[Code Geass]
In the audience hall, the fireplace burned brightly, firewood crackling softly.
Beneath the colonnade, the guards stood at attention, while attendants moved swiftly back and forth.
Suzaku Kururugi sat upright on a carved wooden bench in the corner of the entrance hall, waiting quietly for the summons.
Rattle.
A maid pushed a serving cart over and asked, "Captain, coffee or black tea? Would you like some pastries as well?"
"A cup of black tea will be fine."
"Very well."
Soon, the tea was poured and placed before him, steam rising from the cup.
After thanking her, Suzaku took it and sipped a few times. Warmth spread from his mouth through his body, and his hands and feet quickly felt much warmer. As for the mellow fragrance of this palace-supplied tea, he had no mind to savor it. The train of thought interrupted by the small interlude drifted back at once to the tangled war situation in the Far East, Area 11.
Since the Black Knights had begun their uprising, unrest had plagued the islands of Area 11 without cease. The remnants of the Six Houses of Kyoto, discharged officers of the former Japanese military, local noble families, and even foreign forces—whether driven by hatred or by profit—had all made covert contact with Zero, some even joining him openly. As a result, the rebel forces proved difficult to eradicate. Governor Cornelia had failed to suppress them effectively. To this day the turmoil had not been quelled. Instead, it had only grown worse, with flames of war spreading across the land.
Many human tragedies had occurred in the meantime, and the letters from home mentioned more than a few of them.
Yes—letters from home.
Although Lelouch and Nunnally could not maintain direct contact with him to avoid exposing themselves, it was still possible to exchange news indirectly through Student Council President Milly and Shirley at Ashford Academy. Besides, the Kururugi family was not limited to his branch alone.
Not long ago, a relative from the same clan had contacted him in hopes of survival, discreetly revealing that the exiled leader of the Six Houses of Kyoto—the sole surviving heir of the old Japanese imperial line, his cousin and childhood companion, Kagura Sumeragi—had resurfaced. Moreover, she had allied herself with the Black Knights and appeared to have entered into a political marriage, publicly declaring Zero to be her husband.
"For the dream of an eternal imperial line, you've chosen to place your hopes in Zero, Kagura..." Suzaku stared blankly at the curling steam above his teacup, emotions tangled in his heart—anger and sorrow alike.
The fragrance of this tea felt just like Japan now.
Faint as a dying breath.
What should I do? Is there any way to achieve the best of both worlds?
Suzaku kept asking himself.
Unfortunately, there seemed to be none.
With his current experience and knowledge, he could find no solution.
At that thought, Suzaku sighed and drained the remaining tea in one gulp.
As expected, he was not good at thinking. Wielding weapons was his strength.
If it were Lelouch...
Just then—
Tap, tap-tap—
Somewhat uneven footsteps approached.
They've arrived? Suzaku halted the flood of thoughts, set down the teacup, rose to his feet, and looked toward the sound.
Right on cue, a dashing young general entered from outside the hall. Behind him followed eight or nine officers clad in the uniforms of the Knights of St. Michael. When they noticed Suzaku in the corner, their gazes varied—curious, appraising, or fervent.
At the front stood a man in a white-and-gold knight-general dress uniform. Green eyes. Long dark-blue hair combed neatly back and tied into a ponytail. His features were gentle, almost delicate, with a faintly feminine cast, and he carried a melancholic aura like that of a poet.
It was Shin Hyuga Shaing, formerly commander of the East Prussia Theater—Danzig Battle Group.
The main force of the Area 11 Expeditionary Corps, to which Suzaku belonged, had been stationed in East Prussia.
They had fought in coordination multiple times and were well acquainted.
"Deputy Marshal Shaing." Suzaku snapped to attention and saluted.
This "marshal" was not a field marshal nor a war marshal, but simply referred to Shaing's position as Deputy Commander of the Knights of St. Michael and Deputy Supreme Commander of its affiliated battle group.
"Suzaku-kun." Shaing returned the salute with a smile. He studied Suzaku's face, which bore new scars and had grown far more austere since their last meeting. "It has been several months since Danzig. You've grown more composed."
He spoke casually, as if making small talk, his tone warm and approachable.
"It's my duty." The heaviness in Suzaku's chest was obvious. He had no desire to engage in idle chatter.
His perfunctory attitude immediately displeased the red-haired female adjutant at Shaing's side. She stepped forward and reprimanded, "Captain Kururugi! Please mind your—"
Shaing merely turned his head slightly. "Jean."
"Yes." Jean Rowe lowered her violet eyes and retreated respectfully.
"Tch." Seeing the pretty adjutant fail in her reprimand and instead lose face, someone among the accompanying Knights of St. Michael barely suppressed a laugh.
