I'm in another world, and I start out transformed into Lancelot.

“I’ve come to try that pizza that’s supposedly the best in the world,” the green-haired witch replied matter-of-factly. Her demonic golden eyes remained calm, showing no remorse for the chaos she had created. She even defiantly waved the enormous slice of pizza she had just received, still sizzling, steaming, and exuding a rich, savory cheese aroma. The golden-brown edges and generous toppings were almost touching Lelouch’s face, which was taut with shock and anxiety.

"Look, we're lucky, we got the first one!"

Just as Lelouch and C.C. were locked in a stalemate like two opposing energies, Melisandre's figure, like a reflection in water, quietly parted the noisy crowd. The cool aura surrounding her, which made people instinctively hold their breath and retreat, opened a path directly to her center.

After easily obtaining four pizzas oozing with the aroma of hot wheat and rich cheese, she calmly returned to the edge of the minor chaos, carrying a generously sized takeout box.

"Mission accomplished. It's time to return to His Highness's location."

The clear and calm voice, like a bell shattering the frozen air, landed precisely behind the two people who were still struggling.

C.C.'s golden, demonic eyes, which had been brimming with amusement and mockery, froze the moment they touched Melosin's figure. A deep, undisguised curiosity quickly replaced her nonchalant attitude. She tossed the pizza, which she had just been "treating like a treasure," into Lelouch's stiff arm almost as if it were a toy.

Ignoring the other's almost tangible, unspoken accusation, "What are you up to now?!" the green-haired witch took a few steps forward. Without hesitation, she enveloped herself in those amber-gold vertical pupils. Her gaze lingered on Melusin as if appraising an ancient yet novel artifact, finally settling precisely on the veil obscuring her face.

(As the holder of the Code, when her sensory network comes into contact with what is in front of her...)

(A strange, unprecedented sense of obscurity arose, as if shrouded in thick fog... Interesting.)

A strong urge to verify overwhelmed all etiquette and common sense—CC suddenly raised her hand. Her slender fingers, carrying an undeniable and straightforward intention, reached out with lightning speed towards that veil as thin as a cicada's wing, yet which blocked out the truth.

"Your actions may be slightly contrary to the standards of ladylike conduct."

Melusin's voice still carried that elusive, almost aria-like, lighthearted smile.

Yet, the instant her words fell—her footsteps, as if calculated with the utmost precision, retreated by the slightest margin. The fluid movement was unbelievably light, so much so that the hem of her skirt, fluttering in the wind, hadn't even completed its full arc. And the veil used to conceal her face remained firmly and securely draped in place, without a trace of movement.

“Heh, what a…wonderful encounter, you.” CC murmured softly, her golden, enigmatic eyes filled with intense interest and unsolved mysteries. However, this thirst for knowledge didn’t seem to hinder her love for pizza: “It’s a pity my world number one pizza is about to cool down…” Her gaze drifted away from Melusin, with a hint of lingering satisfaction, “I hope next time, you can tell me your name.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she seemed to suddenly remember something, and with remarkable ease, "took" back her slightly warm pizza from Lelouch's hands, who stood frozen like a background prop. The movement was so fluid, as if Lelouch had never even briefly held onto it. Then, the green-haired witch waved her hand dismissively. As if she had just finished an afternoon chat, humming a tuneless little tune, she gracefully blended into the bustling crowd and disappeared.

“An impressive lady,” Melsin’s voice broke the silence as they returned to Euphemia’s side. Her distinctive amber-gold vertical pupils casually swept over Lelouch Lamperouge, who stood slightly tense beside her. Her tone was calm, devoid of inquiry, yet carrying just the right amount of curiosity: “She seems to know you?”

(—Naturally. As the fairy knight protecting the princess, she had already thoroughly investigated this crucial information: this demonic being named CC…)

(Currently, he is in a close alliance with his target, Lelouch Lamperouge, under the same roof...)

But this didn't stop her from, with a touch of chivalry and a hint of humor, posing this pointed yet slightly teasing question to her "younger brother," who always seemed to be manipulating a grand chessboard.

