"I can't go with you guys," Kuku said as she sat on the bed. Zvezdnyy clung to her as a drowning sailor would with a lifesaver. Kuku's hands brushed the girl's head. "I don't know what happened, but it seems Zvezdnyy needs me. I think she might've seen something she wasn't supposed to."
______
Ritsuka blushed heavily as he stared into the mirror. His reflection was the source of his current embarrassment.
"Why…?"
It was a blue sleeveless Chinese dress with gold trimmings and flowery patterns filling the surface. The dress was loose for him. Laced thigh highs crawled up his leg, from which sprouted straps that attached to a garter belt. A flower hair ornament was secured on the strands of his hair.
"Now to complete everything…" Charles then brought a black panties, upon which it became too much for Ritsuka, and the teen quickly took off everything. He did take care not to damage what must've been an incredibly expensive dress.
"No! Why did you make me wear this? Why did I agree to this?!" Ritsuka almost yelled as he covered his private parts.
"You're the perfect doll, almost peer to Artoria. Man or woman dresses: it doesn't matter what you wear, you look good in everything. Such a versatile model…" Charles breathed out as if awed to silence. He looked at a separate, more Western-inspired blue dress wrapped around a mannequin, black elbow gloves traced up the mannequin's arms as a pearl necklace and other jewelry dotted it like stars upon the firmament at night.
"I was inspired to make this dress upon a visit to Hong Kong. I imagined such a dress would've been a hit with the aristocracy, but after the Boxer Rebellion, the pedestal that China was once placed upon had fallen."
Oh, so that's why he's so discriminated against. Ritsuka knew about the Boxer Rebellion from a high school history class. What he didn't know, or at least, what never occurred to him, was how the wider world might've perceived this rebellion. Unlike in a Singularity, history never occurs in a vacuum.
"Now, given how much the aristocracy looks down upon crossdressers, I think it's best if you… wear this one." Charles took out a set of sharp-looking suits and handed them to Ritsuka. "Classic Edwardian fashion."
Looking at the clothing, the teen found it to closely resemble the modern conception of a three-piece suit.
As Ritsuka took to wearing the stuffy clothing, Charles began to explain the woman whom he was supposed to accompany. "Her name is Caroline Claycaster. The eldest daughter of the Claycaster family, and their lands reside up north in Yorkshire. I've been there. A picturesque place really, full of beautiful high lands and quiet towns. She is seen as a troubled child, she's been rejected by every suitor her parents tried to assign her with. A very un-womanly woman. Which is perfect for you since otherwise, no one would be caught dead being courted by an oriental."
Charles wasn't painting a very flattering image of Miss Claycaster.
Which made it all the more surprising when Ritsuka actually saw the girl in question.
She had blonde hair that resembled Artoria's. Her piercing red eyes appear to see right through him, as though all lies before her are naught but dust soon to be blown away. Her gaze was intense as she studied Ritsuka, examining every inch of his body.
Ritsuka felt like he was prey in the face of a hunter.
The ruby amulet on her neck gleamed as Caroline stepped forward, her heels clacked, and her red dress fluttered as if blown by the wind. "So you're the oriental who's supposed to accompany me tonight?"
Caroline's voice was sharp, her words to the point. The feeling of being in front of a hunter vanished. It was almost predictable how every member of the upper class's first notice was his ethnicity.
"Yes— Ma'am." Ritsuka quickly added that last part since Charles did teach him to always be respectful to members of the aristocracy.
"Hmph. And at least you have manners. I suppose you will do. Know this, however: I am only accompanying you to satisfy my parents' wishes. Do not think this will go any further."
Oh boy, surely this would be an entertaining night.
"Of course, milady," Ritsuka said in a flat tone devoid of sincerity. Caroline appeared to catch that, and her eyes narrowed. Ritsuka reached out with a receiving hand, and Caroline reluctantly answered that call.
Strangely, Ritsuka could feel bits of roughness on her hands. Calluses.
The two entered the carriage. As Ritsuka looked out through the window, the teen realized how fairy tale-like his current situation was. A lower class, riding with his princess…
Ritsuka glanced at Caroline. From this angle, he could only see half of Caroline, but whether due to the light coming from outside of the carriage or something else, the teen couldn't help but appreciate Caroline's beauty.
Her flawless skin, her thin lips, the bits of muscle exposed by her sleeveless dress.
