shuddering breath to steady herself, repressing the urge to cry. It was going to be a long night.

'I stand corrected. It's going to be a very long night.'

Barely halfway through the meal and Euphemia was already wishing she could feign illness if it meant ending the dinner. Her stomach had been rolling around with anxiety even before the meal began but had refused to take that one final step to give her an excuse to leave.

The tightness of Cornelia's jaw meant she was feeling somewhat the same.

At a small table near the stairs, the only way up to where they were dining, sat Guilford and Gino, the latter of whom looked incredibly high-strung as he occasionally glanced at their table, watching the night's proceedings with barely concealed anxiety.

Seeing that he had barely eaten half the admittedly wonderful food they were served, she almost felt sorry for him. After all, normally they would just be standing guard the whole night. It was only Lelouch's insistence that they even sat down to eat, though they had taken turns so as to have someone on guard at all times.

Then she remembered that she was at ground zero while he was merely observing from a short but safe distance. At that point, all her sympathy flew out the window.

That's what their table was after all. Ground Zero for what could very well be the biggest disaster yet since their arrival. Even more than the failed assassination attempt.

To her right were the members of the civilian council, with Kaguya Sumeragi sitting directly beside her. Across from them, to Cornelia's left, were the members of the military council.

It had been clear from the moment they arrived that all of them, save for Ms. Sumeragi herself, were severely displeased by the venue. The way their eyes had focused on Lelouch with such vitriol, even if only for a brief moment before the flatteries and boot-licking began, made her worry for her brother.

"Ah! Welcome everyone. Glad you could all make it." And yet, as he usually did, he failed to notice and went on to greet them all with cordial words and a beaming smile. The only one among the military council that Euphemia knew was General Bartley. The rest were familiar in that she had read their dossiers briefly, but she couldn't recall their names off the top of her head as she had focused her attention on those she would be interacting with directly.

The military officers, who had already experienced their Viceroy's… peculiarities… during their first meeting with him the day before, merely gave him their own gruff but respectful greetings in turn before taking a seat at the table.

Sadly, the civilian council had yet to be… introduced to her brother and had found themselves uncertain as to how to behave despite his warm welcome.

Well… save for one of them anyway.

Kaguya Sumeragi had recovered quite quickly, giving her brother the proper courtesies as required and introducing herself after only a brief pause of surprise. That had given the others time to recover and then promptly do the same.

Once they were all seated – Ms. Sumeragi ending up with the seat next to Euphemia as the others all but fought for the seats farthest away from the Viceroy – the nervous Eleven servers came up to fill their glasses and place small dishes of appetizers in front of them. Then, once they left, Lelouch's first question, aimed at the young Sumeragi, caused her to nearly palm her face regardless of who might see.

"Where are your rabbit ears? Are you hiding them?"

Ms. Sumeragi, after clearing the confusion with a few questions, seemed to understand. With a pleasant smile that seemed quite genuine, she very briefly reiterated a story called 'The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter', sometimes called 'The Tale of Princess Kaguya' she added, and explained that, no, she was not the princess in the tale, and that the story about the moon hare had little to no connection to it beyond the moon playing a part in the tale.

When several servers came up the stairs, bearing the food that Lelouch had ordered for them all, Euphemia was relieved as it had prevented her brother from asking yet another question, no doubt something to do about the moon hare that Ms. Sumeragi had mentioned.

But then, he chose to bring about a different calamity.

As soon as the bowls filled with noodles, slices of meat, a boiled egg with a light brown surface, and an assortment of vegetables and mushrooms, all sitting in a steaming, aromatic broth, was placed before them all - with two bowl being brought over for Sirs Guilford and Weinberg at his insistence - Lelouch made a surprising declaration.

"Take these away," he immediately said to the waitress just as she and her co-workers were about to leave, handing her the steel cutlery that were on the table. "Take them all away from our table. Since we're in an Eleven restaurant, we should enjoy the meals the same way the Elevens do."

Over half the table stared at the prince, completely slack-jawed and speechless, while others seemed insulted that he wanted them to 'dine like uncivilized savages', as one of the military officers muttered angrily, heedless of the fact that one such 'savage' was dining with them.

