Work Text:
A soft breeze ran through the suspended gardens of the Viceroy's Palace. Designed after the Aries Villa's gardens, the sight brought a feeling of peace to Euphemia. Or so, it should have. Cornelia's head on her thighs, with a hand running in her sister's locks, didn't help with chasing the thoughts that swirled in her mind for a few weeks now. Zero's identity remained a mystery to everyone. Yet she had a feeling it might not be that much of a secret. The way Zero acted, the visceral hatred for not only the Empire, but precisely the Imperial Family, the rebellion in an area like the Area 11. Many things piled up, and aside from a suspicious death she never believed in, nothing contradicted her thoughts.
Deep inside, Euphemia knew she was probably right. She also knew she should feel something along the lines of anger and disappointment. She couldn't. How could she? Such hatred, they deserved it. If she was right, how much could she understand the hatred fueling Zero and his actions. They had abandoned him . All of them. Schneizel hadn't conducted any research. Neither had Cornelia, focused on other matters that perhaps should have mattered less. Oh how much could she understand... At times, she too felt forgotten, frowned upon, despised, belittled. How would a child react to such behaviors he hadn't done anything to trigger?
Her heart clenched, and a vice wrapped around her throat, eyes bubbling in tears Cornelia failed to notice. How much it hurt to know he had likely taken that path and made them all his enemy. It shouldn't be like this. It should have never been.
"Cornelia," she called, her voice wavering.
Her older sister turned on her stomach to face her, elbows digging the ground to support her face in her palms. She frowned at the sight of Euphemia's tears, straightened and wiped them with the tips of her fingers.
"What's wrong?"
The young woman started, not even quite realizing she had been weeping. Shaking her head, she anchored her eyes in her sister's, a strong look of determination on her face.
"Would you do something for me?"
Rare were the times Cornelia had seen Euphemia so serious. Cupping her face in her hands as she straightened, her thumb circled over the princess' cheek.
"Anything, you should know it."
Euphemia's gaze softened for a few seconds, before she picked up again, "capture Zero for me, please."
Taken aback by such a statement, the General withdrew her hands.
"It's in our plans, but why would you ask such a thing? I thought you were in favor of diplomacy and discussions."
Cornelia hadn't expected pain in the sudden fleeing gaze of her sister, nor that she'd start biting her lips. She slid a thumb against said lips, gently pushing the teeth away so Euphemia would stop hurting herself like that.
"I think I know who Zero is," the Sub-viceroy admitted.
A perfect silence fell upon the sisters, only interrupted by the wind's whistles in the trees and flowers. The sun shone bright, yet a cold dread captured Cornelia's heart. How could her sister, who had never been on the battlefield, who had just been a hostage, have a theory on Zero's identity? It felt surreal. Out of all people, she expected that the least from Euphemia. Even if it wouldn't hurt to hear what she had to say, Cornelia couldn't help but think she'd be wrong no matter what.
"And who do you think that is?"
It sounded harsher than she intended, according to the slight wince on Euphemia's face.
"You won't take me seriously no matter what I say, right?" The younger lady sighed, in a way that broke the General's heart.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that," she gently took her sister's hands in hers, caressing them softly, "please tell me, your opinion matters to me."
If there was one thing Cornelia never lied about, it was her love for her sister. Even if naive, Euphemia's opinions and ideas were worth discussing. They could lead to more peaceful solutions sometimes, even if she was too young to be fully trusted as a leader.
Euphemia took a deep breath to steady herself, clenching her hands over Cornelia's, as she stated, "I think that Zero...may be Lelouch."
Cornelia's eyes widened in shock, her lips parted to let out something, a sound, a protest, anything that didn't come and die in her throat. She wanted to scream, to call Euphemia insane, to tell her to not soil their deceased brother's name like that. A part of her, yet, knew it wouldn't lead anywhere. Just like this statement. If she let this thought win, without any solid fundations, it may lead her to soften on the battlefield. Not only could it cost them a fight, but it might as well cost them the war.