She would easily be the most popular kid in school… if only her personality was kinder.
"You're thinking of something uncouth, aren't you?" Caroline gave Ritsuka a sideways glance.
Ritsuka went to deny it, but Caroline continued, "I could tell. It's become so easy. Who would've thought? That man is as easily read as animals?"
"If you consider admiring your beauty as 'uncouth,' then I guess I am." In Ritsuka's experience, it's always best to be sincere regarding women. Damn the consequences.
A splattering of crimson dusted Caroline's face, as if the reply wasn't what she expected, "W—well, you're certainly direct. Better than most of my past suitors, at least."
Ritsuka continued examining his partner for the banquet. As he looked, he found the beauty to be poisoned. The teen knew that people like her caused the suffering he saw in the slums. People like her, with their greed, caused the lower class to pass the day with a diet of cabbage soup.
"What do you do for fun?" Ritsuka asked. He wanted to know, to understand how people like her think. In his mind, no one could look at the state of the slums and continue to ignore it.
"What do you mean?"
"Your hobbies. What you enjoy doing. Personally I enjoy mechas. Giant machines the size of houses fighting giant monsters or each other."
"Giant machines? What absurd thing are you talking about? There are no giant machines. Is this a myth from your homeland?"
"It's a recently published book." Ritsuka said, pausing briefly to think of a way to articulate what a 'mecha' is to someone from Victorian London, "Imagine if you will, a machine in the physical likeness of a man, scaled up to the size of multiple stories. The book is about humans piloting such giant machines, fighting either monsters or enemy mechas."
Caroline looked incredulous, "And, this book is popular? It sounds more like something from myths. Like King Arthur and his Excalibur."
Ritsuka had to bite back a smile, aware that the real King 'Arthur' was also joining the ballroom banquet.
"The book is full of pictures, and the artist was careful to show the scale of things. Carriages being as small to these mechas as rats are to us. Buildings were caught in the crossfire, and there was destruction on a city-wide scale. Imagine all of London being caught on fire— that is what happens during a fight between each giant machine."
"Intere— ahem, how crude. How predictable." Caroline corrected herself. She placed a finger on her chin, "Though, your land must be a peaceful one to imagine war in an artistic medium."
Well, Japan hadn't experienced war in over 70 years. So many play war through manga and games. Those who actually lived through war would dream only of peace. To have extrapolated that much from so little information… Caroline is frighteningly intuitive.
"You're not a Chinaman, are you?"
"Huh?"
"I learned about the East from several tutors. I was taught that Japan had undergone centuries of peace while China had multiple rebellions. So you're a Japanman."
"That is correct." Ritsuka quickly switched the topic. "So what are your hobbies?"
Caroline looked elsewhere. "I like what all other girls like. I like to read, sew embroidery, and create handicrafts that are donated to charity bazaars. I like to sing, dance to songs, and to garden."
She was lying. The way Caroline wasn't able to meet Ritsuka's eyes showed how she didn't mean the words coming out of her mouth. She didn't like reading, creating embroidery and handicrafts, singing, dancing, or gardening. But why did she feel the need to lie about such a thing?
At least it tells Ritsuka that aristocrats love to lie.
"I hope you can tell me the truth," Ritsuka said, much to Caroline's surprise. "I would like to know the real you."
It didn't take long for the carriage to reach their destination. The teen helped Caroline step off the carriage. Words from other chatting aristocrats stood on the periphery of his perceptibility.
Taking in a breath, Ritsuka gazed upon Buckingham Palace. Images he'd seen of the landmark online did nothing to capture its majesty.
It was tall and long, more like a wall with windows than a house that someone might live in. It was hidden behind a wrought-iron gate adorned with golden accents and the royal coat of arms. Lamplight shone upon the crimson-bricked ground, showcasing the royal guards and their famous tall, fluffy hats.
You could fit hundreds of families in here. And yet… Only one family lives in such a palace under normal circumstances, with the rest all support staff. Entire families all to serve one.
"You are here to accompany me, are you not?" Caroline said, "So do your job."
Ritsuka blinked and realized how he'd been staring at the palace for the past few moments. He reached out to receive her hand and bowed apologetically. "I'm sorry, milady. Please, allow me to accompany you to this banquet."
