A/N: As nonsensical as this story is, I still want to thank you for reading it, for adding it to your faves, and for following. Thank you so much Command Unit, The221, Akira-Hayama, Freudentraene, Euryphaessa Gray, void242, my Guest reviewer, wootanin, and Genesis09 for leaving thoughts on the last installment.

Lelouch gets emotional when it concerns people he love. And we all know, emotions throw wits out the window in the worst of times.

Also, I've been getting suggestions about crossovers with other TV series like Stranger Things, and as much as I would like to (and would say that the possibilities are endless), I don't think I could do that at the moment. I haven't seen Stranger Things yet XD (Throw stones!)

Anyways, please continue to stay safe from the virus everyone! :)

The New Heirs

"A long time ago, there lived a wealthy merchant's daughter who loved her seaside home in Volantis very very much…"

This wealthy merchant's daughter had her home and her name stolen from her. On the day when everything fell apart, her mother had bid her run. And run she did… Only to end up right back to where it all began; this time, in the care of an aunt and an uncle who had little regard for taking her father's kin under her wing.

"What happened after?" He asked quietly, tenderly clearing the side of her face of messy strands of sweat-soaked hair.

"They needed more money to sustain the opulent lifestyle they stole from my family, so they decided on selling me."

"Sell you to the House of Black and White?"

The candle light flickered eerily in her bullion irises when she tilted her face upwards to look at him. Shaking her head, she resumed distracting herself by tracing random patterns along his chest — all manner of whorls, straight lines, curves, and zigzags.

"To one of the pleasure houses of Lys."

"Were you brought there?"

"I gave them much trouble." Grinning, she shifted on the bed, so their faces were aligned and their noses touched. "They chased me through the streets. I just count myself lucky to have not had more than seven men after me. I was so afraid, so I hid in a ship and fell asleep. I awoke at dawn, I believe, and realized my fair city was naught but a tiny dot in the distance.

"The men were headed for Braavos. I wandered for a fortnight, too afraid to sail home. But even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I had no money — no clothes except for the ones I wore. And no one wanted to give a dirty green-haired girl any jobs, except for the less-savory choice of selling my body — which I didn't want.

"I took shelter in front of a pair of black-and-white doors of the temple of the many-faced god. It provided good cover from the rain, one night. Until one day the white door opened, and a waif stepped out to ask what my business was. I told them I didn't know. I told them I was hungry.

"'A girl must serve if she wants to eat,' she said. I didn't know what it meant. But I was dying, so I followed when she brought me in. Years later, they deemed me unworthy, expelled me from the Order, and I was on the run with my life again… I found myself in Westeros, and after hearing of a particular young Prince's stark achievements, decided I wanted to serve under him.

"He has never lost a battle, they said. He was skilled at suppressing rebellion, and never shied away from danger. I decided if I was going to serve someone to survive, I might as well do so for one of the most powerful and capable men in the continent.

"And now I'm here. I've done quite well for myself, wouldn't you say?"

He rewarded her question with a sly little smile and a sultry kiss — their lips melding together, tongues twining as he held her chin. One of his hands wandered south, and she didn't protest when he pushed one leg aside. The lips she loved to kiss traveled lower as well, paying special attention to the curve of her jaw, the delicate jut at her clavicle, and lower still to the valley between her breasts.

And no matter how many times they did this, how many times they lost themselves in one another, her heart always quickened in pace. It wasn't because of the constant motion. The romantic part of her liked to think there was simply no other man who could make her heart tremble.

"My Circe…"

"My Lelouch."

vVvVv

Balanced between Gino Weinberg and Bismarck Waldstein, Odysseus eu Britannia heaved and grunted with much effort. The two knights panted as they wrested their trembling Emperor to-be away from the doors of the outer walls that led to the rioting crowd beyond. He could still hear the shouts and the shrieks and the scraping of steel as the Gold Cloaks worked to subdue the unrest.

Momentarily safe within the outer walls, servants were running every which way, and soldiers were grabbing weapons.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted his sisters trembling. Guinevere clutched her cloak tighter around her, and Carine was bawling her eyes out. What remained of his late father's consorts were ushered into the inner keep by the guards. The lords and ladies that joined the Emperor's funeral and had been part of the processional were a mess. Some of the men still had their weapons drawn, and the women were sobbing or simply staring into empty space — visibly shaken from the near-death experience they all just shared.