Shaking her head to dismiss the absurdity of the statement, she then frowned at her sister, estimating she had gone too far.
"Now you're just being delusional."
Euphemia's grip tightened on her.
"Please, hear what I have to say."
To the determination in her eyes, the pleas on her face and voice, Cornelia had no other choices than listening, at the fear that her sister may feel dismissed again.
"Zero...doesn't only hate the Empire... It's the Imperial Family that he targets, it's us . He's proven himself to be smart and resourceful. Isn't it what Schneizel has taught him? Tell me Cornelia, when you're battling the Black Knights, doesn't it feel like you're fighting against a strategy Schneizel could have come up with?"
Cornelia bit her lips. She couldn't say that Euphemia was wrong. Zero was a fine strategist. Better than her. A worse pilot, but a better strategist, a better leader, someone who would make miracles if only he was on Britannia's side. More than once, her battles against Zero felt like chess matches. She had never been that great at chess. Schneizel would always play it with her before they got their little brothers, Cornelia had never enjoyed this game. It was too calm, with not enough high stakes, and she hated how Zero treated his soldiers like disposable pawns in a game of chess.
"Schneizel would never use such low moves. He would have never triggered a landslide and killed innocents in the process."
"He would have." Euphemia insisted, sorrow evident in her gaze.
Schneizel was cruel as a strategist. At times, he could be worse than Zero. Stating the contrary would be being of a bad faith. Cornelia wished to preserve Schneizel's reputation, but truth to be told, the man didn't help her whatsoever. He did what he esteemed right, even if she disagreed, even if it would make him feared by the people, hated by the colonies.
A long sigh escaped her as she ran her hand in her hair, trying to make sense of what Euphemia was stating.
"He's dead, Euphemia. He died in Japan, with Nunally. You know it, I know it, they have their graves next to Marianne's."
"You know about as much as I do that the coffins are empty, they never found their bodies. Is it so hard to accept that our brother may be alive..?"
Cornelia clenched her hands into fists to the absurdity of such a question.
"Is it so hard to accept that the brother we believed was dead killed Clovis and became a terrorist? Do you hear yourself, Euphemia? Of course it's hard to imagine that, I'd rather have him dead than being a traitor!"
The sudden rise in her voice made Euphemia flinch and pull away, tears rising in her eyes to the harshness of her sister's voice. She couldn't mean it. For the love of God, Cornelia couldn't mean that she'd rather have a dead brother than an alive one who made mistakes and was guided by vengeance.
"Should I understand that you won't capture him, then..?"
The disappointment in her voice was clear. Even if there was a small chance for their brother to be alive, Cornelia would rather kill Zero than find out if Euphemia was right. That tore her heart apart, and it took a damn lot for Euphemia's heart to be broken.
"Euphy..." Cornelia called, a hand extended in the void as the princess was leaving to return in the coldness of the Viceroy Palace, hugging herself, as nobody else would do it for her.
Cornelia still refused to believe in Euphemia's words. It would only make her weaker, and with the amount of assaults the Black Knights conducted on them, she couldn't afford such a luxury. In her heart, still, the doubt remained. She hadn't really talked to Euphemia in the past weeks, the young woman being busy with her own projects and definitely dealing poorly with the harsh words of her older sister. As such, Cornelia had decided on a trap. They knew what Zero's next target was. The plan was to isolate the Guren away from him, and to capture Zero. Only the Lancelot would be up to the task of distracting the Guren, as much as it hurt Cornelia's pride, she had no remorse for using the Major Kururugi in such a way if it meant having the opportunity to capture Zero.
The battlefield roared in engines and gunshots. Knightmares fell apart, from both soldiers and Black Knights. It didn't take much for the Guren to be driven away from Zero, even if the leader still had his own squadron. Guilford took them upfront, under Cornelia's lead who remained hidden, a tactic that wasn't like hers, one she wasn't proud of. If going as low as Zero did was the way, then be it. She needed the certitude that Euphemia was wrong, and she would do whatever it took to prove it.
