Surviving as a Prince of Britannia

*This chapter alternates between the point of view of Lysander, the protagonist and Fourth Prince/Grand Marshal of the Holy Britannian Empire, and Leila, the Commander-in-Chief of the SPQR—the Megas Domestikos.*

*Unless otherwise stated, later chapters will proceed from the protagonist Lysander’s point of view.*

Protagonist — Lysander’s Point of View

Holy Britannian Empire

Area 3

Duchy of Tenochtitlan (*)

My private residence and Grand Marshal’s Office in Tenochtitlan

My bedchamber

“Your Highness.”

It was the middle of the night.

I had barely managed to close my eyes when the urgent voice from beyond the door made me sit up again.

The moment the lights came on, the bedroom door opened.

Caroline—my lover, and my secret intelligence officer—reported to me with a deathly pale face.

“A coup… has broken out in the SPQR.”

For a moment, I said nothing.

“…Is it her? The woman who contacted us secretly last time?”

“Yes. That is correct. The commander of the defense forces of the First Capital, Rome—Eugene Abigail Justinianus.”

The instant I heard that name, all traces of sleep vanished.

Eugene Abigail Justinianus.

Commander of the capital defense forces of Rome, the First Capital of the SPQR.

Among the old monsters of SPQR politics, there was no one who did not know her name. She was neither emperor nor commander-in-chief, but the simple fact that she held military authority over Rome, the First Capital, made her dangerous enough.

And now, eleven months into the Atlantic War between our country—the Holy Britannian Empire—and the SPQR, the woman who had recently contacted us in secret had actually launched a coup?

“Details.”

“Immediately after midnight, every broadcast channel across Rome was apparently switched to an emergency live transmission. We can receive it here in Tenochtitlan as well.”

“…Summon the commanders. Put the broadcast on.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

A short while later, in the conference room.

The screen came on.

A woman stood within it.

Black hair. Brown eyes. Features characteristic of the Mediterranean, and a face where the arrogance unique to the SPQR’s metropolitan nobility strangely coexisted with the restraint of a soldier.

…Wait a minute.

I knew that the ceremonial attire of the Exarchos Romae consisted of a golden dress, a black double-headed eagle, and an amber belt.

But this was going too far.

“She’s insane.”

My adjutant, Bedivere, expressed my thoughts with perfect accuracy.

And no wonder.

Not only was her makeup far heavier than when she had contacted us in secret, but the golden dress itself had been refashioned to resemble imperial regalia.

Golden earrings hung from both ears.

A golden bracelet adorned her left arm.

She even wore a golden laurel crown upon her head.

That woman was standing before the camera after seizing control of the broadcasting network of the entire imperial capital.

…Was this a coup, or a miniature coronation?

As if she had read my mind, Caroline sneered coldly.

“That madwoman is playing emperor before she has even received the diadem in proper form…”

Just then, Eugene’s voice flowed through the broadcast.

“Honored citizens of Rome.”

Her voice was low and firm.

“I am Eugene Abigail Justinianus of House Justinianus, current commander of the defense forces of the First Capital, Rome—Exarchos Romae.”

“Exarchos Romae.”

I murmured the words quietly.

In SPQR terminology, it meant commander of the defense forces of the First Capital.

In other words, it meant she was a woman capable of moving troops in the very heart of Rome.

Meanwhile, the area outside the screen was growing noisy. Perhaps because the live broadcast had been switched over in haste, even the sounds in and around the broadcasting station were being picked up.

“W-what the hell? She’s not even the emperor… Why is some middle-aged woman wearing a golden laurel crown?”

“Shut up and go back to sleep!”

“Wait… don’t tell me this is…”

At that moment, Eugene briefly closed her eyes, then opened them again.

“I appeal to you with a heart that bleeds.”

This time, her voice trembled slightly.

“Even as heretics ravage our colonies, the current Commander-in-Chief continues to repeat reckless operations aimed only at the enemy’s heart—Pendragon—out of sheer stubbornness.”

I almost laughed.

Reckless operations.

She was not wrong.

The woman I had been facing—the Commander-in-Chief of the SPQR, Leila Vittonia Malcalia—certainly had a mad streak.