In the midst of the chaos, Odysseus heard his own voice shout for some refreshment — water or wine, it didn't matter. He needed something to soothe his nerves.

It happened far too quickly. The side of his face still bore the evidence that started the riot. He didn't have to look at the smears that came away on his fingers to know what they were.

You only had to smell the manure and the piss to know it was there. Someone apparently thought it funny to chuck their chamber pot at their new Emperor.

Not even crowned yet, and now he had this to deal with.

"Call for a meeting of the small council, immediately." Odysseus wheezed, accepting a damp handkerchief from his squire as he wiped his face in a vain attempt to look presentable.

vVvVv

"Insolent fools! All of them. We ought to have them hanged, drawn, and quartered!"

Odysseus watched his sister seethe in all her finery as she paced the length of the Small Council chamber. The rest of the members present looked equally haggard and frazzled. Due to the urgency of the meeting, none had the luxury of changing clothes yet. So Lord Shin Hyuga Shaing of Dorne still wore the wrinkled mourning clothes he'd donned at the Sept during the funeral service. And Lord Bismarck Waldstein's snow white cloak frayed at the ends and turned khaki from the mud and gore.

All except the Princess Guinevere, that is. After the riot in the streets, her guards and handmaidens whisked her away to bathe and change out of her damaged clothes.

"Sister, please. They are our people. However they may have acted can be excused for—"

"Pardon me, Brother. But what they have done is tantamount to treason. If the punishment for treason among the highborn is beheading, how severely should treason be dealt with among the lowest of the low, do you think?" Guinevere's eyes narrowed fiercely as she stopped pacing, lifted her chin in defiance, and stared Bismarck in the eyes. "They struck their would-be Emperor, and dared to harm the nobility that keeps them fed. Have the Knights of the Round and the gold cloaks round up 70 peasants."

"For questioning, your Highness?" The Grand Maester squeaked in a quivering voice, and Guinevere resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"The Red Keep dungeons are teeming with rebels. We can't very well punish every citizen in King's Landing. We don't know their names and their faces. Set an example for others who would dare try again. Hang 70 people. This sort of execution is merciful enough."

"But we have another execution for the rebels scheduled in the next 7 days. We're putting many people to death lately." Odysseus commented, clasping his hands below his chin as he stared solemnly at the surface of the table. "What do you suppose our father would have done?"

"Late Emperor Charles zi Britannia would never balk at this. Every traitor must die. Those imbeciles have risen up against us, and it is our duty to put them in their places. You need to remind them why they are what they are, and why they should revere you." Guinevere stared at her older brother and saw the face of a man who was unsure of what to do.

Odysseus had always been gentle. He was soft and tender and an extreme pacifist. She knew he wanted peace. Twas a noble wish. But she regretted to say that their Crown Prince lacked the ruthlessness necessary to hold a tattered Empire together. How she wished for Schneizel's presence at this very moment. He would have known what to do. He would have acted decisively and quickly and shrewdly.

Alas, he was in the North… Clovis rode for the Riverlands with his best generals to subdue their other siblings' rebellion. The Lords are choosing sides. The Realm is in absolute anarchy. They didn't need the common people to turn against them too.

"We'll put 40 men to death, not 70, to set an example." Lord Waldstein spoke up resolutely, exercising his authority as Hand. "I believe that would send a sufficient message."

"Very well." Guinevere sighed and finally claimed her seat, glancing at her sullen brother pointedly. "What of Lelouch?" She spat.

"Prince Clovis has him at the Trident." Lord Shin nodded once. "We have other concerns. Spies report a Dornish armada has dropped anchor at the Reach."

"Dornish…" Odysseus trailed off hesitantly, fixing blue eyes on Lord Shin Hyuuga. He was the Dornish Lord of the Small Council. He was supposed to represent the interests of the Dornish Princes — the men who ruled the land of sands and scorching sun.

Lord Shin grimaced. "It seems Prince Suzaku has gone around his father's back and took his war ships to sail for the Reach."

