Chapter Text
The moment we enter the building hosting the royal warrant contest, I can't take my eyes off the massive elephant standing proudly at the center of the space. A wide grin spreads across my face. Without thinking, I jog over to it, practically bouncing. Finnian joins me, eyes wide in awe.
"Wow!" he exclaims, pointing with a huge grin. "What large animal is that?!"
I tug him forward by the jacket, unable to hide my excitement. "It's an elephant!"
"Wow! Lady Rina even knows what it is! Incredible!" Soma shouts, clearly delighted. "Those are sacred animals. I have about ten of those in my palace."
"Amazing!" Bard gasps, nearly choking on disbelief.
"They can fit such large animals in your house?!" Mey-Rin blurts, completely thrown.
Sebastian's voice cuts in smoothly from behind us. "Please try to not wander too far."
I spin on my heel and bounce over to him with a bright smile. "Isn't it cool?!"
A single hair pops out of place on his head. "I do not care much for animals, my lady."
I pout. "Ahh? No fun."
He sighs, clearly not indulging me any further.
"Yo, Earl and Lady!" Lau's voice rings out as he emerges from the crowd with Ran Mao in tow.
Immediately, my excitement dims.
His presence sours the mood for me, so I let the others follow him as I drift off. It feels oddly comforting to be surrounded by another culture today. I find myself drawn toward a vendor's stall displaying Indian trinkets and cloth.
A dupatta hangs in the corner—deep reds and glowing oranges, streaked with delicate golden thread work. It reminds me of sunsets and old school pickups, when a classmate's mother would wear something similar.
I reach out and run my fingers along the silky material, eyes tracing the intricate patterns sewn into it.
"Would you like to purchase this, miss? I believe it would look wonderful on you." the vendor says warmly.
I return his smile and fish into my coat pocket. "I would, actually. And thank you."
He names a price—definitely on the steep side—but I don't hesitate. Marketing is a thing after all. I hand over the coins, take the dupatta, and drape it over one shoulder. It rests oddly against my Victorian dress, a bright flash of culture among stiff layers of corsetry, but I couldn't care less. I love it.
"Ohhh! That looks good on you, Lady Rina!" Soma beams.
I nod, satisfied. "That's what the vendor said too."
"I'm surprised you know how to wear it though."
"Soma, I know a lot more than you think." I tease, throwing him a wink.
The others call us over to admire some jewelry next.
We crowd around a display of glittering pieces while Soma enthusiastically points things out, rattling off names and uses I've never even heard of. Some of the items look legitimate, but most feel like tourist knockoffs. Faux culture pretending to be authentic. I eventually lose interest and glance around, spotting my brother nearby.
He's talking to someone. I skip over, hair bouncing behind me with every step.
"Brother!" I call.
He turns. "What is it?"
I twirl a little and motion to the dupatta. "What do you think?"
He raises a brow, unimpressed. "It looks...nice."
I shoot him a glare. "Che. Real positive."
"Who is this, Earl?" a voice interrupts.
I blink. A man I didn't notice before is standing beside us, grinning at me in a way that immediately raises my guard. Lord West. Great.
I school my expression and dip into a quick curtsey.
"This is my sister, Lady Rina Phantomhive." Ciel introduces.
I resist the urge to grimace. That title still sounds strange when said out loud.
"Oh? I did not know you had a sister!" West exclaims.
I rise, smiling politely. "I've been living across the country for some time. Our father wanted me to receive the best training a lady could possibly gain."
"I see now! What a fine job he did in doing so too, might I add."
My temple twitches. Gross. He's clearly interested. I resist the urge to recoil. "Why, thank you so much, sir."
Ciel taps my hand subtly—cut it. I clear my throat and redirect the topic. "So, what is it you two were discussing?"
West chuckles, a little too tightly. "Let's not talk about that for now. Anyway, I heard that the queen might be attending this curry show?"
"And?" Ciel prompts.
"Well, since King Albert passed away, Her Majesty doesn't appear in public so often. I'd like her to taste the curry we're so proud of before I receive the royal warrant."
I cross my arms.
"Cocky man, isn't he?" I mutter once West walks off.
Ciel scoffs, "He makes it obvious like a fool. 'Before he claims the royal warrant,' eh?"
"Confident idiotic fool, then."
"He really is certain he will win." Sebastian observes.
"I can't wait to see his face when he realizes he's lost." Ciel replies, smirking.
"Yes, my lord," Sebastian nods. "Then I will head to the competitors' room and wait."
As they start to move, I quickly reach out and catch Sebastian's coat. He pauses, glancing back with one brow raised.
"Good luck, Sebastian!" I cheer, beaming.
