gurabad | 051 » touch me like you touch nobody

[ Schneizel's lounging in bed spans the moments it takes Kanon to cross the room from the bed to the adjoining bathroom. It is a morning like any other; in the wake of Kanon's departure, the still-warm sheets, folded aside, begin to cool. The imprint of their bodies remains upon the mattress for now, but later, fresh bedding will await the prince and his aide when they retreat for the night.

Kanon himself leaves for his shower with strands of hair out of place, only to return immaculate — and there is a sort of enjoyment to be found in observing the transformation, day after day, subtler than what was once described as Kanon Maldini cleaning up his act.

At 6:15, when Kanon's footsteps announce him before he speaks, Schneizel turns away from the window, no less prepared for the day's agenda, inclining his head. Kanon receives an easy smile, one that suggests that nothing would please his prince more than to hear the details of today's schedule presented aloud. Taking a seat, Schneizel motions for Kanon to join him on the settee. ]

Thank you, Kanon. Please go ahead.

[kanon sits as he is bid, with a courteous bow that hardly needs to be made in the privacy and comfort of their shared chambers. he takes up his electronic notepad, although he does not need to look at it — schneizel's schedule is already memorized in his mind, albeit in lesser detail.]

In thirty minutes, we will be due for our morning meal. Breakfast today is prosciutto, burrata, and smoked salmon, accompanied by traditional Britannian whitebread with raspberry or cloudberry jam. I have also specially requested soft-boiled eggs topped with Sologne caviar and crème fraîche. Your choice of teas.

[the detailed breakdown of schneizel's morning meal is hardly necessary, but kanon loves to whet his prince's appetite.]

At eight o' clock, you will be expecting a call from the chancellor of Germany to discuss the particulars of a non-aggression treaty with Britannia in the event of a German withdrawal. By nine, you will be at the Dallas Research Institute to hear a progress report from the team at In Vogue. At ten-thirty, you will hear a briefing from the Knights of Euro Britannia, which should not take long. By eleven, you have the option of taking an hour for rest and relaxation... or you may have an early lunch.

Edited 2018-11-24 04:12 (UTC)

[ Schneizel's smile widens indulgently, appreciatively, as Kanon includes this morning's menu in his thorough list of items on the schedule. Some would consider the half hour between now and breakfast a decently generous, reasonable allowance — others might call the wait torture. Kanon has reduced it by approximately a minute. ]

Both tempting choices... Nevertheless, we won't opt for the early lunch.

[ 6:20. Schneizel rises from his seat, untying his dressing gown. His change of clothing, crisp and clean, hangs ready to wear after a shower of his own. ]

We have enough to look forward to as it is.

Will you use the hour for rest and relaxation, then?

[it is a mark of their close bond — and kanon's proclivities — that even after all these years together, the earl still angles his head as if to catch a glimpse of schneizel as he unties the front his robe.]

I suspect that your idea of "rest" involves reviewing the Manfredi documents we received last week...

[ At that, Schneizel chuckles, a perfectly warm sound, humour shared between longtime companions. He lingers in the doorway to the bathroom, robe loose. ]

Perhaps you'll appreciate twenty minutes of reading before breakfast yourself, Kanon. Tragically, reports after the fact shed no light on the man's entirely sudden and unexpected breakdown...

[ In place of a shrug, Schneizel lifts one hand, and lets it fall. ]

At any rate, of course, Marrybell will be in touch.

[thoroughly rewarded by this most glorious view, kanon sighs and mock-swoons, placing a hand over his breast as he smiles with unconvincing — but angelic — innocence. truly, his highness is generous beyond compare...]

Then I will look into his activities and contextualize the report by eleven. Please enjoy your shower, Your Highness.

[ Before the door slides shut behind Schneizel, Kanon is treated to the sight of a knowing smile, this softer curl of the Second Prince's lips, assuring him that Schneizel looks forward to his aide's input, too — or it simply acknowledges the enjoyment that Kanon might derive from Schneizel's taking a shower. Soon, the sound of water running starts up on the other side of the door.

