After the dice had been cast and the world was still reacting to Prince Clovis's declaration of his ambition to rule both the world and the stars, Cornelia li Britannia stormed through the palace and confronted him.
Without hesitation, she grabbed him by the collar, her eyes blazing with anger.
"What were you thinking, Clovis?" she demanded. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? Do you know how furious Father, our brothers, and our sisters are going to be after hearing that speech? The nobles who barely tolerated your actions in the banquet won't show you any mercy now."
Her voice carried both frustration and concern.
His speech hadn't merely shocked the public.
It had shaken the very foundation upon which the Britannian nobility and the Imperial Family stood.
His promise of equality directly challenged the hierarchy that had existed for generations, and the reaction across the Empire was growing more intense by the hour.
"Anger?" Clovis replied calmly.
He brushed her hand off his collar without the slightest hesitation and continued walking down the corridor.
"How could there possibly be any more anger after everything I've already done? After Guinevere... after Area Eleven... after shattering everyone's expectations of the weak and indecisive Clovis they thought they knew?"
"That isn't the same thing, Clovis," Cornelia argued as she caught up to him. "Before, you only provoked Guinevere and the nobles aligned with her faction. But now..."
She paused, searching for the right words.
"Now you've declared war on the beliefs of the entire Empire."
Clovis stopped.
Slowly, he turned around to face her.
There was something unsettling about his expression.
His smile was warm, almost comforting, yet his eyes carried a conviction that made even Cornelia hesitate.
"Look, Cornelia," he said, his voice low and steady. "I know you're a very sophisticated young woman. Intelligent. Beautiful. And genuinely caring in your own way."
He took another step toward her.
"But have you ever stopped to ask yourself what anger really is?"
Cornelia remained silent.
Clovis continued.
"No matter where you look, the world is drowning in it."
"Britannians are raised to believe they're superior, taught to despise anyone they consider beneath them—the Japanese, the Chinese, and countless others."
"The Japanese burn with anger because their nation was crushed beneath Britannia's heel."
"The poor curse the rich. The rich fear the poor. Citizens hate their government. The government distrusts its own people."
"Brothers resent brothers. Nations resent nations."
He spread his arms slightly.
"The whole world is an angry place."
His smile widened.
"People think anger is something to suppress."
"I disagree."
"There is nothing wrong with anger."
He looked directly into Cornelia's eyes.
"The problem is that anger without purpose."
His voice lowered.
"People don't need someone to take away their anger."
"They need someone to give it direction."
"And that's exactly what I'm going to do."
For the first time since confronting him, Cornelia fell completely silent.
She stared at her younger brother as though she were looking at a stranger.
"What... happened to you, Clovis?"
Her voice had lost its anger.
"You're frightening me."
She frowned.
"You're so different now... so different from the brother I knew."
Clovis let out a quiet chuckle.
"Really?"
He smiled faintly.
"Now you're worried about me?"
He turned away once more.
"I think your concern would be better spent on Lelouch. He'll need you far more than I ever will, especially with how unforgiving the Middle East can be."
He waved a hand casually without looking back.
"Farewell, Cornelia."
"I have a guest waiting for me."
Without another word, Clovis walked away to receive the envoy Schneizel had sent to observe and secretly spy on him.
Cornelia remained standing in the corridor, watching his retreating figure.
She had come looking for answers.
Instead...
She left with even more questions than before.
...
"Is this really Area Eleven?"
Syura clicked his tongue in disgust as he stepped out of the carriage, his gaze sweeping across the streets with unconcealed contempt.
"Why did Prince Schneizel send us to assist that pathetic excuse of a prince? This place is revolting. It reeks of Elevens, and to make matters worse, it's ruled by a delusional prince obsessed with equality, half-breeds, and mudbloods."
He made no attempt to hide the racism dripping from every word.
To him, the Japanese were nothing more than filthy Elevens, while Prince Clovis was an embarrassment to the Imperial Family for advocating equality between Britannians and the conquered people.
How could that weak prince even entertain the idea that they were equals?
The very thought disgusted him.
Syura, the only son of Prime Minister Honest, was a tall, broad-shouldered young man with tanned skin, sharp green eyes, and striking white hair.
His arrogance was infamous throughout Britannia.
As the Prime Minister Honest's son, he rarely needed to lower his head before anyone.
Even members of the Imperial Family often tolerated his behavior because of his father's enormous political influence.
Furthermore, he prided himself on possessing what he considered "pure noble blood."
Even Prince Schneizel showed him a measure of courtesy.
So why should he humble himself before a prince governing what he considered a land of half-breeds and mudbloods?
Several pure-blood nobles nodded in agreement, clearly sharing his opinion.
Only Princess Marybell remained silent.