He processes that for a beat, then bows slightly. "Thank you, my lady."
I release him and return to my brother's side.
"Who do you think will win?" I ask, genuinely curious.
Ciel adjusts his hat, eyes locked on the stage. "Obviously it will be us."
"Determined, aren't you?"
"I am confident Sebastian can complete a task as simple as this."
"Want to bet?"
He glances at me. "You do not believe Sebastian will win the royal warrant?"
I shrug, amused. "He's going up against a man who fully believes in his religion and relies on it obsessively. I'm just saying…there's a chance things won't go as we want."
Ciel considers it, then sighs. "Fine. Let's bet on it."
"What are we betting?"
"Have anything in mind?"
I tap my chin, a sly grin forming. "Oho~ How about you going a day without Sebastian?"
He visibly pales. "I—I can do it."
I snort behind my hand. "That didn't sound very confident."
"I can!" he snaps, red-faced.
"If you say so."
"If you lose, then you have to be a maid for one day. Working directly under Sebastian."
...I freeze. That might be worse than learning he's a demon. My blood chills.
"I hate you." I say flatly.
He tips his hat, smirking. "Play dirty, you get dirty back."
I cross my arms with a dramatic huff.
Someone takes the stage—a man with shaggy brown hair and a mustache. He lifts a hand to quiet the crowd.
"We have now come to the highlight of 'The Empire-Governed Indian Culture and Prosperity Exhibition.' With participants from famous curry houses throughout London, let the curry show begin!" he announces. "We have prepared a special curry for the guests who are present. Please wait in anticipation!"
Applause bursts out around us. I clap too, swept up in the energy—though in the back of my mind, the looming maid-bet sends a chill down my spine. If I lose…Sebastian will make a game of it. One long, torturous, sickening game.
The announcer continues, "Now, today's judges are…" The curtain shifts as the judges step out. "A palace chef who will not allow any compromises in taste, Chef Higharm; a tax collector currently serving in India, Mr. Carter; and Viscount Druitt, who has a great love of the arts and food!"
My entire body locks up. Him?!
I shudder. Druitt scans the crowd with that creepy grin and all I can think is wasn't he supposed to be in jail? The women around me swoon. Sure, he's not ugly—but still. I gag internally.
Ciel is just as horrified.
"Eh? Wasn't he arrested by the Yard?" Lau asks from behind.
"That's what I thought as well." I say.
"He probably bribed his way out. How corrupt…" Ciel mutters.
"How unfortunate."
The curtain shifts again. The contestants enter the stage and line up. I spot Sebastian immediately—his fake, smug smile in full force. Agni stands beside him, his stare sharp and burning.
"Now, these are today's contestants!" the announcer shouts, listing names and companies. When he reaches Sebastian's—
"Eh? Butler?" he asks, confused.
"Yes, I am not a chef," Sebastian says with a closed-eye smile. "I am a butler to the core."
The crowd begins murmuring, unsure what to make of it. I sweatdrop. This is making us look...a little ridiculous.
"Anyways! We have presented to you each contestant! With a group like this, I'm sure we can expect some tasty food! Let the contest begin!"
The curtain rises again, revealing the cooking stations. The chefs immediately dive into their work, and soon the air is thick with the scent of spice and sizzling oil.
Ciel shuffles closer. "I guess we'll just sit back and wait for the curry now."
Before I can reply, someone nearby shouts, "Hey! Check it out!"
We all turn. Agni is unbinding his right hand, his movements focused and precise. He radiates calm intensity—completely immersed. It's mesmerizing to watch, like a dance of devotion and control.
The crowd starts buzzing, impressed. Then I notice Sebastian speeding up too—his smirk growing.
"Che. Looks like we won't lose easily either." Ciel says.
From not far off, West is shouting something. He sounds nervous. I smirk.
Then Sebastian picks up a bar of chocolate and adds it to the pot—still wearing that smug, perfect smile. I understand their concern.
However, never underestimate the power of chocolate!
"As expected of Funtom, a company that makes toys and sweets! This sure is a new form of advertising!" West boasts nearby, his voice loud and full of humor.
Ciel and I just stare ahead, unmoved by his amusement.
This whole competition has me seriously wondering if we can pull off a win. Sebastian's recipe might be good—great, even—but what does Agni bring to the table? They call him the right hand of God. How divine can that be compared to a full-fledged demon?
Both of them are working so fast it's like watching time-lapse footage—their hands are a blur. Then Agni pulls out a blue lobster. My jaw nearly unhinges. Those exist?! Gasps ripple around us.
Viscount Druitt launches into some poetic crustacean monologue, of course.