The implications of Michele Manfredi's unlikely suicide must take a backseat to the German chancellor's call, and when Schneizel reappears in the bedroom, impeccably dressed, damp hair drying, he leans over Kanon only for a moment. His gloved fingertips come to rest on the back of Kanon's collar, as if to caress his neck, or to fasten closed the clasp of a necklace. Kanon's flawless makeup and hair are undisturbed. ]

Shall we?

[ They have five minutes to select their choice of tea to complement the upcoming meal. ]

[sir michele manfredi was a good man by all accounts, the sort that schneizel and kanon need in greater supply — or rather that kanon needs in greater supply, to surround his prince with good influences — and the circumstances surrounding the man's suicide seem hazy at best. there are any number of reasons why someone might want a good man slain, of course, the most prominent of which is that he may not have been as good as he seemed on the surface. instinctually, however, kanon suspects the involvement of the geass order. but why? and for what purpose?

his immaculate eyebrows are furrowed in deep concentration by the time schneizel's fingers make contact with him over his clothes — and then kanon snaps up, smooths over. placid beauty.]

Yes, Your Highness.

[he rises to his feet.]

Your afternoon is free of scheduling, by the way. Nothing else is pressing. Our attendance was requested at the wedding of the younger Marchioness Armistice tonight, but it might be difficult to secure a date at such short notice...

[ Schneizel's gaze skims the lines of the document in front of Kanon, flicks over Kanon himself as they both straighten up. Smoothly, his hand sinks back down to his side. ]

Oh? [ He cocks his head. ] It wouldn't do to decline the invitation. Our attendance was requested, and we have no scheduling conflicts, so we will attend, date or no.

[ With even steps, Schneizel leads the way out of the bedroom, steady footfalls sounding against the polished floors. ]

I'll leave the matter in your capable hands, Kanon.

...Yes, Your Highness.

[in truth, the one reason kanon did not immediately schedule the wedding into schneizel's evening was that he did not want to secure a suitable date for his highness — not that kanon was a jealous man, exactly, but most women were attracted to the prince as a general rule. some took a dance with him as an invitation to his bedchambers. other, times it was simply irritating to smell someone else's perfume on his prince's neck at the end of the night.

but date or no implies that the prince is fine with the mild social faux pas of arriving without a woman on his arm, so kanon types it into the calendar app as he walks, mentally making a note to double-check his inbox over lunch to find something suitable for schneizel to wear — at least five of the royal fashion houses will have sent him something.]

And if I may... personally, I'm in the mood to have Royal Darjeeling this morning.

[ The fact that Kanon's reply comes after a brief pause perhaps gives away something of his private opinions on the matter left in his capable hands, and it earns him a sidelong glance. As far as Schneizel is concerned, however, succeeding or failing to secure suitable company tonight is of no real consequence; should someone be found in time, she will accept for a reason, but even the absence of any date is easily explained. Neglecting social courtesies is not. ]

A wonderful suggestion.

[ Commenting on Kanon's odd reluctance over the wedding invitation is wholly unnecessary, and so they move on from the topic for the time being, settling to enjoy this morning's breakfast spread, topped off with the prospect of Germany's cooperation. The call finishes promptly, on a promising note — the chancellor, recognizing the need for restored stability, understands the sense in a peaceful solution.

At 8:40, they are en route to their next appointment. ]

[as pretty as kanon may be, he is not employed as schneizel's personal aide simply for his looks. he takes detailed notes during the call and secretly records it for good measure; by 8:40, he has finished his review of manfredi's recent documents, and found nothing even remotely resembling psychological instability. so the plot thickens.

by 8:45, the avalon is well on its way to the dallas research institute. they are projected to land on time. kanon, for his part, is furiously typing away at his desk. no longer concerned with matters of state security, he is instead caught up in securing a robe of sapphire blue with gold trimmings for schneizel to wear to marchioness rafaela armistice's wedding — the groom has humbly requested that all male attendees wear blue.