(—Occasionally observing the strategist's changing expressions within the secular network is a necessary and enjoyable diversion from the job, isn't it?)

"Who's even familiar with that pizza girl?!" Long-suppressed grumbling erupted like a volcano, Lelouch almost forgetting his carefully crafted "Lamperouge" persona. He complained in a low but clear voice: "—Empty boxes strewn everywhere!—Moldy teaware under rare books!—The living room even smells of leftover cheese from the previous day!..."

A barrage of accusations revealing his cohabitant's terrible habits flowed from his lips, each one a precise depiction of their appalling daily life. However, these "testimonies" exposing the state of their relationship were only the beginning. His expression, initially one of disgust and annoyance, underwent a dramatic transformation the instant he saw the scene before him—as if magically cleansed.

Euphemia was smiling and waving at him, while Nunnally, in her wheelchair, waited quietly, her face full of pure anticipation. "Brother's back~"

Those gloomy eyes and brows instantly blossomed into a warm, sunny smile, and her voice became as sweet and gentle as honey. The speed and magnitude of her change of expression were so astonishing that even Melissa, who had witnessed countless strange sights, couldn't help but slightly narrow her amber-gold vertical pupils in pure surprise.

But she remained silent, simply handing the four takeout boxes to Yuffie with the usual solemnity. Her knee-length skirt traced a simple arc as she bowed slightly, her silver hair shimmering in the setting sun: "Your Highness, I have not failed you."

"Hmm, as expected of my knight!" Euphemia smiled brightly, showering Merusin with praise. Then, her usual demure demeanor vanished—this third princess of Britannia, renowned for her elegance and nobility, completely disregarded the speck of dust on her exquisite dress and casually sat down on the slightly cold stone steps.

As she bent her knees, her pure white knee-length skirt cascaded down the steps like flower petals. Her slender fingers picked up a slice of the still-warm pizza, intending to enjoy this "vulgar food" that court nobles would scorn in this bustling open-air setting.

The scene was incredibly impactful, striking Lelouch Lamperouge's vision with precision and force. He froze for a moment, as if his brain were cracking – the sound of his long-held belief in the "elegant princess Euphemia" shattering completely.

(—Wait, wait a minute! Euphemia?! She actually…!)

However, the next second, when his gaze locked onto Euphemia's violet eyes, brimming with pure joy and contentment, all his shock and astonishment instantly melted away like a light snowfall in spring, transforming into a soft, almost indulgent tenderness.

(—Yeah, so what?)

Whether it's her noble status or the strict etiquette, what's wrong with letting her taste and enjoy herself as she pleases? As long as Yuffie is happy, this heartfelt desire to protect her far surpasses all conventional reasoning.

The last trace of tension in Lelouch's eyes, caused by the change in their status, completely dissipated, leaving only a warm peace. Melsin, standing behind Euphemia, keenly observed the subtle shift in Lelouch's emotions—from shock to eventual acceptance and indulgence—with her amber-gold vertical pupils. The fairy knight understood, and thus relinquished her last vestige of politeness. She subtly adjusted her posture, shielding Princess Euphemia, who was focused on the delicious pizza, from the surrounding noise, completely reverting to her pure guardian demeanor.

Chapter 17 Unspoken Protection

The midday sun cast clear shadows on the square, and the air was filled with the warmth of food and people.

Euphemia put down the last slice of pizza with satisfaction, a little tomato sauce still on her lips.

At the opportune moment, Meilushin handed over a snow-white handkerchief, her movements precise and gentle, carefully wiping away the oil from her cheeks.

That focused posture was like tenderly protecting the first drops of morning dew.

Perhaps it was the feeling of being full and relaxed, or perhaps it was the freedom of being unrestrained at this moment, but Euphemia's fair cheeks were tinged with a faint blush.

She looked up at her brother beside her, with whom she shared a secret, her violet eyes brimming with a bright smile and a hint of barely perceptible shyness:

“Um… Brother Lelouch,” she said softly, her voice filled with a little excitement.