My eyes dart to Sebastian. He's preparing...bread dough? Seriously? I blink a few times to make sure I'm not seeing things. He rolls the dough into little balls with his hands. What's he doing, serving it as a side dish?
The confusion hits me hard. I'm trying to piece together his angle, but I'm coming up blank.
Soma appears beside me, clearly panicking. "This is bad! We're going to lose this competition!"
"How so?" Ciel asks, cool as ever.
"It is true that Ciel's butler's curry is the real thing. But it is only the curry that is perfect! The problem is the naan. Because it will not staple in Bengal, I know little about it, but I do know that naan is made from fermented paste and wheat. They are baked together at a high temperature in an oven we call Tandoori," Soma explains, his words speeding up with every breath. The curry in Sebastian's pot bubbles violently, and Soma looks like he's about to hyperventilate. "As I thought, one week to master the art of making curry was too short. The contest—"
"—the contest will prove who wins," I cut in, finishing his thought. "I don't know what Sebastian's aiming for...but I do know he wouldn't serve it unless he was absolutely sure. That's just how he is." I smirk a little, despite myself.
Soma goes quiet, probably lost in his own spiral of worry.
0o0o0o0o
"Time's up! Now to invite all the judges to the stage," the announcer calls out. "First up is Persian Tabb company's beef curry!"
The judges receive their plates. The royal chef tastes first. "The beef was cut into large chunks and cooked well. It goes down nicely. It really is an extravagant curry. But the flavor is plain and ordinary with no fragrance. You used curry powder. Professional chefs using curry powder! This is simply ridiculous!"
I suppress a snort. Honestly, that's kind of hilarious.
Next up: "Dahila company's spices seem to have been mixed nicely by the chef. The spiciness is overpowering, the subtle nuances of the flavor have been lost. It was a nice attempt, however..." Viscount Druitt comments, smiling.
Then it's Agni's turn. He presents his dish, removing the lid.
"This is...my curry," he announces, voice solemn. "Blue lobster and seven types of curry, an imperial feast."
Even from here, it looks divine. My mouth waters just looking at it.
"A whole Homard Bleu served with red, yellow, and green curries...what delicacy is this?" the royal chef asks, stunned.
Agni explains, "I made a variety, each has a different level of spiciness and flavor so you can sample each to your liking. All the curries were made to go perfectly with the lobster."
"Seven authentic curries prepared by an Indian served with Homard Bleu. Then I must—" the royal chef takes a bite. His cheeks flush. "D-Delicious! The meat is suitably springy, and after chewing, the subtly sweet flavor permeates the entire mouth."
"And that sweet and spicy, clear and rich soup! All this was accomplished without compromising the marvelous taste of lobster!" another judge beams.
Then Druitt. Of course.
He moans. Literally moans. "Like the beautiful lady unexpectedly met, with seven precious stones, wrapping their body around you. A gold brooch shaped like a dove, a bracelet made of sapphires and pearls, a garnet necklace, a cameo medal...and a diamond and emerald ring on your exquisite fingers. By you my...heart's been stolen from me. Simply amazing! This is the best curry!"
I cringe so hard my spine twinges. Disgust rises in my throat. I cannot stand this man.
"Thanks for your praise." Agni says with a respectful bow.
Two other chefs go up after him. They're...fine. Nothing like Agni's masterpiece. Then finally—it's Sebastian's turn.
"So, has the winner been decided? Last to the stage is the Funtom company!" the announcer says, all drama.
Sebastian approaches the table. I bite my nail. This is it. What the hell is he planning with that dough?
"This is my curry," Sebastian says, lifting the lid.
"This—this is!" the royal chef stammers, stunned.
The judges stare. It's just dough. No curry in sight.
"What is this white thing?! What are you trying to pull?!" the royal chef demands, standing.
Sebastian, perfectly calm, grabs the dough with tongs and walks to the station. He drops it into the fryer.
My eyes widen. The pieces click together.
He's making curry bread. Curry bread. Oh my God. That's genius.
Deep-frying anything makes it instantly 100% better.
"Ah! It's deep-fried?" a judge exclaims.
"Ciel! What in the heavens is your butler doing?!" Soma yells.
"Is he trying to make a donut?!" Bard shouts.
I grin at Bard. "Isn't it so creative? Not sure if he beat the Japanese first or not in creating it!"
"J-Japanese?" Bard echoes.
I nod eagerly. "Yep! Right, Lau?"
Lau just smiles. "I do not know if the Japanese have created this yet either."
I shrug and return to watching Sebastian.
He pulls the bread out after a few minutes and presents it to the judges. "It is ready. This is our company's curry."
"But where is the curry?" the royal chef asks.
"Wait a moment. This is..." Druitt begins, slicing open the bread. Curry oozes out. "W-What?! The curry from inside..."