As Guildford managed to get rid of most of Zero's squadron, Cornelia charged from behind, launched her cables around the Knightmare's legs she mowed down in one move; her lance pierced through one of its hands, effectively pinning it down. Guildford force opened the cockpit, let her take Zero's body, and covered her so they could retreat to the army's headquarters safely. Cornelia ordered him to stay away, as she reached the headquarters' underground with her Gloucester, isolating herself to discover Zero's identity and make sure nobody else would learn about it. Because what if Euphemia was right? Nobody else should know. If the information leaked from there, what would happen in the highest spheres of Britannia? What would the nobles say about the Imperial Family? What would the Emperor do? With how he heartlessly banished his children, she wouldn't be surprised if the Emperor decided to kill them. The family had already suffered this loss once. They would crumble if they had to go through it a second time.
Bracing herself, she wrapped her Knightmare's hand around Zero's body, effectively trapping him, then used the other one to take off the mask. Surprisingly, the terrorist didn't move. As if he had given up. He didn't even try to turn his head as black locks fell from under the mask, resting against a pale skin Cornelia hadn't quite expected. Then, he made one move. Lifting his head, and looking up to Cornelia's cockpit, unveiling behind those raven strands purple irises she couldn't miss. A mix between a deep magenta and a darker purple, ever changing under the lighting, a color she knew too well, yet hadn't seen in a long time.
Euphemia was right.
And she hated that fact with every fiber of her body.
"Not kissing me to say hi? How rude you've become Cornelia."
A shiver of discomfort ran down her spine. She didn't know what she expected. Of course he had grown up, of course his voice would grow deeper, but oh how much she hoped it was just a nightmare. She barely recognized him. Gone was the child playing chess with Schneizel, arguing with Clovis, watching over Euphemia and Nunally. He was a man now. A man with blood on his hands. His own brother's blood.
The Knightmare's hand tightened around the young man's body. He winced, and proceeded to complain a bit.
"Now now, you don't have to behave like this just because you've been called out. That's a very painful hug you're giving me."
Pulling out from her cockpit, she left the Knightmare in the same position, just to make sure the terrorist wouldn't escape.
"Cockier and more annoying than I remember."
Her lack of weapons showed her peaceful intentions. Despite this and the grip of her machine around him, she felt unsafe. Something about him had changed. Perhaps it was the hatred at the back of his eyes, disguised in playfulness. Perhaps it was the absence of innocence on his face. Perhaps it was only natural that he had changed for the worst. Perhaps....it would have been better for all if he had indeed died in Japan.
"So what," he snapped her back to reality, "you're going to kill me? Imagine how glorious you'd be if you did. Outshining even Schneizel. Not that it would bring you closer from the throne, I'm afraid we'll all be led by incompetent idiots."
The thought filled her with dread. How could she? It was her brother in front of her. With a despicable behavior and even worse crimes weighing on his shoulders, but still her brother. Such insolence however deserved punishment, and he didn't get the right to be so familiar with her. Not as eight years had passed.
Grabbing him by the hair in a painful grip, she drew closer from him.
"Watch your mouth. Your privileges were all revoked, you mean nothing to anyone, and the whole world would be relieved to know Zero died."
He raised an eyebrow with a defiance and courage she didn't know him, "is that a threat?"
"A warning."
His laugh rang out in the basement, cut short by her tightening grip on his hair.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He spat, and the playfulness he had arbored up to now vanished in an expression of pure hatred and a wrath that would awaken even ancient vengeful souls.
"You're in no position to threaten me."
His jaw tensed up, his head snapped back in her direction, "let g—"
Cornelia's hand hit right behind his neck, at the base of his skull, hard enough for the young man to collapse before he could finish his sentence. Dialogues with hateful people was impossible, Cornelia knew it better than anyone. She was the same, and stubborn as they both were, their conversation wouldn't have ended peacefully.
