Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There's so much about this world I don't understand—religion, Earth, space, and the infinite possibilities beyond our reach. But nothing prepared me for childbirth. Specifically, childbirth in 1885—though I doubt the process has changed much in centuries.

I stand frozen beside my employer's wife, Rachel Phantomhive, gripped by a twisted awe. Handmaids rush back and forth, carrying bowls of bloody water. As the family maid, Rachel asked me to be here with her.

She trusts me the most.

The scene spins around me like a storm I can't fully grasp. The midwife sits between Rachel's legs, held in stirrups recently fashioned by her assistant. Rachel screams, fighting through fierce contractions. Her skin is pale, flushed with red, glistening with sweat.

She struggles to push. I take her hand and smile.

"You got this, my lady! We're going to get this precious baby out!" I cheer her on.

Her fingers squeeze mine so hard it shakes my arm. I wince.

"Don't act so happy! This is truly—!" she cuts off with another scream.

I grab a damp washcloth and pat her forehead gently.

Suddenly, the midwife gasps, eyes bright with urgency. "The head is crowning, Lady Phantomhive! Please, push!"

I beam, excitement bubbling up. I glance at Rachel with a wider smile.

"Your baby is almost here! You just gotta fight a little longer!"

Rachel groans, exhaustion weighing heavy after eight hours of labor. She shudders deeply, then nods with fierce determination. She pushes, screaming through it. Sweat trickles down her temple—I wipe it away while she clamps down hard on my other hand, cutting off circulation.

"Keep pushing!" the midwife urges, eagerness clear in her voice.

Rachel collapses against the bed, panting hard. But by some miracle, her body moves on autopilot. She pushes again with a guttural shout that echoes deep in her chest.

I'm suddenly overwhelmed by how incredible women are.

My heart pounds as I watch the miracle unfold. The midwife announces the head has emerged. Two more pushes, and the baby slips out.

Seconds later, cries fill the air—a sharp, piercing wail.

Morbid fascination takes hold as I stare at the infant, covered in a white, slippery substance and blood. Rachel's grip slackens in mine. She exhales deeply, like a heavy weight lifts from her shoulders.

The midwife takes the baby, checking its tiny body. Her assistant moves forward, ready to clamp the cord. The infant continues crying, loud and insistent. I feel drawn to the raw miracle of life.

"It's a healthy baby boy!" the midwife declares joyfully to Rachel.

Rachel's body relaxes further. Once the baby's cleaned and wrapped in a swaddle, the midwife moves to Rachel's side. Her arms stretch out, ready to hold her son.

"He's so beautiful." Rachel sniffles and presses a tender kiss to his head.

I smile at the heartwarming sight.

"He is, my lady. And dare I say, he looks like Lord Phantomhive." I chuckle as the baby hiccups in her arms.

I eye the blue hair with amusement. Anyone would know that was a Phantomhive.

Rachel giggles softly, entertained by my comment. But then her laughter twists into a groan of pain. I tense. The midwife exchanges a worried look with me.

"Lady Phantomhive, what is the matter?" the midwife asks.

"The contractions…" Rachel gasps, face paling. "...they aren't done?"

Panic flashes in the midwife's eyes. She quickly moves back between Rachel's legs and inspects her. I bite my lip, anxiety rising.

"There's—!" the midwife gasps, shocked. She looks up and meets Rachel's eyes. "My lady, brace yourself. You're having twins!"

My jaw drops. No way.

"Twins?!" Rachel screams, horror in her voice. "I can't…not again!"

I wince at her tone. I don't blame her for feeling overwhelmed.

"My lady, let me hold the little lord while you concentrate." I offer softly, smiling. "I promise to keep him safe while you deliver."

Rachel hesitates, but another contraction hits and she screams, shoving her son into my arms. The baby cries at the sound of her pain. I cradle him carefully, as the midwife's assistant showed me.

I rock him gently, trying to soothe his sharp cries. Rachel's screams only grow louder.

Soon, the next baby arrives. Hearing his brother cry, he cries too—a chain reaction I'm sure will last forever.

The midwife hands the smaller, premature infant to her assistant.

"It's another boy!" the midwife cheers, wiping sweat from her brow.

Rachel exhales a heavy sigh, utterly spent, and collapses into the bed. She's clearly out of it.

I smile, imagining two rambunctious twin boys running wild through the manor.

Today is truly glorious.

Rachel is too exhausted to hold them long, but she tries. The midwife urges her to feed them soon. Out of respect, I look away as Rachel breastfeeds, and instead help the maids clean the room.

I'm the first out the door when someone grabs my shoulders. It's Vincent.

His disheveled appearance tells me he's been waiting outside for a long time.

"Rina!" he breathes like a prayer. "How did it go?! Is everyone okay? The baby—Rachel—tell me everything?!"

I wince at his loud urgency. "It went really well! You have two new healthy children." I beam.

He nods, relieved, then does a double-take.

"Wait…two?!" he shouts.

"I won't spoil the genders," I tease. "That's for my lady to share." I giggle at his reaction.

"Nooo." Vincent whines childishly. "Please tell me—please! You know I'm not allowed in there!"

I've never seen this man so stressed. He looks like a wreck. I suppose I'd be the same if I heard my wife was in labor.

"I'd need my lady's permission." I answer with a small smile.

He slumps against the wall and lets go of me, sighing dramatically. "You're cruel to your lord." He smirks. "Are they…cute?"

I blush, picturing their wrinkled heads full of hair. "Absolutely adorable. Both have your hair color."

"They have the Phantomhive charm, hm? How lovely."

"Right. We can call it charm." I snicker.

He scowls. "Let you ruin something nice—how typical." he tsks.

I roll my eyes but grin. "I'm so happy right now. I don't know if my heart can take it."

His eyes widen then soften.

"Go get some rest. You deserve it."

"But—"

He cuts me off with a pat on the head.

"Thank you for watching over my wife."

I blush, touched. I nod quietly as he sends me off to rest.

My heart has never felt so light and full since arriving here.

I didn't know it yet, but this would be the last time peace felt this simple.

0o0o0o0o

Spring in the countryside smells like linen and warm soil. I wring out the cloth in my hands, my fingers red from the cold water, and clip it to the line overhead. Being a maid-slash-nanny isn't exactly glamorous, but it pays. And here, among these strange, wealthy Victorians, I have something like a family—maybe even a home.

At least, that's what I tell myself on the good days.

The truth is, I came here from the future.

Only Vincent knows that. I was just a thirteen-year-old trying to figure out what the hell was happening. I suppose I'm lucky I begged Vincent nearly every time I saw him to take me in.

At first, I was reluctant; living with a strange man wasn't exactly ideal. But Undertaker told me to talk to him. And here I am—living at Phantomhive manor as a maid.

I have no idea how I ended up in the past. It was traumatic. I chuckle softly at the memory. It's not really funny per se, but it's weird I don't remember much. As a thirteen-year-old street urchin in London, I didn't have much going for me. Still...

Vincent and Rachel thought I was the strangest child to come through those doors.

Rachel wanted children badly, but she and Vincent struggled. She didn't like the idea of me becoming a maid—considering my status—but she seems to have some compassion for a kid from the streets.
And speaking of children, after two years of service, she finally had her own. But after the birth, she developed postpartum symptoms. Her anxiety and restless emotions never fully go away, even after five years.

She's treated me a bit coldly since then. It's worse around her children—even if it's my job. But that's nobles for you, I suppose. Vincent's a different person entirely.

He treats me like a daughter, discreetly.

Still, even he can be cold in ways I've never seen when it comes to his own kids. Even to me at times.

He's become my father figure.

Not that I'd ever say that out loud.

I never had a father. My mom got knocked up by some deadbeat man at a bar—totally unexpected. It took a while for her to accept me, but as I grew, so did her maternal side.

She became the best mom I could ask for yet the reason my childhood felt so dark.

Smiling sadly to myself, I hang the last sheet on the line and step back. I wish I had a picture of her. I miss her so much. I miss the world I came from—especially the technology, and above all, the plumbing system.

Passing a window, movement catches my eye—Ciel running outside with Sebastian, the dog.

I smile down at the scene, wondering where the other twin is hiding.

I have a great relationship with the twin brothers; they both look up to me as their big sister. I love those cuties so much.

I head toward Fenian's room, wondering if he's in there. This mansion's huge. I knock softly to announce myself.

"Feni?" I ask.

There's some scuffling inside. "It's open!" he calls.

I crack the door and peek in. "There you are," I say as I step inside and close the door behind me. "What's up, sport?"

He scowls at the nickname but it fades quickly into a bright smile. "Rina!" he shouts, scrambling to hug my legs with his tiny arms.

I laugh and pat his head gently. "Whoa there, why so excited?"

"I'm always happy to see you!" he says.

Shaking my head, amused, I bend down and scoop him up, holding him at my hip. He wraps his scrawny arms around my neck, grinning.

"You just saw me this morning."

"Doesn't mean I didn't miss you." he pouts.

I laugh again at that. "You're so cute, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know," he replies with a small blush. "Are you done with your chores?"

Mentally ticking off my day's tasks, I hum. "I believe so. Why?"

"Can we play? Please!" Fenian pleads, eyes wide and hopeful.

I smirk, already knowing the answer. "Mmm. I don't know~" I sing-song teasingly, pretending to weigh it. "It might cost you."

He stares anxiously. "L-Like what?"

"That I—" I begin, then suddenly tickle his stomach. He bursts into giggles. "…get to tickle you!"

He laughs hard as I toss him onto the bed, where he lands face-first with an "oof." He scrambles to escape my fingers. "Not so fast, squirt!" I tease, diving after him.

I grab his leg just as he tries to slip away and tickle his stomach. He laughs, gasping between breaths. "S-Stop!" he stutters, still smiling.

"Not till you admit defeat!" I declare and go for his armpits.

He squirms, squealing when I hit a particularly sensitive spot. "O-Okay. I g-give up." He surrenders breathily.

I stop, giggling, and lie down beside him. The only sound is his steady breaths. I know our grins match perfectly. Just as I relax, he attacks my side with his fingers, laughing.

I shriek and try to scramble off the bed, but he tugs weakly on the hem of my maid dress. I pretend to be pulled back with a dramatic yelp. "Somebody save me! I'm being attacked!" I shout, laughing.

Fenian grins with mock menace. "Whoever saves you has to get through me first!"

Our laughter is cut short by a clearing of a throat. "What in the…" Rachel steps into the room, frowning.

I blush, caught, and Fenian's fingers still. We both look at his mother. She sighs, sharp. "Really? Don't you have chores instead of playing with my son?"