"What?" Agni murmurs in surprise.
I smile, pride blooming in my chest. You never, ever underestimate Sebastian Michaelis.
"This is the curry that our company proudly presents to you. It has a name...the curry-donut!" Sebastian announces.
The crowd erupts. Judges lean in.
"What in the name of...I have never seen that kind of curry before!" Soma gasps.
"That's because it's one of a kind," I say, lips quirking upward.
The royal chef bites in—and his eyes go wide. "It explodes in the mouth! This is delicious! The deep-fried crispy exterior and soft interior's texture combined with that sticky curry create several levels of heavenly taste!"
"The most fantastic part is the curry filling used inside! Ingenious and fragrant, it is all blended together as if it were the very meaning of 'delicious.' It blossoms the moment it is sliced open!" another judge declares. "In addition, the chunks of chicken in the curry were sizable. This really is a perfect creation..."
Then Druitt again. Why is he like this?
He starts moaning and monologuing again. I glare, repulsed.
"A young girl at the ball that makes me want to love her tenderly. The mischievous mockingbird, singing like a child in the daytime. But in the evening, you show your true colors. The heartstring-pulling smile behind a mask, a young girl, alone...I really want to hold you tightly in my arms!" he coos, sparkles flying. "Fresh innovation and undoubted quality. This really is the Funtom company's special revolutionary curry!"
"I thank you for your praise," Sebastian replies, offering a subtle bow.
I glance at Ciel. He looks like someone walked over his grave. I knew Druitt was referencing the ball where Ciel got kidnapped. His shudder confirms it.
Some time passes, and the contestants begin preparing more curry to serve the audience. Smart move. I'm starving.
The announcer returns, grinning. "And now's the time you all have been waiting for! Taste-testing time! Please taste whichever curries you want!"
The servants charge the buffet like starving wolves.
"Do you want anything?" I ask Ciel.
He hesitates, then shakes his head. "I think I will be fine. So, no thanks."
"Suit yourself."
I dive into the crowd, dodging limbs and elbows like I'm in a rugby match. I somehow manage to snag both Agni's and Sebastian's dishes without getting mauled.
At a nearby table, I set the plates down and dig into Agni's first. The red curry melts in my mouth. A moan slips out before I can stop it—this is some next-level stuff. A true foodgasm. Pinterest had it right.
I sample every curry on the plate. Each has its own level of heat and balance. It's phenomenal. Restaurant-tier luxury food. The lobster's a bit much for me though—I'm not big on seafood.
Then comes Sebastian's. I pick up the curry bread like a hamburger and take a bite.
Holy shit. The curry hits like a flavor bomb—rich, savory, and perfectly balanced with the fried crust. Better than any store-bought Japanese curry bread I assume.
I hum with delight, cheeks flushing. It's so good. And it tastes...familiar. Like something tailored for a wider crowd. It reminds me of the difference between Mexican food and Tex-Mex—Agni's is traditional, authentic. Sebastian's is a fusion. It also just reminds me of the chocolate cake he makes for me. All in all, it brings nostalgia to me.
"You seem to be in deep thought, my lady."
I jump in place, heart lurching. I hadn't noticed Sebastian approach—he's just there, right beside me. My ears thrum with my pulse as I glare at him, flustered. "You just scare me because you find it funny, don't you?"
He only shrugs, amusement glinting plainly in his eyes.
With a soft huff, I set the bread back down on the plate. "I have to say, I commend you on your genius plan."
He smirks, pleased. "Oh? Keep going."
"It's very...marketable, I suppose is one way to say it."
"Please, if a Phantomhive butler cannot do this much—"
"...then what kind of butler would you be," I finish for him, a small laugh escaping before I can stop it.
"Was the curry to your liking?" he asks, voice calm.
"Mhm. I liked both of them very much."
He gives a small nod. "Yes, I see Agni's right hand of God does have its influence after all."
"Did you see anything odd while he was using it?"
His gaze lowers to the dish on the table, expression sharpening slightly. "Odd...you say?"
"Yes, odd." I edge closer, my voice dipping. "I mean, I'm not sure, but does he really possess such a religious ability? He's only human after all."
He considers this, eyes distant with thought. "I do think there is something in him that no normal human can sustain. Something holy through his own belief. He is special in his own way."
I hum softly, more to myself. "How peculiar...I never knew religion to this extent."
"Ah, that is right. You do not believe in a god."
I glance at him, tone firmer now. "No, I didn't. However...things are changing, it would seem."
A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. "Do not believe in any God. They are all fools."
"Then what does that make demons?"
He goes still. His eyes glint with that electric, supernatural light. "Dark and full of sins."
