Turn 1 (Phase I) Results:
Third Generation: 61+12 = 73
"Well, I have to admit I'm impressed Lelouch."
You swallow a huge gulp of water and, gasping for air, you turn to your mother.
Marianne vi Britannia looks stunning and regal even after several hours in a giant robot.
You, on the other hand, can only imagine the state you're in. Sweating profusely, your custom-tailored pilot's suit soaked-through, and your hair plastered to your head as you desperately attempt to recover yourself on a bench outside the arena.
Still, for your mother's praise, you manage a strong smile.
"Thank you, mother."
She reaches out, laughing, to ruffle your hair. "Looks like I really pushed you to the edge, huh? Well, I suppose after such a performance you'll be allowed to set the menu for tonight. A soldier marches on their stomach just as much as their feet, after all."
You perk up again, grinning. "Thank you mother, I-"
"Big brother! You were amazing!" A shout interrupts you as a speeding ball of light-brunette hair makes impact with you. Your ten year old sister, soon to be eleven, hugs you tightly. "I wanna' be just like you and momma' when I grow up! When can I start piloting a knightmare, mother?"
"Nunnally..." Marianne sighs, reaching over to pull your sister away. "You've gotten your dress all sweaty." She shakes her head. "Perhaps when you turn twelve. As it is, I don't think you're quite large enough to reach the controls."
Your sister pouts.
"Don't worry Nunnally, now that I know how to pilot one, I can show you a few tricks." You smile at your sister, always ready to indulge... well,
almost always ready to indulge her smile.
"Only while I'm there to supervise, young man." Marianne states firmly, and you duck your head slightly. "You've done very well for a relative neophyte, Lelouch, but you aren't quite ready for a student of your own."
"Yes, mother." You quickly nod.
Results: Devicer Trait Gained (+2) Martial. Knightmare Frame piloting skills acquired. Increased closeness with your mother.
*~*~*~*~*
Royal Connections: 43+4 = 47
You take a deep breath and stride forward, keeping a smile on your face as you approached your target.
It had taken serious consideration to determine who best to publicly approach at a society ball like this. A number of your half-siblings were simply too famous, well-known, or influential for you to make public ties with right off the bat. Someone like Odysseus or Guinevere, for instance, would be a signal that you were either making alliances to support one of the favorite contenders to the throne, or attempting to collude to move your own interests forward, even at such a young age.
No, that would be jumping the gun.
Instead, you had opted for an easier target.
A
safer target, too.
"Sister Cornelia." You greet her as you approach, the violet-haired woman flipping her hair artfully as she smiles at you and takes the drink you've offered her.
"Lelouch, how are you? I've heard from Marianne that you've been training with the glasgow. How do you find the machine?" Your sister asks, as though she doesn't know already.
You reply with confident responses about the slight sluggishness of some of the pedals and how you still need some work here or there. Following that up, you restate many of your mother's compliments on your progress, even as a number of nobles dally nearby.
Because
that is the real goal tonight.
Although Cornelia is the captain of your mother's guard unit and a knight sworn to her service, you and she have not had any personal political ties to each other. It's common knowledge that the li & vi Britannia lines are closely allied, but making a public statement of
individual affiliation with each other is another thing entirely.
If you had been a bit more confident, you might have chosen to approach Clovis, but... your blonde half-brother is a bit of a... what did your mother call him that you were warned never to repeat?
Ah, yes, 'a ninny-mother's-boy.'
That would be a more audacious statement of garnering support, since his mother isn't very friendly with your family. Instead, merely allowing Clovis to spend time with you and Nunnally at various functions.
Still, perhaps it is best that the entire affair goes by, remarked upon only quietly and knowingly by several well-to-do families. In a way, keeping to their expectations is a good strategic move, in and of itself.
"-and, should you be available in two years, I'm sure Euphemia would love to approach you to deepen the bonds between our lines." Cornelia states softly as you approach the dance floor together.
"Of course." You nod. "Nunnally would also be delighted by making our friendships more official."
Cornelia smiles and nods, even though the deal is weighted in your favor. After all, if your positions were reversed you'd gladly make such a concession for Nunnally.
Rewards: (+1) Diplomacy, no trait. Cornelia li Britannia's SL opens at (1), to be added to the Front Page.
*~*~*~*~*
Hit the Books: 83+13 = 96
Ruben K. Ashford, Duke of Ashfordshire and its surrounding lands, inhaled deeply and set the papers aside.
You ruthlessly suppressed the urge to fidget as you carefully slid one leg over the other in a gesture that appeared to make you seem relaxed and in control.
The older man, something of a grandfather to you really, took out a pair of glasses and poured a generous helping of the rich brown liquid in one, then two fingers in the other, which he presented to you.
You raised your eyes silently, but after a moment's hesitation, accepted. The alcohol content of the glass would actually be less than the glass of wine you were now allowed at dinner.
"Good, good... a meeting between two men should always allow a little social lubricant." The man nodded.
You sipped at the chilled scotch, scowling a bit as it burned its way down to settle like fire in your stomach. The accompanying warmth
was nice, though.
"So, Your Highness... as this is a bit more official than the times we've met before, I would ask formally if you'd prefer me to address you by your title or if you're agreeable to continuing with the more familiar terms we've been on prior to this point?"
You frowned at the question, but nodded. "You can keep calling me Lelouch, sir, at least in private."
The Ashford patriarch smiled. "Very well then, Lelouch, and please call me Ruben. When someone does me this great a favor, they more than earn the right to call me by my first name."
You flushed slightly. "A-alright then, Ruben."
The man sighed and leaned back, taking up the sheaf of papers with his free hand. "Now, about...
this. When Marianne mentioned you were looking to learn a thing or two about how money works, I had envisioned...
something else when I let you look over our books to see how formal accounting works." He takes a sip. "Still, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised, Marianne was always one to impress, even at your age."
You say nothing, not sure what to contribute as you take another sip.
"We'll handle the matter internally." Ruben frowns. "I have a good idea of exactly where the money is going and what's happening behind the scenes, given the department head for that section. It wouldn't impress investors to see exactly how sloppy our security was to allow this to happen, though, so the whole thing will need to be kept as quiet as possible." His eyes look towards you. "That is, of course, if the Ashford Conglomerate has your agreement to proceed in such a manner?"
"Of course, Ruben." You state awkwardly. "I wouldn't want to interfere more than I already have."
The man chuckles. "Oh, this is the kind of interference I can take a great deal more of." He empties his glass. "If you ever need anything, Lelouch, make sure to give me a call."
"I may just do that, Ruben." You smile as you mutually extend hands and give each others' a good shake.
Rewards: Financial Sleuth Trait (1/6) of Intrigue added to Stewardship. Financial skills acquired, +300 Annual Income. Increased favor from Ruben K. Ashford, head of Ashford Conglomerate.