halfway through booking the delivery, kanon realizes that that includes himself, too.

before he can sigh and look at the designer's less ostentatious offerings, however — a regular suit will do, he figures, perhaps in baby blue rather than the more stately sapphire — a young lieutenant knocks timidly on the door of his office. "earl maldini?" he asks, not without a slight tremble to his voice. "could i have a moment?"

kanon furrows his brow, but relents. "of course, lieutenant," he says kindly, not without a look at the man's stripes to be certain of his rank. "what seems to be the matter?"

the man makes his case known. haltingly. in too many words, he articulates clumsily that he doesn't usually do this — isn't normally attracted to men — but kanon's singular beauty is just... unlike anyone else i've ever seen and... i know you must be busy, but maybe, with the coming holidays, you could spend some time at my family's country villa...

it's then that kanon remembers — this particular young officer is erasmus von rutherford, the eldest son of a family of no particular consequence save that their titles and lands far outstrip his own. which isn't an issue, exactly, save that it leaves kanon with fewer ways to politely reject the poor boy.

"i'm afraid i already have plans..." kanon begins, politely, but the young man only grows more incensed.

"please — can't you just give me a chance? i can give you everything you've ever wanted, i swear! i'm not that bad-looking, right? come on, i'm a catch, we can have some fun — maybe even just for the summer, if you don't want anything long-term —"

they go back and forth for some time, erasmus growing more persistent while kanon wonders if he can just clock the boy over the head with his handgun — but then at last the young man blanches slightly, bites his lip. "shitfuck," he swears abruptly, finally making it clear that he's not quite the earnest young thing he's trying to present himself as. "you really are fucking prince schneizel, aren't you?"]

Kanon, a word before we land? And a good morning to you, lieutenant.

[ On the heels of the covetous lieutenant's outburst, the door opens, and Prince Schneizel himself enters Kanon's office, quite unfazed by the remarks he undoubtedly overheard. Erasmus von Rutherford flushes crimson nonetheless, posture stiffening, eyes wide.

"Y-Your Highness— All hail Britannia!" the young man chokes out as he backs himself into the wall to scuttle sideways towards the exit. In his haste to flee, he trips over his own feet, and scoots backward along the floor until he finally pulls himself up, bolting down the corridor.

One could point out that technically, the lieutenant was mistaken — Kanon prefers his position on the receiving end, after all.

Gracefully, Schneizel steps away from the door, and approaches his aide's desk. ]

Lieutenant von Rutherford would benefit from a transfer away. Wouldn't you agree?

[even kanon has to suppress a snort of laughter as poor erasmus von rutherford scuttles out of the room like some bizarre human crab, but it manifests only as a slight flare of his nostrils as he glances at the clock. 8:53. so much for his precious fifteen minutes of work time before landing. no matter. he'll find time to choose a suit between briefings.]

He would benefit from realizing that not everyone is interested in his family's money. Why would I need his when I have my own?

[briefly, he wonders if perhaps they need to be a bit more discreet. most of their staff members put the pieces together upon noticing that the prince and his aide have adjoining rooms on the avalon, but the earl had assumed that a "don't ask, don't tell" policy went without saying. he wonders, also, if he should spend less time on his personal appearance. it benefits his highness that kanon is beautiful at social gatherings, but perhaps it is less so if his good looks are proving a distraction to the soldiers...

sighing in disdain, kanon closes his laptop, intent on giving his prince his full attention.]

What did you want to discuss, Your Highness?

Edited 2018-11-26 18:11 (UTC)

[ Kanon sighs, but Schneizel laughs — no more than a few notes under his breath, as if the Erasmus incident has become a private joke. There are countless men like the lieutenant, others at the ready to take over his duties. Some may prove themselves better equipped to resist human nature.

In a predictable world, Kanon is a rarity, and measures to preserve his freedom of movement are an effortless decision. ]

How free is the afternoon before the Marchioness Armistice expects us? Marrybell and I have a conversation to continue. Also, I'd like to review this morning's notes.