"Like humans?"
That catches him off guard. His eyes widen. A tremor runs through his shoulders as he brings a hand to his mouth, stifling a laugh. He chuckles under his breath, clearly entertained. "Ah, that's right...but we are much worse than an ordinary human. We lurk in the dark and feed on the weak souls of humans."
"Am I weak?"
The humor drops instantly. He goes rigid, eyes locking with mine, unblinking.
"All humans are weak."
"Because we have emotions that can destroy us? Even thoughts that can and will, over time?"
"Those are some, yes."
I lower my gaze to my hands, curling them slightly. "I see."
The silence stretches. It isn't awkward...more like heavy, thick with unspoken thoughts. Questions hang in the air between us—answers, too—but neither of us reaches for them. After a beat, he turns and walks back to the stage.
I watch him go, mind swimming. These conversations—quiet but revealing—they feel like puzzle pieces. I should file this away. I've never felt this curious about someone before.
Eventually, I return to my brother's side, still mulling it all over. This world is so different from the one I knew. That I managed to survive it still surprises me.
"What did you and Sebastian speak about?"
I look down. Ciel's expression is sharp, eyes narrowed. "Nothing of importance."
"Liar. Tell me the truth."
I click my tongue. "It's nothing to concern yourself with."
He scowls. "If anything, it concerns everything about me! You don't think I notice how you are all buddy-buddy with him?" he hisses under his breath.
I flinch, caught off guard. I never imagined he'd been watching that closely. "It's not what you think."
"I don't have to think. I already know just from watching you both interact over the years."
"Oh yeah? Then tell me. How do we act, huh?"
Without hesitation, he grabs my dress and yanks me down to his level, eyes burning. "Dare I say friendly—or even frenemies."
My eyes widen. His face is inches from mine, anger barely restrained. But he's...not wrong. "So what?"
A vein twitches in his temple. "So what? So what?! You shouldn't even have that kind of connection with that—that...thing," he spits, venom in his whisper. "You have no idea how vile he is. He's a demon for crying out loud. How idiotic are you?!" His voice is low, furious. "He hides underneath that cocky attitude—you can easily miss it."
My thoughts seize up. I can't argue. Ciel is right on every front. So why—why do I keep seeking Sebastian out?
I should know better.
Normally, I do know better.
So why?
Something about him...it unsettles me. Stirs something inside me. I can't explain it. It's not logic, it's not reason—it's a feeling. A strange awareness that prickles beneath my skin. Almost like... a spell. That thought alone makes my heart leap in my chest.
I like him. A lot more than I'm ready to admit.
And that feeling—on the back of my neck—whenever he's near...
"I'm sorry," I whisper to Ciel, voice catching. My eyes sting. "I don't know why either."
His expression softens with surprise. Then he exhales and looks away. "Whatever. Just try to fix it. It's not normal under any means."
"I-I will try..."
He lets go of my dress just as the announcer returns to the stage. I straighten up, brushing down my skirt. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Lau watching me with mild curiosity—he's clearly wondering what we were talking about.
But I force myself to face forward.
Sebastian is already looking at us.
His eyes are cold, narrow. They cut through me like blades.
I gulp. He must've heard everything.
I glue my gaze to the stage, pretending I'm focused on the announcer as he tries to quiet the noise around us.
I want air. I need to breathe—but I can't leave.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. After much discussion, the winner of this curry show is..." the announcer begins, lifting the award. "Harold West and Funtom Company! A tie!"
Suddenly, a whip lashes through the air, wrapping around the trophy and yanking it away. It flies into the hands of a man dressed head-to-toe in white.
I blink. I feel like I've seen him before.
"Huh?"
"Please wait," the man says firmly.
"The victor..."
The door slams open. A horse thunders in, its rider cloaked in lavish garments and wearing sunglasses—a woman, older, and unmistakable.
"Who's the funky gran?" Bard asks, baffled.
"That is..." Lau murmurs, finger to his chin.
The horse slows beside us, the rider smiling. I recognize her immediately.
"Your Majesty! Why have you come here?" Ciel blurts out in shock.
"Hello, everyone." Queen Victoria greets gently.
The room erupts into chaos.
The queen trots down the aisle and without hesitation tramples the man in white. I wince instinctively. He rises, trembling.
"I am done talking. But it seems the queen has something to say."
"This curry show was indeed exciting," she declares as he helps her down from the saddle. "The fragrance permeating throughout the entire room reminds me of when I had curry with Albert on White Island." Her voice falters, and suddenly she crumples to the floor. "Oh, Albeeeerrrttt...I want to eat this curry with you also." she cries into the air.
The man in white—her guard, I assume—tries to console her.