"Ashley." Jean Rowe did not need to think to know who it was. She cast an unfriendly glance at the orange-haired officer struggling not to laugh. The man looked every bit the hothead—young, dark-skinned, red-eyed, with a wild hairstyle and an unruly, defiant expression.
After being glared at, he showed no sign of regret. Instead, he curled his lips in amusement and glared back.
As if to say: What are you looking at?
Jean Rowe had no interest in dealing with this mad dog.
If they were still at the order's headquarters, she would have retorted no matter what—even if it meant a duel in armored knights. But this was Catherine Palace, the court of Her Highness the Third Princess. Any breach of decorum before the throne would disgrace the entire order.
Composing herself, she rebuked, "Mind your words and conduct, Ashley Ashra. We are soldiers of the Empire, not street thugs—certainly not rabble. Do not bring further shame upon the Knights of St. Michael because of you!"
"You!" The young officer named Ashley flushed red, though in the end he did not dare to flare up.
After all, he had truly been punished during the rectification and training campaign presided over by Vela.
Suzaku observed quietly from the side.
Shaing remained unperturbed. After politely declining the maid's offer of tea with a gentle smile, he said, "My subordinates lack discipline. I hope Suzaku-kun will not take offense."
Suzaku shook his head and replied sincerely, "Deputy Marshal, you care for your soldiers like a father. It is admirable." Though he might lack tact, he could still manage polite words. Moreover, this was not entirely flattery. He personally favored leniency in military governance, and he found himself drawn to the atmosphere of orderly competition among officers under Shaing—a fellow countryman and senior figure in the military.
Shaing paused for a moment and looked deeply at Suzaku. Seeing the genuine expression on his face, he shifted the topic.
"Speaking of which, my younger brother owes you his life. After escaping danger and receiving amnesty thanks to your intervention, he has yet to formally thank you." Turning his head, he called, "Akito."
A young knight in the uniform of a first lieutenant, standing at the rear of the formation, stiffened briefly before stepping forward. He raised his hand in salute.
"Pilot Akito Hyuga of the Knights of St. Michael expresses his gratitude to you, Captain Kururugi."
Who? Suzaku was momentarily stunned, then froze.
"Hyuga?" The name—wait!
He remembered.
The face of the young lieutenant before him gradually overlapped with a face from his memory—
That night: the outskirts of Daugavpils, at the end of the annihilation battle. Inside the shattered cockpit of an E.U. [Alexander Type-02 Specialized Variant] Knightmare Frame, a teenage soldier with a twisted, feral expression.
At the time, he had not chosen to fire a finishing shot. Acting on instinct, he had saved the exhausted, unconscious boy.
Afterward, he had transferred him to the prisoner-of-war holding facility.
Now that he thought about it, more than a week after the Battle of Daugavpils had ended, Suzaku had indeed received a handwritten letter from Lord Shaing—the letter solemnly thanked him for saving his misguided younger brother.
At the time, however, the fighting along the Danzig Corridor had been at its fiercest. Battles in the surrounding towns had largely devolved into brutal urban warfare and trench fighting. By the end of the fourth quarter of Imperial Year 2017, the Area 11 Expeditionary Corps had suffered over 37,000 fatalities in East Prussia alone, with the number of wounded exceeding 130,000. The first three waves of Japanese honorary Britannian soldiers deployed to Europe had been virtually wiped out.
Had the corps not been composed of Japanese honorary Britannian volunteers from the Eleventh Army—well-trained, hardened infantry with strong resilience—the kind of relentless, line-filling tactics employed would have shattered the unit's organization long ago.
And this was under conditions where European Britannia's medical prosthetics programs and cybernetic component technologies were rapidly iterating, where the military's treatment efficiency for the wounded, survival rate for the severely injured, and recovery-and-return rate for injured soldiers had all surged dramatically.
Rotating continuously through campaigns across the Baltic states and East Prussia, Suzaku had neither the time nor the energy to concern himself with personal formalities.
Moreover, as the model figure of the pro-assimilation faction personally established by Vela, he had no shortage of both supporters and detractors.
Letters and messages poured in from all directions—electronic and handwritten alike.
Most of them he dealt with perfunctorily.
By the time the E.U. coalition's offensive momentum slowed, the front stabilized, and the main force of the Area 11 Expeditionary Corps withdrew to the rear for rest and reorganization, Suzaku himself had been transferred to St. Petersburg and fast-tracked into military academy for advanced study.
Which made him even busier.
He had no choice. Cultural subjects and systematic military command theory were his weak points.
The matter of Akito Hyuga naturally slipped from his mind.
After all, he was not someone skilled at networking, currying favor, or leveraging gratitude.
No wonder the attitude of the soldiers from the Knights of St. Michael had abruptly improved during that period. Suzaku felt a trace of bitterness. Searching for words, he finally managed to say, "Please guide me, Second Lieutenant Hyuga."
Has he forgotten the matter entirely? The genial smile on Shaing's face grew increasingly strained.