Unfortunately, Lelouch's word was, for all intents and purposes, as good as law while in Area Eleven, outweighed only by the Emperor. And it was doubtful that he even knew what was going on, let alone be concerned enough to actually countermand the order.

And so, with numerous and repetitive apologies as they did so, the restaurant employees nervously took away the familiar eating utensils, leaving them all with two plastic sticks and a strangely shaped spoon.

"Now then." Everyone tensed when Lelouch spoke again, now beginning to realize that there was at least some truth to his epithet of 'Mad Prince'. "How do we eat with these?"

It had taken the black-haired Eleven among them a moment to realize that he had been addressing her. And, despite how normally unflappable she was, even she looked quite nervous as she glanced around the table, seeing the intense looks the other council members were giving her as they awaited her response. Even Cornelia was giving her quite the hard look. The kind that could make even the most hardened soldier tremble.

But as much as she clearly did not want to offend those at the table by having them learn to eat the way Elevens did, the Viceroy had spoken and offending him was certainly much worse. At the very least, he would likely, possibly, maybe, protect her from reprisal as long as she did as he asked.

And so, swallowing the lump that had formed in the back of her throat, she gave a small, apologetic bow of her head to everyone else. She turned to the Viceroy, a tense smile plastered on her face, and began to instruct him, and everyone else at the table, on how to use the 'chopsticks'.

What followed was, needless to say, an utter disaster. The noodles refused to be gripped longer than a moment, sliding off the smooth surface of the chopsticks before they were even raised more than a few centimeters above the rim of the bowl. The larger pieces of food, while a little bit easier, slipped and fell back into the bowl, splattering their clothing with the aromatic broth. Even attempting to use the 'spoon' did little to help beyond draining the soup so that anything that fell in made less of a mess.

In one case, one of the young men on the civilian council had gripped too hard. When the sticks had gotten misaligned as a result, the slice of pork he had picked up flipped off the chopsticks then arced over and across the table straight onto the dress shirt of the military man across from him, the steaming hot slice of pork only missing the man's face as he had leaned back in surprise. If looks could kill the young nobleman might have died a dozen times over at that moment.

Among them, it was Viscount Stadtfeld who seemed to have the least difficulty, though not by much. At the very least, he was much more patient and cautious, moving slowly and very deliberately. Not that it amounted to much in the end, but he was still on the better end of the scale.

As delicious as the food turned out to be – what little made it into her mouth at any rate – the entire experience was undeniably soured by their less than dexterous handling of the unfamiliar dining implements. It was all made worse by the fact that Ms. Sumeragi's deft and well-practiced handling of the chopsticks, which continued even as she answered Lelouch's questions, made them look like the 'uncivilized savages' instead.

Some had glowered at her for their current predicament, blaming her for agreeing to 'teach' them the ways of the Elevens. A few at the far end of the table and even glanced angrily at the table occupied by Sirs Guilford and Weinberg, no doubt envious of the fact that they had been allowed to keep their set of spoons and forks. But every single council member, bar Ms. Sumeragi, had sent at least one hate-filled glare at the young man responsible for their shame.

And yet he didn't even seem to care or notice, busy as he was trying to eat his own meal while conversing happily. He had a little more success than the rest of them, possibly because he had gone as far as reaching across in front of Euphemia to let the teenage Eleven position the chopsticks and his fingers for him, much to their collective surprise and, mainly for the council members, disgust.

And all throughout the meal, Lelouch continued to happily, and obliviously, chat with the Sumeragi head about inane topics, mostly centered around Eleven culture.

"So she's not real?" he asked despondently, punctuated by the slice of meat that fell from his chopsticks, once against splattering the soup onto the surroundings and even his clothes.

In contrast, Ms. Sumeragi had just swallowed a mouthful of noodles, looking quite dainty and graceful the entire time. "No, your Highness. Yamato Nadeshiko isn't the name of a woman, much less one who has lived for a long time, but is the term used to describe the ideal Ja- Eleven woman. It's not a title that is given to just one person in particular, but any woman who possesses the traits Elevens find most desirable."