I wince, already hearing the scolding in my head. Rachel doesn't like me much anymore.

Honestly, I think she's a little jealous. She was kind to me once, and I know she loves her children—but she doesn't share the relationship I have with them. I bonded better with Feni than with Ciel, though Ciel still looks up to me and likes to be near me. He mostly sticks to his father.

I stand, reading the glare that says she wants me out. "I'll see you later, Feni!" I wave with a sad smile.

He pouts but quickly scowls. "No! I want you to stay!"

Rachel's eyes widen in surprise. "Fenian…"

I look at him, astonished. "Fenian, we'll play later."

He shakes his head stubbornly. "No! I want to—now!" He glares at his mother.

"Listen here—" I cut off Rachel before she can scold him.

"Fenian," I crouch to his eye level, seeing tears building. "You gotta listen to your mother, okay? I pinky promise we'll play tonight—with your brother too." I hold out my pinky, smiling.

He frowns but reluctantly links his pinky to mine. "Fine. You better not be lying."

I smile, reassuring. "I never break pinky promises." I swear.

He smiles back, caught by my earnestness.

We wrap our pinkies and chant, "Pinky swear made, whoever breaks their promise has to swallow a thousand needles~" We shake our clasped pinkies with big grins. "Sealed with a kiss..." we raise thumbs and press them together.

Giggling like kids, I let go, waving reluctantly.

Rachel steps aside, avoiding my eyes, treating me like just another servant. I frown and sigh, drained by her presence.

I head to the kitchen for a snack. After winding through endless halls and stairs, I arrive to the familiar clatter of chefs prepping dinner. The smell makes my stomach growl. Hopefully there'll be leftovers.

Smirking, I grab a green apple from a bowl on a worker's table and slip outside.

I greet some workers with polite hellos as I head to the backyard, wondering if Ciel's still out with Sebastian.

I settle on the steps leading to the pavement and grass beyond. The day is beautiful. I take a deep breath, the breeze brushing my face.

One nice thing about the eighteenth century? No pollution.

I chomp slowly on the apple, lost in thought about life. Then school pops into my mind—the last thing I usually think of.

I miss it too. The people. The learning. I miss getting an education.

I planned to go to college someday. Not sure what to study, but I wanted a future. Seems like that chance is gone here.

Since women are practically suppressed, I think miserably, grumbling under my breath.

I don't hear footsteps approaching.

"Penny for your thoughts?" a voice says beside me.

I turn left to see Vincent smiling, one eyebrow raised.

"Ah, hey Vincent," I greet casually.

I never call him by his title. It sounds weird. He doesn't seem to mind—unless others are around.

"How are you on this fine day?" he asks, sitting beside me.

I smile warmly. "Mmm. Not so bad. Definitely could be worse."

"That's good. What were you thinking about earlier? You looked like you were scowling at the ground." He laughs lightly, gazing toward the bordering forest.

I let out a small chuckle. "I was thinking about school." I admit, smirking.

He blinks rapidly, surprised. "Oh, right. I forgot you were going to, what was it? A public school?"

I nod, amused. "Yep, that's it."

"The future is very different from now." he says, awe in his voice.

"A total difference! You have no idea—no matter how much I tell you." I get a bit loud, thinking of all the contrasts. "Honestly, some things here feel really weird."

He focuses on me, eyebrows raised. "Like what?"

I tap my chin, thinking. "In the future, men and women are mostly seen as equals." I say, "It shows how long it takes for humans to realize—humans are humans, no matter their anatomy."

He tilts his head, confused. "Many would argue with you."

I laugh. "Yeah, but not you, Vincent." I tease lightly. "Though sometimes—"

A tick mark appears on his forehead. He scowls playfully. "You know I could kick you—"

"No! Please, I need you!" I interrupt dramatically, though I know he's joking.

He laughs, bumping shoulders with mine. "Joking."

I shake my head, amused, as Ciel appears out of nowhere.

Sebastian follows him, and both spot us. Ciel smiles and runs over. "Father! Sis!"

He's huffing from the run. Sebastian's at his side, the dog wagging his tail and approaching me.

"Hey, kiddo!" I say, scratching Sebastian's ears.

Vincent nods at his son warmly. "What are you up to, Ciel?"

"Playing with Sebastian. It's nice out," Ciel says, still smiling.

"Ciel, want to play with your brother and me tonight?" I ask.

He nods excitedly. "Of course!"

"Sounds like a plan."

Vincent stands, smiling at us both. "I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

Ciel and I watch Vincent walk back inside.

"Let's get you cleaned up, Ciel. It's almost dinner time." I offer, stretching.

"Ugh, fine." he complains, climbing stairs.

I offer my hand; he takes it gladly. We leave Sebastian outside in the sun. I toss the apple core in the trash on the way in.

We head to the bathroom. I duck out briefly to fill buckets with steaming water—heavy as hell.

Huffing, I climb the stairs and enter Ciel's room. The bathroom door is open; Ciel waits by the tub with a patient smile.

I set down the buckets, pouring the water in.

"I'll grab you some clothes." I say, heading out.

I hear him getting into the water. I fetch a clean outfit and lay it on his bed. Returning with the rag I brought, I find Ciel waiting, already in the tub, wearing a slight pout.

"What's wrong, kid?" I ask, worried it's too cold.

He pouts deeper and squirms. "I don't like baths."

I sweatdrop and shake my head. "Aw, come on. They're not that bad."

I grab the soap used for hair and body. It's an adjustment—I keep wondering where my other bottles are.

His hair is soaked; I place a hand on his forehead to keep soap from his eyes.

I scrub his hair with my nails, coconut scent filling the air. He relaxes instantly, humming.

Both brothers have a weakness for this, and it amuses me endlessly.

"You're lucky, you know that?" I say with a smile.

He peeks one eye open. "What do you mean, sis?"

"It must be nice not having to do anything." I complain with a pout.

He tilts his head. "I don't get it."

I laugh softly. "Nothing, Ciel. Nothing."

We're quiet for a moment. I rinse his hair with a bowl nearby, then lather the rag with soap and start scrubbing his body.

Silence hangs, and I can't think of anything to say.

"Rina?" he calls out suddenly.

"Yeah?"

He shifts. "What did you do before you came here?"

I freeze, stop scrubbing. "What makes you ask that?"

Ciel looks at me with innocent eyes. "I heard you talking to Father, but I got confused."

My eyes widen. I gulp, continuing to scrub. "Forget about it, Ciel. Don't tell anyone you heard that, okay?"

He stiffens under my hands but nods earnestly. "Okay. I won't."

"It'll be our little secret." I say, smiling to ease the tension.

He smiles back and relaxes.

"I think I'm done washing you. Stand up and unplug the drain, will you?" I ask, grabbing a tan towel.

He does as I say, stepping out carefully. I rub the towel through his hair, messing it up in cute little spikes. I dry his body gently, then run the towel through his hair once more.

I wrap the towel around his form, and he follows me back out to his room.

I dress him quickly, glancing at my pocket watch—almost dinner time. In a small rush, I comb out his hair, then toss the comb down on the table stand with a satisfied smile.

"All done!" I exclaim proudly.

He smiles back, cheeks flushing. "Thanks, sis!"

Before I can react, he wraps his arms around my legs in a quick hug, beaming even wider. "You're the best! See you later!"

I watch him leave his room, a soft smile tugging at my lips. These kids are going to be the death of me…

Chapter Text

I've been walking around for a while now, searching for Fenian. No one's seen him, and every room I check is empty. I sigh, growing tired—and a little worried. Where was the little rascal?

He couldn't be outside. He's not allowed. Not with his health—and not with how useless medicine is in this era. His asthma's bad. Scary bad. I got shots as a child before coming here, back when I still had access to decent healthcare, but Fenian?

If I could bring him to the future, he'd be okay. Thriving, even.

I hesitate before pushing open the back doors, heart heavy. Please don't let him be out here.

I step into the yard. The cold wind brushes my cheeks—sharper than usual.

My stomach clenches.

I debate calling his name, but doubt he'll come out, even for me. I know how much he wants to play out here. I want it more than anything too.

Biting my lip, I scan the bushes and trees.

Nothing.

Even Vincent said he hadn't seen his son when I asked earlier. Not that his parents pay attention to him much—that's what I'm here for apparently.

I finally cup my hands around my mouth. "Fenian!" I shout, hoping the wind carries it far enough.

Still nothing.

"Fenian! Please come out," I call again, spinning in place. "I promise not to yell at you!"

Minutes drag by. No sign of him. Maybe…he was never out here to begin with?

Just as I start heading back to the mansion, I hear it:

"Rina!"

I spin around. Fenian stands by a bush a ways off, hugging his arm, eyes glued to the ground. Relief surges through me as I jog over. He kicks at the grass, avoiding my gaze.

Smiling despite the twist of anxiety still lingering, I kneel to his level. "There you are. You made me worried, sport."

He keeps his eyes low. "Sorry…" he mumbles.

I reach out and gently take his small hands in mine. "It's alright, Fenian. I understand."

He flicks his eyes up at me, just for a second, then slips his hands free. They fall to his sides, fists clenching.

"How could you?" he snaps, voice shaking. "You can go outside whenever you want! I'm always stuck inside. I just have to watch everyone have fun!"

His words hit hard. I sigh, already knowing he felt this way. Still, hearing it aloud…

"Hey now, Fenian, look at me," I coax gently. He shakes his head, and I catch a glimpse of tears clinging to the corners of his eyes.

"Fenian. Look at me," I repeat—firmer this time.

Still no response.

I gently take his chin and tilt his face toward mine. "Look. At. Me," I say, slow and steady. "Deep breaths, kid. One. Inhale. Two. Exhale."

I demonstrate the rhythm with my own chest. He mimics me, uneven at first, but then steadier. I see the tension ease in his shoulders.

"There we go." I say softly, squeezing his arms. I meet his gaze. "Were you scared to come out here alone?"

He stiffens. His eyes waver. Then, finally, he nods—just once.

"I was…" His voice breaks. "I was afraid, but I made myself come out here. Because I wanted to. I'm really weak, sis…"

Tears spill freely now. His face crumples, overwhelmed.

I don't answer right away. Just wipe at his cheeks with my sleeve, heart aching.

"Have you always felt like this?" I ask gently.

He nods again. Tight. Silent.

"You know what I think?" I say after a moment.

His teary gaze flicks up.

"Facing our fears—that's what makes us strong."

He stares at me. Silent. Then, slowly, his expression shifts. Realization creeps in. Awe.

"Sis, you're really smart." he murmurs, voice small but sincere.

The breeze catches his hair, pushing it gently back from his face. I flush at his adorableness and pull him into a quick hug.