"Is Genbu Kururugi aware of this?" Bismarck asked in a gruff voice, eyes narrowing to thin slits as the wrinkles on his tanned skin deepened in prominence.

"I've written to him, my Lord — as Lord Shin instructed beforehand." The Grand Maester replied. "I have received no raven."

"As much as I loathe to consider the possible treason of mine own homeland, I serve the Crown first and foremost." Lord Shin declared dramatically, earning him the attention of everyone present at the table. "We'll assume Prince Suzaku Kururugi is headed to King's Landing to lay siege to our capital."

"Oh not him too." Odysseus lamented. "There's no bad blood between House Britannia and House Kururugi, why would Dorne raise its banners against us—?"

Guinevere's glower could have beheaded men. It seems their little brother had a talent for turning children against their parents. First Lord Stadtfeld's daughter from Casterly Rock, and now Dorne?

"There is no animosity between our two houses, but there is strife happening within our own family. Lelouch shares a tight friendship with Suzaku. In events like this where our father's children are squabbling for the Throne, which Britannian Prince do you think Suzaku would ally himself with?"

No one deigned to speak up to the Princess — not even Odysseus. Anyone who'd lived in King's Landing the day Lady Marianne gave birth to her son would know that Prince Lelouch had befriended Prince Suzaku — the little Dornish noble fostered at King's Landing for a good 8 years.

"The boy loves our half-sister, Euphemia. And Lelouch has Euphemia with him."

"In any case, his oaths compel him to serve the Realm, and not the usurper." Grand Maester reasoned, as if that would fix everything.

Princess Guinevere's smile was cruel. "When my father was crowned Emperor, Genbu Kururugi was the one who came and swore fealty. Suzaku wasn't even born yet. I have reason to believe the boy could use that as an excuse to take the side of his friend rather than the Crown."

"We're surrounded by traitors." Bismarck sighed dismally.

Odysseus looked like he'd lost all hope of ever ruling a continent in shambles. And truth be told, Guinevere was tired of watching her brother mope. He'd shone with resolve and determination when he told her and Carine about their father's passing. But that courage was feeble and fleeting. Now all she saw was plain old Odysseus and his love for books. Their Crown Prince had never seen and never so much as handled military campaigns (that fell on Schneizel, Lelouch, or Cornelia), and neither did Guinevere.

But bugger all the seven hells if she would stand by and watch her older brother squirm in that giant Iron Throne.

"In any case, Lord Shin, I need you to oversee siege preparations. Because the Reach declared for my younger brother, let's not expect provisions from them to aid our war." Guinevere declared, and Lord Shin nodded in agreement.

"Grand Maester, send your fastest ravens to the Houses who haven't declared for the rebel Prince. Write that this is a command from their Emperor." Bismarck explained. "Have them send supply wagons. We need to draw up provisions that will last us 3 months at least. I'm doubtful the siege will last that long, but to be sure."

"What of our other concerns?"

Guinevere gave her brother a long look. "We'll erect a defense for King's Landing first. I don't care much for the peasants after what they've done, and they can go die. But I will not let our impudent little brother put us to shame and steal the Red Keep from under our noses."

vVvVv

Prudent of Lelouch to seek an alliance with the most plentiful territory in Westeros. True enough, no hostile force arrived to intercept the Dornish armada's docking at the Reach's harbor. Of course, the sizes of the war ships gathered stares and whispers, but it wasn't anything dangerous. It also helped that he sent word to Lord Lamperouge at Highgarden to tell him about his plans. Plus, his naval army needed some respite from the sea and its tumultuous waves too.

The intelligence reports he received days ago had confirmed that his best friend's army was in the Riverlands. Barring other nasty complications, they should arrive at King's Landing after 7 more days of marching. Suzaku and his Dornish armada needed to lay siege to the capital ideally days ahead of the Prince's estimated arrival. And in lieu of that conclusion, Suzaku decided they needed more siege weapons. Gods knew his war ships housed plenty already, but crafting a few more certainly couldn't hurt.

Underneath the cowl of a traveler's cloak and simple clothes, the Prince of Dorne left the comforts of the Royal liner to mingle with the rest of the people conducting daily business close to the docks.