He channeled every bit of his knowledge about the male love interest in a shojo manga, filling the container of an 'ideal prince. '
That seems only to cause Caroline to frown. Then that frown quickly vanished in place of a small blush as she took his hands with her own, "This is only for tonight."
The driver handed the guards standing in front of the gate a letter. Looking over it, the guard then let Caroline and Ritsuka through.
As the duo walked through the gate, their drivers staying behind, they found themselves amidst a procession of other nobles where the men were dressed in black and the women were a rainbow of different colors, a school of them that moved slowly like a river. Those same fluffy-hat-wearing royal guards flanked the river of aristocrats.
Ritsuka found an unspoken tension in the air. While the scions of noble houses chatted amongst each other, their patriarchs wore firm masks, their lips thin and dry. Pleasantries were traded, but talks among those older members were short and quiet.
"Oh, but I had envisioned an entrance of far greater magnificence—a carpet of the richest crimson, at the very least." A son said, undoubtedly the heir of some house. The son raised his feet and grimaced, "One does not simply allow fine footwear such as mine to make acquaintance with the common filth of the earth. I had rather hoped to maintain that standard."
"A queue? How positively barbaric for one of the Queen's stature. One does not wait—one arrives and is received." A daughter remarked to her gaggle of friends.
In the midst of the crowd, Ritsuka spotted Artoria and Aurora. Beside Artoria was a young man in his early 20s. His head leaned towards the King of Knights as his mouth moved, but Ritsuka couldn't hear what was said.
"Tell me, have you ever danced with a woman in Japan?" Caroline abruptly asked as the movement of the crowd stopped. Ritsuka turned to face her.
"My school organized a western-style ballroom dance before in a cultural festival. I went with my girlfriend, but I stepped on her toes a lot."
"What is a 'girlfriend'?"
"I dated her. I guess you would call it courting. I courted her for about a year before we broke up."
"Oh." Caroline fell into silence. The strength in her hands weakened.
It was strange. Caroline mentioned how she had had multiple suitors before, so why did she object to him having a girlfriend?
Ritsuka chalked it up to cultural differences as the river of aristocrats moved.
The duo went the rest of the way in silence. Entering the actual palace, Ritsuka was awed into silence, his mind taking in the regal opulence on display.
Plush red, patterned carpet floors received his feet, towering marble columns, and gilded moldings set one's expectation for the palace's stately elegance. Paintings of landscapes and historical figures filled the walls as busts of undoubtedly famous British figures filled the edges of the room.
It was opulence that rivaled Emperor Nero's home.
Going up the grand staircase dressed in dazzling gold-trimmed banisters and mahogany step, where an ornate domed ceiling featured frescos of historical periods illuminated by a chandelier of hundreds of crystals.
"Do close your mouth, oriental—you gape as though you were some base creature, utterly unfamiliar with decorum. Such unbecoming conduct is fit for only the lowest untouchables of both our societies."
It was another son of an aristocrat who said that. Facing him, Ritsuka noted how the teen's hair practically shimmered like the surface of a pool with the amount of gel used. His green eyes met Ritsuka's blue.
"What do you want, Mr. Richardson?" Caroline said with a tone dripping in annoyance.
"Why such dreadful formality? Only three months have passed since our courtship came to its inevitable end, and yet you address me as though we were mere acquaintances at a tedious garden party."
"That's because we are."
"Hmm, such talkbacks. It's no wonder so many suitors left you for a more agreeable woman. I pity you, oriental. Truly, I do. I know that the two of our civilizations have had regrettable differences, but on the subject of an ideal woman to spend the rest of your life with, I implore you to find better. After all, this was a woman who loves to do unwomanly hobbies like hunting rather than gardening."
"..." Ritsuka had a look of astonishment on his face. The forefront of his mind became flooded with thoughts of Artoria, someone who rose from the background of a simple squire (albeit with royal blood) into becoming a worthy ruler for all of Britain. He took a bit of joy in the dramatic irony of knowing how King Arthur, a figure crucial to the building block of Britain's creation myth, was indeed a woman.
"And what's wrong with hunting?" Ritsuka asked.
Baffled, Mr. Richardson continued, "Well, who knows if she'll return? Who knows if she's been gored by a boar?"
"There's always risks in everything, Mr. Richardson. I'll be with her as she hunts, to ensure her safety."
