A/N: This is a simple little oneshot I decided to do for a friend of mine...sort of a break from writing Scattered Reflections, which I am working on, to anyone who cares. Both my wonderful friend, whom this is dedicated to, and I rather dislike Euphemia, and as of late there seem to be a lot of fics with her and Suzaku masquerading as SuzaLulu fics...or things along those lines. We don't like it. So I'm just balancing it out a little.

Warning: Hating on Euphemia, yaoi, slight LuluSuza/SuzaLulu lime...potential OOC? I don't know how to write Euphemia's character after all XD but I definitely wasn't trying to write her in a "good" light.

If you don't like slight bashing of Euphemia, please don't read. There's no point in reading something you don't enjoy. If you do like it, then by all means go ahead~


Her frustration could not be matched.

Never in her life had she been faced with such an unrelenting and agonizing problem. There were nights she lie in her bed, unable to shut her eyes for fear of dreaming of him. There were times she cried herself to sleep, only to cry again upon waking up from the unconscious fulfillment of her wishes.

Why couldn't those dreams become a reality? Whenever she had wanted something before, she just worked towards it with all her might, and eventually she obtained it.

Why couldn't he see what she wanted? Why couldn't he accept the role she had hinted at him taking, over and over again?

She wasn't sure how much more she could take of this. What did she have to do to get her message across? She was above asking him straight out, and yet as her desperation increased, she knew she was becoming more and more blunt with him. But there had to be a limit to his ignorance. He couldn't seriously be that blind – she wouldn't believe that he was capable of it. Not her perfect white knight.

It had started as curiosity and interest in the anomaly of the Britannian army. No other eleven had made it to such a rank, none had such skill or the determination to serve a nation that had taken away their freedom.

From there it became respect. His skills were unmatched and he was a true gentleman with kind eyes, a soft smile, and charmingly messy hair. He treated her like a princess even before he knew that she was one. On top of that she learned how chivalrous and righteous he was, how strong a sense of right and wrong he had. It was all so perfect in her mind; he truly was a white knight straight out of a story book. She was a princess, and she had found her knight in shining armor. She did everything in her power to keep him with her. She used every trick she knew of to try and reveal his feelings for her. The perfection of their relationship could not have been a mistake or a common coincidence. It had to be fate, and that was why she was sure that he would feel the same way for her.

The reason why he wouldn't respond had to be because he was such a wonderful person that he worried about harming her or appearing too brusque in the presence of a lady. Perhaps he was even shy, the adorable type of man that sat around wondering for hours how he could possibly appeal to her, if he even had a chance with her.

But she wanted him to know, so badly, that he did. That they were meant to be.

She wanted it so badly that her chest always ached. It was only in his presence that she felt elated, that her pulse quickened and her face flushed and butterflies flittered about in her stomach. She would wait, on edge, each time that they were together, for him to come around.

She had made him her knight. She demanded his attention as much as she could. She spent hours deciding which outfits might appeal to him, how to wear her hair, what make-up to use…everything was so perfectly planned and calculated. It was just a matter of time before he recognized it, or before he gave in to what was meant to be. She became exasperated though. How much longer would it take him?

When he was ready to die for her, she was extremely touched of course, but horrified as well. What beautiful tragedy! Her white knight giving up his life for his lady, in her name, spending his last moments speaking to her.

But it couldn't be that way. Not with her. Her fairy tale was not meant to be a beautiful tragedy, but beautiful perfection. She was supposed to live with her faithful knight by her side, there to protect her and kiss her hand and stare at her with loving emerald eyes and hold her tenderly in strong arms when they were alone.

In a burst of spontaneity she told him that she loved him. It was an act of desperation. The words had been blurted out before she could stop herself, before she could continue to be the innocent princess.

But he had accepted the order to love her back.

Of course he would, even if that wasn't the way she had wanted it. Still, she was unbelievably happy. Finally, finally she had him! Her knight, and she his princess, and together they would be happy and the world would see that it was meant to be, and eleven, Britannian, none of it mattered. For her knight she would adopt the idea of bringing peace and equality to the elevens, because that was what all kind and fair princesses did. They had a wonderful cause and a need to help human beings.

So she was ecstatic and she knew that he would make it out okay. When he did, it only reinforced her idea of what was meant to be.

He was cute and embarrassed, just like she had expected.

And that was why she was willing to give him some time. But the time dragged on longer and longer. He didn't hold her hand. He didn't pull her into a loving embrace. He didn't whisper that he loved her into her ear, nor did he place chaste kisses upon her cheeks. The way he looked at her was the same, kind and warm, and the way he acted, gentlemanly, was all the same.

Once again she was frustrated and didn't understand why it wasn't all working out like it was supposed to. It was impossible for him to simply have accepted the order because that's what it was. Her knight wasn't like that!

But once again, when it dragged on like this and didn't go according to plan, she was forced to become more and more blunt. He always seemed to dodge around it, though, shying away from her and reminding her of important matters of business when she got too "off topic". She was at her wits end with this knight of hers.

All he needed, she decided, was a little nudge in the right direction.

She was in her pink slip of a nightgown, shimmery and silky and with little spaghetti straps that occasionally liked to slide low on one shoulder. Her beautiful pink hair was let loose in gentle ripples around her shoulders like an angelic halo. Her feet, in fluffy slippers, padded softly along as she walked towards the room her knight should be fast asleep in. She had gotten a guard to take her all the way here, only begrudgingly accepting the pink robe and slippers he insisted on having her wear. But the robe was done away with when she arrived, as it was unnecessary and simply blocked the sight she wanted him to behold. The door to his room was unlocked when she gently tried it, and she didn't think for a single moment that it was strange. Because this was how it was supposed to be, there shouldn't have been any obstacles anyway.

The door was quietly pushed open, and she expected to see her love in bed with his angelic face illuminated by moonlight, the perfect setting for what was to happen.

But everything was all wrong.

Familiar black locks, a lithe and pale body, hazy purple eyes, fingers in hair, tan against porcelain. The room was silent besides the soft noise of the bedsprings, heavy breathing, and the occasional moan…two distinct voices, both of which were male.

They were so preoccupied with one another that they didn't notice her standing in the doorway. The way they looked at one another, the way they gripped each other as if for dear life, the passion in their movements…all of it was so painfully clear to her. Her world shattered and she turned deathly pale. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she wasn't sure what to do. The other man she had first come to love, Lelouch, her half brother, the one whom was forbidden to her was in bed with the man she had finally found, the perfect man that would keep her from acting on her love for Lelouch.

She turned and fled.

When she exited the building she found a place to sit and cried hard into her hands. How long it had been going on for she wasn't sure, but it brought a bitter understanding of why he had been so "oblivious" to her advances.

Lelouch had stolen Suzaku from her.

The thought made her heart hurt as if repeatedly stabbed. The perfection that had been so meticulously put into place, all the plans that had made so much sense, everything that was obviously supposed to be was breaking in front of her. But it couldn't possibly be happening. Not to her. It had to be a mistake. Maybe she was dreaming. It had all been so clear before! Now she couldn't understand why. Suzaku wasn't stupid, he was perfect! He was her perfect white knight! Why had he strayed from everything that they had had to be with Lelouch? Why was Suzaku having Lelouch when she couldn't? Why was Lelouch taking what was rightfully hers?

Euphemia continued to sit out in the cold night air and cry, all alone.

Her white knight wasn't so white.

She had never had a white knight in the first place.

For the first time the perfect princess saw her world of perfection falling to pieces all around her.