Chapter 14: The New Viceroy

Her chair creaked; the damned thing likely meant to be replaced but instead just moved here—just like she was.

Villetta’s new office was smaller than it should have been. More prominent than her previous one as Jeremiah's right hand, but far from what had been promised. She had envisioned something grander, an office befitting her role, a stepping stone to nobility, lands, and prestige—something to pass to the children she might one day bear, should she find a man worth marrying.

Her chair creaked again. A reminder of her diminished prospects and her dreams of nobility remaining just that.

Biting back anger, she admitted it wasn't a terrible space—high ceilings, tall windows, a polished mahogany desk, and a single, well-organized bookcase—but it couldn't mask the indignity. It was a functional office, never meant for someone important to spend more than a few minutes in before returning to a more lavish space upstairs, attended by at least half a dozen aides.

Villetta shifted, trying to find comfort, only for the chair to creak again. Her fingers tightened around her fountain pen so hard it nearly cracked. With a deep, frustrated breath, Villetta forced herself to release it lest she snap it in two and splatter ink across the desk. Instead, she rose, stepping toward the window. Sunlight stretched across the floor, lighting up her office, but while she felt its warmth on her breast, it did nothing to thaw the cold weight in her chest. She had no one to blame but herself—or so they told her.

Beyond the glass, Tokyo Settlement bore the scars of unrest. Streets where protests had been crushed were still being cleaned. Police vehicles patrolled, their presence a silent warning. Pedestrians moved with wary glances, tension thick enough to taste. The divide between Elevens and Britannians had never been wider.

That had always been the goal—but not like this. The Elevens were meant to know their place, and Britannians were to roam free, assured that this land was theirs by right of conquest. The separation was meant to be one of order, not fear.

Now, even commoners looked at their military like the numbers did.

Regrettably, this was the cost of recent events. The Shinjuku massacre, as the more…free media had coined it. The cover-up. The botched kangaroo trial was meant to cement Britannian dominance. Villetta doubted people were truly angry that they let 'Zero' walk after he brazenly confessed to regicide. No, she would bet her next paycheck that it was what Zero revealed that had set the colony on this path of unrest and increased terrorist activity.

None of it mattered to her now. She wasn’t a government official anymore. And like the rest of the Area’s garrison forces, she had been kept under lock and key, lest some incident spark new riots to replace the ones just quelled hours prior.

But there was something she could do.

As if answering her thoughts, there was a knock on her door. "Enter," Villetta answered as it opened and allowed one Cecile Croomy to enter, the woman carrying herself with much more tact than her superior, but Villetta had spent enough time around nobles to know when someone was displeased to see her, which was something she had expected from the A.S.E.E.C engineer.

And that was why she had requested her presence. "Excuse me, but you wished to speak with me, Dame Villetta?" Cecile asked after performing the proper bow to the woman who still nominally outranked her.

“Please, you can just call me Villetta. I hope I didn't take you away from anything too important." Villetta greeted, trying to break the ice.

"Not at all, Lady Villetta. Can I be of service to you?” Cecile's response offered little warmth, but she could work with that.

"I wanted to offer my thanks for what the Lancelot did the other day. If not for it and its pilot, I fear Lord Jeremiah would not be with us today.” Villetta started, which caught Cecile off guard. “I also understand that it must have been…difficult for you and the rest of your people to come to his aide after we overstepped our boundaries.” Villetta continued, and to Cecile's surprise, she could buy that the woman was genuine with her.

“But my Lady, with all due respect, you shouldn’t need to thank someone like me when you’re a Knight of Honour," Cecile replied, falling back into proper manners.

“It is because I have a Knight of Honour that I must swallow my pride and show my gratitude, else I wouldn't be worthy of that title." Villetta could admit that much at least; besides, further antagonism wouldn't help anyone right now. "I can also say that I'm not alone in that, as Lord Jeremiah is also grateful to you and the special corps."

“The Lord Jeremiah?” Cecile asked as she couldn't buy that the Margrave could show gratitude to a commoner, much less a number, but Villetta knew him best, and if she said it…"Well, if that is genuine, then I'm afraid I can't accept the apology, for it's not my choice."

“Pardon?” Villetta asked as she had believed she had been turned down at first, but it didn't seem to be the case.

Cecile took too much joy in what came next but couldn't help it. "It was Private Kururugi’s choice to enter the battle to defend Lord Jeremiah, Lady Villetta. Neither Lloyd nor I directed him to do so; it was quite the opposite. So, if you wish to express your gratitude, it must be to Private Kururugi.”

“Oh…is that right,” Villetta asked, as the idea of apologizing to a number…well, Cecile could see why it wouldn't be pleasant for someone as 'high and mighty' as a Pureblood. Still, if she refused, she would be making a liar out of herself, so either way. She walks out with a win.

Ultimately, Villetta chose the lesser of the two evils and bowed her head. "Well, if that is the case, then I shall seek to do so, as I'm sure Lord Jeremiah would as well."

“Is that right?” Cecile asked.

Villetta nodded. "While your impression of Lord Jeremiah can't be… respectable at the moment, I can assure you that his lordship has a privileged upbringing and can be more sensitive to detail than he seems."