Annoyed, Mr. Richardson turned back to his partner for the evening, "It's no wonder China was defeated so easily if this is one of the prime examples of their race."
The group was herded into one final room that eclipsed all previous ones for its grandeur. It was as if someone had taken all the gold in the world and placed it within this one room. It was so shiny that Ritsuka had to look at the huge paintings that filled the wall as the glittering gold stabbed his eyes.
"Nero, you have been surpassed…" Ritsuka muttered quietly. He could almost imagine how the Emperor would feel challenged and immediately order her palace to be made even grander than this.
As he sat down, Ritsuka finally spotted a head of purple, and although one might imagine Artoria was difficult to find given the number of blonde women in this ballroom, her kingly aura attracted people's attention like a magnet.
The eleven-course meal began. The food was obviously delicious, if a bit too spiced for his taste. Every plate given, Ritsuka devoured it so quickly and messily that Caroline chastised him. It was completely unlike the others, who ate only a few bites and were more preoccupied with their conversation.
"Where are you taking those leftovers?" Ritsuka asked one of the maids.
"To the garbage." She replied, much to Ritsuka's astonishment. He helplessly watched as a large, barely touched turkey was taken away.
You could feed Mary's family with that turkey for a whole week!
During the third course, the Queen finally made her appearance, sitting on the chair that looked like a throne with how ornate and jewel-studded its back was.
The Queen looked like she had seen a lot in her life. Weary wrinkles filled her face like waves upon a beach. She ate slowly, though it seemed she finished most of her meal before having the maids carry her plates away.
It was a jarring experience. Having known the pit of poverty that Mary's family was stuck in while also seeing this mountain of opulence the elites of society were sitting on.
Ritsuka felt sick. Right now, there could be dozens dying of starvation and hundreds of children who were forced to consume stuff that is better called waste than something edible. And yet these people are throwing away perfectly good food as if they're trash. He looked down at the fish bones on his plate, resting in a pool of dark colored sauces.
"You eat as if you haven't eaten in days, Ritsuka," Caroline said. "Act like someone of your station."
Caroline's eyes drifted towards the mess around his plate, compared to hers, which were practically sterile. The maids came in with handkerchiefs and wiped away the mess.
"I…"
He felt guilty. It was as if enjoying luxurious food like these were criminal when others of his station were starving. When the eighth course began, Ritsuka excused himself.
"Excuse me."
The teen left quickly without turning around. He asked for the bathroom and waited. A minute later, Mash knocked on the door to the men's washroom, and the two went to work. Walking through the golden halls of Buckingham Palace, the two acted like a pair of aristocrats, blending in with the others.
Ritsuka recalled his exact mission: since it was too dangerous for him to acquire the Grail directly, it was safer to map out where the Grail might be. Later on, Kuku would rip through the front gate and quickly acquire the Grail. The teen noted how there were too many locked doors to keep track of, so instead, he opted to note which door had guards stationed outside.
It was really useful how the doors were numbered.
However, it didn't take long before the teen found himself lost. The duo was soon found by a pair of guards and kicked out of the banquet.
Ritsuka hissed as he felt around the bruises on his body. The guards were especially rough as they threw him out the gate while Mash was simply escorted. He saw how the Shielder wanted to summon her shield and fight them off until Ritsuka raised a hand to stop her.
It was better this way.
The guards would be more alert for the foreseeable future if they encountered a Demiservant like Mash.
"Let's get you to Kukulkan." Mash said as she helped the limping Ritsuka. Even when it's so late, the duo still gained some attention as they trekked around the edge of the slums to reach the Church.
"What happened?" Upon seeing Ritsuka lying atop one of the benches used for Sunday mass, Kuku asked immediately. She approached and placed a hand upon the teen's forehead. Ritsuka found her touch strangely cold like a pillow upon which you just laid down.
Immediately, the teen found his body heating up.
"They found us." Mash replied with a pained expression, "We were snooping around the Palace, and the guards decided to rough Senpai up for trespassing before throwing us out."
Kuku stayed silent for a few seconds, looking all the more stern as her other hand began tracing Ritsuka's hair. "I see."
*Dun dun dun*
Just as Kuku was putting finishing touches on Ritsuka's healing, there was a knock on the Church's door. No one said anything as three pairs of eyes stared at the wood panels that made up the door.