She looked at him coldly.
"You've gone too far, Syura," Marybell said sternly. "If Prince Schneizel hears you speaking like this, even he won't overlook it."
She knew Syura could get away with insulting many members of the royal family.
But if he ever dared direct that same disrespect toward Emperor Charles, Prince Schneizel, or Princess Cornelia...
He would lose his head.
Syura merely shrugged.
"And he won't care."
A smug grin spread across his face.
"Why do you think he sent me here in the first place? To remind your upstart little brother where he belongs."
His eyes roamed the area with casual disdain and then stopped.
Princess Euphemia had just entered the courtyard, her gentle presence a stark contrast to the hostility radiating from Syura's entourage.
His gaze dropped, just for a moment, to the shapely curve of her figure.
The heart-shaped swell beneath her dress.
He quickly masked his perversion with a practiced, gentlemanly smile.
"What a pleasant surprise, Princess Euphemia."
He bowed just enough to appear courteous.
"Have you also come here to... serve your dear brother, as the rest of us supposedly have?"
Although the words sounded respectful, his tone carried nothing but mockery.
Everything about him—from his posture to the lazy smile on his face—made it obvious he hadn't come to serve Prince Clovis at all.
To Syura, this assignment was little more than a vacation.
"You shouldn't insult my brother."
Slap!
Without the slightest hesitation, Euphemia struck him across the face with all her strength.
The sharp crack echoed through the corridor.
Everyone froze.
Syura slowly turned his head back toward her, a bright red handprint already forming on his cheek.
Euphemia glared at him, her normally gentle expression replaced with unmistakable anger.
She had heard every insult directed at Clovis.
Her beloved older brother had endured enough humiliation already, and she had no intention of standing by while another arrogant noble mocked him to his face.
She had been curious about the reinforcements Prince Schneizel had promised to send.
Instead, he had sent this.
An insufferable bastard.
Hidden just around the corner, Cornelia watched everything in silence.
After her heated argument with Clovis, she had quietly followed the group, intending only to observe.
Instead, she ended up hearing every word of Syura's insults... and witnessing Euphemia's slap from beginning to end.
"You... you..."
Syura clutched his burning cheek, his face twisted with humiliation and rage as he glared daggers at Princess Euphemia.
"Do you even know who my father is? Do you know which prince I serve? How dare you lay a hand on me, you bitch!"
Consumed by anger, he raised his hand, intending to strike Euphemia back.
Before he could move another inch, Clovis stepped between them and caught his wrist in a firm grip.
"You're quite bold," Clovis said calmly.
Syura sneered.
"And you're dead."
Seeing Clovis standing directly in front of him, Syura instinctively tried to overpower him. Everyone knew Prince Clovis possessed neither Cornelia's strength nor Schneizel's military training.
He expected an easy victory.
Instead—
Stab!
Without the slightest hesitation, Clovis pulled a dagger from inside his coat and drove it straight into Syura's right eye.
"AAAAARGH!!"
Syura let out an ear-piercing scream.
"You... piece of shit!"
"You'll pay for this!"
He collapsed onto the floor, writhing in agony as blood poured through his fingers while he desperately clutched the ruined socket.
"My eye...!"
"Marybell... help me...!"
Princess Marybell instinctively stepped forward.
Then she stopped.
Her feet refused to move.
That brief moment of hesitation didn't escape Clovis.
"Oh? You need help?"
A smile spread across his face.
"Allow me, Lord Syura."
He crouched beside the screaming noble.
Grasping the dagger still embedded in Syura's eye, Clovis slowly twisted the blade.
"No... no...!"
Syura's entire body convulsed.
Then—
Rip.
Clovis pulled the dagger free.
Syura's mangled eyeball came with it.
"AAAAAAARGH!!"
Fresh blood gushed down Syura's face as the ruined eyeball landed on the marble floor with a sickening wet sound.
Several nobles turned pale.
Some of the ladies screamed in horror.
Others instinctively stumbled backward.
Clovis glanced down at the bloody eyeball lying near his boots.
"Hm."
He tilted his head.
"It seems... something is still missing."
Syura's remaining eye widened in terror.
"No..."
"Please...!"
"No!"
Ignoring every plea, Clovis calmly raised the dagger once more.
Stab!
The blade sank into Syura's remaining eye.
Another horrifying scream echoed throughout the palace.
"No! Please! Stop!"
Again, Clovis twisted the dagger before pulling it free, leaving Syura completely blind as he rolled across the floor, crying, screaming, and begging like a broken animal.
No one moved.
By then, Clovis's personal guards had already flooded into the corridor, surrounding every noble present with disciplined precision.
Even Princess Marybell found herself unable to intervene.
Princess Cornelia stood behind her with a sword resting lightly against her neck.