Merchants had their wares, tax collectors accounted for debts, seafood for sale for miles on end, and of course, it was easy to spot barrels and barrels of Arbor gold being transported from wagons to a single but notable cargo ship.

There was another reason why he commanded the fleet to dock at the Reach…

He had business with Lady Leila Breiskau-Redwyne — sole owner of acres upon acres of vineyards and the one woman responsible for supplying the noblemen of Westeros with the fine Arbor Gold they craved.

The shadow of the cargo ship cast lengthy shapes across the stony shores, providing shade to men hauling goods aboard. Here, a man he presumed to be the Captain of the ship greeted him, reverently spouting pleasantries before escorting the Dornish Prince to where he needed to be. He thanked the middle-aged gentleman kindly as he left him at the threshold of what Suzaku presumed to be Lady Leila's lavish cabin.

"Prince Suzaku Kururugi." Dressed in a gown of flowing silk with her fair hair tied up to an intricate up-do, Lady Leila stood from her seat. The most welcoming smile stretched across her lips as she approached him and gave a courtly bow. "It's an honor to have you. Please, have some refreshment."

She led him to the banquet table just beyond the archway that separated the foyer from her cabin's dining space. Eight empty chairs, but before him lay food that could serve four or six.

"It's not necessary, but I'm grateful for your hospitality anyway." Suzaku returned the Lady's smile as he graciously claimed the seat at the head of the table. Lady Leila sat to his right, gesturing for a steward to pour some of the decadent wine into their goblets.

"I was traveling through the Free Cities of Valyria when I received word from Lord Lamperouge, calling his banners to join in a war for Westeros' liberation." She delicately nibbled on a grape, as she watched the steward leave. "But from what exactly?"

There was no such thing as a surprise attack within Westeros — unless the Realm's spymaster should die, Suzaku Kururugi knew most of his movements were being reported back to the Red Keep, traveling hundreds of miles to reach the Emperor's ears. Keeping things quiet were hit-or-miss. True, the lesser and greater Houses of the Reach had pledged allegiance to Lelouch, but one could never be too careful.

So instead of answering her question outright, he deigned to ask instead, "Are you fond of the Emperor?"

She seemed to catch on to his train of thought as she coyly smiled against the rim of her wine goblet before taking a sip. "If there are spies listening, I should say 'yes.' But since there's no room for pretenses in this conversation, I would say you already know my answer. Why else would I commit 25 Redwyne cargo ships to your cause? They're not built for naval battle, but I'm sure they can be of help."

The majority of the Redwyne fleet and its warships were committed to the Crown, adding to the Royal Fleet. But for the infiltration plans they had in place, yes, the cargo ships are a great help. "They would be. Thank you, my Lady."

Leila cleared her throat, replacing her drink and sitting up straighter as she said, "His Majesty, Lelouch vi Britannia, gave instructions that I work with you regarding this."

Usually, titles went over Suzaku's head. But not this time around. Why would she address his best friend as 'His Majesty'? As far as he knew, only the Emperor deserved to have such a title.

Nevertheless, the Prince found himself agreeing. "I am in-charge of the naval siege."

"Quite an opportune time to take the City. Especially now that a different ruler occupies the Iron Throne."

A different ruler?

Was there something he missed? Suzaku Kururugi had been at sea for the past few days, and the days before that, he had spent a short amount of time at Dragonstone with his new fiancee. Any news regarding the Emperor's health or life had not reached him at all.

"What are you—"

Leila supplied the needed information quickly, as if she expected his puzzlement somehow. "My friends within the Red Keep have informed me of late Emperor Charles' unfortunate passing."

"So—" He was dead. Charles zi Britannia no longer lived…

"Emperor Odysseus now sits as ruler. And the people don't approve. The Knights of the Round have been doing their best to suppress internal revolts, but resistance groups crop up and take arms all the same. I hear the Red Keep dungeons are now teeming with them, and executions are a daily occurrence — left and right. The word on the street is that the majority clamor for Emperor Lelouch."