“Well, I would imagine that makes it difficult for all of you. Having a superior like that.” Cecile noted.

“You could say that. What is Professor Lloyd like?” Villetta asked as the mood seemed to grow more cordial between them. They weren't friends, but Cecile was willing to converse with her.

“I also had a privileged upbringing and was quite self-centered," Cecile replied, to which Villetta gave a knowing smile.

"Only cares about how he feels about things?" She guessed, to which Cecile hummed.

“Oh yes, quite so.”

“He leaves all the tedious tasks to you.” She added, recalling moments when Jeremiah did the very same to her.

“And what he says today is the opposite of what he said yesterday.” Cecile took the chance to add one of her grievances with her superior as Lloyd, brilliant as he was, could be such a child at times.

“And yet he can remember yesterday’s trivia in minute detail.” Oh, Villetta could sympathize with that. What was it with powerful men and their refusal to own up to their own words, yet always ready to quote those and the actions of others?

“He thinks he’s already right, just stuffed with arrogance.” Cecile shook her head, recalling one too many instances when she had to all but beat it into Lloyd's head that he wasn't always right, which was why they had a team.

“While his lack of foresight constantly gets in him the most asinine of situations.” Villetta also recalled moments when Jeremiah's near inhumane loyalty to the royal family got him in hot water with nobles who, at the end of the day, were merely making jests and meaningless comments. Who hadn't joked about the emperor's apparent 'superior masculine prowess?' He had over 100 consorts and more than double that number of children; indeed, he had to be somewhat capable of pleasing his women.

“It’s beholding him to consider the feelings of others." Lloyd could be frustrating to work with as he could forget even simple courtesy if he is not regularly reminded.

"All of that makes him sound so bad," Villetta chuckled.

“It’s those very same traits that make you like him, right?” Cecile asked, to which the dark-skinned woman shook her head.

“Not particularly,”

Line break

Jeremiah had been a busy man since Shinjuku, even more so since Zero humiliated him, the Purebloods, Britannia, and worst of all, the Crown. Running himself ragged, chasing leads, and keeping the situation from spiraling, he had also dealt with a blatant revolt from Kewell and his ilk. Yet, his mind kept returning to that night.

The way Zero spoke, the way he carried himself—it was damning. It was distasteful to string up an innocent man, Eleven or not, but Zero's condemnation seemed more profound. There was something more, something Jeremiah couldn't quite place. He had reviewed the video and combed through his Sutherland's recordings, yet Zero's scrambled voice revealed nothing further.

But that was for another time. Now, he had something else to handle, so he left his drab office and tedious reports to make his way to the Lancelot's trailer.

Stepping inside, it was as cramped as it looked. Why weren’t they given a larger building? Why park in the corner of the base? No orders from Clovis or himself had dictated such isolation.

“Welcome, Jeremiah!”

Lloyd seemed to pop into existence behind him, startling him so much that he nearly reached for his pistol. "I wasn't expecting visitors today—certainly not a man of your rank. Are you here to arrest one of my people again?"

“Lloyd, you cheeky devil! You nearly scared me half to death!” Jeremiah barked, steadying himself.

“I’ve been told I have that effect. My apologies—wouldn’t want to upset the delicate nerves of a Margrave.”

Jeremiah grunted. “Hmm, I’d believe you if your words weren’t dripping with sarcasm, Asplund.”

“As if anyone has time for such,” Lloyd dismissed the notion. Then, after a pause, “Wait… have we met?”

“Are you implying you don’t remember me?” Jeremiah balked, his outrage growing as Lloyd showed no recognition.

“Well…”

"We studied at Colchester Imperial Academy. The same dormitory," Jeremiah groaned into his hand.

“Did we? Small world,” Lloyd said flippantly.

Jeremiah stared at him in disbelief. “I was a monitor!”

Lloyd's face was finally lit with recognition. "Oh, that explains it. I avoided busybody types with prying eyes."

Jeremiah recalled that well, mostly because he was always sent to find Lloyd. "You were constantly in trouble. Let's start with the five explosions from your unauthorized lab experiments."

Lloyd's casual demeanor faltered under Jeremiah's scrutinizing gaze. "Oh, did I? Sounds a bit extreme…"

“Oh? Then what about the home-brewed ‘drink’ that put several students in the hospital? To this day, I don’t know what you were thinking.”

Lloyd rubbed his chin. “There was a party… and my dormmate forgot to acquire beverages.”

"Oh, so you were just being helpful? Then, let's talk about the escape chute you built. Freshmen kept falling through it, and you neglected to tell anyone how it was activated." Jeremiah stepped closer, his larger frame blocking Lloyd's escape. "Ring any bells?"

Lloyd chuckled nervously. “Well, I do recall such events, but my motto is: never look back.”

His laugh did little to disarm the situation, but Jeremiah sighed. Some things never changed.

Jeremiah exploded. "And that makes it okay? Every stunt you pulled, they came after me for not stopping you! Do you know how much hell I went through explaining even half of that?" Every time, he was summoned to the principal's office. Every time, he had to apologize for his dormitory. He always failed to catch one slippery science student before the next catastrophe.

