Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass. All credits goes to Sunrise.

Chapter One

In The Beginning

"Check."

Valentine pursed her lips and scowled at the raven-haired boy sitting across from her. He merely returned her heated gaze with a haughty grin — young as he was, Lelouch was always arrogant. But it was one thing she had admired from him, after all, he does have a right to be proud of himself.

Her fingers hovered above the chessboard, over the white king piece, who glinted back at her as if winking. It was mockery, as if it already knew who the winner was. Nevertheless, Valentine knew she was doomed. After a few moments of thought, she flicked the chess piece backwards, only for it to be sidestepped by a mere pawn.

"I won." Lelouch announced triumphantly.

Valentine, being her strange usual eight year-old self, merely rolled her eyes. "I hate this. You always win."

"And you always lose."

"Do not!" She crossed her arms. "I won over Euphy and big sis Cornelia and Clovis —"

"But not to me."

"Hmph. But you can't beat big brother Schneizel. He's always better than you."

Lelouch leaned in and flicked her forehead, in which she whimpered. "It's because he's older. Mother said that the older you get, the smarter you become."

"You're just saying that because you lost to him!" Valentine retorted, clutching the reddening spot her brother just hit. "Wait 'till I tell Mother what you've done!"

"I'm not scared. Now, hand it over." Lelouch smirked as he stretched out his palm, wiggling his fingers. "Come on Val — you promised."

Valentine looked over her brother doubtfully, hesitating. She had promised, yes, but to Lelouch? The bargain was one of her treasured things, carefully hidden away into the folds of her dress. Now, the girl began to wonder why she even agreed to duel her terrifyingly clever (but somewhat of a clumsy idiot, sometimes) in a game of wits — in which, the latter is obviously superior on.

There were two options, of course. One: she could simply tell him no — which was quite easy. But knowing Lelouch, he'll probably think of a way to take revenge on her, which isn't that cruel, but something worth laughing at.

And Valentine hates to be laughed at.

The second one was also simple. She could just fulfil her end of the bet and hand her precious item over. There were many fears listed on Valentine's mind, but she suddenly remembered how Mother always said that Val always keeps her promises.

"You'll take care of it, won't you?" She said slowly, her eyes tinged with uncertainty.

Lelouch nodded, impatient. "Yes, yes, I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She believed him. Of course she will — Lelouch was Valentine's big brother, only a year older than her, but it doesn't matter. He was born first, and he was almost first in everything — but not at games that considered running or carrying heavy things. With gentle fingers, Valentine took a shiny stone out of her dress pocket and handed it into his outstretched hand.

"What are you going to do with that?" She asked.

Lelouch was already examining the rock. It was a bit peculiar — metallic silver with blunt, jagged edges and a spray of tiny crystals on its thin, transparent walls. "Why are you even keeping this, anyway?"

"Because it's pretty."

He smiled at that. "You always pick up strange things and call them pretty."

"It's not just that." Valentine found herself mumbling. "I — um…I found them on the beach back at my birthday and…and it was a fun day. Nunnally helped me look for it. Mother even said it might be my lucky charm."

Lelouch peered at Valentine, who was looking down on her shoes and playing with her fingers. He knew what that meant — by any other means, his sister was shy. Especially when it comes to admitting things she couldn't normally say. Oftentimes when she talked and moved, the young boy could almost picture her as a bashful doe he would often read in books. She was never a noisy girl in front of others, Valentine was quiet and invisible. But when they're alone, she turns almost…normal.

"Is that so?" Lelouch gave his sister a curious glance and resumed at turning the stone over and over.

"Yes." Realizing that her voice was bit too soft, her eyes suddenly hardened as she said the word again, only louder this time. "Yes!"

Valentine was surprised when Lelouch laughed — Lelouch seldom laughs. Especially at her jokes. Yes, he might snigger when she tripped over the hem of her dress or snort when she says the wrong things, but seeing him truly laugh was a rare sight. Her brother is serious, and almost too grown-up.

She couldn't help but smile. "But please be careful, big brother. Don't lose it."

"I won't. I promised, didn't I?" He said warmly, with a sly smile on his face.

But weeks later, Lelouch lost that piece of rock, anyway.

Valentine vi Brittania stood by the giant courtyard of the Imperial Villa, her fingers curled around the white queen she didn't know she was already clutching.

She smiled wistfully at the memory. Liar, she thought, Lelouch was always a liar.

But a good one, at that.

She held the object in front of her and raised it against the sunlight. It glimmered like calm water — it was made of cheap glass, yet, it was beautiful. Light filtered out of the pools into thousand, tiny facets. She stared at the figure, mystified. It made her wonder, of how such a small, solid, piece could sparkle like a million-lit candles.

"Princess." A cool, calm voice snapped Valentine back to reality.

She tensed, and lowered her arms back to her sides. "Is it time, already?"

"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry."

Valentine sighed and stood up straight. It was difficult to move in such a dress — with its many under-skirts and a tight, jewelled bodice. But growing up with such strict etiquette teachers, the young princess managed to do so with utmost grace. After all, if she ever did one small mistake such as tripping or falling off balance, Valentine would always find herself being criticized and scolded by many.