She knew no fear, never backed down, and was capable of staking the entire board.

The problem was—that method had worked before.

Eugene’s speech continued.

“Even as grain and oil from the colonies are cut off, the imperial house and both Senates of Rome and Constantinople remain silent.”

True. Unlike our country, where Sakuradite did almost everything, oil was still active to some extent in the SPQR.

Now that we had seized most of sub-Saharan Africa and the Middle East, their food and energy situation was… obvious.

The murmuring beyond the screen changed.

Anger.

Anxiety.

Exhaustion.

Eleven months into the war.

The SPQR, too, must have been worn down by now.

“Therefore, I—”

Eugene drew in a breath.

“Hereby declare martial law from this moment onward, in order to purge the incompetent imperial house, the Commander-in-Chief, and both Senates at once, and to defend the ‘state of the Senate and People of Rome’ that has endured since Romulus and Remus.”

I straightened from where I had been leaning against the backrest.

“She’s lost her mind.”

The commander of the capital defense forces, in the middle of the capital, had declared the imperial house, the Senates, and the Commander-in-Chief her enemies all at once.

My adjutant Bedivere, who had been quietly watching the footage with me, muttered as if reading my mind.

“…If she succeeds, she is a hero. If she fails, a traitor… is that not so?”

“Indeed, Sir Bedivere.”

“And that woman has just put her own neck on the line on a nationwide broadcast.”

Caroline responded to Bedivere’s words.

Then, from beyond the screen, a scream erupted.

That was the moment.

'KWA-BOOOOM—!!'

The entire broadcasting studio shook.

The wall collapsed, and fragments of concrete flew.

What cut across the field of vision was not a human being, but an enormous silhouette of steel.

A Knightmare.

Powered by Sakuradite, the strongest war machine in this world.

A single Knightmare had smashed straight through the outer wall of the broadcasting station and charged inside.

And in the next instant—

'BOOM'

A missile pierced Eugene’s torso with perfect accuracy.

“……”

Blood and flame covered the screen.

Screams. Smoke. The sound of the transmission breaking apart.

And then, silence.

For a while, neither I, Caroline, Bedivere, nor anyone else watching the footage said a word.

On the screen, fragments of corpses and debris lay scattered in the middle of the ruined studio.

Above them, the cockpit hatch of the Knightmare that had just broken in slowly opened.

Blonde hair.

Blue eyes.

A face still touched by youth.

And yet her gaze was strangely cold, without the slightest hesitation.

A young woman in a pilot suit was looking straight down at the camera.

And I knew that face.

“…Leila Vittonia Malcalia.”

Commander-in-Chief of the SPQR.

The monster who had only just come of age, and who had stood opposite me throughout the war.

A voice came from somewhere on the screen.

“…Leila, there’s a blood on your face.”

It was a man’s voice. Calm, and familiar in tone.

“Mm. Thanks, Akito. …Ah, it’s still broadcasting.”

Then Leila wiped the blood from her cheek with the back of her hand.

The motion was far too natural.

A person who had just blown someone to pieces in the middle of a broadcasting station behaved as calmly as if she were wiping smudged makeup in front of a mirror.

And a short while later, with help from her companions in the back—Anna Clement, Klaus Warwick, Akito, and the others—Leila changed into the ceremonial attire of the Megas Domestikos, that is, the Commander-in-Chief of the SPQR, and walked back before the screen.

A red dress.

A golden eagle emblem upon her chest.

A golden belt around her waist.

But it was not a simple ceremonial uniform.

Beneath the dress, parts of her pilot suit still remained, and her gloves and boots were still combat gear.

It was as if a war machine that had been killing people and piloting a Knightmare only moments ago had been forced to wear the face of the “state.”

“……”

For a moment, I was at a loss for words.

Until just now, this had been the suppression of a coup.

But the instant she came out in those clothes, the atmosphere changed completely.

This was not a mere military action.

“…That woman.”

When I muttered without thinking, Caroline answered in a low voice.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“She is declaring, right now, that ‘I am the SPQR.’”

She was right.