"Well, you don’t say. I do apologize, Jerry. I never meant to inconvenience you," Lloyd said, slipping past him. "But I suppose we’re even now."

"Even?"

"You did arrest our dear pilot, Kururugi, for your little ploy. Was that revenge, hmm?" Lloyd grinned.

Jeremiah scoffed. "Don’t be absurd. As if I would be so petty as to hold a grudge over your destructive but ultimately juvenile antics."

Lloyd shrugged. "Well, our Lancelot saved you from being killed by your fellow soldiers. Let's call it even, then."

Jeremiah hesitated. He had, in fact, come here for that very reason. "That's why I came—to thank you for your aid during that debacle. If not for you, Villetta would have arrived to find me already slain by that wretch, Kewell.

He spat the name with such venom that even Lloyd felt it. Betrayal by a comrade was never easy to stomach. But Kewell and the others would face a court-martial soon. Disgraced or not, Jeremiah was still a Margrave. Striking a superior officer would not be treated lightly. A dismissal with disgrace and ten years in prison would be lenient. More likely, Kewell would face at least twenty.

"Oh, I’d love to take credit, but I’ve been told it’s poor form when all I provided were the tools," Lloyd remarked, leaning back, hands going limp.

"I beg your pardon?" Jeremiah asked just as the door opened.

"He’s referring to Private Kururugi, Lord Jeremiah," Villetta replied, stepping inside with another woman.

"Oh, welcome back!" Lloyd greeted his assistant, worried she might be angry. But as he had done nothing (yet), she only looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

Jeremiah turned to Villetta. "Villetta? Shouldn’t you be busy with work? Wait, what does the Eleven have to do with this?"

Villetta hesitated despite discussing this at length over lunch with Cecile.

"Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald." Cecile rescued her, addressing him with a clear, firm voice that made him straighten instinctively. "As Lady Villetta said, neither we nor our superiors ordered your rescue. That decision was made by Private Suzaku Kururugi, who pushed to be allowed to intervene."

Jeremiah was stunned. The idea that he had been saved by a Number who had no reason to help him seemed insane. Yet no one else looked surprised—Villetta even nodded.

Cecile continued. "We also request that you acknowledge and formally apologize to Private Kururugi for the sham trial he endured. He contributed the most in Shinjuku when things turned against us, yet was made to suffer the most."

"What? But why would he…?" Jeremiah spluttered.

Lloyd leaned in. "If you'd like, I can play the recording where Suzaku made the request. Or will you ignore that piece of evidence, too?" He backed off when Cecile shot him a warning look.

"Or, if you prefer," Cecile said, "you can wait and thank him face to face. He should be back soon. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?"

"You expect me to bow to an Eleven?" Jeremiah asked, appalled.

"It would only be proper, Lord Jeremiah," Villetta replied.

"But… the honor of the Purebloods…"

Cecile struck back with a sharp retort. "Is clinging to foolish pride your idea of honor?"

Villetta, sensing Jeremiah's stubbornness, stepped in to smooth things over. "Lord Jeremiah, an act of heroism must be acknowledged. Is that not what the codes of chivalry teach? Can we truly call ourselves knights if we fail to honor even this basic tenet?"

She pressed on, carefully choosing her words. “Regardless of who he is, as a Margrave and knight, you must show Kururugi the proper respect. If nothing else, it will demonstrate that you can recognize the merits of your subordinates, regardless of personal feelings. Kururugi has displayed skill and loyalty—qualities we can both agree have been sorely lacking among our ranks."

Lloyd, observing, was impressed. ‘Oh, she’s good,’ he mused, seeing how well she played to Jeremiah’s ego.

Jeremiah took a moment before responding. “You’re right about one thing—I’m not a fan of this. But I would never bring shame to my knighthood or title by denying Kururugi the recognition he is due for his service to the Crown." His words brought a sense of relief to those present. He turned to Villetta. "I've always been a generous man. I'll put aside my pride and offer him my thanks… and a formal apology."

Villetta nodded. “I expect nothing less from you.”

“A praiseworthy decision,” Cecile added, satisfied. If it ensured Suzaku received what he was owed, she was happy to encourage it.

“That’s our Margrave Jeremiah,” Lloyd quipped. “A cut above the rest, right?”

With that settled, Jeremiah made another decision. “Let’s not waste time. You said Suzaku Kururugi would be returning soon? Then tell me where he is, and I’ll go to him.”

Before he could act, the door opened, and a new figure entered. Though recently arrived in Area 11, he was well known for his exploits, notably Britannia's victory over the Middle Eastern Federation, now Area 18.

Jeremiah turned and saluted. “Good afternoon, Lord Guilford. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

The spectacled knight returned no warmth, only a professional, assessing gaze. “Jeremiah Gottwald, do you have time to come with me? The Viceroy wishes to see you.”