Akito Hyuga simply stared fixedly at Suzaku, whose expression showed faint embarrassment, and at his brother putting on a performance for a blockhead. His own face remained wooden, devoid of any emotion. He said nothing.
...
Just as the atmosphere grew somewhat delicate—
Tap. Tap.
A tall, burly chamberlain cut straight through the awkward silence in the entrance hall.
"Sir Shaing, Captain Kururugi, and gentlemen of the Knights of St. Michael. Her Highness summons you. Follow me inside."
With that, he stepped aside and gestured in invitation.
The entire group straightened at once.
Passing through a partition, what first came into view was a long corridor—windows on the left, walls on the right.
The interior decoration was extremely minimal: only wall lamps, oil paintings of battles, and silk tapestries.
It was empty—so empty it bordered on excessive. Incomparably magnificent.
Even large Knightmare Frames could be accommodated.
Standing within it felt like stepping into the realm of giants.
The massive arched windows facing the garden alone rose thirteen meters high, displaying imperial grandeur. On the opposite side, doors leading to various rooms stood at intervals, most locked. Occasionally one would open or close, staff on duty moving in and out. Through the cracks, one could glimpse figures typing rapidly at privacy-shielded computer screens, faint murmurs of conversation drifting out.
From time to time, affairs officers and administrative assistants moved briskly between departments.
When they encountered Shaing, Suzaku, and the others, they either nodded in greeting or passed by with a fleeting glance.
Still walking at the rear, Akito Hyuga gazed around absentmindedly, his emotions indescribably complex.
For a fleeting instant, grief and indignation surged uncontrollably.
He muttered under his breath, "Commander Marrybell..."
This place was the heart of European Britannia, once an unattainable decapitation target. And now, carried along by circumstance, he had arrived here with ease.
Only—everything had changed.
Operation Gamma had failed. Commander Leila Marrybell had gone missing in action, her body never recovered. Ayano Kosaka, Yukiya Naruse, and Ryo Sayama, who had mutinied on the eve of battle, had died before the lines. The rebuilt WZERO unit had been annihilated a second time. Even he himself had been defeated head-on and captured by the White Knight of Area 11—Suzaku Kururugi, known as "the Third Princess' hound."
In the prisoner-of-war camp, muddled and waiting for death, he had been forcibly taken away by his half-brother—the very man responsible for the extermination of his clan—Shin Hyuga Shaing. Somehow, he had been specially recruited, becoming a soldier of Britannia. And now he had been brought here to seek an audience with that Third Princess.
Does this make me a thrice-sworn slave?
Akito lowered his head, his vision slightly blurred.
Staring at the polished stone floor beneath his feet, he could not help recalling scene after scene with Leila Marrybell. His fists clenched and loosened, loosened and clenched.
Until—
"Akito."
Shaing suddenly stopped and looked over, his expression devoid of warmth.
"Do not disappoint me."
"Yes, my lord." Akito's voice was low. When he raised his head again, his cobalt-blue eyes had already returned to stillness. The emptiness and numbness of someone tempered by suffering—yet as if nothing had ever happened.
The rest of the walk passed in silence.
At last, after traversing more than a hundred meters of marble corridor, the group came to a halt.
Akito saw the double doors six meters high, the lintel engraved with the griffin and winged serpent shield crest.
The chamberlain, naturally, had free passage inside.
Faint, fragmented conversation drifted from within the study.
Before long, a close attendant emerged to receive them and ushered them inside.
As they stepped forward, the voices in the study grew clearer.
"North Africa." / "The terrorist organization [Peace Mark] continues to disrupt our operations." / "Terrorists codenamed OZ are active in Area 11." / "Suspected to have reached cooperation with the Black Knights." / "Her Highness Marrybell, the 89th in line to the throne." / "The Glinda Knights are suitable for deployment."
...
Akito cast a thoughtful glance toward the source of the voices. At the center of the chamber, the Princess sat behind her desk, conversing with officials who were bowing respectfully below the steps.
"They are from the Secret Intelligence Bureau," Adjutant Jean Rowe whispered in reminder after recognizing the insignia on their uniforms.
A chill ran through the group.
All straightened, eyes lowered, not daring to move carelessly.
"Your Highness."
The attendant stepped forward to report.
"Mm."
The Princess' melodious voice rang out at just the right moment. "Marrybell wishes to involve herself as well? Very well. I understand. You may withdraw."
Vela swept her gaze across the room and then gave a slight wave of her hand.
"Yes, Your Highness."
The intelligence officers bowed and took their leave.
In that moment of exchange—
"Your Highness." ×N
Suzaku, kneeling on one knee below the steps in knightly salute, along with Shaing and the other officers of the Knights of St. Michael, lowered their heads.
Snap. Vela closed the document folder in her hand, her eyes gleaming.
Time to feed the horses.