Driving through Ashford Academy, Prince Clovis sat confidently as the vehicle made its way across the pristine campus grounds.
Lord Ashford himself rode with him, serving as both escort and public endorsement.
His safety was practically overkill at this point—C.C., disguised behind the iconic Zero mask, was with him. His own sister, Lila la Britannia, followed close by, her gaze sharp.
Then there was Suzaku Kururugi, newly recruited and still green, but loyal dog.
Followed closely behind. Jeremiah Gottwald, the infamous "Orange" in a timeline that never happened here, and Viletta Nu, a beautiful woman with dark skin, silver-white hair, and an ass that made even the security's guards sneak glance.
Clovis couldn't help but smirk.
His entourage was stacked—dangerous, beautiful, and brutally competent.
The original owner of this body had wasted it.
But now he had taken the reins. And he wouldn't waste shit. He was going to milk every opportunity for everything it was worth.
When the car rolled to a stop, he stepped out like a king with his court behind him, his presence turning heads immediately.
The atmosphere shifted—he was here to dominate.
"Lead the way, Lord Ashford," Clovis ordered coolly, eyes scanning the academy like a predator assessing his hunting grounds. "Lelouch and Nunnally must be waiting for our arrival."
Lord Ashford visibly tensed.
His smile twitched with discomfort as he bowed slightly.
"Prince Clovis... forgive me for saying this, but Lelouch is... apparently not home at the moment. He's at the casino. We didn't notify him or his sister, per your earlier instruction, so…"
"No problem." Clovis cut him off, gave him a quick pat on the shoulder—reassuring, but there was a predatory calm behind the gesture. "You, Suzaku, Jeremiah, and Viletta, bring the boy to me. I'll wait here."
"Yes, Prince Clovis."
Without delay, Lord Ashford and the others returned to the car.
The engine roared to life as they sped off, heading straight to drag Lelouch from his little gambling den back into Clovis' world.
Clovis turned on his heel, not sparing another glance as the car disappeared down the drive.
He had other business.
C.C. walked beside him in silence, her body language unreadable under the Zero mask, while Lila followed at his other side like a loyal shadow.
As they walked toward the dormitory—Nunally's so-called sanctuary—Clovis casually opened his phone.
Lord Ashford had already sent the GPS coordinates, tracking her exact location. How helpful.
He couldn't wait to see her again.
Nunally vi Britannia. Innocent. Fragile. Blind and bound to her wheelchair like some porcelain doll.
The kind of girl the world instinctively wanted to protect.
But Clovis?
Clovis wanted to possess her.
Not just politically. Not just as a pawn.
Completely.
As they approached the dorm entrance, Lila stepped forward, entering first.
A moment later, she returned, nodding once.
"She's inside, brother. Alone." Lila said.
Clovis gave her a small smile and gently patted her head. "Good job, my sweet sister."
With that, he stepped inside, leaving Lila and C.C. standing on either side of the door.
They remained outside, forming a silent, vigilant barrier so that Clovis could enjoy a private, uninterrupted conversation with the girl waiting within—his half-sister, Nunally vi Britannia.
There she was.
The room's interior was quiet, clean, and comfortably warm.
Modest but tastefully arranged in a blend of soft whites and royal blues.
A vase of fresh flowers rested on the windowsill, sunlight filtering in through the sheer curtains, casting soft patterns across the floor.
And at the center of it all—Nunally.
She sat still in her wheelchair, serene and unmoving, her head gently tilted toward the sound of the door.
Her eyes were closed, but there was something in her expression—a quiet tension, a flicker of worry—that hinted she knew someone had entered.
Perhaps she hadn't recognized his presence just yet.
"Nunally. It's me, Clovis." he spoke softly, taking a few slow steps forward.
His eyes lingered on her, drinking in every inch of her delicate form with an intensity that bordered on obsessive.
She was stunning, almost ethereal. So elegant and pure—her fragile appearance didn't discourage him in the slightest.
If anything, it stirred something in him. Something warm. Something twisted. He liked that fragility. He liked it a lot.
Her hands were delicately folded in her lap, her legs covered by a soft blanket.
Her skin was porcelain-pale and untouched—pristine, like a doll carved from the finest ivory.
He moved closer, each step laced with a quiet intensity, each footfall echoing faintly in the stillness of the room.
Her head twitched slightly at the voice. The name. That familiar tone.
"Brother Clovis? Is… is that really you?" she asked, her voice fragile, tentative.