"The Viceroy?" Jeremiah began but stopped himself. Though Guilford presented it as a request, Cornelia did not simply refuse. With Clovis' death fresh in her mind, her mood was bound to be even more formidable than usual. Yet, on the other hand, could he truly delay his apology to Suzaku? Choosing between a royal and a number seemed obvious, but as Villetta had reminded him, a knight's duty should transcend such things.

Even so, he had to weigh his options carefully. Fortunately, the right choice was also the one that wouldn’t land him in trouble.

Turning to Lloyd and Cecile, he offered a brief bow. "Forgive me, Lloyd, but I must postpone my apology to Kururugi. Making the Viceroy wait any longer would be improper.”

With that, he followed Guilford out. The knight, at least, had given him the courtesy of a moment to decide.

“Good luck, Jeremiah,” Lloyd called as the door closed behind them. Then, in a softer tone, he muttered, “You’ll need it.”

Cornelia was not someone he wished to cross, and unlike his sponsor, she had little patience for his eccentricities.

Line Break

Stepping outside the trailer, Jeremiah followed after his fellow knight, who seemed content not to say a single word. Still, he wished to fill the silence with something. "Pardon, but are we returning to the Viceroy's palace? If so I coul-”

Guilford cut him with the grace of a spear through the gut. "Her Highness is already on sight. She was inspecting the troops of one of our larger garrison sites in the Area capital when she heard that you were here, that's all." Jeremiah fell silent, looking away, unsure what to say before Guilford turned to him over his shoulder, his gaze still cold, if not colder. "She is not pleased, and neither am I."

"I…didn't expect much else from Her Highness, Lord Guilford. Area 11 might be a strategically vital region to the empire. Still, until recently, it had been a quiet posting with many more capable or experienced soldiers requesting to be transferred to hot zones or active combat." Jeremiah replied as they made their way into the facility's main building.

"That wasn't what I was referring to, Eden." Guilford's harsh retort had him wincing. Yes, he had also expected that but hoped it would be avoided. But it was a silver lining, was it not? At least he knew precisely what Princess Cornelia wished to know, even if he couldn’t think of much that wouldn’t end well for him.

"Your Area 11 chapter of the Purebloods is little better than the rest of these troops." Guilford continued as they entered and marched up to the command center, where soldiers and staff gave them passage with bows and salutes. However, most of those who saw the looks on their faces could tell that Eden boy was in for it, and not a single person was numb enough to step in.

"I understand and take full responsibility for allowing discipline and skill requirements to drop drastically without ever noticing." Jeremiah shoulder's slumped at that, though they were less of a fraction and more a club now, as with their losses after Shinjuku and the betrayal of Kewell and several others, they were down to just one-third their combat strength.

If Guilford believed his words, he didn't make any sign of it as he led him through his facility until they reached the hallway leading to the command center. There, they could hear Cornelia yelling at the base commander and Jeremiah wincing when he heard how biting her dressing down was on the poor bastard.

Guilford again hardly seemed moved as he glanced towards Jeremiah. "It seems like she's still busy. It would be wise if you wait, " he told him as Cornelia screamed the loudest she had since they walked over.

"Not get out of here and get started with that, and if you're not done by the end of the day, I'll have you demoted and sent to the North African Numbered units!" The 40-something career soldier that Jeremiah somewhat respected, a man with a larger and taller frame than even Jeremiah's, came sprinting out of his command center, crashing into the wall with how pissed and terrified he was before he dashed down the way.

Jeremiah gulped at the sight and wondered if he would be lucky enough to be leaving on his own two feet, as Cornelia wasn't known to suffer incompetence. Guilford stepped forward, bowing as she entered the room. "Your Highness, I've returned. As you requested, I have delivered to you Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald."

Jeremiah followed him inside and bowed even lower. However, he could still hear Cornelia's sneer as the terrifying woman sat on the commander's chair. To her back were 2 of her generals, both glaring at him nearly as hard as their princess. Cornelia's sharp, uncompromising indigo eyes looked the man over, with a level of disgust forming in her at what had befallen one of them, those select few that…no, she didn't feel with feelings, she dealt with results, and Jeremiah's were wanting to put it lightly.

"Tell me, Margrave, do you believe I am satisfied with Area 11?" Cornelia asked, her words coming off like a blade drawn from its scabbard.

Jeremiah kept his bow up, not daring to look her in the eye. "No, Your Highness. Presumptuous as it might be, I can say that the management of Area 11 has left you…unsatisfied."

Cornelia crossed her legs, tapping the armrest of her chair with her finger. To all the world, she appeared calm; she wasn't frothing at the mouth, screaming, or openly glaring at him. But he could tell it was a false sense of calm; underneath, she was a raging storm, and should he think himself infallible, he would be struck by lightning.

Cornelia proved as much as she replied. "You're right; I'm far from happy and unsatisfied. Why should I be with the mess you and your fools have allowed Area 11 to fall into? And if that wasn't a big enough blunder, you people, charged with protecting my brother, Clovis, your Lord, failed to do even that and had to inform my father that my younger brother would be returning to the Homeland in a casket."

The emphasis she put on that last one had the man shake in fear and slight sympathy. He knew more than any royal that Cornelia deeply loved her siblings, even the ones she could hardly stand. He had heard of how she grieved the loss of their favorite two younger siblings and could only imagine that she was going through comparable feelings now that Clovis was gone.