"Her Majesty seems quite the complex character," Lau comments under his breath, sweatdropping.
"A bit dramatic, I would say..." I mumble beside him.
"Don't talk like that." Ciel warns, wearing the same sweatdrop expression.
"Shut up. You were thinking the same."
"Quiet, you. I was not."
She regains her composure slowly, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief her guard hands her. "As I have received an invitation to be a judge in this contest, I have one vote, don't I?" she asks the room. "I have chosen..."
A hush falls. She walks toward the stage, toward Agni and Sebastian. Then she pivots, stepping directly up to Sebastian, and smiles.
"Funtom Company's butler, Sebastian. This is for you."
She hands him the trophy.
It's rare to see Sebastian look surprised—but now, he is.
West bursts out of the crowd, clearly worked up. "Wh-Why?!" he demands of the queen. "How can the curry we made lose to a doughnut stuffed with curry?!"
The queen gives him a lingering look, then gestures toward the crowd. "Please look over there."
West turns his head—and freezes. The surprise on his face says it all.
"Do you see?" she continues. "Funtom's curry requires no utensils and can be consumed by anyone. Yes, that's right—this is a method that takes even children into account." Her gaze sweeps over the fair, serene and pleased. "Everyone is happy—the rich, the poor, the adults, the children. Everyone is equal. This kind of idea is essential for Great Britain as it heads into a new century. I highly approve of the Funtom Company's accounting for our future—the children. Thus, the victor is the Funtom Company!"
The crowd erupts into cheers.
I let out a low whistle. "That was one hell of a speech. Not exactly true though."
"What do you mean?" Ciel asks.
I chuckle, brushing it off. "Don't worry about it."
West drops to his knees, utterly defeated. I bite back a laugh, enjoying the sight.
"Nice one, Sebastian!" Finnian shouts, elated.
"This is typical of Sebastian!" Bard echoes, pumping a fist.
"You should come and eat too, young master, my lady!" Mey-Rin calls out, arms overflowing with curry bread.
"I'll have some!"
She hands me one and I tear into it gladly. "It's yummy. Ciel, try a bite."
I hold it out to him, and he waves it off. "No thank you."
I pout, pushing it closer. "Pleaseeeee."
He sighs and takes it. "Fine. Stop bugging me."
I grin. "See? That wasn't so hard."
"Shut up. You seem to have forgotten something."
I blink. "What?"
"That bet. Have fun with Sebastian and the servants tomorrow." he says with a smug smirk.
A cold dread slides down my spine. "C-Can we take it back?"
"No."
"Ah, fuck…"
"Language."
"…I'm gonna punch you."
"I'd like to see you try."
Before I can respond, a young Indian girl rushes toward West. "My lord!"
Everyone turns. My brows furrow. "Is that—?"
"Meena!?" Soma shouts.
"Eh?" Meena slows, eyes locking on Soma.
"Prince…Soma?"
"I finally found you!" he cries, voice breaking as he runs to her. He wraps his arms around her tightly. "Meena! I've been looking for you for so long! You must've been so scared when you were kidnapped to England—I finally…finally found you."
He pulls back to look her in the eyes.
"Prince…" she murmurs.
"You don't have to worry anymore. Let's go home together."
There's a long pause—then her expression twists into something cold and furious.
"Are you some kind of idiot?" she snaps.
My eyes widen at the sudden shift.
"Eh?" Soma's voice is faint, stunned.
"Who the hell do you think you are, coming all this way just to get in people's way?!" she yells. "Come home with you? Don't make me laugh! Who'd want to return to a place like that?!"
Damn…she's kind of a bitch.
Agni stumbles, collapsing to the floor, visibly stricken.
Sebastian glances down at him, but his attention shifts quickly to Meena. "You…You were concealing this, weren't you?"
"Sorry for not wanting to live my whole life bound by my social class!" Meena shoots back. "I even took great pains to sneak out of India!"
"Then…you wanted…with West…" Soma trails off, trying to make sense of it.
"That's right. Even a child could understand which is better—being an ordinary cook or a rich wife. And I'm sick of looking after such a selfish master!"
Oof. That one hit hard. But maybe…maybe this is exactly what Soma needs—to shatter the bubble he's lived in.
Silence falls thick over the crowd.
Then I hear it: soft, rhythmic droplets. I turn to Soma. He's smiling.
But it isn't joy. It's soft, sad, and strangely peaceful. My chest aches just watching him.
"Sorry," he says. "We were that close, and I didn't understand one bit of Meena's feelings. I'm sorry for never thinking about being a bother and chasing you all the way to England. And…thanks for everything up until now."
He bows his head with that same melancholy smile, then turns and walks toward Sebastian on the stage.