"You're pretty smart too, kid." I chuckle as he hugs me back.

We laugh together. I get an idea.

"Say…since we're out here…" I pause for effect. "Wanna do something fun?"

His eyes light up. He starts bouncing. "You're going to let me play outside?!"

"Just for a minute," I warn, wagging a finger. "Don't want you getting sick."

He practically dances in place. "I promise I won't!"

I snort. "You can't promise something like that."

Standing with a groan, I stretch until my joints crack. "Alright. Arms out."

He blinks at me but obeys, holding his arms straight.

"Sis, what game are we going to play?"

"Not a game exactly—but it's fun. Ready to fly?" I grin, grabbing both his wrists.

His eyes go wide. "What do you—"

I spin in a circle, lifting him off the ground. His shriek echoes through the yard. "Ahhh! Sis?!"

I laugh as he finally lets out a real one too—screaming and giggling all at once.

"Let me know if you start breathing hard, Fenian!" I shout through our whirlwind.

We spin for what feels like forever, until I'm dizzy and breathless. We collapse onto the grass, giggling as the world tilts around us.

A small figure approaches from the distance. I rub my eyes and focus—

Ciel.

He reaches us just as we sit up.

"Hi, Ciel." I greet, still catching my breath.

"What is Fenian doing out here?" he asks, brow furrowing.

I clear my throat. "Er, I found him out here."

He squints. "And why aren't you inside yet?"

"I thought your brother deserved to be out here for a bit." I answer, voice steady.

Ciel exhales, his expression softening. "Feni, did you have fun?"

Fenian beams. "Yeah! Sis made me fly."

I sweatdrop at the phrasing. Ciel gives me a confused look.

"Wanna try?" I offer, already standing.

Ciel eyes me like I've lost it. "Not sure if I want to get hurt."

I grab his wrists anyway. "Wuss." I tease, sticking out my tongue.

His face flames red. "Am not! Take that back!"

I laugh and start spinning him around. "Wahhhh!" he cries, hair flying everywhere.

Fenian howls with laughter, cheering us on.

When I stop, Ciel is gasping. "Sis, I hate you." he grumbles, swatting at his wild hair.

"No, you don't," I shoot back, grinning. "Shall we go inside?"

They both nod and run to my sides, grabbing my hands. I swing our arms back and forth as we head in. The walk is short, but none of us mind.

"Father talked to me today." Ciel says suddenly. His tone is serious. Fenian perks up beside him.

"He said he was going to begin assigning tutors to Fenian and me."

I blink, surprised. "That sucks. You guys are gonna have less free time."

Both boys pout.

"So we won't see you anymore?" they ask in unison.

I raise my brows. "Well…more like not as often."

They scowl slightly as we reach the stairs. I hold the door for them, and they head inside.

"I'll see you guys soon. I'm going to take a short nap before dinner service starts." I say, waving as we part ways.

Once I'm alone, I head upstairs, exhausted. I barely slept last night. I had a strange dream…

A figure cloaked in black. Glowing red eyes burning through the dark.

He didn't speak. Didn't hurt me. Didn't even seem to notice I was there. Just…passed by, like I was no one.

I'd woken up drenched in sweat, neck tingling like it had been touched.

I sigh and round a corner—only to walk straight into someone.

"Ow—ah, sorry!" I blurt, holding my nose.

A deep chuckle answers me. "It's quite alright, Rina."

I look up, recognizing the voice. "Oh, it's just you."

"Just me?" Vincent smirks. "Now I feel unimportant."

I fumble for a reply, but he waves it off. "Kidding."

I laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. "Of course."

"Where are you headed?" he asks.

I yawn. "To take a nap."

He eyes my face with concern. "Not sleeping well?"

I shake my head. "I had a weird dream last night. Woke me up."

"Ah, I see." He nods. "Before I let you go—I have something to discuss with you."

Curious, I pause. "What is it?"

"I've hired tutors for the boys."

"Ciel mentioned that. A bit sudden."

He nods. "They'll begin next week. Just wanted to give you a heads up—so you can adjust your schedule."

"Thanks, Vincent. I appreciate it."

He offers a small smile. "One more thing—there's a party in London I must attend. I'll be taking the boys. I was hoping you'd accompany us. I don't trust them not to cause trouble."

Surprised, I smile. "I wouldn't mind."

"Thank you, Rina. I'll make it up to you."

I shake my head. "Vincent, you've done more than enough for me already."

His hand lands gently on my shoulder. He gives it a squeeze, warm and sincere. "I'll let you know the date. Now go get that nap."

He walks off, and I press a hand to the spot where his rested.

Back in my room, I shut the door behind me, unlace my corset, and fling it across the room like it's cursed. The damn thing nearly strangles me every day.

I crawl into bed, sighing into the pillow.

Sleep swallows me whole.

0o0o0o0o

I end up taking a two-hour power nap—and honestly, I feel a lot better. No creepy dreams this time, which is definitely a win. I make my way to the other side of the mansion to check on the boys and help get them ready for dinner if they need it.

I stop at Ciel's room first and knock. No answer.

Pushing the door open slowly, I peek inside. The room is dim, calm. My eyes land on Ciel lying on the bed, fast asleep. A soft smile creeps onto my face. God, I wish I had a camera. These kids were always adorable—but like this? Too much. I tiptoe over and sit gently at the edge of his bed.

I reach out and brush a few stray hairs from his closed eyes. His lashes flutter.

"Mother..." he murmurs, barely conscious.

"Wrong. It's Rina." I whisper back with a small laugh.

He groans and cracks a sleepy smile—althought hesitant. "Oh, sorry."

I wait while he wakes up a bit more. Eventually, he sits up with a yawn.

"Copied what I was planning on, huh?"

He blushes lightly. "Maybe."

"Well, you look decent enough." I run my fingers through his hair to fix the worst of the bedhead. "Go get some dinner."

He gives me a grateful smile as he shuffles toward the door. I follow, gently closing it behind us.

Next stop: the other gremlin. I turn the knob on Fenian's door.

"Fenian!" I shout, throwing the door open dramatically.

He jumps and spins around from his book. "Sis! You scared me!"

Laughing with a victorious smirk, I stride in. "That was the point."

He pouts at me with a weak glare. I plop down beside him on the bed.

"What are you reading?"

"An old children's book." he says, holding up the cover.

"Oh, I remember reading that to you guys." I say fondly, squinting at the artwork.

He nods. "Yeah. Do you have a favorite book?"

I hum in thought, scrolling through mental shelves. "When it comes to children's books, I'd have to say Peter Pan. But if we're talking about an all-time favorite? Definitely the Harry Potter series."

He tilts his head. "I've never heard of those."

Chuckling, I gently pluck the book from his hands, slip a bookmark in, and set it behind us. Standing up, I nod toward the hallway. He follows.

"Ah, you probably won't ever get the chance to read them. A shame, really."

"Why not?" he frowns.

"They're...lost, I guess you could say."

He hums thoughtfully.

"Doesn't mean I can't tell you what they're about sometimes."

He lights up. "Please do!"

I laugh as we make our way downstairs to the dining room. When we reach the doors, I push one open for him.

He enters with a small smile.

I pause at the threshold. I wish I could eat with them, just once. That's one part of this world I've always had to sit out. Sighing, I slip away toward the kitchen to grab something for myself.

Today's been a rollercoaster.

0o0o0o0o0o

One week later...

I straighten the boys' outfits, grinning. "You two are heartbreakers already." I pinch both their cheeks playfully.

Ciel scowls and bats my hand away. "Sis!" he whines.

I giggle. "Bet you're gonna get lots of attention from the ladies tonight."

"I already have a fiancée." Ciel says proudly, though his face turns a little pink.

I gag. "People shouldn't marry their family," I mutter. "Besides, you're way too young for all that. I told your father so!"

"If Father says so, then I have no choice." he replies gloomily.

I blink. Wow. That's...depressing. "Well, if I have anything to say about it, you should enjoy being a kid while you still can."

I rise from my crouch, my back popping with the movement.

Turning to Fenian, I notice he's gone quiet. "Fenian? Are you good?"

His big eyes peek up at me. "Just a little nervous."

I offer a warm smile. "It'll be just like the parties your parents host—only somewhere else." He nods, though he still looks unsure. "Hey. You've got me, your brother, even your father. We'll all be right there with you."

That seems to calm him a bit. He flashes a small, shy smile.

"Alright, kiddos. Ready?" I hold out both hands.

They each grab one, and we head out. Vincent waits for us by the front door, and we all climb into the carriage. The sky outside glows with sunset, colors melting together in a soft ombré.

Fenian sits beside me, Ciel next to his father.

Ten minutes pass in silence before I can't stand it anymore.

"Why haven't smartphones been invented yet?" I groan, slouching dramatically. "I'd sell my soul for a phone right now."

Vincent raises a brow. "Sell your soul…?"

Fenian blinks. "What's that, sis?"

I sigh longingly. "Something that makes this ride more entertaining."

"Oh." He thinks for a moment. "Can I have one?"

I snort. "You're too young. And also—they don't exist yet."

Vincent chuckles, and Ciel seems lost in thought. I glance down at my clean maid uniform, freshly ironed for this event. "Say, Vincent...What's this party even for?"

He smirks. "Mainly business."

"And it's okay to bring your sons because…?" I shoot him a look.

He stares out the window. "It's nothing formal. Just a chance for them to meet a few people."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever you say, boss."

Yawning, I try to get comfy.

Suddenly, Fenian shifts beside me and tugs my sleeve.

"C-Can I lay in your lap, Rina?" he asks shyly, not meeting my gaze.

I melt. "Of course, cutie!" I pull him into my lap, where he curls up contentedly under my chin.

"You guys are getting bigger. Not fair." I pout.

He giggles, and even Vincent joins in. "I agree." he says, glancing at Ciel.

"I'll be as tall as you, Father!" Ciel proclaims.

I fake a sniffle. "I'll cry the day you all pass my height."

Fenian rests a small hand on my cheek. "Yeah, but once we're older, we can protect you, sis!"

Blushing, I spot Ciel nodding in agreement. I cough, flustered. "Thanks, you two. But it's still my job to protect you."

Their smiles say everything. I lean back, heart full.

This life might be strange, but it's starting to feel like mine.

0o0o0o0o0o

It takes about an hour to reach London. When we finally arrive, Tanaka opens the carriage door with a respectful nod. I'm the last one out—he offers a hand to help me, which I accept gratefully.

Vincent and the boys are already striding toward the building.

"W-Wait for me!" I huff, gathering my skirt and jogging after them. Catching up at the doors, I glare at Vincent. "Y-You...you could've waited."