“Failures on all fronts, so Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald,” She leaned forward, her eyes piercing him like swords in a way that he didn't need to look up to see. “What excuses do you have for me?”

“None, Princess-!”

"You shall refer to me as viceroy; is that clear?" She cut him off, and he didn’t dare make anything of it.

“Understood, viceroy. Forgive my blunder.” Jeremiah stated before he continued. "As for my prior mistakes, I offer no excuses; I am ashamed to agree with you on your critiques of our performance." If he phrased it right, he could at least protect Villetta from Cornelia’s wrath. His right-hand woman was a hard worker, loyal and intelligent. If given the chance, she could go far. And if that meant taking all the responsibility so she would only face redeployment…so be it.

Cornelia's gaze narrowed as she watched him, looking for any sign of weakness. Still, to his credit, he didn't present any. At least he wouldn't pretend he wasn't to blame. “Then tell me that is Project Eden and what was so important you allowed my brother’s murderer to make a mockery of the empire and get away.” Again, there was emphasis on that.

“I don’t know, viceroy.” Jeremiah kept it honest and short; it was the only approach that would end with him still having his head, much less a job after this.

“And yet you allowed Zero to escape?” Cornelia was ready to kill him then and there and be done with it, but she held herself back…barely. Guilford, all the while, was kept to her side, an unmoving statue.

"It…wasn't for no reasons, Viceroy, that I made that decision. With the information I had then, it was the best choice to preserve Britannian lives." Jeremiah replied.

Cornelia glanced at Guilford, her knight meeting without a word. At that moment, the two silently discussed handling this, with Cornelia seeking his input. With a nod, he gave his answer. Cornelia turned to Jeremiah and ordered that he stand straight and, “Explain. Now.”

“Of course,” Jeremiah gulped, praying that he would word things right before he explained the situation, starting with how they were first deployed. None of them questioned why Bartley requested them when he already had the police and regular military on the case and no means to suspect that the terrorists had a knightmare, an outdated piece of scarp it turned out to be. He continued about how the Glasgow had managed to give him the slip, ejecting its damaged arm into his attack, which he thought Cornelia was impressed by, but he didn't stop to examine it further and question her.

From there, it was Villetta’s story about how she followed orders and didn't destroy the truck when she had the chance. The orders came straight from Bartley, with Jeremiah being able to offer up proof, that being the transcripts of the battle if Cornelia wished to confirm for herself later. His right hand followed the orders and allowed the stolen truck into the ghetto, where they were then held back from retrieving it in favor of the royal guard.

"I admit that at the time, I and several others voiced confusion, as the royal guard's duty is first and foremost the protection of their royal charge, but as Bartley insisted that the orders came from former viceroy Prince Clovis, we didn't refute them, and after the fact, it seemed like it was true," Jeremiah added. "Or if it wasn't, Prince Clovis didn't call him out for it over any of the comns.”

“That didn’t fit my brother’s behavior…” Cornelia mused. She still looked displeased, but at least she didn't seem as deceptively calm yet furious anymore. In its place, she was inquisitive, devouring everything he said. “Did you inform any of you what the cargo was at this point of the operation?”

Jeremiah shook his head. "Yes, viceroy." There was a pause before Jeremiah added. "Though, we did question the rationale of the situation in private lines. None of us seemed to know about any weapons program of the sort in Area 11 or could fathom how the Elevens could get their hands on it. It was also odd that Prince Clovis would be so…involved, for lack of a better word. Again, there should be records of those conversations recorded and saved."

"It is expected that soldiers don't question their orders. Continue." Cornelia ordered, as she would request all this proof Jeremiah was speaking of, but if he was smart and was reporting things faithfully, it would create an odd picture. Her brother was hardly a stateman and even less of a military man.

But Clovis knew that and delegated work to others, as he often told her when they found the time to call to catch up. It was part of why he always had time for these stupidly lavish parties and for his painting. So why would he get involved with this when he claimed it was as delicate as poison gas retrieval when he would know it wasn’t something he was equipped to handle?

With hindsight, it only made it clearer that the truck was carrying something vital to…Project Eden. He was most likely panicking and just trying to recover it while limiting the number of possible people who would have seen it. Though why he let it get into the Ghettto was beyond her.

That damned pigsty wasn't the home territory of any meaningful terrorist group, at least according to records on Terrorist groups in Area 11. So why would he risk something so damaging to himself for the chance to capture those who obtained it? Was it sheer hubris? Or was he just that worried that if this no-name outfit could learn of his secrets and steal evidence of it, there was more possibility that a more organized and well-equipped terrorist group could do the same?

Jeremiah continued to explain things. He couldn't paint a complete picture but informed her that after a while, they were ordered in to wipe out the ghetto, something which…well, the entire world heard. He kept details light with the beginning, as nothing was out of the ordinary, though he did highlight parts in which Zero was believed to be involved, if not admitted to.

“Sometime during the operation, Villetta got a distress signal from the Royal Guard and went over to investigate and…well, next thing she can recall, she was out of her Sutherland, and her unit was gone," Jeremiah explained, as he couldn’t mix his words here.