"Up until now, I've always blamed other people. Being alone in the palace was my mother and father's fault. Meena disappearing was West's fault. But I was wrong."
He passes Sebastian slowly, continuing as if to himself.
"Even though I was gnawing at my parents' ankles, I did nothing but complain. There's no one who'd love a brat like that."
He kneels beside Agni, who still trembles. My eyes sting when I see bloodied tears splatter on the floor.
"But you stayed by my side. Even when we were separated…will you stay by my side and still be my Khanasama? I've given you nothing but trouble until now."
Agni begins to cry—real tears this time—and takes Soma's hand with both of his. "Jo Ajha." he whispers.
I sniffle, blinking away tears. Ugh, crying again. Typical me.
"It seems like somehow everything's ended up for the best, wouldn't you say?"
Ciel and I glance to our side. Queen Victoria stands beside us, smiling gently with her hands clasped in prayer. Her guard waits behind her.
"Isn't that good, boy?"
I bite back a laugh as the servants chorus, "Boy?!"
Ciel flushes deep red. "Your Majesty, I've humbly asked you to stop referring to me that way…"
I rest a hand on his shoulder with a sly smile. "Why? I think it's cute…"
He bats my hand away, now fully red. "It is not!"
"Is that so?" Victoria tilts her head. "But you'll always be that cute little boy to me."
I can't help it—I snort and double over in laughter until I feel a sudden kick to my leg. I bite my lip to avoid yelping. That little brat! That hurt!
Ciel coughs, collecting himself. "Your Majesty, why did you come all the way out here today?"
"I was at St. Sophia University's choir concert. But when I heard your company was at the curry fair, I just had to come. You never visit, after all."
"Someone like me shouldn't be around Your Majesty very often," he replies, voice low.
"Please don't say such things. You're so young, but you already perform your duty so seriously—just like your father, Vincent."
My chest softens at the name. He really is like Vincent…but different too. Of course. He's his own person. But if Vincent could see him now—God, he'd be proud.
Victoria's voice drifts wistfully. "It's been such a long time since I came to the Crystal Palace. It feels like yesterday Albert and I were here for ceremonies…"
Then she drops to her knees in a dramatic wail. "Alberrrrrtttt! I wish you were here today too!"
Oh, there it is.
She sniffs and recovers quickly. "Oh dear, I must be going. I'll have the Grand Chamberlain's office send you the authorization documents for the royal warrant."
She mounts her horse with the guard's help, offers us a parting smile, and rides off.
"She's always the same," Ciel mutters.
"You're right."
"Ciel!" Soma calls out behind us. "Thank you for winning. You have my gratitude."
Ciel tips his hat back on. "It really wasn't for you. It was for my own sake. But your babysitter coming back was a case of killing two birds with one stone."
"If I never came to England, I probably wouldn't have learned all sorts of truths. If I never met Ciel, I'd've stayed selfish and ignorant of the ways of the world."
He stands tall, bright and earnest.
"From now on, I want to try and learn all sorts of things. And someday, I'll become a great man who won't lose to anyone—and show you!"
We all stare. My heart swells. He's…really changing. Becoming someone strong.
"Soma!" I beam. "I hope everything turns out good for you someday!"
He flushes, and I can't help myself—I drag him into a bear hug.
"L-Lady Rina…can't…breathe!"
I laugh and let him go. "Oops."
"How bustling." Sebastian comments, approaching with his usual smooth smile.
"Mr. Sebastian!" the servants cheer.
Bard hooks an arm around his shoulders. "Congratulations! You did it! Today's our victory celebration!"
Finnian grabs the trophy and raises it high. Bard quickly retreats. "Don't drop it!"
"As Finny said, good job, Sebastian!" I grin.
Before he can reply, Agni steps forward and bows low. "Mr. Sebastian…I wonder how I should apologize for everything."
I go quiet, watching Agni closely. He seems truly humbled.
Sebastian kneels down, extending a hand. "Mr. Agni, there is no need for that kind of thing. Please raise your head."
Agni straightens, glancing at Soma with affection. "At first I regretted accompanying the prince to England. But now, I think it is a very good thing."
I drift closer, drawn by his sincerity.
"We both have learned a lot from you all. I feel I must thank you somehow."
They both rise, and Sebastian gives him a rare, softer version of his smile—closed eyes, almost gentle.
"You have been apologizing from the beginning. I fought for my reasons, and you fought for yours. That's all there is to it. There is no need to thank me. The Goddess of Kali you believe in and Shiva both realized their faults through mutual pain—just as you two are doing now."
Agni flushes and places his hands together in prayer.
Sebastian talking kindly about a god? Color me surprised.