We have nothing scheduled between the hours of eleven and four. By five, we should start getting ready. Reception is at six.

[with a smooth sliding motion of his hand, followed by a few taps, kanon pulls up his electronic organizer and authorizes a transfer of the relevant documents to schneizel's phone. once that is complete, he leans back in his chair and looks up at schneizel with a pleasant and professional smile.

his eyes, however, speak of besotted obsession and sheer joy.]

Anything else?

[ Approval clear in the way that his gaze tracks Kanon's fluid movements before their eyes meet, Schneizel answers with a shake of his head. The Avalon will shortly make its descent. ]

That will be all for the moment. I trust we're on schedule despite our surprise visitor.

[ Of course they are — Kanon is, as ever, an asset in every way, and the interruption was a minor inconvenience at most, in fact serving to discourage his amorous admirer from further attempts to accost him, sooner rather than later. Lieutenant von Rutherford steals one furtive, sullen glance at Kanon as the prince and his aide pass by upon exiting the airship, but the young man then beats a hasty retreat.

For the next hour and fifteen minutes, Nina has their undivided attention. The team presents schematics, projected results, agrees to deliver preliminary tests within a month. Even so, Nina appears frazzled, anxious to report leaps of progress instead of plodding steps.

"You've been working hard, Nina," Schneizel reassures the girl. "I can see that — we all see it, and we all have complete faith that the final product will be a resounding success." ~~No pressure.~~ ]

[there are some teams that must have the expectation of progress dangled over them, but nina's team at in vogue regularly meets and exceeds expectations. nina's anxiousness to please is palpable; kanon doesn't fault the girl. she's young, he figures, and desperate for something to latch on to. someone has to tell her that she's doing well enough. she needs someone to live up to her crystallized memories of euphemia. that, or she needs to be taught how to let go of them.

it doesn't suit either kanon's or schneizel's needs to fix her, though, and the earl isn't emotionally or physically available enough to be nina's therapist. since he doesn't have the time to mend her fractured heart, he offers shallow friendship, pleasant distractions. as schneizel makes a point of speaking and socializing with each individual researcher, kanon teaches nina an efficient and pretty way to pin her hair up.

she laughs; she blushes a little. she's not ugly, but she's not attractive, either, and the blush turns her nose splotchy. "you're really nice, kanon," she says. "you're like an older brother."

"an older brother wouldn't be so good at styling your hair," he quips in response, and another researcher — an older brother himself — wholeheartedly agrees.

by ten, they are on the avalon once more, and takeoff is expected at 10:08. kanon, ever by schneizel's side, decides to strike up conversation as they walk towards the conference room.]

What did you learn, Your Highness?

[ The briefing will commence punctually, which means a good fifteen to twenty minutes before the grand duke and the remaining grand masters establish contact — the empty conference room may be just the substitute for the peace that Erasmus von Rutherford shattered earlier. The doors slide open moments after Kanon asks his question. Schneizel steps through, and takes his seat. ]

I believe the team is on track for a demonstration next time — that should give us an indication of the resources we'll need. After that, we can discuss funding with the Toromo Agency.

[ Lacing his fingers together in front of him, atop the table, Schneizel regards Kanon as though all is right with the world — they have no cause to think that it won't be, soon enough. The pieces on the playing field are at their fingertips. ]

Under your positive influence, Kanon, I'm certain that Nina will achieve her full potential.

[kanon maldini never truly cleaned up his act, not really. bold and daring as he always is behind closed doors, he seats himself upon schneizel's table, crossing one long leg over his knee. technically, he is breaking protocol to do this — one should never be so arrogant as to address a britannian prince from above — but this isn't the first time that kanon has flauted this particular rule, and besides, he loves to look at his prince from all sorts of angles.]

I still have my doubts about her stability. Still, she's made such leaps and bounds in such a short amount of time. I would love to see her... blossom.