You are my daughter and it is my blood that flows into your veins, her father had once said — Valentine could never forget how his eyes blazed with fury as she stood in front of him, a small, cowering mess of dirt and tears, it is superior amongst all. A foolish disgrace like you could ruin it after one small mistake. And you do nothing but mistakes. So dare shame me and I will see to it that you will never open your eyes again. Understand?

She was broken — cold, alone and weak as she wept. But her fear at her father was even greater than the mad, clawing loneliness inside of her. The younger Valentine quelled her anguished sobs and stood up, silent tears pouring down her face as she bitterly said "Yes, Father."

Valentine closed her eyes. It was a memory again — one not worth remembering. It wasn't happy or pretty. But then again, when was the last time she laughed — a real kind of laughter? Long ago, many years ago — she could hardly remember it. She heaved a sigh one more time and turned around to face her personal Knight.

Alyn Crosswell's blood-red eyes stared back at her, though the way he cocked his head must mean she had worried him.

"Did Father summoned me?" She only asked, a small smile on her face as she settled the chess piece on the huge fountain's edge.

"Not exactly, Your Highness."

Valentine shook her head, though her smile remained plastered on her face. "You worry too much, Alyn. What's the matter?"

"The princess Euphemia personally asked for you." He replied, though his voice seemed to soften. "She's currently waiting by the —"

"Valentine!" Alyn's words were suddenly cut off by a cheerful yell of her name. Valentine's head snapped up and she immediately spotted her half-sister's pink locks.

Euphemia was already making her way towards her, beaming and waving a little. Valentine raised her hand too, albeit a little hesitant, and waved back.

"Euphemia — you're here." She managed to say although her words display far too much obviousness.

"I just wanted to see my sister for the last time." Euphemia replied, smiling.

Valentine blinked. "The last time? What do you mean?"

Instead of replying, Euphemia carefully took Valentine's both hands and said "Come, walk with me."

Valentine glanced uncertainly at Alyn's direction. Her gaze caught his and she nodded.

"We won't be gone long, Alyn." She assured him and raised an eyebrow at Euphemia. "Right?"

"Or too far." Her sister added.

Alyn shook his head, sighing in disbelief. "Someday, someone's going to kill me for being too easy on you."

"Thank you." Valentine gave him a grateful smile. "Let's go, Euphemia."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Euphy?" Euphemia complained as Valentine tugged her away.

"I'm sorry — Euphy."

The pink-haired princess gave a tinkling laugh as she kept up with her half-sister's pace. Valentine always thought Euphemia's laugh is always pretty, like calming wind chimes. "That's better."

As they walked away from the courtyard and towards the Imperial Villa's great gardens, Valentine was surprised when her sister pulled her in close and whispered "I hope someday, I'll get a knight like yours."

"A knight like…Alyn?" Valentine asked, her voice sounding a bit confused.

Euphemia's smile grew wider as she nodded. "M-hmm. Alyn always takes good care of you, and he's always so nice."

"Isn't Guilford the same to Cornelia? Knights are supposed to be nice, Euphem— Euphy."

"They're different." She insisted. "Alyn to you seems more…close, I guess. And he isn't too hard on you, either. Guildford's too uptight and even Carine's is boring."

Valentine couldn't think of something to say after that, though her heart was beating a beat faster than normal. She took it more like a warning rather than a compliment. Alyn was her friend — probably the only person she could ever count on. And she doesn't want to lose him.

He's too close, the words were blaring like an angry red light, he shouldn't be too close.

To distract her already piling-up thoughts, Valentine cleared her throat and went back to the main subject. "You mentioned that this is the last time you'll see me. Are you leaving?"

Euphemia paused to look at her for a second long and then slowly nodded. "M-hmm."

Valentine felt her heart drop like a rock on the bottom of her stomach. Euphemia? Leaving the Pendragon?

"To where?"

She patiently waited for an answer as her pink-haired sister bent down to pick a blossoming red carnation.

"To Japan." Euphemia said at last, her pretty face now solemn and serious. "Father has appointed Cornelia there as Governor. And I will be assisting her."

Her heart lurched at the mention of the name. All of a sudden, thousand pictures of memories flooded her mind — most of them concerned a certain raven-haired brother and a blind, crippled sister. For some reason, her chest suddenly felt heavy. But she clenched her fists, willing her thoughts away. Now was not the time to mull over the past - no matter how painful they were.

"Japan?" It was too far away. "But why Japan? Why not —"

"I couldn't refuse." For one moment, Valentine swore she heard a quiver of fear in Euphemia's voice. But it was long gone the second she spoke again. "Things are getting out of hand there, lately. Especially now that Clovis is gone."

Valentine merely looked at Euphemia's amethyst eyes — Father's eyes, she thought — and could obviously see the determination marring with the fear her sister is feeling as of the moment. She was going to be sent to Area 11. For one second, Valentine wished she could be the pink-haired princess standing in front of her right now. Although the place sounded absolutely ominous and desolate, with its many massacres and bloodshed, Valentine always wanted to go. Why Euphemia? She was still studying here. She's meant for the life of a princess. Valentine, on the other hand, wanted nothing but to escape from this luxurious prison. Why not send her instead?