Lelouch looked quite put out by the response, a childish pout appearing on his face. "Ah, and there I was thinking you Elevens somehow found the secret to eternal youth. I even thought for a moment that it might have been you. You do seem to fit the part after all."

Had she just... seen a blush? On young Kaguya's face? Euphemia shut her eyes and shook that thought out of her head. No, that couldn't have been right. She must have been seeing things.

"If the Elevens did know of the secret, I was hoping to learn it and maybe give it as a gift to the old man." Leaning forward and positioning his hand as though to hide his mouth from Cornelia, he whispered, quite loudly, as if speaking some great secret. "He's getting quite old you know."

Despite the horrifically informal form of address he had used for their sovereign, one that made the council members stare at him in shock, the young Sumeragi instead raised a hand to cover her mouth, muffling the soft giggling that erupted though she could not conceal it completely. But just as soon as she did, she seemed to realize just what she had done.

Her eyes widened in surprise even as she quickly stamped down on her amusement and erased any trace of it from her face. The hand that had been daintily covering her mouth was now pressed flat against her tightly shut lips. The dark blush on her face, however, gave away her embarrassment at having done such a thing, just as her expression paled.

Understandable. After all, laughing at the Emperor was no small offense. Many had been executed for far less.

Still, unlike earlier, much of the tension in her tone and posture had faded away. At this point, anyone watching might think that she and Lelouch were close friends.

Unfortunately, the only people watching were her, her sister, the two Knights by the stairs, and the council members, the latter of which were growing more and more outraged and disgusted from what she could see.

If the head of the Sumeragi family had any friends, or even allies, among them, then Euphemia wouldn't be surprised if at least one of them cut ties with her tonight or sometime soon. Even if only out of self-preservation.

And from the way Cornelia cleared her throat, quite loudly at that, it seemed even she was far too fed up with things as well. "Lelouch," she began, garnering all attention to her in that instant. "Earlier, you said you had an announcement to make. Since most of us are… finished… with our meal, I believe now would be a good time to speak."

In that instant, all the hate-filled looks turned into ones of gratitude and hopefulness, directly mostly towards Cornelia. Even the young woman besides her was filled with gratitude for distracting everyone from her possibly fatal faux pas.

"Oh, that," Lelouch exclaimed with a snap of his fingers, as though having forgotten about it until now. Then, with a glance around the table, he frowned. "But… most of your bowls are still half full. Are you su-"

"Yes, your Highness!"

The way that every single member of the councils has responded in perfect unison would have been amusing, dare she say, even hilarious, had she not felt the same way.

"Well, alright." Though he conceded, he still looked quite put out.

Picking up the large envelop on the table, one that was now almost completely soaked in broth, he pulled out several sets of documents and handed half of them to her and the other half to Cornelia. Seeing that there were multiple sets, they began to pass the other copies to those next to them. This was repeated until everyone held a copy in their hands. Thankfully, Lelouch seemed to have kept the one copy at the top, the one that had soaked up all the broth that had spilled on the envelope.

As they did this, the black-haired prince addressed them in a serious tone. "I have here the various plans submitted by both councils earlier today. After going through them all, I have decided to expedite the implementation of some of these plans in order to quickly deal with our most pressing matters. After all, we cannot move forward if we have an enemy at our backs."

Euphemia wasn't surprised that they had already come up with a plan for dealing with Zero. If there was anyone in Britannia who could be trusted to swiftly resolve such a situation, it would be her sister.

So then… why did she, and all the military officers, look so perplexed, glancing at one another, shaking their heads, and shrugging their shoulders as though they didn't know what Lelouch was talking about?

With a feeling of dread, she began to peruse the documents in her hands, her expression slowly morphing into horror and her complexion growing pallid with each line.

"This… this is…"

This wasn't what she had submitted earlier.

She scanned through the first page again. No, this most definitely was not what she had submitted earlier.

The sections on the documents pertaining to the civilian side of things were almost all completely wrong. None of them were the revised plans she had submitted that afternoon. Or even the one she had submitted that morning. There were vague similarities, yes, but that was all.