Zero had been transferred in a secret cell under the Viceroy Palace. A place nobody could reach. A place guarded with cameras only the Imperial Family had access to. Cornelia watched over the cell most of the time. He couldn't do anything from there anyway, not as long as the drugs would keep him asleep, regularly injected by needles sown in the collar of his straitjacket. A violent move, and he'd get stung. Any attempt to stand up, and he'd get stung. When the drugs' effect faded away, the mechanism triggered and stung him. As such, there was no chance for him to even think about a plan to get out. Nothing could help him. And for the little consciousness he managed to reach from time to time, Lelouch just knew he was likely to die here. The Empire couldn't condemn him to death penalty. Killing a member of their own family would look terrible. Having him starving and dying in his sleep sounded much less cruel in theory; Lelouch couldn't help but feel betrayed a second time.
Cornelia had left her tablet opened this morning, as she had left to make herself another coffee. Euphemia took her breakfast with her, despite the tension between them since that discussion in the suspended gardens. Glancing at the tablet by her side, she noticed a frail shape in an austere space, restrained by a straitjacket, immobile on the ground, as if dead. The princess frowned. Was that how the Empire treated prisoners? It was inhuman.
"Cornelia?" She called, hoping to get answers on why she was watching over this person, and why they were being manhandled in such a way.
The General returned in the room, her coffee smoking hot in her hand, the other on her hip.
"Y—" she stopped herself, her eyes widening at the sight of her sister holding the tablet, "it's none of your business."
"I am the Sub-Viceroy and your sister, I think I have the right to know. If it's how we treat prisoners in Britannia, I have the right to know, to decide whether I should stay or not."
Her words hung heavy between them. She couldn't be serious. Just at the sight of a prisoner and their treatment, she couldn't decide to give up on everything she had. It was pure insanity, and Cornelia started to think that madness ran deep in their family.
"It's not just a prisoner," Cornelia started then cursed herself. She had told either too much or not enough, and knew it just by the way Euphemia stared at her, "it's...someone we must keep an eye on at all cost, and a dangerous individual. With all that he did, he deserves no better."
It all became clear now. Euphemia's hand clenched on the tablet. With how much disdain Cornelia showed in her tone, it could only be one individual.
"Zero, right?" She asked, staring at the liveless mass on the screen, and its familiar black hair.
It could be anyone. Black hair meant nothing. It wasn't enough to identify someone. Yet she couldn't help but wonder. Zero should have been sent in any prison and for his crimes and offenses, he probably would have been set under higher supervision than Cornelia's. Yet, he seemed isolated, treated like a madman in a straitjacket, and Cornelia watched over him. If Zero wasn't so important in a personal way, Cornelia would have gotten him transfered to Schneizel or their father for an appropriate judgment. She didn't. Only death penalty was awaiting Zero, and if Cornelia was trying to protect him from that...
"Whatever you"re thinking Euphy, you're wrong—"
If Euphemia cared about her sister's opinion, she didn't show it the moment she ran out of the living room with the tablet. As she dashed and descended many staircases, she tinkered with the tablet until she found how to get to Zero's location. Under the Viceroy Palace. In its deepest basement.
Even if slow downed by passwords to get access to the underground, she managed to find them, with a bit of ingenuity her sister probably didn't expect for her. As the last door opened, Euphemia let out a long sigh and rushed towards the cell. The prisonner hadn't moved. She could hear his light breathing, indicating that, if anything, he was still alive. Discarding the tablet at her feet, she reached for the cell, hands wrapping around the bars. She couldn't open the cell. And he wasn't within reach. Even by squatting down and trying to catch his sleeve, he remained out of range. So close to know who Zero was...yet so far.
It took an hour or so before the man woke up.
"Don't move..!" She warned him.
It took all of his strength to not jump in fear or surprise. He seemed to listen, remaining immobile for now.
"Try to keep your neck straight...and crawl to me."
Then again, he obeyed. The process was long. Trying to not trigger the needles was a hard task. And she hadn't found how to deactivate them on the tablet. Well, she did, but it was sealed behind a password she hadn't be able to find.