He smirks. "I knew you'd catch up."

I suppress the urge to throttle him. Not the place. Everyone around us is dressed like royalty, mingling with wine glasses in hand. I feel...underdressed. My maid uniform is neat but plain.

The women here glitter in silks and jewels, clinging to their husbands—or so I assume.

"Why didn't Rach—er, milady—come, my lord?" I ask, stumbling over the correction.

"She said she didn't want to." Vincent replies casually.

I fall silent. Nothing else to say to that.

Scanning the room, I spot mostly men—and not bad-looking ones, either. At least the view isn't terrible. And that dessert table? I will be partaking in that chocolate cake later.

Ciel and Fenian chat happily. I can tell Ciel's trying to keep his brother distracted from the crowd. I smile, turning to the nearby window. Through the glass, I see the night sky stretching above the city.

Stars shimmer quietly, undisturbed.

A memory rises—watching a lunar eclipse with my mom and a telescope, staying up way too late. She said the stars reminded her of her father. I barely remember my grandpa. He died when I was really little.

What's she doing now? Does she wonder where I am?

Vincent notices I've drifted from his side and joins me at the window.

"Is something wrong, Rina?"

I shake my head slowly. "Not at all. Just looking at the stars, I suppose."

"They are beautiful, indeed."

Before I can say anything more, laughter erupts behind us.

Suddenly, Fenian dives behind my skirt with a grin, squishing himself between me and the window.

"I'm gonna get you!" Ciel's voice rings out.

I scoop Fenian up with a laugh. "Ah, ah. Try getting him now, Ciel—er, young master!"

"That's not fair!" Ciel pouts, reaching for his brother.

I grin and hold Fenian just out of reach. "It's not if the person wasn't playing to begin with."

Vincent chuckles nearby, and I finally set Fenian down.

He coughs lightly, and I frown. "You okay?"

"Mhm." he nods with a small smile.

I ruffle his hair. "Let me know if you start feeling bad, okay?"

"I will."

Vincent leaves to speak with someone, and I hang back with the boys. Ciel stands beside me, clearly bored. Fenian peeks out from behind my legs again. I feel a few women's eyes on me—judging. I bite my tongue.

Vincent returns, annoyed. "That man was a waste of time."

"That's rude." I tease.

"It's not rude if they can't hear it."

"Touche."

Then, two men approach. One older, one rounder. The round one—Kelvin—stares at us too long. My gut twists.

The older man steps forward. "Allow me to introduce Baron Kelvin."

"P-Pleased to meet you." Kelvin stammers, holding out his hand.

The way he looks at Vincent...I don't like it.

Vincent keeps polite, shaking his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Even so, I can tell he's not thrilled.

I feel Fenian tug my skirt again. I pat his head to reassure him. Vincent does the same for Ciel. "Go on, you introduce yourself first."

"Right!" Ciel says brightly. "Pleased to meet you, Lord Kelvin. I'm Ciel."

Did...Did Kelvin just blush? Oh no. My stomach drops.

Then his eyes slide down—straight to Fenian peeking from behind me. I quickly nudge Fenian back, feeling his tiny fingers cling to my skirt.

"I'm sorry, he's shy with strangers," Vincent says. "His health is fragile, so I rarely bring him places."

Suddenly, Ciel points and exclaims, "Oh, it's Uncle Chlaus!"

I follow his gaze and smile. That guy I can tolerate.

Chlaus beams, arms wide. "Oh, Ciel! Guten tag! Good to see you again."

Ciel runs to him and practically leaps into his arms.

Vincent lights up. "Chlaus! You're back?"

We all make our way toward him, Fenian squeezing my hand tight. I toss a subtle glare Kelvin's way before I go. He shrinks under it.

Good.

Chlaus sets Ciel down, spotting Fenian behind me. "How are you, Fenian?"

Fenian inches forward. "I'm okay." he mumbles shyly.

God, this kid. I've never met one so bashful. It's adorable—but I hope Vincent starts letting him attend more things like this. He needs the practice.

As the men start chatting, I quickly grow bored. Should've brought a book...

Wait. The food!

Grinning, I announce, "I'm going to grab some dessert."

I doubt anyone hears me. I'm already walking off—on a mission for chocolate cake.

"Wait! Sis!" two voices call out in unison behind me.

I halt mid-step and glance back as the boys skid to a stop at my sides.

"What?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"We want food too!" Ciel exclaims, eyes locked hungrily on the dessert table behind me.

I smirk and grab their hands, dragging them along like little ducklings. "Come on then."

As soon as we reach the table, I swipe a plate of chocolate cake and a fork, claiming it like a dragon with treasure. The boys immediately follow suit, both reaching for slices of their own.

"Don't make a mess, please." I warn, side-eying them while I take a bite.

They nod in unison and begin eating quietly. The cake is...fine. Not the worst I've ever had, but far from heavenly. I shrug and glance down at the boys—they're distracted, scanning the crowd as they chew, expressions slowly shifting to unease.

The room is definitely getting too crowded. Too many voices, too many stares.

"Oh yeah," I remember, lowering my voice as I glance around for him, "guys, stay away from the round dude we just met."

"Why?" Ciel asks, cheeks full of cake.

I sweat drop. Manners, my child. Though, he probably gets that from me.

"He's creepy, that's why." I answer plainly.

Fenian has chocolate smeared near his mouth as he chimes in, "I didn't like him much either."

I nod in agreement, finishing my last bite and placing my plate back on the table.

The boys follow suit, setting their plates near mine. I grab a napkin and crouch down, dabbing the smudges of chocolate from their mouths.

"Really, guys. I said not to make a mess." I scold gently, narrowing my eyes.

They smile like innocent angels. "Whoops." they chorus.

I shake my head, trying not to laugh—it doesn't take long to wipe them clean.

Once we're done, we return to where Vincent and Chlaus are still chatting away.

Fenian hides behind his father's legs this time, and Ciel stays close at my side. The rest of the evening drags on, a blur of introductions and meaningless small talk. People keep approaching Vincent—some men, some women—and all of them act like he's royalty.

Okay, technically he is, but still.

My legs begin to ache from standing too long. It reminds me of that one middle school honor roll ceremony—waiting forever while they called a hundred names. At least now, I get to study whatever I want.

The mansion library is huge, and no tests? Heaven.

I consider sitting on the floor just to rest my poor feet, but that would apparently be "improper." So I sigh. Loudly.

Fenian looks up at me, puzzled. I offer a small smile, and he hugs Vincent's leg a little tighter. I glance around the room, watching as women sweep by with champagne flutes and condescending eyes. I don't bother approaching them—they know I'm staff based on the uniform alone.

One of Vincent's conversations finally ends, and the man he was talking to walks away, all pleased with himself.

"Vin—My Lordddd." I drawl, dragging myself over dramatically.

Vincent turns, eyebrow raised. "What is it?"

I stare up at him with fake watery eyes. "I'm sooo bored."

He sighs through a cheerful grimace. "I never said it would be fun. Please bear through it."

"There must be something."

"Stop acting like a child." he scolds, rolling his eyes.

I pout, crossing my arms and stomping once. "I'm not."

"Right." he says dryly, clearly unimpressed.

I glance around with exaggerated wistfulness. "If only I weren't a servant. I bet some guy would be chatting me up right now."

Vincent laughs. "I'd feel bad for the gentleman."

I gasp. "What's that supposed to mean?!" My voice pitches higher than intended.

He winces. "I rest my case."

I feel my cheeks burn, embarrassment and fury mingling like soda and Mentos. "Why you little—!"

"Now, now, no need for vulgar language," Vincent interrupts calmly, lips twitching with a concealed smirk. "You are a lady, after all."

Through gritted teeth, I glare daggers at him. "I. Hate. You."

He smiles innocently, saying nothing more.

A small tug on my sleeve shifts my attention. Fenian's looking up at me with a pouty expression.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my temper dissolving instantly.

"You don't like Father?" he mumbles, voice small.

My heart aches a little. "No, I do," I reassure him with a smile. "He's just a pain sometimes."

Fenian's lips form a little "oh," and he nods as if he understands.

0o0o0o0o0o

The rest of the night passes in a blur. We're there for nearly four hours, and by the end of it, I'm running on fumes. When we finally make it out and into the carriage, I let out a long, dramatic groan. My legs are jelly. Sitting down has never felt more divine.

The boys climb in after me and settle snugly against my sides. Vincent enters last, sitting where he had on the way in.

Both boys yawn and press closer to me, eyes already fluttering shut.

I stroke their hair gently, a soft smile tugging at my lips. They're out like lights within minutes.

And before long, so am I—lulled to sleep by the warmth of their trust and the quiet hum of the wheels.

Despite the time period, despite the roles we're forced into…

I dream of us.

A little, strange, happy family.

Chapter Text

A Few Years Later...

The sun dips lower in the sky, bathing the Phantomhive estate in warm gold. Evening settles in quietly—just another calm day at the manor.

The boys have grown so much. Still identical in the face—however, in my opinion, Ciel looks more like his father and Fenian like his mother. Despite this, they part their hair differently—an effort to distinguish themselves. They only reach my hips, but even that feels impossible.

It's hard watching them grow, harder knowing I can't freeze time.

And yet...it's beautiful.

With them still on my mind, I step out of the last room I was cleaning. I dust my hands together in satisfaction and head toward the kitchen, my stomach growling in agreement.

I descend the grand staircase, but pause halfway when a sudden burst of voices echoes from the first floor. Slowing my steps, I crane my neck toward the noise. Someone's speaking loudly—and not just one person.

At the bottom, I veer toward the open parlor door and peek inside through the crack.

Inside are the boys, Rachel...and Nina Hopkins.

Grinning, I shove the door open without hesitation. Rachel's presence be damned.

"Nina!" I shout, rushing toward her.

Her eyes widen, then light up. "My dear!"

I nearly tackle her in a hug. She squeezes back—but I squeeze harder.

"Ah, ah! It hurts!" Nina gasps.

I laugh and release her before I end up breaking a rib. I've always been unnaturally strong—even before I started secretly exercising. She winces slightly, but smiles.

"Sorry," I say sheepishly, scratching my cheek. "So, did you make my order yet?"

With a knowing smile, Nina walks to her bag and pulls out a neatly bundled stack of fabric. "Here you go! I made sure the measurements were right!"

She hands me the bundle and I cradle it against my chest with an excited grin. "Thank you so much, Nina!"

The clothing inside is priceless—modern makeshifts: t-shirts, wire-free bras, underwear, and shorts. After months of trial and error, we finally perfected the designs. I spent my entire year's salary on this. I've never worn a proper bra before—only heard other women complain. But these? These have to be better than a corset.