Guilford's face grew tense, much like his princess’, at the idea that someone would just…leave their knightmare in an active combat zone without cause. "What do you mean she was out of her unit? Did she disembark in the middle of the battle?"

"She believes so but can't recall how or why. She's repeatedly testified that her memories are foggy for that moment." Jeremiah had to cover the wince as even Villetta accepted how weak that sounded.

"She feigns no knowledge of committing such a childish mistake, you mean?" Cornelia, unlike him, had little reason to trust his subordinate's word and less mercy. Still, she would withhold any judgment until the end. “So you believe that was Zero’s work?”

“Yes, Viceroy. She did confirm the location was indeed where the Royal Guard had been under distress, but they were dead; autopsies would confirm that those killed by gunfire would be felled by the same weapon that would rob Prince Clovis of his life." Jeremiah was sure of that, having that exam done by 3 separate MEs.

“Those felled? What of the rest?” Cornelia asked, wondering if Zero had attacked them with a blade or blunt instrument.

"It…would seem that they were mauled…by rats, Viceroy." At her incredulous look, he remained firm. "The autopsies found bit marks indicative of rodents, with rats being the most likely. Also, it would seem they were swarmed as they found numerous bite marks belonging to at least 20 rats per person."

"Drugs in their system?" Cornelia asked, as there was no way that several trained soldiers would just be felled…by rats without some other cause. Hell, how would that many gather in one place? Were the numbers just that dirty and barbaric that they would attract and entertain that many filthy rodents?

"None," Jeremiah reported, only making her want to curse.

"Of course, the masked bastard would have such mysterious; what other events do you believe were Zero?" she asked, hoping the rest wasn't as stupid as that part. Jeremiah continued from there, bringing up how he and another had managed to find and chase down the Glasgow, which, at the time, seemed to have been the Eleven's only knightmare. He had already damaged it and would have finished it sooner if the pilot wasn't as slippery as they proved to be.

They ended up on the rail line running through the ghetto with a train passing through, which the Glasgow seemed to use to try and escape. He stopped it and ordered his wingman to give chase, only for them to be hit by friendly fire and killed in the incident. He recognized the unit responsible as one Sutherland with Pureblood markings, which could only be Villetta’s stolen unit.

It fired on him before he could realize it was a stolen unit. He was forced to retreat via ejection, so from there, what he knew was what the reports said happened. Still, from what he learned of things, it seemed like Zero took command, having commandeered the train, which they later learned, by pure chance, happened to be transporting a shipment of Sutherlands through the ghetto. Armed with their weaponry.

They have good reason to suspect that Zero's leadership led to their sudden and seemingly unstoppable loss of units as the Elevens became more organized and deadlier; he dared say they were fighting more like proper soldiers than animals.

“I’ll read that myself and conduct a thorough investigation of the survivors, so let’s skip to when my brother was killed,” The under your watch went unsaid but was so heavily implied she might as well slap him with him. “How did Zero get through?”

“Viceroy, Prince Clovis had ordered units that were holding the encirclement into the fray, replacing them with those that were guarding him," Jeremiah reported, keeping it to himself that he had thought it was the damned fool, Bartley that gave such an unwise order. "This was before Zero caused a cave-in/sink effect, which swallowed up most of our forces."

“He did…what?” Cornelia asked. The woman looked less furious and more dumbfounded by the sheer stupidity of such an act. No doubt, a military woman like her just couldn't understand how someone would do the tactical equivalent of trying weights on your body before you went swimming.

Jeremiah couldn’t offer anything. "I don't have any words or explanations for it, Viceroy. I can prove that the orders came straight from him, but as to why he gave them…"

‘Clovis, you idiot, did you want to die?’ Cornelia thought as she loved her family, faults and all, but dammit, did they seem to compete to see which could give her the worst migraine. “So he wasn’t guarded as well?”

"That's correct. Though that is all we know as we suspect Zero was disguised as one of our soldiers, that's just speculation, as no evidence links him to the crime. The soldiers manning the entrance to the G1 could have seen something. Still, they committed suicide not even an hour after Clovis was slain.” Her frown only grew more profound at that; suicide didn't imply innocence but shame or fear of the repercussions.

Either way, they could question or torture the dead for information. For all they knew, it could be an elaborate red herring as if Zero could orchestrate a situation where soldiers could be killed by rats; who to say he couldn't figure out some other wacky means to trick or force men to take their own lives?

“We know that Bartley wasn’t in the room when the assassination took place, as he claimed that a soldier had reported the capture and that Prince Clovis ordered him to secure it. He was promptly knocked out and found later, restrained and locked in a closet.” Jeremiah had to keep himself as he recalled the fury he felt when Bartley was found, not at his post and alive, while Clovis bled out in his arms.

“Were there any reports of the gas being found?” Cornelia cut to the chase, only for Jeremiah to shake his head.

“None, and through questioning, not a single soldier posted to the G-1 saw anything that could resemble the gas capsule.” He repeated what he had told Bartley when he had tried to use that…well, it didn’t feel so much as an excuse now.