When the prisonner reached the cell's border, she passed her hands between the bars and carefully tried to get rid of the needles on his side of the collar. She managed to unscrew them without stinging herself, threw all of the needles outside the cell, and waited for the man to return to his senses. This too took a while, but when he did, he turned in her direction, head low, barely looking at her through his bangs.
"Thank you..."
Behind the black locks, dull amethysts artificially shone under the aggressive light of the place. A color only possessed by her family, she knew. All doubts were lifted. Her hand passed between the bars, cupped his cheek as she caressed his skin with her thumb.
"Lulu..?" She gently called, hope shimmering in her gaze.
The man had a little smile, straightened and pushed his bangs away, facing her despite the circumstances.
"Hi Euphy," he answered, voice weak and hoarse, as he hadn't been awake for a week.
The young woman was torn between relief and pain. Relief that he was still alive. Pain that he hated them so much he had started a rebellion, terrorists activities, and had murdered their very brother. For that, she couldn't forgive him. But was she happier than she had ever been, learning he was still alive. Euphemia believed in second chances, changes, and kindness above all, just like the Knight she had named. Even if he had been banished, and then became a terrorist, Lelouch didn’t deserve to stay away from his family much longer. The punishment had damaged him too much already, she couldn’t leave him like this.
“I’ll find a way for you out of this, I promise…”
“Ho? Does that mean I’m not condemned to the death penalty?”
To the horror on her face, he could figure out the answer himself. She either didn’t know, or if she did, the thought still frightened her.
“Don’t joke about such things, Lelouch. We’ve just lost Clovis, some of us are still mourning, we wouldn’t wish for the death of another sibling…”
A pang of guilt pierced through his heart to the thought. Images of his bullet shooting through the man’s skull, splashing his face and clothes, flashed through his mind, a strong desire to throw up following suit but calmed down by his will. What he didn’t manage to calm down were the trembles shaking his body as he went down from the drugs that had kept him fully unaware of his body and how the texture of the straitjacket rubbed against his skin. Shudders ran through him, created more and more friction between the fabric and his derm, to the point that he felt like screaming and crying, but barely had the strength to do so. His breath grew heavier, his chest constricted by an unknown force wrapped all around his body, added to the straitjacket. Lelouch had rarely felt worse in his whole life. He wanted his costume back. The reassuring feeling of muslin and silk, the thickness and softness of his blouse and trousers, the warmth of his turtleneck and muffler. Even the Academy’s uniform would be more comfortable, while not being his exact definition of pleasant clothes to wear.
Arms and legs tied, he couldn’t even try to get rid of it, forced to go through this sensory hell that put him in greater distress than he would have thought. He barely had the strength to remember how to breathe; calling for help was completely out of the question. The young man swallowed back his tears. The sensation would make him feel even worse. He was trapped in his own body, in a smaller cage than the one made of bars and walls. His own skin felt like an enemy, each hair like a needle penetrating his derm each time it brushed against the straitjacket. He didn’t need water to feel like icicles slashing his cheeks and burning his eyes.
“Do you want some help…?”
Euphemia’s voice made him cuddle up against himself, shaking his head. He didn’t know how he’d react to being touched. And how could she even help him? They were separated by those bars. There was nothing they could do for this hell to stop. He would have preferred to stay asleep until death came for him. Knowing Euphemia, she’d never put the needles back.
This was worse than hell. And he knew she didn’t know, didn’t expect him to react so badly, didn’t want him to suffer. A part of him yet couldn’t help but think he deserved it, that for all the harm he had done, it was only fair for him to suffer in return, perhaps forever if no one got him out of this.
“Lulu, you’re suffering… give me your back, the zipper is there, I can undo it…”
It wouldn’t help. He couldn’t move his arms, and even if she unzipped the cloth, he couldn’t get out of it. He seemed to be just…doomed and wished that if there was some divine justice somewhere, may it strike him down right now and end his sufferings before he found an unhinged way to do it himself.