"I want to see you in them so bad," Nina gushes. "These are some of the most exquisite designs!"

She immediately grabs for my chest, hands fondling without shame.

"Ah—Nina!" I yelp, face flushing crimson. I bat her hands away and scurry to hide behind Rachel. My eyes plead for mercy.

Rachel gives me a scolding look, though there's a flicker of sympathy in her sigh. "Miss Hopkins, please don't harass my maid."

Nina draws back with an apologetic smile. I peek out from behind Rachel, still hugging the bundle tightly.

"Thanks." I whisper.

Rachel nods and turns back to Nina, shifting the conversation to clothing designs for the boys. I glance at Ciel and Fenian, who are eyeing the fabric bundle with curiosity.

Ciel approaches first. "What did you get, Sis?"

"Some long-awaited comfortable items." I reply, beaming.

"Can we see?" Fenian asks, just as curious.

I shake my head, a slight blush blooming. "Err…it's not appropriate."

They nod in sync, surprisingly understanding.

"I'll catch up with you guys soon. I'm gonna try these on."

With that, I slip out of the parlor and race to my bedroom, weaving past servants and narrowly avoiding a collision with Tanaka.

Once I'm inside, panting, I shut the door and untie the ribbon holding the bundle. I spread everything out carefully across the bed—shorts, shirts, underwear. Everything looks perfect. So modern, so familiar.

The sight nearly brings tears to my eyes. It reminds me of afternoons at the mall with my mother, trying on clothes, laughing in dressing rooms.

Smiling, I begin to undress, swapping old for new. The bra and underwear fit snugly, just like Nina said. It feels strange—but not in a bad way.

I walk to the mirror, twirl a little, studying the reflection. Despite being just cloth and lace, the garments make me feel bold. Confident. They're soft but textured—nothing like the cheap, itchy materials in town.

Definitely an upgrade from a corset.

Laughing to myself, I pull on a pair of tan cloth shorts and a pale pink top trimmed with white lace. They fit like a dream. I return to the mirror and pause.

I almost blush. I'm bulky in places now, thanks to the exercises I've dedicated myself to. My sun-kissed skin glows warmly against the fabric, and for once...I actually like how I look.

A knock at the door jolts me out of my thoughts.

"Who is it?" I call, nerves fluttering. I scramble to gather the clothes, shoving them hastily under the bed.

"It is Rachel." comes the reply.

Panic. I yank a robe from the closet, yanking it on with clumsy urgency. "O-Oh?! Did you need something, my lady?" I squeak, cinching the tie.

I open the door a crack, trying to seem casual. Rachel blinks, slightly startled by how fast I answered.

"I was stopping by," she says calmly, "to ask about the clothing. It's rare to see you ordering anything for yourself."

A bead of sweat slides down my temple. My smile feels way too forced. "A-Ah? I see. Well…the clothing seems to be a bit too small, unfortunately."

Rachel frowns. "That's odd. Miss Hopkins said she had your measurements exactly?"

I laugh awkwardly. "Mhm. Right...Well, it seems there was a mistake."

She nods slightly, but her eyes drift to the pink shirt peeking out from beneath my robe.

"Then why is your robe on?" she asks, suspicious.

Every alarm in my brain goes off. Why is she so nosy today?!

"You caught me mid-change, my lady." I say, only half-lying.

She sighs. "I see. I'm sorry for disturbing you. What did you order, exactly? Perhaps it could be resized."

I grit my teeth behind the smile. "A couple of simple gowns. No problem."

Satisfied—for now—Rachel finally leaves. I offer a polite curtsey as she turns away, then quickly shut the door and slump back against it.

Okay. No more daytime fashion shows. Lesson learned.

I undress, tuck the modern clothes away, and change back into my maid uniform. Glancing at my pocket watch, I see it's been about forty-five minutes since I last saw the boys.

Time to get them ready for dinner.

I dash from the room, excited. I barely see them during the day anymore, not with all the lessons Vincent insists on. I've tried complaining, but he never listens.

Downstairs, a servant points me to the study room. I knock gently.

An older woman's voice calls for me to enter. I step inside, greeting her with a curtsey. She nods back, and my gaze immediately goes to the boys. They look bored—until they see me.

"The time indicates the lesson is over, Madam." I say sweetly, watching the boys perk up.

"Indeed it is. Till next time, maid." She waves us off with a flick of her hand.

The twins bow politely, then rush to my sides with grins.

I ruffle their hair. "Hey, kiddos. Happy I saved you from falling asleep?"

Ciel tries to squirm away, but Fenian leans into my hand, giggling. Always opposite.

"It was boring, I will admit." Ciel chuckles as I pull my hands away.

We exit the study and make our way to their rooms.

"I don't mind it." Fenian says. "I like to learn new things."

I smile at him. "Nothing better than learning something new. I do it almost every day I'm here."

Ciel glances up at me, curious. "Like what? What did you learn today?"

I think for a moment. "To try on clothes at night. Your mother's quite curious about what I wear." I grumble, still irritated.

They blink, confused, but I wave it off.

We reach Ciel's door.

"Okay, how about I teach you two something new?" I ask. "You're what, eight?"

"Seven and a half." Fenian corrects matter-of-factly.

I laugh. "Whoops. Right. Seven and a half. So—would you like to learn how to tie your shoes and get yourselves ready?"

"Why?" Ciel asks, frowning. "That's what you're here for."

The words hit like a slap.

I blink at him, stunned. Anger flares—hot, then cold.

"Excuse me?" I ask, voice low. "That may be my job description, but you two—"

I stop. Staring at their faces, I let out a shaky breath. Maybe they're just too young. Maybe they don't know.

I unclench my fists. My voice comes out cold. "Oh, I see how it is." I laugh a little—bitter, hollow. "You know what? Let me find someone else to take care of you tonight."

I spin on my heel and march down the corridor, telling a maid I'm feeling sick. I fake a smile, then disappear back into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

Outside, thunder rumbles.

Rain hits the window in slow, rhythmic taps. Fitting. The weather always seems to echo me.

I lie back on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Ciel's words won't stop echoing. Was I always just the help to them?

They call me "Sis." I've raised them. I've loved them.

And now…this?

I guess they only know what they see.

Tears prick my eyes. I swallow them down.

Skipping dinner, I change into my sleeping gown and curl beneath the covers. The ache won't go away.

Maybe I'm just tired.

Another rumble of thunder. Then nothing.

0o0o0o0o

Something shakes me.

I swat blindly at the hand, mumbling.

A sniffle pulls me out of sleep. Lightning flashes, illuminating a small figure by my bed.

"Fenian?" I croak. "Ciel?"

More sniffles. "Sis?" Fenian's voice trembles.

I sit up groggily, looking toward the storm-darkened window. The rain hammers the glass, thunder close behind.

He grips the edge of the bed. I scoot toward the wall and he climbs up, clutching his stuffed rabbit.

"Fenian..." I start, watching him burrow under the covers. "What's wrong?"

Another crack of thunder and he lets out a sob, burying himself in my chest. His small body trembles.

I forget everything—my anger, my bruised pride. Wrapping my arms around him, I hum softly and run my fingers through his hair.

"I'm scared," he whispers, "and I feel bad for making you mad."

Just like that, the pain shifts—still sore, but not stabbing.

"I know," I whisper, holding him tighter. "Maybe I overreacted. You don't know any better yet."

"I'm sorry." he whimpers.

"I forgive you."

A tear slides down my cheek, hidden by the dark.

We stay that way for a while—just the two of us, cocooned in warmth while the storm rages outside.

After a long silence, I ask gently, "Why were you scared?"

He doesn't answer right away. And for once, I'm afraid to know.

A boom of thunder ripples outside, rattling the windows. Fenian whimpers and tucks himself tighter against me.

"T-The storm," he sniffles again.

"Oh," I murmur, realization dawning. I smile down at him even though he can't see it in the dark. "Want to know something about storms?" I ask, pulling the blanket tighter around us.

"What?"

"They say we should face the storm. To defy it. And by overcoming it...who knows what a person can do afterward?" I whisper, thinking of all the things I've had to overcome since arriving here.

"Like what?" Fenian asks, curiosity barely masking his fear.

I pause to think. "Who knows? Anything you want, really. Sometimes it can be good or bad. But in the end, it's up to the person. They decide what to do with what they've learned. It has to be respectable enough for them...or else what's the point?"

He's quiet for a moment, then I feel a small nod against my chest.

The door creaks. My breath catches. I jerk upright.

Fenian whines at the sudden movement, clinging tighter.

"Who's there?" I call out, scanning the slim crack of the door. A flash of lightning illuminates the hallway—and I spot a familiar silhouette.

"Ciel?" I blink. "What are you doing here?"

He shuffles in, eyes on the floor, and quietly closes the door behind him.

"I came here to apologize." he says softly.

I frown, heart softening, and sit up straighter. "Come here." I beckon, waving him over though I doubt he can see it.

He approaches slowly and stops beside the bed, head still bowed.

"Ciel, I'm not mad anymore," I tell him gently. "I accept your apology, though."

His head lifts slightly in the dark, surprised.

"Really?" he asks hesitantly.

"Honestly," I confirm with a small smile. "Now—wanna sleep with me and your brother?" I ask, laying back down and holding the blanket open.

Ciel clambers into bed without hesitation and settles at my other side. I pat his head and wrap my arms around both of them, pulling them close.

"Let's get some shut-eye, yeah?" I whisper.

Their arms curl around my waist, their heads nestling near my neck. I feel their warm breath against my skin, soft and steady. They're already asleep.

I squirm slightly, adjusting to their hold, and let my eyes drift closed with a tired smile.

0o0o0o0o

Vincent's POV:

Vincent strolls down the corridor early the next morning. It's nearly time for breakfast, and he moves toward the boys' rooms with casual ease.

He opens Ciel's door first, expecting to see his oldest curled up in bed.

He gasps. The bed is empty.

Frowning, he strides to Fenian's room and opens the door. Also empty.

Concern flashes across his face as he quickly descends the main staircase. He walks with brisk purpose to Rina's room and knocks softly.

No response.

He opens the door slowly and peeks in.

His eyes land on the bed—and he exhales a small laugh through his nose.

She's sound asleep, curled up with both boys. Fenian is practically buried in her chest, while Ciel drools unceremoniously against her neck.

Vincent smirks at the scene.

Then, with absolutely no remorse, he leans in and shouts:

"Rina, you're already slacking! Wake up!"

She jolts awake with a gasp. The twins groan groggily, blinking blearily at the sudden noise.

0o0o0o0o

The next morning slaps me in the face with a wall of hot, sticky air.