[schneizel, he thinks, is truly the ideal man. tall and statuesque, with sweeping golden hair that makes him look positively divine, he far outstrips odysseus and even clovis (god rest his soul) in sheer attractiveness. kanon's eyes lid halfway as he admires his prince with unabashed hunger.

for a moment, he wonders if schneizel will ever tire of this, of being salivated over by a slavering beast. but then again, schneizel knew that kanon was a beast when he tamed him, brought him home.]

We'll divert funding from the California research team, then?

[ Kanon's new vantage point necessitates an adjustment in Schneizel's posture; he leans back in his chair, gaze raised. A flicker of distinct, amused interest is Kanon's reward. It dares Kanon to make his next move.

Taming Kanon Maldini was never about breaking his spirit, about reforming a delinquent to mold him into the model subject — he would be forgettable, another face in the crowd, were he a mere yes-man.

There is no doubt in Schneizel's mind that Kanon, multifaceted, won't disappoint, even if he has to act within the small window of time left until the start of the briefing. Slowly, Schneizel's right hand nears a lock of Kanon's hair framing the man's face, stopping short of touching Kanon. ]

Once we have a working prototype. It would be a shame to impose restrictions on an innovative project.

Mm...

[the lovely earl maldini does not merely sit still and allow schneizel to touch him. acting on a sudden impulse, he turns his head with a sudden snap of his jaw, seizing the very edge of the middle finger on schneizel's glove between his teeth. tipping his head backward, kanon pulls the glove off of schneizel's hand, slow and sensual as dripping cream.

when at last its cuff slips off the prince's fingers, he lets it fall into its lap. fingers splayed, the empty glove casts the shadow of schneizel's hand on kanon's groin.]

True — no sense rewarding them with an expanded budget before they've given us their due.

[coy and cutesy, he presses his cheek into schneizel's hand.]

I just want to keep track of the financials so we don't have any issues in the future.

Edited 2018-11-29 22:48 (UTC)

[ At any given point, Schneizel could interrupt the sequence of Kanon's next move, could withdraw one hand to counter with the other, could stand up — all simply to watch his aide adapt anew. Instead, he allows Kanon's rapid shift from feral to docile to play out, keeping his hand still, poised near Kanon's mouth as it bares a sliver of wrist between sleeve and glove, and then the heel of Schneizel's hand, his palm and his knuckles, his fingers.

When his discarded glove lands in Kanon's lap, spared any traces of Kanon's makeup, Schneizel stirs at last, palm curving slightly to accommodate Kanon's cheek. ]

Of course.

[ The glove stays where it fell a moment longer, an extension of its owner's hand. Then Schneizel's free hand reaches for it, passing across Kanon's thighs, catching its cuff between index finger and thumb.

Of course they will have no issues. ]

[they shouldn't do this now, not when they are anticipating a call from euro britannia that might arrive at any moment, but kanon is betting that euro britannia will dial in exactly on time and not a second sooner or later. the earl's cheek is warm and soft — smooth and flawless, too, with the aid of his primer and foundation. he leaves no product on schneizel's fingers.]

Incidentally, before we start this call, I noticed something of... extremely minor import.

[kanon nuzzles into his prince's hand; he presses a kiss into his palm with the triumphant air of a cat who has just brought a slain mouse to its owner. his lips are infinitely plush — perfectly moisturized.]

Manfredi's autopsy report suggested that the man killed himself sometime in the afternoon on May 6. The timeline surrounding the discovery also corroborates this as a fact. Yet... when I checked the financial logs, I noticed that Michele Manfredi apparently approved a transfer of official Holy Order of Michael funds to a private account associated with Area 9 — well after he was dead, on May 10.

[having made his point, he pulls away.]

A little too egregious to be a clerical error, don't you think? And yet, a mere 500,000 Britannian pounds is hardly worth the assassination of the Grand Master of a chivalric order...

