Two days after the forest incident, the balance of power within Pendragon had shifted again.
Princess Carine stood before the tall windows of her private residence, overlooking the distant spires of the imperial capital. Reports had arrived throughout the night, each more troubling than the last. Clovis and Guinevere had moved swiftly. Too swiftly.
Most of the second-rank princes and a significant portion of the lesser nobility had rallied to their sides. "They are stealing the initiative," she muttered.
It made no sense.
Guinevere lacked subtlety. Clovis lacked resolve. And yet their respective factions were consolidating influence at an alarming pace. Political promises alone could not account for such rapid alignment.
Fortunately, they were competing for the same allies. As long as they vied for influence among the same nobles, there was little chance of them forming a true alliance in the immediate future.
Carine's fingers tightened around the parchment in her hand.
A trusted noble from her faction had requested an urgent private audience. He had visited Clovis the day before and now claimed to possess critical information—information he dared not transmit through official channels.
Carine did not trust coincidence.
Which was precisely why she accepted.
Her convoy moved through the capital with deliberate unpredictability. Rather than follow the main avenues, they diverted through narrow service roads and lesser-used industrial corridors. Surveillance was doubled. Communication channels were encrypted and rotated.
Her personal guard surrounded the armored limousine in layered formation.
At the heart of her military escort stood her greatest asset: the Knight of Eight. His Knightmare towered above the others, its armor reinforced, its combat systems calibrated for rapid engagement.
If this was a trap, she would not fall easily.
The convoy entered a narrower street bordered by tall administrative buildings. The afternoon light barely reached the pavement below.
Then—
A Knightmare stepped into the road ahead.
It landed with controlled precision, blocking the entire avenue.
"Contact front," one of her officers reported immediately.
Carine's eyes narrowed.
"Identification?"
"Unknown configuration. No faction insignia."
Her Knightmares surged forward, tightening formation around the limousine. Weapons raised. Targeting systems locked.
"Remove it," she ordered calmly.
Before the command could be executed—
All systems went dark.
One by one, her Knightmares shut down.
Cockpit displays flickered. Power cores stalled. Mechanical joints froze mid-motion.
"What is happening?" the Knight of Eight demanded over comms.
No answer.
The entire escort stood immobilized, metal giants reduced to lifeless statues.
Then the ambush revealed itself.
From rooftops.
From side streets.
From concealed transport carriers.
Dozens of Knightmares emerged and formed a perfect encirclement around the convoy.
Their rifles locked onto every disabled unit.
Carine's armored vehicle shuddered as external hatches were forced open.
Within seconds, she was extracted, restrained, and forced to her knees on the pavement.
Her soldiers were disarmed and dragged from their powerless machines.
A figure stepped forward through the ring of enemy Knightmares.
Black attire. Measured stride. An eyepatch covering his left eye.
Carine's breath caught.
"…You."
Lelouch stopped several meters before her.
"You suspected something," he observed calmly. "Your precautions were admirable."
"You're supposed to be dead," she hissed.
"An advantage," he replied softly.
Her eyes burned with fury. "This is Clovis' doing. He lacks the intelligence for such coordination."
"You are correct," Lelouch answered.
Understanding flickered too late in her gaze.
His gloved hand rose slowly to his eyepatch.
"You have already lost the capital, Princess."
When he removed it, the crimson sigil ignited in his left eye.
"From this moment onward," Lelouch commanded, voice resonating with unnatural authority, "you will obey me absolutely."
Her resistance lasted only a fraction of a second.
Then her expression emptied.
"I will obey," she said mechanically.
Around her, her captured soldiers were brought forward one by one.
Each met the same fate.
Within minutes, all of soldiers had been rewritten.
---------------------------------------------------------
A disturbance interrupted the operation.
One of Lelouch's officers approached swiftly and knelt.
"Your Highness, we have apprehended an additional individual attempting to flee the perimeter."
A man was dragged forward, bound and bruised.
"Who are you?" Lelouch asked coldly.
"I will never answer any of your questions," the man spat back.
Lelouch did not have the luxury of wasting time on defiance.
Without hesitation, he removed his eyepatch.
"Tell me everything you are trying to hide."
The crimson sigil flared in his eye.
The man's resistance shattered instantly.
"I serve Her Imperial Majesty—the Dowager Empress," he said flatly.
Lelouch's gaze sharpened.
"Explain."
"I transmitted emergency intelligence," the man replied mechanically. "I reported that Princess Carine's convoy was attacked by Clovis' faction… that they possess a method capable of disabling enemy Knightmares… and that Princess Carine has been captured."
Silence followed.
The implications spread across the street like a shockwave.
Silence fell.
Lelouch did not move for several seconds.
The Dowager Empress.
Which meant Eudisseus would soon be informed.
He exhaled slowly.
"So," he murmured. "The board accelerates."
The original plan had been elegant. Subtle. Lure Eudisseus out of his palace under controlled circumstances. Isolate him from his faction. Bend him to his will with the Geass—and, through him, seize control of his entire faction.
That option had now vanished.
If Eudisseus believed that Clovis possessed a weapon capable of neutralizing Knightmares, he would fortify himself immediately.
Since the Emperor's death, Eudisseus had already reinforced his personal security. Palace defenses had been tripled. Access points sealed. Internal surveillance intensified.
Infiltration was no longer possible.
Lelouch turned slightly, his cloak shifting in the wind between the immobilized machines.
"I cannot lure him out now," he said calmly. "And breaching the palace covertly is no longer viable."
Carine—now obedient—remained kneeling at his side.
"Then what is your command?" she asked tonelessly.
Lelouch's golden eye reflected the ring of captured war machines surrounding them.
"If subtlety is denied," he said quietly with a smirk, "we will need to proceed more… actively."