Suzaku loathed the news he bore, but what more, he loathed delivering such news. He knew how his friend would react, and, given his commitment to the young woman, knew that this would bode horribly for their people.
All the same, someone needed to do it, and it would be for the best if he heard it from someone he trusted. Euphie would have been the most obvious choice for the role he had stepped into, but the mere thought of placing her in danger – for he knew that his friend could react only violently – made him grimace. He would gladly shoulder the responsibility if it meant that Euphie would be safe from harm. It was the least he could do as her knight.
The vast throne room was dark and empty when he slipped past the sentries posted by the imposing doors. The chandeliers hung silently, a ghost of their former liveliness. As he walked beneath them, he couldn’t help but think back on that night when he – as well as the Court – had witnessed the death of their Prince and the resurrection of the human that was dormant within every one of their people. For the first time, he had visibly enjoyed himself at one of the necessary court functions, all thanks to the witch. And while Suzaku had never really liked those from the Order, he couldn’t deny that he had been grateful for her presence that evening.
The King was slumped over in his throne. Though his heart was still, and had been for centuries, Suzaku had never seen him so dead in the past years of their friendship. He clenched his jaw; he wouldn’t be surprised if he laid waste to the throne room in his grief. He knew how attached his friend had become to the witch. It was only a matter of time until he caved into his passion.
But before Suzaku could even kneel before the throne, his voice echoed among the vaulted ceiling and flitted around the silent crystals.
“You love my sister, do you not, Suzaku?”
“…as a knight shou–”
“As a man. To a woman. You love her, don’t you? You’ve loved her, haven’t you? For quite some time.”
The King looked up, and from the fringes of his black hair, the Knight could see the life burning within the violet. Taken aback, he straightened up. This wasn’t going in the way he had prepared for. What was Lelouch up to?
“You have. I know this. I’ve seen the way you look at her, and heard how you speak of her. Even when it’s beyond the duty of a knight, you still protect her. Like you are now.”
“My lord, please, consider your subje–”
“So you must understand my position, Suzaku. It was no mere dalliance that she and I had. Nor was it a relationship of sustenance. No, she and I, we…” He looked up, and Suzaku faltered when he saw the grief in his eyes. “I would have gladly given everything to be with her. I gladly would, if it means I can be with her. Would you not do the same, Suzaku?”
He silently watched, as did the crystals from above, as the King rose from his throne. Swaying, he stood before the desolate throne room. His dead eyes drifting to latch onto him, he gave a sickly smile.
“But I suppose even that’s not enough.”
And it was in that moment, as the crown slipped from his head and clattered to the ground, as the scarlet robe fluttered to the ground and the King collapsed to the cold ground, that Suzaku realized why the King had asked him if he understood.