Clovis continued approaching, each step echoing with a tightly coiled hunger he didn't bother to conceal.
"Yes, Nunally. It's me." He stopped right in front of her, eyes trembling with emotion. "I've been looking for you... for both you and Lelouch. I've searched everywhere, and now—finally—I've found you."
Clovis, whose expression had been twitching with barely-contained obsession and possessive hunger, completely broke down the moment her voice reached his ears.
Tears began to spill from his eyes deliberately, falling in heavy drops onto her small hand as he reached forward and held it between his own, his grip trembling with the overwhelming enthusiasm of a brother who had at last been reunited with a long-lost sister.
Nunally froze for a moment, caught off guard by the rush of emotions and the sudden closeness.
She wasn't sure how to respond, especially as she felt the warm tears of her brother dripping onto her skin.
The sensation was strange. Heavy. Almost too intimate.
But she had always known how to adapt quickly.
She squeezed his hand back, her voice quiet. "Brother Clovis… I'm sorry."
She bowed her head slightly, her tone full of guilt. "We didn't know you were trying to find us. Lelouch insisted we hide... he said it was the safest way."
She didn't know it, but her words only fed the fire burning inside Clovis.
The innocence. The apology. The trust.
She had no idea what kind of monster was holding her hand.
"No need to apologize, my dear sister. I understand," Clovis said, his voice soft, velvety, filled with brotherly warmth—or at least that's how it would sound to anyone listening. He gently patted her hand, a reassuring gesture... but his touch lingered.
Longer than it should have.
His fingers lightly brushed against the soft skin of her hand, pale and delicate like porcelain. He savored the sensation, letting it seep into his palm before reluctantly letting go, though the feeling of her skin stayed etched in his nerves.
Nunally either didn't notice—or chose not to make a big deal out of it. After all, her world had always been wrapped in innocence and blindness, guarded by Lelouch's obsessive, almost fanatical protection. Because of that, her experience with men... with touch... with the unspoken language of desire—was virtually zero.
And Clovis? He knew that.
He leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping into something more hushed, more intimate, as his gaze never left her soft, slightly parted lips.
"Nunally... may I feel you a little more?" he asked, his words gentle but heavy, weighted with something she couldn't name. "I just... I need to know if this is real. If you're truly here, or if I'm trapped in a dream."
Nunally's cheeks warmed instantly, her heartbeat quickening in her chest. She didn't understand why her body reacted like this. She didn't know what this feeling was—or why her brother's words made her throat tighten.
She didn't know about Ero Geass.
Clovis's unique version of Geass didn't require eye contact. Not like Lelouch's. It didn't force obedience—it stirred desire. It ignited lust inside his targets as long as his own yearning remained intense enough. It was a slow, creeping effect, weaving into the senses without warning or resistance. Even Nunally, blind and naïve, wasn't immune.
"Brother Clovis... I don't understand..." she whispered, confused, flustered, her fingers curling slightly.
"I know you don't, Nunally," Clovis murmured, moving closer.
He cupped her cheek tenderly, his thumb stroking the curve of her face with slow, deliberate intimacy. His other hand slid up and tangled into her hair, brushing the soft strands between his fingers, stroking with a possessive rhythm that sent a strange shiver through her.
She lowered her head, blushing harder, her breathing unsteady. She didn't know why it felt so warm... or why her body leaned slightly into his touch.
"This isn't a dream... I've finally found you, Nunally," Clovis whispered, then pulled her into an embrace. His arms wrapped around her tightly, pressing her against him as though he were trying to merge her into his flesh.
"Brother Clovis..." she murmured into his chest, her voice shaking.
"I missed you. I missed all of our siblings... Euphemia, Cornelia, Schneizel..." Her voice cracked as she began to cry, the tears soaking into his shirt.
He stroked her back slowly, comforting her, murmuring soothing words against her ear. But there was something dark growing in his touch. Each motion of his hand across her spine grew more deliberate... more claiming.
"You'll see them again soon, Nunally," he promised. "That's my vow to you... as your brother."
"Thank you, Brother Clovis..." she whispered softly, her voice trembling, comforted by the warmth of his arms even as something deep inside her stirred with unease and unfamiliar heat.
"You're welcome, my sweet sister..." he said, his hand continuing to move—slow strokes that no longer felt purely comforting. Each pass of his palm was darker, more possessive, as if he weren't just hugging her anymore...
As if he was holding onto something he didn't want to let go.
Not now. Not ever.
...
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