"Could you please... quietly call Suzaku aside? I have something very important I want to tell him immediately~"

She winked playfully and emphasized, "Of course! If Brother Lelouch wants to hear it too... please stay!"

The joy in his voice, almost overflowing, was like musical notes dancing in the sunlight, incredibly infectious.

This pure joy easily melted away the lingering gloom and weariness on Lelouch's face caused by the previous events.

A gentle smile naturally crept onto the corners of his mouth.

(—Look at Yuffie's expression, filled with immense surprise… what could make her so excited right now must be some good news that will bring her unparalleled joy, right?)

When Suzaku Kururugi hurriedly arrived at this secluded corner surrounded by trees, the scene that came into view was tinged with a tender sense of connection.

Euphemia smiled brightly, while Lelouch Lamperouge appeared relaxed, though his gaze occasionally fell with concern upon those around him.

At this moment, the younger sister, Nanali, who was sitting quietly in her wheelchair, had obvious signs of fatigue on her small face.

Prolonged outdoor activities were indeed too much of a burden on her weak body, and her little head was unconsciously nodding.

Lelouch noticed his sister's discomfort almost immediately. He bent down, his tone a pure, gentle tenderness that he only spoke to Nunnally, a tenderness that melted away all coldness:

"Nanali, are you a little tired?"

Nanali tried hard to perk up, but her drowsiness made her let out a soft "hmm":

"I'm a little...sorry, Sister Yuffie and everyone..."

"Silly child, there's no need to apologize." Euphemia immediately bent down and leaned closer, her voice full of tenderness.

Her warm, jade-like hand gently grasped Nanali's slightly cool hand. "Going back and getting some rest is the most important thing."

She looked up at her loyal maid, "Saki, please escort Nunnally back to the lounge."

"Yes, Princess Euphemia, Master Lelouch."

The maid, Saki, bowed respectfully and gestured to another attendant behind her to take over pushing the wheelchair.

Lelouch, still worried, leaned down again and whispered a few words of advice in his sister's ear.

After receiving a tired but reassuring smile from Nanali, he straightened up and let Sakiyoko push his wheelchair away.

The gentle creak of the wheelchair crunching over fallen leaves on the stone path carried away the care and love of the crowd as it gradually disappeared into the distance.

Meanwhile, the silver-haired knight Melsin, who stood guard beside Euphemia and exuded a cool aura, seemed to have a more patient and warm demeanor than usual.

This harmonious feeling, filled with joy and familial affection, warmed the heart of Suzaku, who had been fighting for days.

His chivalrous instincts, ingrained in his very bones, made him instantly kneel on one knee and bow respectfully: "Your Highness Euphemia."

As I looked up and stood up, that genuine, warm, sunny smile reappeared:

"Your Highness summoned me; is there some news worth celebrating?"

He spoke in a light tone, his gaze habitually turning to his close friend Lelouch beside him.

Lelouch responded with a meaningful, slight smile, without saying a word.

He merely gave Yuffie a subtle, knowing look, as if to say "the answer has been revealed."

This silent guidance led Zhuque's expectant gaze to gently focus once again on the exceptionally radiant heroine.

But his gaze was almost immediately drawn to the imposing figure standing behind Euphemia!

Zhuque's breath hitched slightly, and an indescribable storm surged within her emerald pupils.

(It's her! That cold, silvery moonlight! That inhuman figure who descended like a god on the battlefield of despair, shattering the darkness and etching a chilling lesson into our hearts!)

The silver hair, still flowing with a cold, moon-like luster under the midday sun, and the long, slender, and extremely imposing silhouette.

It miraculously overlapped with the lake-blue radiance that flashed on the battlefield filled with smoke and death, which was deeply etched in his memory.

The phantom of the fairy knight Lancelot almost pierced through time and space, overlapping with the guardian of Euphemia before him.

All these subtle yet intense emotional fluctuations, and those eyes fixed intently on Melissa's silver hair, did not escape Lelouch Lamperouge's observation.

His face still held that gentle smile that appeared because his sister had left safely, like the most perfect mask.

