Surviving as a Prince of Britannia

The following is the side story of the protagonist - Lysander's - birth and his late mother, Sylvia de Britannia.

Author’s Note : This chapter contains mature content.

This chapter alternates between the point of view of Lysander, the protagonist and Sylvia de Britannia, his mother and Imperial Consort of the Holy Britannia Empire, one of Charles Zi Britannia's wives.

Holy Britannian Empire.

Imperial Capital Pendragon

The Imperial Palace

Night

Sylvia de Britannia's point of view

"Haa... Ahn! Your Majesty..."

The woman's moans echoed through the corridor,

Grr

I ground my teeth so hard that my jaw ached.

Today was supposed to be my night which I was chosen to share Charles' - I mean, the emperor's - bed.

And yet, inside the chamber...

The guard that I had personally summoned and brought to the palace, Marianne of the commoner class, was nestled in the Emperor's embrace.

"Step aside right now!"

My voice shrieked sharply.

The head maid lowered her head in an awkward expression.

"I'm terribly sorry, your highness. His Majesty... has already chosen Consort Marianne."

"How many Imperial Consorts are there?"

"Including you, your grace...there are 108 consorts."

I took a sharp breath.

"Then don't you realize how many nights do I have to wait if I miss this chance?"

"Yes, your grace. However..."

Suddenly, at that moment, the door flew open.

"Why is it so loud out here!"

My fucking husband and the emperor of this empire - Charles zi Britannia - emerged, looking disheveled.

Leaning on his arm was Marianne, her face flushed red, as if she had no intention of hiding what had just happened.

She was wearing the high-quality orange silk dress

Imported from the Senatus Populusque Romanus, or the 'Double-headed Chicken'.

The very dress I had begged Charles to buy it for me.

That scumbag had put it on Marianne.

Phew

I could feel the blood rushing backward into my head, but I barely clenched my teeth and swallowed it down.

If I got angry now, I would be the one to lose.

In the harem, past and present, the iron rule was simple : Touch the favorite, and you're the one who ends up bleeding.

I forced a smile.

"Consort Marianne. I wish to have a private audience with His Majesty."

"Could you please move aside?"

"Eh... wha..?!"

The Head Maid quickly intervened.

"Please, come this way, your highness."

"The maids will attend to you."

Marianne was half-crying as she was pulled out.

As soon as the door closed, Charles roared.

"Why did you take my love away from me?"

Why you piece of scum...

I nearly slapped him, but replied calmly.

"Your Majesty. Have you forgotten what my maiden name was?"

"That is, my house."

"..."

"The House of Ashford. The ones who mine Sakuradite from Japan and import it to the empire."

Charles' eyebrows twitched.

During the early days of his reign, during the 'Emblem of Blood' incident.

If it weren't for the Ashford family's funds and Knightmares, he would not be sitting on this throne today.

Of course, there were some others - including Marianne - who played few roles, but you can't rule out my house!

"...I was wrong."

Charles sighed as he walked over.

"Tonight, Sylvia. I want to see only you."

That night, the both of us ravaged each other with intensity.

He pulled me into his arms, with his strength overwhelming me.

"Oh, Sylvia..."

"My heart is only yours..."

"You are all talk, your majesty..."

Smack

He kissed me, rough and demanding, his hand tearing at the expensive fabric of my nightgown.

The silk snapped under his fingers, exposing my skin to the cool air, which only heated up under his touch.

He took me with a force that made my head spin, his hands bruising my hips as he drove into me again and again.

"I...I'm coming!!!"

I moaned, my legs wrapping around his waist, my tears mixing with the sweat on his back as he scratched my skin there.

The friction was maddening, a fire that burned away my dignity.

This madman...he was sleeping with Marianne before I rushed in, and now he...never mind...

I bit his shoulder to keep from screaming, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

But as the hours bled into dawn, as we collapsed onto the sweat-soaked sheets, I could feel a strange warmth bloom in my stomach.

Two months later, I knew it was true.

And nine months after that...

The Delivery Room was freezing, a stark contrast to the inferno I had just been through.

I lay on the bed, my body broken, my vision blurring.

I looked at the cradle, at the small, red creature wailing in the corner.

It was a boy.

He had my blonde hair and my blue eyes.

"Ly... san... der..."

My voice was a scratchy whisper.

I reached out a trembling hand.

"Ly... Sander..."

I tried again, the name slipping off my tongue like a prayer.

"Liberator..."

My hand fell from the cradle, heavy and lifeless.

The door opened, and Marianne walked in.

The new Empress, wearing the orange silk like a crown, bowed at me.

"Your highness..."

"Please address me as Consort Sylvia, your highness."

I wheezed, with my eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling.

"You are the favorite now, aren't you, your highness?"

Marianne knelt by the bed, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm here because of your highness' gratitude."

I didn't have any strength left to be bitter anymore.

I just wanted it to end.

Sigh

"Then... just one request... raise this child... as if he were your own."

"I promise. I will raise him more precious than my own life."

"His name...is... Lysander.. meaning 'Liberator'..."

I could feel my last strength leaving my body.

The darkness took me, and for the first time in my life, I was finally free.

Lysander's point of view

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

I gasped, my lungs burning as I was pulled into the blinding white light.

Why is it so bright?

Why is it so cold?

"Shhh, it's okay now. You're safe."

A voice. A woman's voice, soft and distant, like she's underwater.

I try to move, to kick, but my body is heavy.

There's a pain in my head, a sharp, splitting sensation.

I opened my eyes, but everything was blurry.

I see shapes moving above me.

A man, a woman... they looked like giants.

"Look at his eyes. They're just like hers."

"I know. He's beautiful."

Beautiful? I don't feel beautiful.

I feel like I've been torn apart.

I tried to say something, to tell them to stop the noise, but all that comes out is a weak, raspy sound.

"Waa... waa..."

The sounds echo in my ears.

I'm being held. Someone is holding me, a cool hand against my feverish skin.

Wait... I'm a baby?

The royal room was spinning.

The smell of blood and... something else.

Iron? No, it's the scent of the harem.

I heard a woman's voice, like breaking glass.

"Then... just one request... raise this child... as if he were your own."

"I promise. I will raise him more precious than my own life."

"His name... Lysander... meaning 'Liberator'..."

Lysander.

That's me.

I try to focus on the face above me.

The woman holding me... she looks sad.

Beautiful, but sad.

Hang on...isn't this Marianne vi Britannia of Code Geass?

...No way!

Why am I Charles' crazy son?!

I don't understand.

Why does it feel like I'm already tired?

Why do I already feel the madness of this family?

Am I an elder brother or younger brother of Lelouch or Schneizel?