“So Bartley was either lying…or my brother's dirty little secret was used against him, but why lure out Bartley?" Cornelia came to the same conclusion as he did about it, but Bartley had been transferred to the Homeland long before she arrived, and not even she could get them to send him back for questioning about it.

“As of the crime scene, we found no video, no eye-witnesses, no suspicious behavior anyone can recall, no fingerprints or DNA. For all intents and purposes, it was like Zero was the perfect assassin as it was the same gun that killed Prince Clovis' command staff before he was gunned down with a pistol." Jeremiah reported.

Cornelia went silent, sharing another look with Guilford, as that didn't paint the most presentable picture. Either Zero or someone under him was just that exceptional an assassin and marksman to kill an entire room of soldiers without any getting shot off, or her brother truly surrounded himself with idiots.

Unfortunately, what she had seen in the 30 hours since she touched down in Area 11 made it seem like it was more option B than option A.

As she nursed the growing headache at the utter incompetence her brother seemed to foster, Jeremiah continued as he put a gag order on their soldiers and covered up what happened in Shinjuku and questioned Bartley how the general refused to give up anything about those at the time, noticed discrepancies.

When it came to the following part, Jeremiah bowed lower than before. "When Zero made his appearance, viceroy, I have ample reason to believe that he did, in fact, have poison gas thanks to his knowledge and possession of that recording.” Cornelia could detect that he was genuinely apologetic and regretful, if nothing else. "I am humiliated that I fell for his rouse. I believed that it was a choice between attempting to capture Zero and risk him releasing whatever secrets Project Eden was while also unleashing what was assumed to be poison gas or allowing him to work to prevent both."

“The presence of the unknown knightmare that fired on us was linked to an official who took a bribe but, sadly, took his life before he could be arrested, so we don't know who wired him the funds or how they contacted him or when," Jeremiah added, which was just another setback as the bastard pretended to be confused, only to then go rabid of them and as he was in his kitchen, dove to a knife which she used to stab himself in the gut, the man bleed out on the way to the hospital, all while mumbling he couldn’t talk.

“Have you at least been able to find out anything about this project Eden?” Cornelia inquired, only for the man to remain bowed.

"I'm afraid to report no, Viceroy. The only people that would know anything, locations, objectives, personal and activities, are either deceased or Bartley. A full-scale investigation would be impossible when I don't know where to start, and I struggled to keep order in the interim."

Cornelia took a breath, silent as she absorbed all that and thought it over. Jeremiah kept his piece as the princess mulled over his fate. He could admit that things didn't look good, and he had little to show for it.

What felt like centuries later, Cornelia spoke. “Make no mistake, what you’ve accomplished isn’t exceptional, Margrave Jeremiah…but you served by brother well, as any good soldier does.”

Jeremiah didn't relax even under her praise, which was proven to be the right boom when Cornelia slammed her fist into the armrest, her eyes nearly bursting with rage.

"But what I take issue with is the fact that you and your Purebloods would dare use the death of a royal of your Lord for something as pointless as political gains! That little scheming is the direct cause for this bloody mess, as you might have called Zero and begged him to reveal himself and humiliate you, the empire, and the royal family!" She raged at him, the woman like a lioness, and he was just a mouse. Shivering under her rage, Margrave dared not look up.

"What was your evidence to convict the Eleven? What did you have that could have possibly linked him to the crime? Did you even bother to come up with plausible evidence? Or did you just bank on no one questioning it?" Jeremiah had nothing to respond to that, which didn't appease Cornelia as she stood from her chair and approached him, her steps getting his heart rate all the more.

Glaring down at the bowing man, she looked close to drawing her blade and ending him here and now. "Well, this is the result of that stupidity! Zero was given the perfect chance to destroy your case and mock the justice system. You only found yourselves in a position where Zero could dance circles around you because you were already fools!” Each insult struck him like a bat to the chest as the man sank lower in his bow till he had taken a knee, his head never rising.

Cornelia again reigned in her fury, as she wanted to—oh Lord, did she want to—but she couldn't be so immature about this. "Make no mistake, if I didn't need locals who weren't completely useless, I would have you and everyone else stripped of their command and kicked from the military, but because you're the best of the worst, you get to remain.”

“You’ll be demoted by half, your Pureblood unit will be downsized to half its pre-Shinjuku strength, and it will report directly to General Dalton. If he finds even a single issue with you, if you question, disobey, or fail his orders, I'll have you all court-martialled. Is that understood?" She hit him with a massive verbal gut punch that left him breathless.

“Yes, viceroy.” He squeaked out.

"Now, get out of my sight before I shoot you." Jeremiah slowly rose, wobbly on his feet and trying to keep a straight face, but it was hardly possible after such a dressing down and being demoted. He would get no sympathy from Cornelia or Guilford as he marched out.

When she was sure he was a distance away, Cornelia let out a loud, guttural, and especially unlady-like groan. “This entire situation is just one mess on top of another bloody mess." She cursed as she just wanted to return to the palace, find a bottle of 20-year-old wine, and snuggle up with Euphie as music played. Instead, she was back in an impossible case, just like back then.