She suddenly felt the urge to slap herself. Of course, there is no way the Emperor would let her leave this forsaken place. No matter how much begging, coercing or crying, Charles zi Britannia isn't the man who can be moved by pity nor sympathy.

He doesn't have a heart, after all. He wasn't born with one.

"I wish I could go…" Valentine found herself saying softly. She longed to go — in fact, it was the only thing she had desired. To leave Pendragon and go somewhere in a deserted island where she could be at peace. But that thought has only been a dream. It will always remain a dream.

She was so deep in thought that she flinched when she felt Euphemia's hand on hers. Valentine looked up and met her lilac eyes as steadily as she could.

"I asked Father, you know." Euphemia said, smiling at Valentine sadly. "I know how much you wanted to come. I wish you could come."

Valentine withdrew her hands. "Father would never allow it."

Euphy sighed. "I'm sorry, Val. I miss Lelouch and Nunnally too. Maybe I could —"

"Lelouch is dead." Both of Valentine's voice and eyes grew cold as soon as she heard those words. "Nunnally is dead. My siblings are already dead. There's no point talking about them anymore."

"They're not —"

"They are." Valentine's voice only signalled that the subject was now closed. Realizing that she may have sounded too hard on her sister, she sighed. "I'm-I'm sorry, I — let's just…let's don't talk about it, can we?"

Euphemia's face looked hurt, Valentine knew, but she was trying hard not to show it. Saint Euphemia — she always is the kindest, the gentlest, with the most blessed heart among all the Britannian siblings but Valentine was still figuring out if she indeed liked this pink-haired princess or was all her friendly attempts just for show? They knew each other ever since they were children but as years began to pass and that terrible "gift" was bestowed upon her, Valentine realized her feelings for her half-sister were complicated. But she could always single out the guilt that came along with it.

Slowly, Euphy nodded and smiled. Without saying anything, Valentine found the red carnation on her own hands. She looked at Euphemia, who was smiling gently.

"You remind me so much of flowers, Valentine." She finally said as her own fingers curled around Val's hand. "Even when I'm away, I'll write you back. Or we'll video call?"

Valentine smiled at that. "You know I hate technology."

"Buy you always loved Knightmares, like a boy you are." Euphemia supplied, giggling. And without warning, she pulled Valentine in for a hug. "I love you Val — we will always be sisters."

Sisters.

Valentine could only manage a weak smile back, but nodded, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions with what Euphemia had just said. But the warm, fuzzy sensation that she was feeling as of the moment is something like she had never felt before. Euphemia might be a martyr, but she was still her sister. And no one's ever been this nice to Valentine — ever since her own siblings' exile. Maybe she did like Euphemia — as stoic as Valentine would admit — a little bit…or probably more?

"Thank you, Euphemia." She whispered, every ounce of those words were filled with the truest form of gratitude. And all of a sudden, Valentine felt her eyes stinging, so she forced her eyelids shut, contented with her sister's embrace. It felt like family.

Was she going to cry?

When was the last time she cried?

But you hated her too, a small voice whispered at the back of her mind. Surprised at her own thoughts, Valentine's eyes snapped open, instantly willing herself not to pull away just so suddenly. But she wanted to. She can't hug Euphemia while her head was reeling with those consuming thoughts, the mere idea of it made Valentine's skin roil with guilt.

"Princess Valentine." Valentine opened her eyes and saw Alyn standing there, his face the look of urgency and irritation at himself for ruining the moment.

Euphemia pulled away and turned to Valentine's knight. "What's the matter, Alyn?"

"I just got the word." He said and rushed forward to the dark-haired princess, his red eyes blazing. "His Highness awaits you at the Britannia Palace. A messenger came. He wants to see you immediately."

Valentine suddenly felt like choking. A familiar sense of fear shot through her and it was probably obvious in her eyes because Alyn's face became sympathetic. She wanted to reach out to him — him, her only friend — and yet couldn't bring herself to do it. Euphemia's words were ringing back inside her ears.

Amidst the speeding beat of her heart, Valentine only nodded. What was the problem, anyway? Each and every of her visits to Charles could only mean one thing.

"I'm sorry, Euphy — I have to go." Valentine said, trying not to get swayed by the pang of regret she's feeling.

However, Euphemia smiled again and nodded. "Be careful, Val. Goodbye. We'll see each other again, don't worry."

I hope I'll get a knight like yours, Valentine could only think of that as she turned around and walked away, with Alyn by her side. Deep in her heart, she prayed — to God or to any gods out there — that someday, Euphemia will find someone who could protect her with his life. That was the only thing Valentine could ever do to repay Euphy's kindness to her over the years — to hope. It was a rare thing, because Valentine had given up hoping, had given up any shred of longing to meet her true siblings. She had accepted the fact that her big brother and little sister are already dead.

But at least, they're already in peace, she thought as gripped the flower in her hands, maybe death is the only way I could get peace.

Maybe it is. But even death seemed a million miles away.