If yesterday ended with a chilled thunderstorm, today begins like I've walked straight into a furnace.

All the manor's windows are open, but it's no use. The heat sits in every corner—outside, inside, even in my shoes. I keep fanning myself with a handkerchief.

It's not Florida heat, but it's still miserable.

Where's some ice cream when you need it? Chocolate fudge brownie sounds divine right now. Or a cool pool to sink into and just melt.

I almost forget about the heat imagining it—until another wave of hot air brushes against my face as I pass an open window.

I groan out a deep sigh, wiping sweat from my brow.

I desperately want to wear the clothes Nina made me.

But no. Heaven forbid a woman appear even slightly improper around here.

I trudge down the hall, greeting the passing servants with a small smile. Judging by their faces, they're feeling the same melting misery I am.

I want a bath. Badly. But I've still got too many chores.

Since I'm not assigned to the boys as much lately, the head maid's made sure to keep me extra busy.

I now understand with painful clarity that I hate scrubbing floors with wax.

If only I could sneak out in my shorts and shirt, dress like a boy, and explore London for a bit. But Tanaka would never allow it.

I sigh again—loud and theatrical, not caring who hears.

Unfortunately, I do it right as I'm passing Rachel.

"A young lady does not sigh." she chides without looking up.

I stop mid-step. My smile fades instantly.

I turn to her, deadpan. "Perhaps there's a lot on my mind, my lady. I'd kindly appreciate it if you didn't question my habits."

She glares at me. "Rina, you are at an age where you should be accustomed to manners around the higher class. Perhaps I need to remind you how to speak to one."

I clench my fists. A tick forms at my temple.

The heat has me already on edge—and now this?

"I'm so terribly sorry, my lady," I bite out. "Maybe it's that your ears aren't accustomed to what people call opinions?"

Oh no. I've done it now.

Her face flushes with rage. "How dare you! You are just a servant. There is no need for an opinion."

The words hit like a slap.

I gasp. "How dare me? How dare you! Don't forget I'm a person too!"

Before it can escalate further, a voice cuts through the air.

"What is going on here?"

Vincent.

His tone is cold and sharp as a blade. Rachel and I both stiffen.

She turns with a perfect smile. "It's nothing, Vincent. Just some womanly squabbling, isn't that right, Rina?"

I gulp and nod stiffly. "Erm…yes. Must be the heat. My apologies, my lord and lady."

I curtsey quickly and scurry away, heart hammering.

That was the most ridiculous argument I've had with her in ages. It brings back memories of our teenage bickering—and ruins my mood for the rest of the day.

Chores do nothing to help.

By mid-afternoon, I decide: maybe food will fix this.

Chocolate always helps.

Already on my way to the kitchen, I hear laughter outside and glance through the window.

Ciel's in the yard, playing with Sebastian.

I smile, heart lightening. Without thinking, I veer toward the back doors and step into the sun-drenched garden.

I whistle, catching both their attention. Sebastian barks and bolts toward me, tail wagging.

He nearly knocks me over, and I laugh, holding him back. "Sebastian! Calm down, boy."

Ciel runs over, flushed and panting. "Hello, Sis!" he cheers with a grin.

"You're crazy for being out here." I tease, patting the dog's head.

He laughs, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, it's really warm."

"You look like you could use a bath," I say, eyeing his dirt-streaked face. "Wait—don't you have lessons right now?"

"Our teacher's old," Ciel shrugs. "She couldn't handle the heat today."

"Lucky you, huh, kiddo?"

He hums and looks up at me hopefully. "Can you give me a bath?"

"Sure thing, smelly." I tease and scoop him up in my arms.

He yelps. "I can walk, you know!"

"I know." I hold him tighter. "But I miss holding you guys. You're still the cutest babies I've ever seen."

He grumbles something incoherent, and I think I spot a blush.

"You're cute too, Sis." he mumbles bashfully.

I blink, caught off guard. Then laugh. "Thanks, kiddo."

I call for Sebastian to follow us inside. The heat presses in around me, making my head light and limbs heavy. But I carry Ciel all the way back, determined.

They're getting bigger. I forget how fast time moves until it's right in my arms.

And no matter how heavy life gets—I'll always carry them.

I carry him up the stairs, Sebastian already drifting off to wander somewhere else. When we reach Ciel's bedroom, I set him down gently in front of the door.

Opening it, I usher him inside. "I'm going to go ask your brother if he needs a bath and grab the water. I'll be back soon."

He nods without hesitation, and I close the door behind him.

I approach Fenian's door and knock softly, hoping he's inside. No response. I open it quietly to check if he's asleep but find the room empty. Disappointed, I close the door and move on quickly.

Now I have to find him and fetch water.

0o0o0o0o0o

I stop passing servants to ask, "Have you seen the youngest master anywhere?"

Most shake their heads, which slowly irritates me. I swear, if that kid's wandering out in this heat, I'll punish him—so help me.

Grumbling a stream of curses under my breath, I keep searching. Finally, a servant tells me Fenian's in Vincent's study.

I let out a relieved sigh and head down the hall. At the study door, I knock gently and wait.

"Yes?" Vincent calls.

I open the door and step inside, still flushed with embarrassment from my fight with Rachel earlier. Remembering it stirs my blood—Rachel means well, but she really can grate on my nerves sometimes. She was much kinder when I was a child.

I don't even know how to describe our relationship now.

"Sis!" Fenian calls, grinning as he sees me.

I shake off my thoughts and smile back. "There you are, sport. Been looking for you."

I glance over at Vincent, who stares blankly, lost in some deep thought.

"Good afternoon, Vincent." I say politely.

He offers a kind, if somewhat forced, smile. "Yes, indeed."

Fenian tugs on my dress skirt, eyes wide with curiosity. "What do you need me for?"

I chuckle and scoop him into my arms with a huff. Ciel's a bit heavier—maybe Fenian should eat more? I think absently.

Fenian gasps in surprise, then grins. "I was wondering if you would like to bathe with your brother." I tell him, already knowing he'll say yes.

His head bobs eagerly. "Yes! I want to!"

I laugh, turning to Vincent. "If you don't mind, I'll be stealing Fenian for the time being."

Vincent chuckles and waves us off with a 'shoo.' "I am quite busy now. It would be welcomed. I will see you later, Fenian."

Fenian tosses a tiny smile at his father as I walk out with him in my arms. He wraps his arms around my neck, peering back over my shoulder. "It's pretty hot out, isn't it?" I make small talk.

I turn toward the laundry room to get water for the bath. Setting Fenian down gently, I fill a bucket with warm water heated by the mini-boiler. I wonder how long until we get proper plumbing.

"It is. I think this is one of the times I don't mind being inside." Fenian admits, moving over to the window to peek outside.

I nod. "That's true. It's disgustingly humid." Once the first bucket's filled, I grab another and do the same. "A popsicle sounds nice right now." I murmur.

I want a bomb-pop, to be exact.

Fenian turns, backs away from the window, and squints at me. "Popsicle? What's that? That's a weird word."

I shake my head, amused. He's right, it's a strange word. "It's a type of food. Sadly, there's none around here. It cools you down, though." I want one even more now. I really need to back away from sweets.

Good thing I exercise—or I'd have gained weight by now.

"I want one now." he pouts, eyes sparkling.

Oh God, he knows exactly how much that face affects me. I want to give in. "Damnit, brat. You know how I feel about the pouty face." I scowl, watching it deepen with every word.

I stop the water before it overflows. "If I had magic, I'd make every single food appear, and I'd be comatose."

He laughs. "You'd look funny fat." he teases, pointing at my stomach.

I smirk and pat my belly. "You think? I'd be a comfy pillow, though." I joke, then pick up both buckets.

I start trudging out of the room, Fenian following with hands clasped behind his back. He giggles at my jest and shakes his head. "You are perfect the way you are, Rina!"

My eyes widen in surprise, but I smile softly. "One thing you should know, kiddo: nobody is perfect." I tell him as we reach the main foyer staircase.

He taps his finger on his chin thoughtfully. "Why not?"

"Well," I huff, feeling the strain of the buckets, "people just can't be. It goes against everything in life. If someone were perfect, they'd never learn anything new. A perfect person just does not exist."

He frowns.

We make it up the stairs.

"Even if they practice?" he asks as we turn toward Ciel's bedroom.

"Even if they do, people still mess up sometimes. It's part of what makes us human, I suppose." I say, lost in thought.

He falls silent, seeming done with his questions.

At Ciel's door, Fenian opens it for me. I follow inside and find Ciel reading on his bed. He looks up and smiles at us both.

"Ready?" I ask, hauling the buckets toward the bathroom. I pour the warm water into the tub.

I slip out quickly and let them undress.

They call out when ready, and I return to find the bath quickly turning into a water fight. By the time the water gets cold, I'm partially soaked.

I lift them out, dry them quickly, and brush their hair, ruffling it gently. "I think you guys need a haircut soon." I say, running my fingers through Ciel's hair.

They say nothing, and I shake my head.

Ciel picks an outfit while Fenian goes back to get his. He meets us again in Ciel's room holding his clothes. I'm halfway through tying the bow on Ciel's shirt.

It only takes fifteen minutes total to get them dressed.

0o0o0o0o0o

Night cools the air sharply, biting my cheeks.

The boys are tucked in bed, and the rest of the day passes quietly. Vincent called me to his study not long ago, so I'm on my way there.

I stifle a yawn, craving my blankets and sleep.

I knock on Vincent's door; he calls my name.

Inside, he stands by the window, gazing at the nightlife.

"Did you need me for something, Vincent?" I ask, sitting in a chair by his desk.

He chuckles softly. "I've been thinking, Rina." He turns toward me, his lips pressed into a small frown, serious.

I stiffen, losing some of my ease. "What is it?" I lean forward.

"You may not like what I'm about to say, but it's only a suggestion. So please, bear with me." He clasps his hands on the desk. My leg jitters with nerves as I nod.

"How do you feel about leaving the manor?" His tone is calm, eyes unreadable.

Mine widen in shock. "What—What do you mean?" I stammer.

He sighs deeply. "I know you've been here a while. Not that I don't appreciate it—we all love you here. It's just…I thought you might enjoy some free time for yourself. To live your own life. You're still so young, Rina."

I furrow my brow, confused and stunned. "But you know I don't mind it. I'm not sure I could live alone out there by myself. I'd miss everyone so much. Just thinking about it makes my heart shake."

He smiles warmly. "I know. It was only an offer, and I want you to know you have the option. I want you to be happy, truly."

His words touch me deeply, almost bringing tears. A shaky smile tugs at my lips. "Thank you, really. I understand what you mean."