“How much more will these damned islands take from me. I lost Lelouch and Nunnally to the damned Elevens, and no Clovis too? How many more royals need to die here?” She asked herself, Guilford placing a hand of support on her shoulders as she understood just what it meant to her to find Zero.

She had been unable to find the truth behind consort Marriane’s death. When she heard the news of Clovis' assassination, she had petitioned to be the one sent to Area 11, even fighting Princess Marrybell about it as despite the latter being specialized in counter-terrorism, Cornelia just couldn't refuse to allow another one of her siblings to die without a real explanation, and more importantly, the guilty party in hand.

Cornelia could still recall that day, a rare moment when she, Schneizel, Clovis, and Euphie could meet without court business getting in the way. Clovis had requested the viceroyship of Area 11. She didn't think he was suited, but he was set on governing these islands because he saw it as some puzzle left behind by Lelouch for him to solve.

'All you did was end up dead like he did.' Cornelia bitterly thought as he hadn't even helped his case by surrounding himself with what seemed to be nothing but yes-men and idiots. But something changed…

“Eden is the key. “ She started as she turned to leave, Guilford falling into step behind her. “My brother was far too soft to order a massacre unless he was truly desperate, and Zero made it clear that it was worth it, at least to him.”

"Shouldn't we first address the matter of Shinjuku, Your Highness? Princess Euphemia has been quite vocal about it." She pursed her lips at that.

“She’s been adamant on that, almost as much as she was about getting that Eleven placed into a school.” Cornelia sighed. Euphemia was similar to Nunnally, or maybe she was what Nunnally would have blossomed into.

That connection made them far too compassionate and idealistic. Euphie abhorred violence and, after she saw Zero's debut, wanted to know if it was true, which she gained by speaking with…Kururugi and seeing Shinjuku for herself. Ever since, she had demanded that they make a statement condemning the slaughter, though Cornelia had refused. Clovis, regardless of the why, had the full right to massacre some numbers. People were just being whiny about it; they'll get over it with time.

But when she had time, she would hunt down Zero and make that masked bastard tell her all there was to know about Zero before she would deliver his head to her father.

"If I'm not mistaken, she met with Lord Ashford." Guilford continued, though this was one of the rare conversations he couldn't see.

"She did and managed to convince him to allow the Eleven to enter the school. It's not ideal; numbers are getting a higher education, but he did save Euphie's life, so he has earned that much, at least." Cornelia replied, as while it wasn’t technically illegal for numbers to get a complete education, most institutions rejected them out of hand, and most employees wouldn't hire them even if they got the qualifications. Why take the risk when you could fire a Britannian?

Ashford, like his younger days, was something of a maverick. He bucked that trend from what they could find; his school even offered generous student loans to a number of honorary Britannian students, the only one in the city that did so. Though Euphemia said that she turned it down and offered to pay for it herself, it was easy as the girl rarely spent her royal stipend and just let it collect in her bank account.

"Perhaps you could stop by the school, have some tea with Lord Ashford, and catch up on old times," Guilford suggested as she had got along swimmingly with the old goat back in Pendragon, him being Lady Marriane's first backer helped solidify his judgment and character in her eyes and outside of that, he was just a breath of fresh air when she dealt with snakes and liars on the regular.

Lady Marriane even mentioned that she and Lord Ashford had talked about a possible arranged marriage between Lelouch and Rueben's granddaughter, Millicent. Of course, the two would never meet, and with the attack, the arrangement fell through.

Cornelia shook her head to clear her head as they approached the entrance to the base. Stepping into the afternoon sun, they made their way over to her limo, which would take them back to the Viceroy's palace. “If only, but I don’t have the time for that. We have a terrorist to find.”

Line Break

I was able to do it again, using up all the notes I had for that chapter in a single chapter, but I ran into a little issue that turned out to be nothing. Chapter 13 was written using the material for chapter 8, and when I started on this one, I naturally looked for chapter 9's notes doc, only to find nothing. I feared I accidentally deleted it, but then I realized that chapter 9 never existed, as that's the interlude I was talking about. I even had it penciled in the timeline I drew up for the story. So, like I said, it was just nothing.

With this chapter, however, I couldn't just immediately jump to Suzaku's first day at Ashford as I've hinted at in the last two chapters; there are still some things that needed to be explored or introduced for later as I've made plenty of changes to the timeline and can't just ignore them. It would be hypocritical of me to do so when I've long despised stories that make cosmetic changes to the original story I've read or watched, but that's all. It's almost as bad as stories where characters act…well, out of character without reason, build-up, or consequence.

Shirley shooting Villetta is a prime example. She’d never resort to violence, but her world shatters when her father dies Narita—only to learn the boy she loves was responsible. Tricked into following him, she confirms Lelouch is Zero and hears Villetta’s plan. She’s no fool—she knows what happens to captured terrorists. Despite everything, she still cares for Lelouch…so she shoots Villetta to protect him. It’s clear she’s not okay afterward, forcing Lelouch to erase himself from her memories so she can move on—an act that costs him one of his closest friends.