“Please… I just want to help, I won’t let you suffer like this any longer… It’s not helping anyone, they could have just cuffed you or have you chained to the wall, but this, it’s just cruel. Lelouch, please. Show me how to help you.”
Shaking, the young man offered his arms so she could undo the front first, then once his arms were free, he let them rest limp by his sides, still trembling. He turned around, allowing Euphemia to slide the zipper low enough for him to keep going by himself. He got rid of the straitjacket faster than he ever had removed clothes, threw it meters away from him, then curled up in a corner, near the bars.
Euphemia offered him a compassionate smile, and even if she wished to bring comfort, she knew that, for now, touching him would only make him worse. Her eyes lingered on his body, paler and thinner than she imagined him to be. Lelouch had never been much of an active, athletic person. Even as a child he hated to run and do the sports loved by nobles. He looked straight up underweight now. She couldn’t tell if it was due to his current life and the potential hardships he faced, or if it was only the consequences of being kept here, asleep for she didn’t know how long.
“You look…rather unhealthy…” She attempted, not wishing to hurt him, but incapable to hide her concerns, even if they weren’t so close anymore.
The young man let his head rest against the wall, focused his eyes back on her then sighed.
“I suppose getting drugged for I assume days can do that to you if you’re not consuming anything.”
She winced. He had a point. And he shouldn’t have been treated like that. Even if he was a criminal, human decency was still something their family was supposed to respect.
“I’m sorry. If I knew that Cornelia would do that, I wouldn’t have told her…”
“Told her what?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
Euphemia let out a sigh. It was all her fault. By wishing to be reunited with her brother, she had caused him more harm that could, and chances were that his life would never be the same, if he was allowed to live at all.
“I…suspected you were Zero, since that one time in the hotel… I told her, and she didn’t believe me, but… look at where it led you.”
As surprising as it may be, and despite the shudders that still coursed through him, Lelouch shrugged his shoulders, as if indifferent to his fate.
“Don’t beat yourself over it. Even if you hadn’t told her, and particularly since she didn’t believe you, she would have done the same. The only thing that would have been different lies in my decisions during the battle. You’re not responsible for my mistakes and my fate, Euphy. You’ll never be.”
His words acted like a balm over her heart. A small smile appeared on her face, that lit up in the process and helped with warming her brother’s gaze.
“Ah, here she is, my little Euphy.”
Passing his hand through the bars, he patted her head in an affectionate move, just like he would do with Nunally. The surprise stunned her for a bit, before she flushed in embarrassment and pulled away.
“Who are you calling little with that terrible shape of yours?!”
Lelouch snorted, “I’m still taller. And older.”
“But not wiser.”
He gasped, offended, which only made her chuckle, her teasing successful. Her face, however, quickly returned to one of seriousness. Lelouch hadn’t made the wisest choices, and to her, he appeared as cruel as Schneizel could be. She loved both of her brothers, but ignoring their actions wasn’t something she was capable of.
“Lelouch,” she called, and caught his attention again, “why? What had…Clovis done…for you to do that..?”
“Aside from ordering a slaughter in a whole ghetto, resulting in the death of many innocent men, women and children? Who knows what else he would have ordered if he hadn’t been killed that day.”
Euphemia felt her whole world crumbling. She knew that Clovis wasn’t a model of virtue and kindness, not that he had ordered the death of hundreds of innocents. But so did Schneizel. And probably so did Cornelia. People died in wars and rebellions. Were they all awful people? Were they all unworthy to rule over Britannia? If she ever became the Viceroy of a colony, would she too order slaughters because she could? If the answer to all of those questions was yes, then perhaps Lelouch was right…
“If… If it had been me…or Schneizel…would you have done it?”
A stupid question. She cursed herself for even asking it. But she wished to know. Would things have been different if it hadn’t been Clovis? They weren’t even on bad terms… But she hoped that when the situation would call for it, her ties with Lelouch would save her, if ever needed.
“Schneizel, yes —”
“But he loved you!”