He eyed the spread of dishes before him warily, but made no move to eat anything edible — too distracted with the load of news dumped before him. It made perfect sense why the people of King's Landing clamored for a different heir. The common people were quite fond of their raven-haired Prince.

"Is Lelouch aware of these turn of events?"

Leila shook her head, clasping her hands before her own untouched plate. "I think not. Otherwise, we would have heard from him by now about any alterations to the plan. The Imperial family has kept news of the last Emperor's death from spreading within the first few days."

"I suppose you couldn't tell me who your informant is in the Red Keep?"

"Lady Victoria li Britannia."

"Princess Cornelia and Euphemia's mother…" Suzaku trailed off, recalling a woman with lush fuchsia locks and blue-violet irises. He'd met her on passing during one or two occasions, but never really acquainted himself with her. But considering the fact that she would be his mother-in-law soon, perhaps he should.

Leila nodded in agreement, oblivious to his thoughts. "The very same. She's quite upset the girls were spirited away at the behest of their half-brother. She asks me where they are."

"Princess Cornelia is with Lelouch in the Riverlands."

"And Princess Euphemia?"

At the mention of his love's name from another person, Suzaku couldn't help thinking back to how she looked just before he set sail. She stood at the shore with her engagement necklace cupped in one hand, watching his ship — and him — leave until they disappeared over the horizon.

"I apologize, Lady Leila, but I'm not at a liberty to disclose such information."

To her credit, the Lady didn't seem offended. She only gave him a sad smile. "What a shame. But I suppose it's for the best. Anyway, I'll send word to Lord Lamperouge that we've spoken. We leave the day after tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"And what of your building?"

"My men can complete the new siege weapons while we're at sea."

"Most pleasing to hear, Prince Suzaku."

Suzaku drank the last of his wine, and rose from the chair — wresting the folds of his cloak that snagged against the corners of the furniture. "I'm grateful for your time, Lady Leila."

"It was an honor to have you, Prince. The day after tomorrow then."

He bid her one last nod of farewell and left her ship as quietly as he came. The workmen were loading the last of the cargo, and the Captain of his Royal liner, Akito Hyuuga was waiting for him — a sealed and rolled up piece of parchment pinched between his fingertips.

"A letter from the Riverlands, my Prince."

vVvVv

Calares' regrouped forces were more vicious than the first. Their numbers supplemented by the Knights of the Vale charging under Prince Clovis la Britannia's command, the reinforced army cut through their vanguard with ease, until they met with their mounted soldiers.

It was her second battle, and details still flashed in her mind's eye. Her custom-made armor that once gleamed under the sun was now cloudy and speckled with more than just dirt. She and the rest of the fighting men now wore the reek of death and blood like perfume. And in spite of the protection, the nasty fluids still clung to her skin. Yet again, the fields were littered with screaming and dying men.

Needless to say, they won. Their battle ended with Calares crushed underneath the body of his destrier, and Prince Clovis la Britannia in the custody of his younger brother. The rest of the living men threw down their swords, yelled and cried to surrender, and raised a white flag.

Already, she could see empty wagons drawn by horses, overseen by the Silent Sisters. The living heaped the dead on these wagons, piling them one on top of the other as if they were nothing more than heavy bales of hay. Kallen heaved a sigh as she slowly continued making her way through the battlefield, only to stop when she spotted a familiar head of raven hair tied in a braid.

Kallen now knew what CC was, and what she really looked like. But the mask the faceless woman usually wore was the face that was more familiar to her. By all standards, that pretty girl with her gold eyes and green hair and half-undressed last night was still a stranger.

Gods, a Faceless Man. And who could have ever guessed? She'd always heard of Lelouch's queer ways and from her time in King's Landing, knew of his odd companion choices, but CC's presence in his internal retinue certainly took the cake.

"CC!"

The woman cast her a glance, and still continued with her self-imposed task nonetheless.

"Where were you?" Kallen asked, running a hand through her matted red hair.

"I was here."

"No you weren't." Kallen frowned. CC was usually stationed at the vanguard, except today.

"I aided near the end. His Royal Highness had other plans for me." CC said, grunting with effort as she hooked her elbows underneath a particular dead man's mutilated body.