Eugene had imitated an emperor.

But Leila was different.

That was no imitation.

She had come forward bearing the military authority, traditions, and symbols of the empire upon her back.

The Commander-in-Chief of the SPQR, the Megas Domestikos.

In wartime, the office that held more military authority than any other save the emperor.

And now that woman sat in that office with bloodstained hands.

“…This truly is disgusting.”

I clicked my tongue quietly.

“The mastermind of the coup wears a golden dress.”

“The one who suppresses her wears a red dress.”

“What the hell is wrong with that country?”

Bedivere muttered with a weary face.

“Because it is the SPQR… the ‘state of the Senate and People of Rome’… perhaps?”

“That makes sense, and that makes it even more annoying.”

Just then, her voice sounded.

“Citizens of Rome, be at ease.”

Calm.

So calm that it was chilling.

“The traitor, Eugene Abigail Justinianus, has been dealt with by my hand.”

“And—I, Leila Vittonia Malcalia, as Megas Domestikos, hereby command all forces.”

Without realizing it, I held my breath.

“All members of the army, navy, air force, and Knightmare Corps, whether in the homeland or the colonies, listen.”

“Until I give the order, no unit is to leave its station.”

Her voice did not tremble in the slightest.

“Anyone who moves will be deemed a traitor, and I will make them suffer together with Eugene in hell. That is all.”

The broadcast cut off.

The room was quiet.

It felt as though even the faint trembling of the lights could be heard.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I tapped the armrest and slowly organized my thoughts.

Eugene was dead.

The coup had been decapitated the moment it began.

But—it was not over.

Coups of that kind always had follow-up movements.

There was no way Eugene had acted alone.

“What movement is there among SPQR forces outside the capital?”

Caroline flinched.

“Yes, Your Highness. Intelligence has already arrived. The Second Fleet stationed in Cyprus and part of the First Air Wing in Tuscany reportedly moved after receiving the code phrase ‘March on Rome.’”

“They were apparently classmates of the now-dead Eugene from the military academy.”

“…Good. Then execute Plan B.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

That was right.

Not long before this incident, Eugene had promised us that, if we tacitly accepted her “great undertaking” and her seizure of the imperial throne, she would cede Albion (*), Greenlandia (*), and Islandia (*), and officially withdraw the SPQR from sub-Saharan West Africa and South Africa.

But in preparation for the possibility that it might fail, I had already ordered plans for a general offensive across all SPQR territory.

Since the former had turned to foam in less than thirty minutes, we had no choice but to use the latter.

Leila’s Point of View

SPQR

The Senate and People of Rome

First Capital, Rome

The Center of the World

The Second Fleet stationed in Cyprus and the First Air Wing in Tuscany—the two commanders, both of them classmates of Eugene from the military academy—had begun moving several hours earlier after receiving the code phrase “March on Rome.”

But almost as soon as the broadcast ended, they stopped in the middle of the sky and sea.

When I personally broke into the broadcasting station and subdued Eugene, the soldiers who witnessed the failure of the coup had risen up and dragged down their commanders.

“We… did this for the SPQR… you insolent little girl!”

“Because you kept arrogantly aiming only for Pendragon—”

'Bang.'

'Bang!'

'Click'

'Click'

As two corpses fell on the floor, I spoke calmly.

“All traitors have been dealt with. As promised, ordinary soldiers will not be held guilty.”

“Thank you! Long live Your Excellency the Megas Domestikos!”

'Phew'

Where are more traitors hiding?

In the previous round, I failed because I did not know. But this time, I have dealt with three of them for now, so the rest should remain quiet… Still, those three must be only the tip of the iceberg. I need to remember as much as possible…

My thoughts did not last long.

“Leila! This is bad!”

Yukiya, a genius hacker and one of my personal guard, ran in with his face white as a sheet.

“What is it, Yukiya?”

And soon, every screen went black once again.

“Senate and People of Rome. I commend your strenuous efforts.”

“However—the tide has turned.”

A low, relaxed man’s voice.

It belonged to Lysander de Britannia, Fourth Prince of the Holy Britannian Empire, Grand Marshal, and Duke of Tenochtitlan.