(Suzaku... this usually straightforward idiot who wears his emotions on his sleeve, actually showed such a shocked and inquisitive expression because of her?)

(...What else is this Melosin hiding?)

A chilling sense of vigilance, like a venomous snake, quietly coiled around Lelouch's heart.

His guard was silently raised to the highest level against this "knight" whose identity was mysterious, whose power was enigmatic, and who now seemed to have some unresolved connection to Suzaku's past experiences.

Just as Suzaku's Adam's apple bobbed, seemingly about to blurt out, "Is it you?!"—

Those long, beautiful fingers were raised with exquisite elegance and silently rested beneath her veil, right at the position of her lips.

It was a silent yet unquestionable gesture of silencing.

Those amber-gold vertical pupils, hidden in the shadows, held a knowing and all-knowing gaze.

She steadily passed through the crowd and landed precisely on Zhuque's emerald green eyes, which were filled with shock and doubt.

At the same time, Euphemia almost instinctively caught that extremely dangerous signal—Suzaku's shocked reaction and the question that was about to be asked!

The pink-haired princess's heart skipped a beat, and a chilling fear gripped her instantly (She must not be exposed here! She must not give the coveterors an opportunity!).

The outward appearance of etiquette honed by the royal family over decades played its ultimate role at this moment.

Her bright smile was flawless, and instead became even more radiant.

A crisp sound rang out at just the right moment, carrying a perfect touch of cheerfulness and a hint of natural "curiosity," subtly penetrating the stagnant air:

"Oh my~ Suzaku, why did you suddenly freeze up? Did you get lost in thought and think of something delicious?"

Those violet eyes, gazing at Suzaku, conveyed a clear and unmistakable message of reassurance, while simultaneously burning with a silent plea deep within:

(Please! Don't ask any more questions!)

She even subtly took a small half-step towards Zhuque, the curve of her skirt rising just enough to slightly increase his visual obstruction.

His movements were so fluid and natural, as if they were simply meant to bring him closer to speak. "We were just saying how good this pizza was!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Melusin's finger, held aloft beneath the veil of mystery. Euphemia's purple eyes held an almost tangible plea and a heavy warning.

The two forces, like a powerful electric current, instantly pierced through Suzaku's slightly confused nerves, which were still reeling from the immense shock.

(Keep this a secret! It must be kept a secret!)

The existence of the fairy knight Lancelot—this extraordinary power, capable of overturning the military landscape—once the Empire becomes aware of it…

Suzaku's mind flashed back to the cold, hard labels on the documents he had glimpsed that read "Special Treatment Object," and his superior's indifferent words, "Property of the Empire."

Cold sweat almost soaked through the fabric of his shirt. He absolutely couldn't let Prince Euphemia get caught up in this mess!

We must not allow that pure power to become a slice on the lab table!

Immediately afterward, another heavy pressure weighed on his heart... Lelouch Lamperouge, his best friend who maintained a gentle smile on his face, seemingly unaware of this silent storm!

(No! How can Lelouch know about this?!)

It's not distrust... it's just too dangerous! Prince Xiuzhenair's sly smile that seemed to know everything, the Imperial Intelligence Service's pervasiveness...

If, due to his own carelessness, Lelouch gets involved in a secret that the empire absolutely cannot tolerate...

The fear that could endanger the life of one of his most cherished friends even outweighed the shock at the secret itself!

It was almost entirely due to physical instinct and the ability to briefly freeze one's expression, honed through battlefield experience.

The frozen shock on Suzaku Kururugi's face melted away like shattered ice, quickly replaced by a very familiar "sunny idiot" confusion and bewilderment.

He raised his hand and scratched the back of his head with a slightly exaggerated motion, making his soft brown hair even more disheveled.

His gaze followed Yuffie's seemingly unintentional but incredibly precise question, "Were you daydreaming? Did you think of something delicious?" and moved downwards.

It was as if he had only just noticed that he was still holding the half-eaten pizza that Yuffie had given him, which he hadn't had a chance to eat yet.