"I'm truly glad that you never fail to exceed our expectations, Earl Lloyd. Your invention is nothing short of exhilarating!" Prince Clovis declared with a flourish, clapping his hands enthusiastically before patting Lloyd on the shoulder in an attempt at a friendly gesture, his voice brimming with pride as he praised the scientist.
"It's nothing, really, Prince Clovis. It's all thanks to your generous support," Lloyd replied with a strained smile, his voice carrying the slightest hint of forced politeness.
What support?
Most of the funds for the project had come from his own resources. Of course, there was still a bitter dissatisfaction simmering in his heart toward Prince Clovis for essentially commandeering the Lancelot without offering any form of compensation. Yet, despite his resentment, Lloyd said nothing, choosing instead to bite his tongue and respond hypocritically, accepting the empty praise in silence.
"Rest assured, Earl Lloyd, we will continue to provide our unwavering support. You have my word—more funding will be directed to your laboratory very soon." Prince Clovis added with a magnanimous tone, his smile widening as if he were bestowing a grand favor.
"You're truly wise, Prince Clovis," Lloyd responded, nodding in feigned gratitude as he graciously accepted the promise of more funds. He didn't forget to flatter Clovis further, knowing full well that it was necessary to keep the prince's favor. He feared, after all, that any hesitation or criticism could result in Clovis retracting his promise entirely.
"All hail, Prince Clovis!" Lloyd and the nobles around him echoed, their voices rising in unison, showering the prince with praise.
"All hail, Prince Clovis!"
The nobles continued to chant as Prince Clovis basked in their admiration, a smug smirk plastered across his face.
"Now, everyone," Clovis began, raising his voice to command the room's attention, "have you all witnessed the sheer capabilities of the Lancelot? Even the most mediocre among our ranks was able to vanquish three of Britannia's elite forces using just this one invention. With the Lancelot, we shall never again find ourselves trailing behind any of my brothers or sisters. It is time for the rise of Area Eleven!"
"All hail, Prince Clovis!"
"All hail, Prince Clovis!"
The nobles roared their agreement, their enthusiasm filling the room.
"Prince Clovis, I will offer my son to enlist in your knightmare team," one noble announced eagerly.
"And I, Prince Clovis, will have my daughter serve alongside him!" another added, clearly anxious to secure favor with the prince.
With each passing moment, more and more nobles began offering their sons and daughters to Clovis, each vying to be included in the elite knightmare force that he intended to form. They spoke of their willingness to crush terrorism, stamp out rebellion, and defend Area Eleven at all costs. Some even whispered of future conquests—invading other nations with the full might of Clovis' burgeoning power.
Prince Clovis stood tall, pride swelling within him as he watched the nobles fawn over him, one by one, their ambitions aligning with his. The realization of his achievement was palpable as he basked in the flattery, his smirk growing ever wider. Everyone wanted to be on his good side, and Clovis could not have been more pleased.
"How about you, Lord Ashford? Why are you silent?" Prince Clovis inquired with an expectant tone, his piercing gaze never leaving the man before him. "I have heard tales of your past abilities as a Knightmare pilot, especially when you aided Queen Marianne. Surely, those talents have not diminished with time."
It was clear that Clovis had no intention of letting Lord Ashford, the man who had kept Lelouch and concealed grand ambitions of reinstalling him on the throne, off so easily.
Clovis was well aware that Lord Ashford's dreams were to engineer a resurgence of his influence through Lelouch.
But Clovis harbored no illusions; Ashford had committed treachery and had hidden motives—motives that directly opposed his own interests.
For that reason, Clovis knew that Lord Ashford deserved no mercy.
Lord Ashford coughed awkwardly before speaking in a low, regretful tone. "Unfortunately, I am no longer the man I once was, Prince Clovis. Age has caught up with me. I doubt I could be of much help to you now."
Clovis shook his head, a sly smile crossing his lips. "No, no, no, Lord Ashford, you are far from old. You still have much to offer."
The prince stepped closer, the friendly expression on his face never fading as he leaned in and whispered in Lord Ashford's ear, his voice dripping with venomous subtlety. "Don't think for a second that I don't know you're hiding Lelouch, Lord Ashford."
At those words, Lord Ashford involuntarily trembled, his eyes flickering with sudden panic.
How could Prince Clovis have discovered the truth?
The implications were terrifying. If Clovis chose to make Lelouch's whereabouts known to the masses, the consequences would be disastrous.
Ashford would not only be branded a traitor for sheltering a prince who was supposed to have been dead by the Emperor's decree, but his dream of reviving the Ashford family's former glory—glory that once thrived under Queen Marianne—would be crushed.
It took every ounce of his willpower to suppress the terror rising within him.
Forcing himself to regain composure, Lord Ashford straightened up and bowed deeply. "I humbly apologize, Prince Clovis. From this day forward, the Ashford family will pledge its unwavering loyalty to you."
His words dripped with submission as he caved to the pressure of the prince's threat.
Clovis beamed, delighted at the response. "Excellent! If only we had more loyal men like Lord Ashford, how glorious Area Eleven would be under our rule."
With exaggerated politeness, he extended a hand to help Lord Ashford stand upright. "Now, Lord Ashford, I've also heard rumors about your daughter. They say she is both intelligent and a capable leader. Is this true?"
Lord Ashford hesitated, his voice faltering.
"Yes, Prince Clovis," he stammered, his unease palpable.
He had no idea what Clovis intended, but an ominous feeling gnawed at him.
Prince Clovis's next words sent a chill through him.
"In that case, I will be requiring your daughter's assistance. Send her to my residence. I'm sure her capabilities will prove useful to me in the near future." Clovis smirked, giving Lord Ashford a condescending pat on the shoulder before turning to engage in conversation with the other nobles present.
Lord Ashford remained rooted to the spot, his head bowed, as if frozen in place like a statue.
He couldn't speak, nor could he lift his gaze, as the full weight of his predicament bore down on him.