In fact, now that she looked closer, the written plans were actually much closer to what she had originally wanted to enact. But rather than moving towards a compromise with the nobles, it had moved in the opposite direction. If her initial proposal was considered 'too much' or 'too fast' by the civilian council, then Lelouch's changes could only be described as…

"THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!"

… that.

Slamming his hands on the table, Marquess Bolton, the highest ranking noble at the table barring the royal siblings, rose to his feet, his expression twisted in fury and his mustache practically bristling. "Your Highness, you may be the Viceroy but surely you are aware that ordering private investigators unaffiliated with the government to enter our factories, even going so far as having them escorted by government soldiers and allowing them unrestricted access, is not something one can just do. Those factories are built on private property. There are proper channels and procedures that mus-"

"Wait, so the land and the buildings belong to you? They aren't public property?" Lelouch asked, eyes wide open as though he had just been told something surprising.

That, in turn, seemed to surprise the marquess as he stumbled over his words. "Wh… Y-Yes. Yes, that's precisely true, your Highness." Already, Euphemia could see how his expression and posture relaxed, realizing that the young man before him had acted in haste, thus leading to a mistake. He grew more confident as he realized this, standing taller and looking more domineering despite addressing royalty. "I can have the paperwork brought to you in the morning, or even later tonight if you so wish. Then we can surely put this misunderstanding behi-"

"But, I thought everything belonged to the Emperor?" Lelouch once again cut in, looking just as innocent as he did earlier. "At least, that what I was taught, yes? That all things in the empire belong to him?"

"We-well, y-yes," he stammered in response, the unexpected line of queries disrupting the flow of the conversation. "B-but you see, w-"

"And I'm the Viceroy, right?" Pulling out a small book that she recognized as a pocket dictionary, albeit one that was larger and thicker than most, she watched with rapt fascination as he thumbed through the pages to a section near the end. Through years of exposure to his madness, Euphemie felt confident that she could predict where her brother was taking this line of thought – and wasn't that a horrifying thought in itself? – even as he found the page he was searching for. "See? It says so right here. 'Viceroy, one who exercises authority in a colony on behalf of a sovereign'."

He held out the book, as though expecting the man near the other end of the table to read it from a distance. "So since the land in Area Eleven belongs to the Emperor, it technically belongs to me while I'm the Viceroy unless the old man says otherwise. Doesn't that means you're technically the one trespassing on my land since I don't remember giving you permission to build anything there."

"Wha- Y-your Highness, this is most un-"

"Gino, you heard the man earlier, correct?" The blonde, who had been staring at the situation, suddenly jumped when he was addressed, visibly cringing when everyone turned their attention to him. "Does that count as a confession? Can we arrest him now?"

"Wha… WHAT?!"

She was horrible. She was most definitely a horrible human being. The absolute worst. Despite knowing that his actions would have severe consequences down the line, Euphemia was, for some reason, enjoying the sight of Lelouch's madness inconveniencing someone else for a change.

She was sure that the only reason a smile had yet to grace her face was because the other things she had read on the document before Marquess Bolton's outburst distracted her were just as bad, if not worse. And, judging by how pale more than half of the collective council had become, they had already seen what else was to come.

"I'm afraid that we cannot arrest him despite his… confession," Cornelia cut in. Was it just her imagination or was that a tiny, almost imperceptible, upward quirk of her lips she had seen appear for a split second on her sister's face? "Lord Bolton is correct in that there are proper procedures that must be followed, lest we ourselves become guilty of subverting the law for our own gains."

"Thank you, your Highness," the man said with great relief and gratitude. "Perha-"

And yet, once again, he found himself interrupted. "However," she began, the sharp look in her eyes bringing to bear a great pressure aimed directly at the nobleman as she held up a mobile phone with a message displayed on it. "I have just received a message regarding the... abysmal working conditions at a local factory, one of yours in fact. I'll spare you the details, but there is more than enough evidence to have you temporarily detained while a proper investigation is underway."