"DUN DUN DUN*
A few seconds later, there was another series of knocks, much more frantic than before.
"This is the police." The voice was muffled, yet not so much as to lose coherency.
Mash moved to the door and opened it slightly, allowing both sides to see a sliver of the other. "Can I help you?"
"We received a report that someone claiming to be a legitimate Angel is here. That is heresy."
"What…?"
The door moved and Mash responded by holding it in place, "You didn't think there'll be no repercussions for a false statement, did you?"
With his head through the gap, Ritsuka saw that the voice belonged to a man with blonde hair. He wore a cone-shaped hat adorned with a silver star. His black coat seemed to swallow the light from his lantern.
The man stared intensely at Mash, a hand on the door as he tried to push it in, "It's just going to be harder for the heretic. Stop resisting."
"What is going on here?" Dressed in his sleeping attire, Father Benedict walked into the main hall of the Church.
"Are you the Father of this Church?"
Benedict nodded, and the man elaborated, "We've received reports of an 'Angel' descending in this Church. And we're here to arrest you for heresy. You may just avoid excommunication if you cooperate with us."
Benedict looked confused.
"Heresy? This is no heresy. Ask the people around you if they think it false. An Angel has indeed descended and has shown mercy upon the less fortunate, something I could not say the same for you."
Kuku paid the man only the barest of attention, more focused on finishing Ritsuka's healing.
Rage flared in the man's eyes. He roughly reached in and tried to find something— a chain lock that was holding this door semi-closed— not realizing that it was Mash herself who was holding the door in place.
"Boss."
"Johnny boy, give me a hand here."
"Boss, you're attracting a crowd."
"What?"
"LOOK!" Iskander yelled, his voice clear as distilled water. A pit opened up in Ritsuka's stomach, dread filling in as the fully healed teen's gut instinct began screaming at him. "OPEN YOUR EYES AND SEE! There—upon the steps of the Church! Do you still believe the constables serve the people? That they serve God? Look upon the steps and know the truth! Your so-called 'betters' do not walk with God—they spit upon Him! They sneer at His name as they sneer at you! These gluttons, these leeches, know only how to take and take—and now they have come for your Angel!"
The man left, and the church door opened wider, permitting Ritsuka to see beyond. The darkness of night was broken by the presence of torches, casting a glow upon Iskander's face.
Iskander began shrieking curses at the aristocracy. An atmosphere of fear fell upon the crowd like a curtain. Fear consumed every rational thought, distorting it into mirages that tell the viewer what they want to hear and who their enemy is. Iskander's voice echoed against the houses of the slums. He preached and preached against the injustice of those above robbing those below.
The constables strode forward, carrying their batons to try and silence Iskander. Their screams answered Ritsuka's question of how well it went.
"WILL YOU STAND SILENT AS THEY RIP HER FROM YOU? AS THEY WILL WITH YOUR DREAM OF A BETTER FUTURE?"
A hundred torches rose into the air, flickering light and shadows that danced against the wall.
"""NO!"""
"WHAT DO WE SAY TO THOSE WHO HIDE IN THEIR IVORY TOWERS, FEASTING WHILE YOU STARVE?"
"""NO MORE!"""
"There is only ONE path to true freedom—the freedom intended by God! Only ONE way to claim the equality promised by the Savior! Only ONE way to ensure they NEVER steal your Angel again! WILL YOU BOW AND LET THEM? WILL YOU BREAK AND LET THEM RIP AWAY YOUR HOPE (Angel)? OR WILL YOU RISE? WILL YOU ROAR? WILL YOU MAKE THEM TREEEEEMBLE?!"
The crowd roared, deafeningly loud. And suddenly, they became the army that Iskander would use to conquer London.
The powder keg that is London was set alight, and now it's blowing up.
____
AN: You can't just not have a crossdressing scene with Gudao. That scene in Shinjuku is famous for a reason.
Iskander doing Iskander-stuff. His favorite. Also of note, Iskander isn't Christian. He, like many autocrat, likes to use religion as a means of controlling the masses. So if invoking names would get him into power he'd happily do it.
Anyway, the conclusion to London is coming very very soon. All the mysteries I've introduced will be solved, though whether Ritsuka wants them to be solved not even he knows. The conclusion to his character arc is almost here. The moment that will define him. Afterward we'll get back to our usual schedule.