"Don't," Cornelia warned quietly.
Marybell clenched her fists but remained still.
Clovis casually wiped the blood from his dagger before turning toward Villetta.
"Did you record everything?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Villetta lowered her head respectfully.
"Every word has been recorded."
"Excellent."
Clovis looked down at the blind, broken Syura lying at his feet.
"Since Prince Schneizel failed to teach his dog any manners, I'll do it for him."
He spoke calmly, almost casually.
"First, you insulted a member of the Imperial Family."
"Second, you attempted to assault Princess Euphemia."
"Third, you openly provoked the ruling prince of Area Eleven while claiming Prince Schneizel's authority would protect you."
Clovis crouched until they were face to face.
"You know what, Syura?"
"Your father."
"Your noble blood."
"Your family's status."
"They're all worthless in front of me."
"You're nothing."
"Just a dog that barked at the wrong master."
He stood once more.
"Villetta."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Release the recording to every major news outlet in Britannia."
A cruel smile formed on Clovis's face.
"Let the Empire witness how Prince Schneizel's own subordinate openly insulted the Imperial Family and attempted to attack a Britannian princess."
He paused for a moment before delivering the final blow.
"I believe this raises a rather interesting question."
"What kind of prince allows his followers to behave with such blatant disrespect?"
His smile widened.
"Perhaps Prince Schneizel is becoming... overly confident."
"Perhaps he's forgotten where loyalty truly belongs."
"Or perhaps..."
Clovis looked toward the trembling nobles.
"He intends to challenge the authority of His Majesty himself."
Silence consumed the corridor.
Even Cornelia felt a chill run down her spine.
She had conquered nations.
She had burned cities.
She had crushed rebellions without mercy.
Yet even she recognized the true horror of what Clovis had just done.
This wasn't merely revenge.
It was political warfare.
Once that recording spread across Britannia, Prince Schneizel would find himself under intense scrutiny from every faction within the Empire. His allies would hesitate, his enemies would seize the opportunity, and even Emperor Charles might begin questioning his son's ambitions.
One carefully orchestrated incident...
And Schneizel's entire European campaign could be delayed before it had even truly begun.
"No... please... have mercy, Your Highness."
Syura's voice trembled as he lay broken on the floor.
He knew exactly what awaited him if the recording reached the public.
His own execution would be the least of his worries.
His entire family could be massacred for insulting members of the Imperial Family and attempting to raise a hand against Princess Euphemia.
And if the Imperial Court somehow chose not to erase his house...
Prince Schneizel certainly would.
Sacrificing one noble house would be a small price to clear himself of any suspicion and calm the Emperor's anger.
Clovis looked down at him without the slightest hint of pity.
"Take every member of Prince Schneizel's entourage into custody."
His voice echoed through the corridor.
"They will receive a fair trial."
He deliberately emphasized the word, causing several nobles to shudder.
"And make sure none of them die."
His smile never faded.
"I don't want anyone escaping justice through suicide. Keep them alive, no matter what."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
The Imperial Knights saluted in unison.
At Clovis's command, dozens of knights immediately surrounded Schneizel's entourage from every direction. Rifles were raised. Swords left their scabbards.
There wasn't a single opening left.
Suzaku personally led the operation, his expression firm as he directed the arrests.
"Your Highness!"
One of the attendants immediately dropped to his knees.
"Please show mercy! We had nothing to do with Lord Syura's actions!"
Clovis raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"You still call him Lord Syura."
A faint smirk appeared on his lips.
"That alone tells me everything I need to know."
The attendants turned pale.
"You're all standing on the same side of the board."
No one dared answer.
Among the entire delegation, only Princess Marybell accepted her arrest with remarkable composure.
She neither resisted nor pleaded.
She simply held her head high as the soldiers placed restraints around her wrists.
Clovis watched her for a brief moment.
There was discipline in her silence.
A quality he could appreciate.
Still...
He had no intention of withdrawing his order.
Without another word, he watched as every member of Schneizel's entourage was escorted toward the prison under heavy guard.
Only after they disappeared did Clovis quietly smile to himself.
Schneizel...
Did you really think you could provoke me into making a mistake?
Did you believe this little stunt would put me on the defensive?
His eyes narrowed.
Unfortunately...
You chose the wrong opponent.
I didn't just defeat you across a chessboard.
I'll defeat you in politics... in strategy... and in every scheme you attempt to weave.
This may only be the opening move of my conquest...
But one thing has never changed.
You've never beaten me at chess.
Not once.
Clovis slowly turned toward the palace windows, gazing at the vast skyline of Area Eleven stretching beneath him.
A quiet chuckle escaped his lips.
"Now..."
His smile grew wider.
"Let the game truly begin."