He keeps smiling but grows serious again, leaning closer.

"What is it?" I ask, wary.

"As you know, I am the Queen's Watchdog, and this manor is under constant threat. I believe in a few years, a great danger will target my family. If you choose to stay, I want you to take fighting lessons—not just for yourself, but for the boys as well. I need someone to protect them at all costs."

I spring to my feet. "Vincent, you know I would protect those kids with everything I have. They're like brothers. I'll gladly take lessons!" I declare, reverence and excitement rising.

Vincent smirks at my enthusiasm. "I'm glad to hear that, Rina."

But then his expression darkens. "There's one thing you must accept to proceed."

Curious, I raise my eyebrows. "What is it?"

His eyes turn cold and ominous—an expression I've only seen a few times here, never good.

He approaches, locking eyes with me. "You must kill someone. To prove you can do this. They need a protector who can kill if necessary."

I freeze, stunned. It's logical, but hearing it aloud makes my stomach turn.

Could I really kill? What would everyone think?

I feel sick.

"Um, I—I can try—" I stammer, but he interrupts gently.

He places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. "Rina, that's why I gave you a choice. Take your time to think it over. This isn't easy. Be honest with me when you decide."

I nod quietly, unsure what to say.

"Thanks, goodnight." I curtsey, and he releases my shoulder.

He replies with a quiet farewell, and I close the study door behind me. Pressing my back to it, I feel lost.

This is no simple task.

No shit.

I head back to my room, thoughts heavy. I know the Phantomhive family's horrors—the title's a burden itself.

Passing the twins' rooms, my gaze lingers on Ciel's door.

I open it softly, careful not to squeak. Light spills in from the hallway, revealing Ciel asleep beneath the covers.

The burden's beginning to pass on.

I'm no fool—I've seen how he receives his 'special' lessons.

His chest rises and falls steadily, blankets shifting with each breath.

He's protecting Fenian in more ways than one.

I close the door quietly, then glance at Fenian's door with a deep, aching sorrow.

Fenian's no stranger to being left out—on more levels than one.

Chapter Text

The rising sun blares through my closed eyelids, determined I must wake up this early—a personal reminder to exercise. I shuffle out of bed, exhaustion clinging like a shadow. The daunting sun delivers its usual sickness: Rise and Shine.

Sitting up, I trudge to my dresser and grab my cloth shorts and shirt. Changing out of my nightgown is easy, then I head to the bathroom for the usual routine.

Finished, I grab my gray cloak to cover my legs and arms from any early risers. Before these twenty-first-century clothes, I'd stumbled on people in awkward moments. Lesson learned—I tie the cloak's front shut and step out, slow and still half-asleep.

It's only six a.m., after all.

I yawn and race down the foyer stairs.

Usually, I exit through the back doors to avoid servants.

Heading that way, I'm glad to see no one about. Many know I take early "walks," but the thrill of sneaking out still sends a rush through me—a shiver of excitement.

At the back door, I slowly crack it open and peek outside. No one in sight. I slip out and close it behind me, quickening my pace toward the woods.

At the tree line, I shrug off the cloak and hang it on a low branch for later. People think running in heels or fancy shoes is impossible. I once bought cloth shoes at the market—they're way comfier. No support, but easy to move in.

I'd give anything for tennis shoes. The amount I walk is ridiculous—expected in this era, though.

Cracking my neck, I start jogging into the woods. Surprisingly, after a year of practice, I can jog a long time. Maybe if I accept Vincent's offer, my stamina won't suffer so much.

Vincent's offer. I've thought about it a lot these last few days.

Breathing out a sigh, I pick up speed, legs moving faster. The biggest worry: how will the twins react? Proud? Disgusted? Happy? The endless questions churn inside.

I'm not a killer—just soft-hearted, willing to do anything to protect those I love.

A frown tugs at my lips. Maybe I should ask the twins—subtly, of course. Deciding that's best, I take a left turn on my run. If they don't object, I'll give Vincent's mission my best.

Why else would he suggest it?

Determined, I sprint, running different scenarios in my head—how to bring it up to them.

0o0o0o0o0o

By the time I reach the back door, I'm drenched in sweat. Legs and arms limp from pushing too hard. I overshot my usual time limit—starting the day late now. Huffing, I wrench the door open and slump inside.

The noise of servants rushing tells me how long I've been gone. I check my pocket watch tucked in my cloak pocket—7:22.

My eyes widen in panic. I race to the main foyer, whisk past servants without a second thought, bolt upstairs three steps at a time, and dash to one of the twins' doors.

I open Ciel's quickly, but he's not inside.

Dread fills me as I gulp air from the sprint. I'm sweating more, cloak still on. Who woke them? If it was Rachel—-I'm due a long lecture.

"Rina?"

I squeak and whirl around to see Fenian, wide-eyed. I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm my pounding heart.

"Oh my god, Fenian, don't scare me like that." I warn.

He smiles sheepishly and steps closer. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

I nod, tossing him a smile. "I should apologize. I lost track of time. Who woke you guys?"

He tugs my cloak and frowns at my shoes. "The head maid, Ester. Sis, why are you wearing cloth shoes?"

I sweatdrop and flash a big fake grin. "Uh, I suppose they're more comfortable." I shrug—not exactly lying.

Before he can ask more, I cut him off. "Hey, I need to talk to you and Ciel privately. It's important. Can you fetch him and meet me in my bedroom?"

Fenian shakes his head. "We have lessons soon, remember?"

I smack my forehead, feeling dumb. Being late threw me off. "Oh, yeah. I forgot."

A headache blooms near my temple.

I sigh heavily. Fenian watches with concern. "Are you sick, sis?"

Shaking my head, I pat his head teasingly, messing up his hair. "I don't think so, but I promise to monitor myself." I smile reassuringly.

He giggles and nods. "Mhm! I gotta go now. I'll tell Ciel about meeting you later!"

He waves and runs off. I smile and leave Ciel's room too.

I should probably change, I think, heading quietly to my room. The head maid probably isn't happy with me—not that she usually has a problem. If anything, she seems thrilled I'm working more for her—which causes me great happiness. Sarcasm intended.

It takes longer to reach my room. I close the door quietly behind me. No time to bathe, sweat clings uncomfortably to my skin. Feeling gross, I wipe down with a dry towel to feel cleaner.

I quickly change into my maid dress and brush my windblown, wavy brown hair falling below my shoulders. I used to have it short, but Racheal nagged me until I gave in.

Rolling my eyes at the memory, I close my door and head out to find the head maid to apologize. She holds my chore list.

I find her quickly—she's mad, but I soothe her with a promise to take extra chores. She agrees without hesitation.

So here I stand, cleaning nearly every window upstairs in dull boredom. My arms ache from running, pain growing slowly. I don't want to know how bad it'll get if I accept Vincent's request.

Groaning, I dip the cloth in soapy water again. My hair tied back, sleeves rolled up as far as possible.

The dress makes me sweat more—it's basically an insulator.

What would really pass the time is good music. I want to lie and say I love classical all day, but let's be real—once you've tasted twenty-first-century tunes, it's hard to give them up. Besides, I've listened to classical music since I was young. I mean, I love violin and piano as much as the next person, but the patterns get tiring.

I try to think of a fun song to sing while working. I remember catchy lyrics from my favorites. I almost snort at one and realize how much it fits me.

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality..."

I sing out loud, trying not to laugh.

Good ol' Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. I belt it out without care, lost in the words. Can't remember the last time I sang. It feels good—brings back memories.

Smiling, I sing full throttle, hitting all the notes.

I move window to window, switching songs each time I finish one. I hear the instruments and find myself dancing wildly, like in music videos. I roam between rooms, and before I know it, a song is stuck in my head and I'm done with the last window.

I pull out my pocket watch—1:32.

Not bad, I think dryly.

I drop the soaked cloth into the bucket with relief. Stretching, I crack my back and grab the bucket's handle, hurrying outside to empty it.

Once done, I set the bucket in a cleaning closet. The head maid didn't assign anything else today, knowing this would keep me busy. I finished earlier than expected.

I head to the laundry room for water for an afternoon bath. I feel nasty and wonder if I smell from all the running.

Smiling, I grab hot water from the mini-boiler and practically pace to my bedroom. The buckets' weight makes my arms scream, hands ache from scrubbing. I ignore the pain, huffing upstairs.

Finally in the servant wash room, I set down the buckets. The bath is relaxing—a nice break for my muscles.

0o0o0o0o

About two hours later, a knock sounds at my bedroom door. Confused, I drop the Victorian romance novel I'm nose-deep in and slide off the bed.

Cracking the door, I peek out—no one. Until I look down.

Two tiny heads: Ciel and Fenian stand side by side, looking up like the politest troublemakers imaginable.

I blink, surprised, then open the door fully. "Oh…hey, guys. Done with your lessons already?"

They walk in without hesitation, small grins tugging at their lips.

"Yes. They were dreadfully dull." Ciel sighs dramatically.

I chuckle. "How terrible. My condolences."

A pout tugs at his mouth.

Fenian giggles behind his hand. "They were kind of boring."

Shutting the door, I pad to my bed. I mark my place and set the book on the nightstand.

"Did Fenian tell you what I wanted to talk about?" I ask, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

They join me, knees folded beneath them.

"He did," Ciel says. "What's going on?"

My chest tightens. This is it.

"I need you to take this seriously," I say, meeting their eyes. "What I'm about to ask is important—more than anything I've ever talked to you about."

Their faces straighten, tension quieting their usual mischief.

"We understand." Ciel says calmly. Fenian nods, suddenly solemn.

I swallow hard. "Let's say I have the chance to learn how to fight. To protect you. But…there's a price. A dangerous one."

I watch Ciel's expression falter, eyebrows knitting. Fenian stares through me like reading my soul.

"It could come down to life or death," I continue, quieter now. "And if I did something—something bad—just to keep you safe…would you hate me for it?"

Silence.

Ciel's eyes drop, deep in thought. Fenian's stare sharpens. For a second, I wonder if he already knows.

They're not dumb. They'd figure out what I mean.

At least Ciel would anyway…

After a beat, Fenian's eyes flick back to mine. A huge grin breaks across his face, bright and blinding.

He reaches out, clasping my hand between his smaller ones.

"Rina, I love you. That won't ever change. I'd be proud if you tried to fight for us."

My throat burns. Tears prick my eyes, but I hold them back.

Glancing at Ciel, he still looks pensive—but his voice is soft.

"I…agree with Fenian. But…why you? Why not a bodyguard?"

Fair question.

"I think your father chose me because he trusts me," I say, blinking away the sting. "I've been taking care of you since diapers, remember? Who else would fight harder?"