Her hands covered her mouth in shock. How could he say such things… She had a hard time understanding for Clovis’ fate, despite him being a horrible person, but Schneizel? Schneizel who had always loved and cared for him and Nunally? It felt surreal. Did they really grow apart that much? Did family mean nothing to him? She refused to think that the Lelouch she loved as a child wasn’t there anymore, but he was giving her a hard time believing this kid was still alive.
“If he loved me so much, maybe he would have commanded research for me and Nunally. If he loved me so much, maybe he wouldn’t have abandoned us after the Emperor cast us away. If he loved me so much, maybe I wouldn’t have been sent to this cell to rot under drugs that are slowly killing me inside.”
“Now you’re being unfair.”
“Oh am I? Please enlighten me, since you’re so wise, Euphemia.”
The sourness and pain in his voice were evident, yet she couldn’t help but think he hated her too. If he had a gun right now, would he shoot her like he shot Clovis? If he had the opportunity, would he kill them all without distinction? Hearing him, the answer seemed so evident.
“You…you were believed to be dead… and Nunally as well… That’s why nobody conducted any research.”
“It’s the lie they told you, indeed. How is that exactly my fault if someone as clever as Schneizel fell for it too? I was sent as a political hostage, and rather than looking for me once Japan was colonized, they simply assumed I was dead, how is that rational? How is that love? How is that caring for your siblings, who were ten and seven when it all happened?”
To the tears that lit up her eyes, Lelouch knew he had gone too far. Maybe she was the wrong person to tell his story to. She likely couldn’t understand. She was the youngest, and Cornelia would rip the world apart for her. Just like he was doing, for Nunally. He’d never expect Nunally to understand or to support him. He shouldn’t expect Euphemia to understand either.
“You were right,” he sighed, “I’m being unfair. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Apologizing for his damn existence causing harm, that was what he was reduced to. It felt enraging. But he knew better than causing more distress to Euphemia. Once more, he couldn’t help but think the world would be better off him.
One day, when all of this would be over.
“I wish…things would have gone differently… That Schneizel had conducted research…that we would have found you…that we’d be back to being a happy family… But… Schneizel, and Cornelia, and even Clovis, they all have investigated on Lady Marianne’s death…”
What a precious piece of information. Clovis had hinted so before he died. But now, Schneizel too was involved in this web thread in blood, secrets and treason. He didn’t have to go for Cornelia anymore. Schneizel probably knew more. But to reach the top, to draw attention from the Prime Minister on him, Lelouch needed to be worse. He needed his actions to shake even the foundations of Britannia, to strike a hit big enough to make the current army in Japan quake under him, and get Schneizel to engage in this slaughter that would only cease when Britannia would be destroyed.
“Trust me when I say we all cared…but circumstances were hard for everyone… I don’t dismiss the betrayal you’ve felt, or how hard life has been for you since. It’s just…been hard for everyone but it doesn’t mean we didn’t, or don’t, love you…”
Her hand slid on his and squeezed it softly. She cared. She wanted him alive and well. She loved him. Probably more than all of their other siblings. She had missed him and Nunally more than she could miss Cornelia when she left for wars Euphemia wasn’t welcomed in. She now had the opportunity to change everything. To make their lives go back to what they should be. Whether or not Lelouch would accept it, willingly return to the family that abandoned him, was unlikely. Trying wouldn’t hurt.
“Lelouch,” his eyes returned to her, “everything will be alright. I promise you. We’ll find a way, together.”
She was impossible. And probably utopist. But oh if it wasn’t the one thing he loved the most in her. Grabbing her hand in return, he shook it slowly as if sealing a promise.
“Alright. But if I see any chance to flee, at any point, I’ll catch it.”
Despite the sadness in her eyes, she nodded, “I can’t make you change opinions, can I?”
The young man shook his head. He’d put Britannia to fire and the swords, nobody would ever change that. But if he could save those who deserved his love and affection, he must seize the opportunity, and spare the world from greater tragedies it may not recover from.