A monster who, even after once losing power following my recapture of Albion, had clawed his way back and practically stripped away all of our colonies in sub-Saharan Africa and the Middle East.

Since the outbreak of the Atlantic War, I had used my Geass to return from death dozens of times and continue fighting.

Because of that, all of Britannia’s other generals had bent the knee before me.

But… that man… what is he?

I understood that Bismarck, the Knight of One whom I had faced above Britannia’s imperial capital of Pendragon, possessed a Geass of future sight, making him the worst possible match for me.

But, as far as I had glimpsed during the peace negotiations at El Escorial for the Britannian withdrawal from Iberia… Lysander was an ordinary person.

How… how does that make any sense?

“Our legions have already encircled you completely.”

“In the North Atlantic, the Arctic Ocean, the Sahara, Mesopotamia, and Siberia—overwhelming forces await you from five directions.”

At the same time, SOS signals surged from every front.

'Thud'

“T-this is impossible…”

'Sniff'

“What… what more was I supposed to do…?”

“Five fronts at the same time… How am I supposed to…”

That was when it happened.

Someone embraced me tightly.

It was my adjutant, and my lover… Akito.

He had run to me and pulled me into his arms.

“You worked hard, Leila. You really did everything you could.”

On the screen, Lysander’s voice continued.

“If you surrender, I will extend the mercy of the victor and demand not a single coin in war reparations.”

“But if you resist to the end—then I will burn every land you possess, leaving only Germania and Italia.”

“How long do you intend to cling to a single girl?”

That night, a red moon hung over the sky of Rome.

And from the following dawn—

Rome, Constantinople, Jerusalem, Alexandria, Antioch, and Frankfurt.

The six great metropolises were engulfed simultaneously by angry protesters, chanting the end of war.

I could do nothing.

I remained only in my residence in Rome.

In my absence, Akito, Yukino, Ayano, Ryo… and several other generals—even senators of Rome and Constantinople who had formerly served as chiefs in the Bureau of Barbarians or as retired military officers—stepped forward and tried to hold the fronts as long as they could.

But they were outnumbered and overwhelmed.

In the end, approximately two weeks later, His Imperial Majesty declared unconditional surrender.

“Salutem dicō, cīvēs Rōmae. Ego solus plenam responsabilitātem pro praesentibus rerum condicionibus sustineō.”

It was broadcast live in Latin for the West.

“Χαίρετε, πολῖται τῆς Ῥώμης. Ἐγὼ μόνος πᾶσαν τὴν εὐθύνην φέρω περὶ τῶν παρόντων πραγμάτων.”

At the same time, a Greek broadcast for the East followed.

English subtitles appeared on both versions.

And finally, a young female announcer recited the announcement again in English, with Spanish subtitles on the screen.

“This is the Public Broadcasting Service of the Senatus Populusque Romanus.”

“The Emperor’s address will now be repeated in English.”

“Greetings, citizens of Rome. I alone bear full responsibility for our present circumstances.”

“I hereby declare the unconditional surrender of the SPQR, effective immediately.”

“To Britannia: you have won. I ask that you observe the ceasefire, adhere to the forthcoming peace settlement, and cooperate fully in the humanitarian arrangements to follow.”

“Finally, I formally request the Chinese Federation to mediate the peace negotiations.”

The empire of 2,700 years, descending from Romulus and Remus—

had been brought down by this worthless woman alone.

* Duchy of Tenochtitlan: OTL Mexico.

* Exarchos Romae: commander of the defense forces of Rome, the SPQR’s First Capital.

* Megas Domestikos: Commander-in-Chief of the SPQR.

* Albion: OTL United Kingdom.

* Greenlandia: OTL Greenland.

* Islandia: OTL Iceland.

Author’s Note: In this fic, the EU has been replaced by the SPQR. Its official languages are Latin and Greek. For readability, SPQR dialogue is generally rendered in English unless the language itself matters to the scene. In-universe, characters are speaking Latin, Greek, Britannian, or other languages as appropriate. Lysander, in particular, mastered Latin in his youth, so SPQR speech is presented as what he understands from his point of view.