"Did it have anything to do with the Farnese soldiers refusing to join us in this battle?" Kallen spied the smirk that was half-hidden in locks of CC's raven hair falling across her face. "Lelouch's pretty pissed about that, I'll bet."

CC snorted, loading another dead body into the wagon. "Of course he is. Imagine agreeing to a lesser lord's terms only to not receive promised aid when the fighting has started."

Kallen watched CC curiously as she secured thick and lengthy bits of rope around the wagon's posts and planks, ensuring no dead man slipped out of containment. "Do you think we'll be in for another fight?"

"Against Farnese, no. Unlikely. We need the men."

"But after what he's done today, can we trust Farnese to keep his words, and—"

"Only men without wits will ever trust a bitter old oaf like Farnese."

CC mounted the horse at the head of her unusual cargo, leaving Kallen standing there, looking up at her with confusion still written across her face.

"You really don't need to do that. Let the men and the Silent Sisters take care of the bodies. They'll burn them and take the ashes to the families."

Kallen would have sworn that the little quirk at the corner of CC's lips made her look condescending.

"Everyone is entitled to the spoils of battle, wouldn't you agree?"

'Spoils of battle,' seriously?

"You have more than enough weaponry." Kallen huffed, eyeing the weapon's belt CC had around her hips. It was two swords today, with the hilt of a finely made dagger peeking out of the folds of her cloak. Visible weapons, and yet, Kallen knew that she still had the invisible ones on her person — much like the throwing knives the woman had launched at her during their brief spar.

"It's not their weapons I'm after." That sly smirk widened to show all teeth. "Cremated men have no need for faces."

vVvVv

Prince Clovis la Britannia had always enjoyed the riches afforded to him by his noble birth. Among his brothers, he was always the most well-dressed, the most eccentric. He was the one with a flair for the arts. He was a skilled painter and patron of the arts — not a warrior.

"With you and our older sister in command, I did not hold much hope for victory." Clovis mumbled, disheartened and looking defeated as he sat on a cot with his legs, ankles, arms, and hands bound. "You were the Realm's Chief Military Overseer for a reason, little brother. Why are you doing this, Lelouch?"

It was no use to try and make him understand. Even if Lelouch went as far as to give the barest details of his reasons, he always knew his passions and motivations would fall on deaf ears. It would not sway a man who was wholly loyal to their wretch of a Father. His reasonings held no water because the success of his campaign would ultimately mean the end of the excessive riches the highborn in the Red Keep indulged upon.

Cornelia watched sadly as her two brothers exchanged verbal blows, one impassioned speaker over the other. Their family was coming to ruin… How fitting still, because it's what Charles zi Britannia would have wanted to see. True, he appointed a Crown Prince and gave his children command over armies and opportunities to rule, but they weren't strangers to the fact that their sire upheld the principle of the strong lording over the weak. He wanted many children so the Realm won't lack an heir, and he wanted them to stake their claims and earn their places in Court.

Odysseus' claim to the Throne was only as strong as their other siblings would allow it. In their father's mind, whoever was strong would ultimately rule, while the weak would be cast-aside. This particular way of thinking was more heavily enforced on the sons he bore — not so much on the Princesses, though they were welcome to try and seize power.

It was why Cornelia insisted on becoming a warrior herself — if only to have the capabilities to protect Euphemia as well. Lelouch thought along the same wavelength but for Nunnally.

"You're more than welcome to that Throne you're so thirsty for now." Clovis snorted, breaking Cornelia out of her reverie. "Father passed away from illness. Odysseus now sits as ruler."

vVvVv

The Emperor — late Emperor now — Charles zi Britannia no longer lived. And none ended his existence but the simple course of a disease. Clovis wasn't keen on details, and that left Cornelia wondering what did it. Was it consumption? The pox? The plague? But above all thoughts of what caused their sire's swift departing from their world, she and her younger brother had more pressing matters to attend to.

Their soldiers were in the middle of doing their full accounting and the majority of the camp was engaged in post-battle affairs first thing in the morning. Cornelia dropped the flap of her brother's massive tent and turned to him, cleaning blood off of his sword — or what little there was of it since he led the party that apprehended Clovis.

"Do we still take King's Landing? Father is dead."