"The sun is setting," I murmur, eyes drawn to the sky above, a rich orange behind glass. "Shall we go home?"
They follow my gaze. The fair is nearly empty now, just workers cleaning up in the background.
We group up and begin heading out together.
I fall into step beside Agni. "To have my story from my country explained by an Englishman…It's kind of embarrassing," he chuckles, rubbing his head.
"And as they say, 'no pain, no gain.' No matter where or when, it's the same. It has nothing to do with England or India…" Sebastian replies.
We pause, and he takes two more steps, then turns. The sun behind him casts a glow—almost like a halo. Amusing, considering.
"…Humanity, that is."
How many times can I be struck with awe in one day? Because this…this is another one.
We step outside into the wind. The sky is painted with hues of gold and violet.
"That's right…" Agni says softly. "The evening sun as seen from the banks of the Ganges…and the evening sun seen in England. It has the same beauty."
Our eyes lift to the sky. The moon begins to rise, a pale disc touching the light.
"It's also a place where the light and dark touch," I whisper, "and do not swallow each other for a brief time."
I hear the shuffle of clothes next, along with a muffled sniffle. I glance over and find Soma clinging to my brother like his life depends on it. The sight makes me giggle, and I let my arm fall back to my side.
"W-What?!" Ciel sputters, absolutely blindsided.
Then Soma suddenly lets out a soul-shattering wail. "WAAAAAAHHHH! Me…Meenaaa!" Tears pour down his cheeks with no sign of stopping.
The servants swarm toward them, voices raised in overlapping surprise and laughter. Despite the chaos, they're smiling.
The moment floods my chest with warmth.
"I'm glad you guys came to England," I say, soft but sincere.
Agni turns toward me, brows lifting with pleasant surprise. "I am happy we did too."
"Things don't feel so stale anymore." I admit.
He tilts his head. "How do you mean?"
I give him a sideways smile. "Just…a little livelier, I should say."
"I see. Both the prince and I were able to make good friends."
"Friends?" I echo, tilting my head.
"Friends…is it?" Sebastian muses beside me. I'm standing between them, and I glance over just as he adds, "That's the first time anyone has said that to me."
I gape at him, jabbing a finger at my chest. "What am I then?! I thought we were friends?"
He scoffs and turns away with a faint snort.
Offended, I pout and wrap both arms around Agni's, hugging it dramatically. "Fine. Agni's a better friend anyway."
Agni freezes beside me, clearly flustered. His posture stiffens as if unsure whether to laugh or panic.
Sebastian's eyes flick toward me. He reaches out and tugs my other arm, peeling me off Agni with mild force. "Stop acting like a child."
I stick my tongue out at him. "Stop acting like a sour grandpa, then."
He shoots me a sharp glare, but I just laugh it off and throw my arms around both of their shoulders, pulling them in for a side hug. "Nah, we can all be friends together." I say with a grin.
"I would like that very much, Lady Rina," Agni replies, warm as ever.
"Mhm! Me too!"
"Rina," someone calls, flat and clipped. I turn and see my brother staring at me with that look. The one that says I've crossed a line.
I wince, release the two men, and shuffle over to him. "What?"
"Did our discussion mean nothing?"
I look away, guilt flickering through my chest. "I said I'd try. But it's going to be hard."
He exhales sharply. "Whatever."
I shift, eyes catching something white poking out of his pocket. Curious, I reach out and tug it free. "A letter?" I ask, brow furrowing.
He blinks and snatches it from my hand. "This is…"
"When did?!" Ciel gasps, trying to trace the moment. Then— "Ah! The queen's servant put it there earlier. Why didn't you tell me?!" His irritation boils over as he turns on Sebastian.
"You didn't ask." Sebastian answers simply.
"Tch." Ciel's jaw twitches with annoyance. He rips open the letter, revealing three slips tucked inside. "A ticket?"
"Whatever for?" I ask aloud, tilting my head.
"Couldn't it be an early Christmas present? For a little boy." Sebastian says with a faint smirk.
I snort. "Cute little boy, you mean."
"I'll kill you both," Ciel mutters, his eyes burning with menace. "I'm tired. I want to go home and have some tea."
He shoves the letter into Sebastian's hand, who gives a polite bow. "Understood. I shall prepare some Assam tea. Dinner will be the amazing curry prepared by my own hands."
"Stop joking around!" Ciel snaps as we start walking away together, Sebastian falling into step.
"What kind of tickets are they anyway, Sebastian?" I ask, glancing over.
He opens the letter and slides the tickets out between his gloved fingers. "Noah's Ark Circus."
"Eh? A circus? What on Earth could be happening there?"
"According to the queen," Ciel mutters with a sigh, "something bad."