[ Just before Kanon sits back, Schneizel's fingertips brush against his lips while the prince's other hand elegantly plucks the glove in its hold out of Kanon's lap, and then Schneizel undoes Kanon's handiwork, both hands gloved once more. He rests his curled fingers against his chin.

Kanon's slain mouse of extremely minor import is in fact a fine, plump specimen. ]

He was well-liked, to my knowledge, close with his subordinates — and Sir Andrea Farnese.

[ None of whom should have the authorization to access the funds in question — another order's Grand Master included — unless Manfredi was careless, indiscriminately trusting. Sir Andrea Farnese, at least, will be present for the duration of the call. ]

You're right to keep track, Kanon, even of a mere 500,000 Britannian pounds.

[ Of interest now might be transactions from this Area 9 account. ]

I thank you for your kind words, Your Highness.

[perhaps, if he is lucky, he will be rewarded even further for his work by day's end. as it is, kanon bows his head in graceful acknowledgement of the praise he has received, then slips off the table, looking every inch the dutiful aide once more.]

I have nothing further to report, but I will continue to investigate the issue. There may yet be other numbers that have been overlooked. Oh — but in the meantime, do you like this robe? It is a little bold for a wedding, I admit, but I thought you would look stunning in it...

[casually, kanon pulls his phone from his pocket to show schneizel the royal blue ensemble, casual as when they were once schoolboys showing each other the suits they'd picked out for prom night.]

[ Schneizel draws himself up as Kanon moves, turning in his seat to glance at the image on the screen of Kanon's phone. Almost immediately, he offers Kanon an approving nod. ]

We won't run the risk of stealing the bride's spotlight, but I have no doubt that you will look stunning to match.

[ In other words, Kanon's choice is perfect.

With the minutes ticking away, the briefing returns to the foreground — exactly on time and not a second sooner or later, Euro Britannia initiates the request for a private channel. Grand Duke Velaines appears onscreen, flanked by the Grand Masters of Raphael, Uriel, and Gabriel.

Euro Britannia's chief concerns: the casualties at Narva, and a replacement to don Michele Manfredi's prematurely discarded mantle. Andrea Farnese, beneath the composure he maintains throughout, seems profoundly affected by these losses. ]

[it isn't kanon's place to speak out of turn, and so he doesn't — the fact that he is afforded the privilege of listening in on the conversation at all despite being a lowly aide in standard britannian uniform is already a testament to the fact that he is schneizel's right-hand-man, his second commander de facto. simmering beneath the surface of polite condolences given and received is the debate over who should be manfredi's successor. the man apparently had a favorite of sorts, an honorary britannian by the name of shin hyuga shaing, but the japanese boy's appointment is being undercut by suspicion, mistrust, and mild racism.

gaudefroy du villon of the order of gabriel and raymond du saint-gilles of the order of uriel are both calm, measured, composed. unfazed by the sudden and mysterious suicide of their colleague. andrea farnese is far less so.

on his laptop, kanon takes notes. he is recording the conversation as the men speak — but, during a lull in the tensions, he does take some time to reserve the sapphire blue robe for schneizel, plus a navy suit from the same fashion house for himself. his highness expects him to look stunning to match, after all, and baby blue would be too understated if he expects his aide to be by his side during the night.]

[ The call ends inconclusively — that is, the grand duke will approve Sir Manfredi's successor at his discretion, strengthening Saint Petersburg's defenses meanwhile, and mainland intervention is on the table. Velaines agrees to have the remains of an enemy Knightmare shipped over for research.

As the briefing draws to a close, Sir Farnese speaks up a final time, somber. "At Narva, our forces were overwhelmed. Sir Manfredi knew the risks involved in answering the summons to Saint Petersburg, knew that the Holy Order of Michael could meet a similar fate on the battlefield... Some claim he took the coward's way out, fearing inevitable disgrace, but the man was no coward." Farnese lowers his gaze, lifts it again. At Schneizel's slight tilt of the head, he concedes, "Nor was he a man who made enemies..."