The last part had no doubt been addressed to Lelouch as well, but Cornelia had refrained from so much as glancing in his direction. After all, they needed to appear united regardless of what they thought or felt. Since they were in public, this was definitely one of those times.

As though Cornelia had planned it, two soldiers came up the stairs and approached the flummoxed nobleman the moment she had finished speaking.

"Marquess Edmond Bolton," the one on the right began, a major if she wasn't mistaken looking at his insignia. "We have orders to escort you to the Viceroy's Palace for detainment. We ask that you come quietly. We are authorized to utilize force if necessary."

Succinct and direct, the soldier's voice brooked no argument despite the fact that he was addressing such a high-ranking noble. Then again, the order had likely come from Cornelia herself. Between a princess, Britannia's Field Marshal at that, and a marquess, there was no contest.

Even so…

"You… You dare?!" roared the Marquess, shoving asides his seat as he spun to address the soldiers, the wooden piece of furniture crashing into others like it off to the side. "Are you two buffoons aware of exactly who I am?! I am-"

"A man who could very well be facing criminal charges," finished Cornelia, who sat rigidly and spoke with a stern and unyielding tone. "I suggest following proper protocol and allowing yourself to be detained. That is... Unless you wish to add to the list of charges before the crime has even been determined? After all, if the investigation turns up nothing incriminating then you'll have lost nothing but the time it took to us search."

The unspoken threats were clear to all, and nobody, not even the other military officers seated at the table, dared to so much as meet the gaze of either the princess or the marquess. None of them even dared to countermand the order even when the nobleman glanced at them meaningfully.

Evidently, the man knew when he was beaten and refrained from speaking any further. He directed one final glare directed at Lelouch, who ignored him as he had returned to finishing his meal at some point during the altercation. Or... trying, at least. Seeing that only seemed to enrage the man further, but he successfully held himself back. Somehow.

The marquess huffed angrily and stomped away. The two soldiers were wise enough to not attempt to physically apprehend the man, merely escorting him on either side as he made his way downstairs and out.

She could almost imagine the utter confusion everyone downstairs must be experiencing even as the sound of his angry footsteps faded. Replacing it was the loud and very rude sound of slurping as they all turned to see Lelouch sucking in several long strands of noodles from a near empty bowl, the last dregs of broth clinging to it flying every which way.

Her hand rose to her cheek, wiping away a few droplets that found their way there. At this point, she didn't even really care anymore.

Leaning back and slouching in his seat, Lelouch smiled happily and let out a contented sigh. Then, seeing everyone's attention on him, he sat up and asked, "Shall I call for the desserts to be served?"

The sound of flesh meeting flesh reached Euphemia's ears. It only registered afterwards that it had been her hand and her face that had met.

'Please let this be a nightmare.'

And it was only when she felt a small, feminine hand, gently rubbing her back that she realized she had not kept her thoughts to herself.

Poor, poor Euphie. Not even a few days and already things are falling apart. XD

Honestly, this chapter blew up more than I expected it to. By at least 50% of the expected word count in truth. Hopefully it didn't come off as too bloated, but there had just been no good stopping point for most of the scenes.

This was heavy on the exposition and Euphie's perspective on things but I hope it was enjoyable all the same.

No promises when the next chapter will come out but I'll do my best to make sure I update this at least twice more before the end of the year.

Also, at the suggestion and urging of a friend, I finally relented and made a Kofi account. Now, I told myself years ago I would never setup a P-treon account or anything similar but… well… that little promise didn't age all that well. And neither did the economy for that matter.

Anyway, I chose Kofi since it's more akin to a tip jar. Nobody is obligated to do anything. I don't put myself on a tight schedule to update nor do I hold my stories 'hostage'. And readers don't have to pay anything if they don't want to. So don't feel as though you have to because I'm in dire financial straits. I'm not, by the way. Things are a bit tight but I'm not in the red or anything.

All in all, it's just there as a little extra for me if there are people who feel my stories are worth a tip.

Ko-fi (dotcom) (slash) leiciel

Anyway, that aside, please leave a review letting me know what you all think.

Until next time everyone.