[It changes the way she looks at him; it softens the heart-rending belief that her little sister died because the love she extended to her brother was met only with hatred. If what he says is true—if he never intended to cause such grievous harm to her sister—then does that mean he be trusted? Can she spare Euphy the pain of discovering her fate, and can Euphy be allowed the company of her brother?]
[Cornelia still doesn't know.]
[Lelouch had been so flippant when she'd asked about Euphy earlier that it's impossible for her to reconcile what he's saying now with how he had acted before. She knows that this shift was likely caused by her making clear that she knows his reign was a ruse, but can't decide whether she believes it has motivated him to be truthful or to use it to his advantage. There is more to his reaction than his words, though. The way he holds his arm, the way he trembles—those responses look real to her, and there's something so infuriating about it all that for a moment she loses focus on the lie and instead begins resenting him for his pain. He hurts, he suffers, he grieves?]
[No. Euphy has suffered so much more than his curse.]
You gave Clovis the dignity of a quick death. [A single shot, a bullet to the brain, he would have barely felt anything.] But Euphy... [Her voice picks up again here, louder, sharper, less controlled.] She died in agony by your hand.
[Another weaponisation of her sister; another impulse she can't hold back. The fact that he killed her is almost unbearably painful but she understands it on a certain level. As far as the public knew, Euphy had orchestrated the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of people, and given what Cornelia now knows, there was no bringing her sister back from that. Either she remained under the Geass forever, or she was freed of it and spent the rest of her life knowing what she had done. That doesn't change how deeply she suffered during her last moments. That doesn't make her death seem any more loving, any more compassionate, any less spiteful.]
After all the pain you've caused her, what right do you have to act as though you haven't destroyed her in every possible way? What claim do you dare to take on her love?
[On her laughter. On her smile. On her forgiveness. On any of it.]
no subject
[It changes the way she looks at him; it softens the heart-rending belief that her little sister died because the love she extended to her brother was met only with hatred. If what he says is true—if he never intended to cause such grievous harm to her sister—then does that mean he be trusted? Can she spare Euphy the pain of discovering her fate, and can Euphy be allowed the company of her brother?]
[Cornelia still doesn't know.]
[Lelouch had been so flippant when she'd asked about Euphy earlier that it's impossible for her to reconcile what he's saying now with how he had acted before. She knows that this shift was likely caused by her making clear that she knows his reign was a ruse, but can't decide whether she believes it has motivated him to be truthful or to use it to his advantage. There is more to his reaction than his words, though. The way he holds his arm, the way he trembles—those responses look real to her, and there's something so infuriating about it all that for a moment she loses focus on the lie and instead begins resenting him for his pain. He hurts, he suffers, he grieves?]
[No. Euphy has suffered so much more than his curse.]
You gave Clovis the dignity of a quick death. [A single shot, a bullet to the brain, he would have barely felt anything.] But Euphy... [Her voice picks up again here, louder, sharper, less controlled.] She died in agony by your hand.
[Another weaponisation of her sister; another impulse she can't hold back. The fact that he killed her is almost unbearably painful but she understands it on a certain level. As far as the public knew, Euphy had orchestrated the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of people, and given what Cornelia now knows, there was no bringing her sister back from that. Either she remained under the Geass forever, or she was freed of it and spent the rest of her life knowing what she had done. That doesn't change how deeply she suffered during her last moments. That doesn't make her death seem any more loving, any more compassionate, any less spiteful.]
After all the pain you've caused her, what right do you have to act as though you haven't destroyed her in every possible way? What claim do you dare to take on her love?
[On her laughter. On her smile. On her forgiveness. On any of it.]