Gaudefroy du Villon prolongs the discussion; interjecting, he crosses his arms. "Now, the next man to follow in Sir Manfredi's footsteps has large boots to fill, and he went far before his time, make no mistake! But what is this, some sort of conspiracy theory? Sir Farnese, who could possibly have drawn Sir Manfredi's own sword and used it to kill him? Another ghost? No, this is no good. Let us remember Sir Manfredi as he was in better times, and let it go."

Hastily, before the call runs over time, Grand Duke Velaines brings it to a decisive end, and the conference room grows silent.

Schneizel's attention returns to Kanon. ]

What do you think, Kanon?

[ The plot thickens indeed. ]

My honest opinion?

[the question itself is rhetorical. schneizel always wants kanon's honest opinion. closing his laptop for the moment, kanon swivels in his chair, facing his prince head-on, as an equal.

or perhaps something less than that.]

For now, I'm proceeding with the theory that Manfredi's death and the financial embezzlement are two separate incidents.

Let's start with Manfredi's death. I'm inclined to believe that Farnese is genuinely shocked and knows nothing of it. I looked into his past history with the man — his grief seemed genuine, and he has good reason for it to be so. One could argue that he might be faking his grief so as to spearhead and perhaps manipulate any investigation into the circumstances of Manfredi's suicide, but the man has always been an exemplary knight. [in other words: intelligent, loyal, and quick with strategy and tactical battlefield maneuvers — but never a mastermind.] I don't believe it's in his nature to play such multidimensional games of chess.

That leaves the other three — Velaines, Du Villon, and Saint-Gilles — ...or do you suppose I'm being too soft on our most handsome Grand Master?

Edited 2018-12-02 22:44 (UTC)

[ Schneizel's hummed laugh, low and fond, bespeaks his appreciation for Kanon's opinions, for Kanon as a sounding board on the same wavelength. ]

I'm inclined to agree — Sir Farnese as we know him stands to gain nothing from a fellow Grand Master's death. [ From any attempted dismantling of another chivalric order. ] Granted, perhaps only he or Manfredi's protégé could feasibly have caught the man off-guard, but Farnese had a sound alibi.

[ It's eleven o'clock, and Schneizel rises to his feet, turning to make for the doors. ]

Du Villon, owing to his nature, may be off the hook as well, and one would imagine that Velaines hopes to maintain Euro Britannia's relative autonomy. Still, it would be negligent not to keep abreast of all Britannian affairs...

Yes. And you know as well as I do that the issue of the weapon being Manfredi's own sword is no issue at all.

[kanon is not inclined to say the word geass out loud, but they are both well aware of what britannia's child soldiers can do — and the way the emperor likes to make assassinations look like tragic accidents.]

For now, I'll do as our intrepid Britannian reporters do before they meet their untimely ends... follow the money.

[schneizel's aide, too, rises to his feet, though as he follows his prince it occurs to him that schneizel never did mention what he planned to do with this hour.]

Might I ask where you are headed, Your Highness? Do you mean to contact Princess Marrybell?

[ Schneizel's eyes meet Kanon's; the look confirms what neither of them needs to voice. Yes, in this world, it isn't terribly difficult to kill a man without staining one's own hands. ]

In light of today's findings, it occurred to me that she might like to give her knights a mission in Saint Petersburg. You're free to spend our hour of rest and relaxation as you please, of course.

[ Whether that means accompanying Schneizel, or attending to other business before lunch. ]

You already have a head start on the Manfredi documents.

Then you'll be headed to the private conference room? I suppose I'll work from my desk, then.

[as much as kanon and schneizel are nigh-inseparable, the earl is fairly certain that it might be best to give schneizel some alone time with the sister that is arguably his favorite. schneizel is quite fond of all of his sisters, of course, but marrybell holds a special place in his highness's lack-of-heart for being both obedient and competent. she has the best qualities of euphemia and cornelia combined.

not that that would stop him from disposing of her if that were ever necessary. but as with all things, they both know this.]

That missing money isn't going to find itself, after all...

051 » touch me like you touch nobody

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