"And whether it's a fabrication or the truth, our strategic objective remains the same. This war isn't just vengeance and justice for my Mother's death any longer. Or have you forgotten?"

Identical pairs of violet eyes cut across the short distance, before Cornelia broke it as she shook her head. "I have not."

"Besides, who sits on the Iron Throne doesn't concern me as much as how silent the North has been."

2nd Prince Schneizel el Britannia held the North. And it was simply odd that there was nothing going on in his end. He was always one to let his own selfish ambitions masquerade as public service. And that was part of the reason why even during Lelouch's years as a Prince serving under the Crown, Lelouch had never trusted him fully.

"Schneizel doesn't want war."

"Does he? He always claims that he wants what's best for the Realm. In his eyes, and the others, that means putting a stop to me, at the moment. A man like that won't sit idly by while another is winning support and gathering power."

"You're wary of him." Not a question at all.

Lelouch eyed his sister carefully. She didn't have to reveal her feelings outright, but he knew that Cornelia had slivers of affection for all of their kin (as messed up as it was, and as cutthroat as their family's ideals were). She knew as well as he did that any member of House Britannia could conspire to overthrow one and crown the other. Weren't his father's consorts prime examples of failed attempts? And yet, Cornelia li Britannia cared for them all — in her own way.

"Only a lack-wit wouldn't be." He had worked with his brother on several occasions, after all. Schneizel was always crafty and masterfully hid plans in order to succeed. In a way, Lelouch's own methods were sometimes a warped reflection of that.

"What do you expect him to do? He hasn't sent for an army. Our scouts report no activity in the Barrowlands, the Neck, or the White Knife. He could be biding his time." Cornelia frowned. "But how will that serve him if he doesn't plan to act until we arrive at the gates of King's Landing? Presuming he's going to do something."

Well, it was somewhat clear, wasn't it. Schneizel didn't plan on doing anything, when— "He already has plans in place."

An astonished expression came over Cornelia's face, and she looked at him as if he had all the answers. "What are they?"

"That's what we've yet to know."

"Very well, I'll have some of the men—"

Lelouch shook his head. "Men scurrying about are too suspicious. I've sent CC."

Men spying around and trying to disguise themselves to blend in was too great of a risk. Plus, why should he have to put his trust in several spies, when he had a faceless man at his disposal to do the espionage for him?

"You're suspecting the Lord at the Twins?"

Lelouch shrugged and returned the pristine blade back into the scabbard. "According to what you told me, Farnese wasn't eager to cast his lot for our cause. His first reaction was to snitch us to Clovis and Calares, presumably allied with Schneizel and with no agenda of their own. Even after we've informally agreed to his terms, Farnese didn't aid us in this battle either." Lelouch gave her a knowing glance. "I'm sure when we confront him later, he'll tell us it's his test of sorts. Empty excuses when he's already thrown in with us from the moment we agreed to his ridiculous terms."

Terms he was going to worm out of eventually. He'd thought up a plan, but wasn't keen on sharing it with anyone just yet. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it. One way or the other, he would wriggle him and Euphemia out of the marriage arrangements.

Cornelia took a while to process his words and draw up her own conclusions.

If Farnese aided them and they won, the old Lord would have to make excuses about fighting on their side to Schneizel and the others — presuming they were conspiring together. If the Lord at the Twins aided them and they lost, it would entail the same consequences. The issue was on the fact that he fought with Lelouch's army.

Understanding things from Farnese's duplicitous point of view, it was safer to stay behind castle walls and leave the fighting to the army that was already garrisoned outside and vulnerable. Less risks and less suspicions.

"If that's the case, he has to have some assurance that Clovis and the others wouldn't storm his walls and demand for reasons if we lost."

The smirk that quirked Lelouch's lips implied as much. "Exactly…"

"I'll leave you to it then." Cornelia nodded once, trusting in Lelouch and the task he'd delegated to CC. In any event, she'd best change her clothes if they were to meet the Lord of the Twin Towers face to face.

But before she left—

"We're keeping Clovis alive."

"He may be of some use to us, yet." Cursed is the kin-slayer, after all. "Unless he does something that puts our lives at sword point, yes, we keep him alive."