Ciel considers, then nods. "That makes sense. Well then…I believe in you, sis. You've got this."

That nearly shatters me.

Sniffling, I raise a fist. "Then I'll do it! I'll protect you with everything I've got. I love you both so much!"

They barely react before I pull them into a hug, laughing through the pressure in my chest.

They laugh too, soft and warm. I kiss the tops of their heads, heart pounding with relief, love, and something heavier underneath.

No matter what it takes…I'll keep them alive. Even if it costs me everything.

I let go, stand, and roll out my shoulders like I'm about to sprint into battle.

"I'm going to talk to your father before I chicken out. Wish me luck!" I grin and bolt from the room, nerves crackling under my skin like lightning.

Every step down the hall fills me with more resolve.

When I reach Vincent's study, I raise a fist and knock—then wait.

Nothing.

Frowning, I slowly push the door open and peek inside.

Vincent's asleep, slumped in his chair, hand propping his head, pen loose in his fingers. Dark circles make his exhaustion plain.

My heart squeezes.

Slipping in, I close the door softly and pad to him. The poor man hasn't had decent sleep in days.

I reach out and shake his arm lightly.

His eyes snap open, alarmed. He whips his head toward me so fast I nearly jump back. The tension vanishes the second he sees me.

"Rina," he exhales, sinking back in the chair.

"Geez, Vincent. Are you okay?" I ask, brows furrowed.

He nods, avoiding my eyes. "Yes. Didn't realize I'd fallen asleep."

I squeeze his shoulder. "Bad dream?"

Something flickers. "Perhaps. But I'm alright. Did you need something?"

Crossing my arms, I steady myself. "Yeah. About your offer. I've made my decision."

His eyes widen. "Already? I thought you'd need more time."

"I was going to," I admit. "But I know now. I'm in. I'll do it—I'll train, and I'll protect them."

His face softens into a smile. It startles me.

"Good. You'll start next Monday."

I freeze. "W-What?! You're not even gonna ask why?"

He stands, walks over, smirks. "I didn't need to. I already knew what you'd choose."

He pats my head gently. "Thank you, Rina."

My cheeks flush. I squirm under the rare affection. "Vincent! Don't be sappy."

Laughing, he returns to his seat. But something about his calmness feels…suspicious.

"Hey, Vincent," I say slowly. "Who's training me?"

He grins like he knows something I don't.

"The Midford family has kindly agreed to take you in for training."

I swear the color drains from my face.

"NO. No, no, no! You can't send me to them! I'll die, Vincent, you sadist!"

He chuckles, utterly unbothered by my impending death.

I stagger back like I've been cursed, staring at him in horror. I'm gonna get skewered before I even reach their front gate. No way am I being trained by them. While they're sweet enough, this is the Midfords we're talking about!

I can't decide whether I want to cry or have some spiritual awakening.

Vincent just smirks, fully aware he's signed my death warrant.

Ah, hell. Why did I say yes again?

0o0o0o0o

I grunt, swinging at my opponent. They dodge with ease—reading me before I even commit—and I stumble forward, landing hard on my knees. My arms catch the impact, breath coming fast and uneven.

The clink of a helmet coming off draws my eyes upward.

Lady Elizabeth stands over me, smiling, and offers her hand. I grab it gratefully, tossing her a weak smile.

"You're doing good." Elizabeth says cheerfully, pulling me up.

I sigh, frustrated. "You and I both know I suck at this. It's been three weeks, and I can barely get the basics down."

My frown deepens, irritation gnawing at me.

I pull off my helmet, my wavy brown hair spilling out as I shake it loose.

Elizabeth frowns slightly. "Rina, it takes time to master the techniques. Don't give up." she encourages.

I tilt my head, conceding a nod. "I suppose that's true. Still can't believe you're this good at your age."

Elizabeth beams. "My family praises me a lot. But I'm no expert."

"Don't worry. You're young, you've got everything ahead of you. There's so much to learn in life—it all takes time." I try to sound encouraging.

Her eyes widen, shining a little with wonder. "I never really thought of it that way. Thanks, Rina!"

"Shall we keep sparring?" I ask, a flicker of motivation returning.

She nods, slipping her helmet back on. I do the same.

We step into position again—foils raised—and start.

I lose. Again. Every single match. It's honestly the last thing I expected.

She's a fencing genius, and I can't help but feel a flicker of envy. But that's the Midford blood for you.

It's been four weeks now.

I've been living at the Midford estate ever since I left the Phantomhive manor to train. The twins were heartbroken. Fenian especially—he was furious. Didn't even say goodbye.

Vincent sent me a letter later, saying Fenian wouldn't stop crying. Said he begged for me to come back.

Ciel handled it better. Or at least, he looked like he did.

Their love stays with me. It weighs on me. But I have a duty. I can't abandon it.

Training is brutal. Being away from home sucks.

After the match with Elizabeth, I trudge toward the guest bedroom they've given me. It's tucked in the servant's wing, but I'm grateful. Elizabeth even convinced her mother to let me stay here so I could rest properly.

Bless that girl's heart—she's so right. After every session, I feel like roadkill.

I yawn as I push my bedroom door open and drag myself inside. My shoes and long socks are the first to go—tossed across the room like I'm punishing them.

Turning to the mirror, I untie my high ponytail, my face flushed and sticky with sweat. My muscles burn more with each passing day.

Honestly, I miss jogging. Compared to this fencing hell, it was bliss.

Too tired to fetch my own bathwater, I flag down a servant in the hallway. "Could you get me some water?"

They flatly tell me to get it myself. Fair.

I bribe them with a few coins. Suddenly, they're all smiles. A few minutes later, they return with steaming buckets. I take them and shut the door with my foot.

Guilt tugs at me, but my body hurts. Training wrecked me.

I step into the bathroom and dump the water into the tub, steam instantly fogging the air. It warms my cheeks.

Peeling off my fencing uniform, I slide into the bath without hesitation.

Leaning back against the rim, I let out a long, broken sigh. The warmth wraps around me, loosening the tightness in my shoulders.

I duck my head underwater—my dark brown hair fans out, floating like silk across my chest. I comb my fingers through the strands, working out knots.

Lathering shampoo into my scalp, I trail it down my hair. The heat makes my vision blur; I feel drowsy.

I dunk again, rinsing the soap out, then surface with a quiet gasp.

The bath doesn't last long. I crawl into bed soon after and pass out almost instantly.

0o0o0o0o

Two months pass…

I've improved. Elizabeth says I'm a tougher opponent now. Her mother even tested me—said I'm doing well. My body feels stronger. My muscles are toned.

But I still hold back. Around Elizabeth. Around everyone.

Brute strength isn't the same as skill.

Once, I accidentally hit Elizabeth too hard. She flew back three feet, landed flat on her butt.

I winced. Told her it was luck. She seemed to believe it…but she looked shaken.

I hate that. I hate how easy it is to hurt someone.

Now, I sit in a carriage on my way to the Phantomhive country house for the Season. Green fields blur past the window, and I can't help bouncing in my seat.

It's been so long. I miss them terribly.

They don't know I'm coming. I want it to be a surprise.

The ride drags forever. I slump against the seat, forcing myself to stay patient.

Finally, we arrive.

Before the door fully opens, I leap out and bound up the steps.

I knock rapidly. The coachman lags behind with my luggage, probably cursing me under his breath. Whatever.

The door swings open. Tanaka stands there, smiling like he always does.

I grin. "Old man! It's been a while."

Caught off guard, he chuckles and hugs me. "Rina, I missed you at the manor."

He pulls away. "Here, let me get your luggage."

I glance back. The carriage is already gone. Tanaka lifts the bags without complaint, and I follow him inside, heart pounding.

The townhouse hasn't changed. The same portraits. The same polished wood. This place…it's where Vincent first brought me.

"Is everyone here?" I ask, barely hearing anything but the staff in motion.

"My lord and young master Fenian are here. The others are out in town," Tanaka says as we walk. He stops at Vincent's study. "I'll take this to your room."

He walks off, and I knock lightly—then push the door open.

Vincent doesn't look up.

"What is it? I'm busy." he grumbles, pen scrawling over paper.

I pout. "Wow. I thought you'd be happy to see me."

His head lifts, eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Rina? What are you doing here?" He sets his pen down.

I smirk. "I convinced the Midfords to give me a short break."

It took begging. And extra training hours. But I made it happen.

His smile is genuine. "You look stronger, healthier than last time."

I slump into the chair with a groan. "They cut off my chocolate cake supply. Not fair."

He chuckles. "You and that cake—so spoiled."

I glare. "Hmph."

"Tanaka said Fenian's here. How's he holding up?"

Vincent sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Those boys have been a handful. Fenian especially, like I said in my last letter."

I cross my arms. "Still a nuisance? I told you this would happen. They are more spoiled than you claim I am. But did you listen? Nooo."

He glares. "Are you telling me how to raise my children?"

I freeze. His serious face could rival Lady Francis herself.

I spring up with a nervous grin. "Me? Tell you what to do? Never, my lord. Excuse me."

I slip out, closing the door behind me, and exhale hard.

He seemed more amused than angry, but still. Yikes.

As I walk down the hall, I smile at the old paintings that once fascinated me.

Speaking of kids—I need to find Fenian and Ciel. I miss those little brats.

I head to the second floor, to Fenian's room. I knock softly, then peek in.

He's reading on his bed, not even looking up.

"I told you, no interruptions." he grumbles.

I bite back a laugh. "Well, if you say so." I start to turn.

His book hits the floor. His head snaps up. "Rina!?"

I grin. "Hey, sport. Miss me?"

He stares, then bolts from the bed. I kneel just in time for the bear hug. His little arms wrap around me tight.

He sniffles into my shoulder. "You're back."

I nuzzle his hair, my own throat tight. "I'm back."

I rub his back gently, humming to soothe the hiccups.

A few minutes later, he pulls away, glaring at me with puffy eyes and a pout.

"What?" I ask, amused.

He crosses his arms. "You left us. Me."

I sigh, already knowing what this is.

I lift his chin, gently. "Fenian, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. Your father made me leave fast."

His glare softens—but not completely.

I plead, "I'm really sorry. Please forgive me."

He gives in not long after. I almost laugh.

"Fine, I forgive you," he mutters, arms dropping. His face relaxes. "Please don't leave me like that again. I missed you too much."

I nod, smiling softly. I kiss his forehead. "I won't, swear. I missed you too, kiddo. Along with everybody else."

He beams, brighter now. "Can I fill you in on what has happened since you have been gone?"

"Please do."

Fenian launches into a long spiel about his classes, the guests who've come to the manor, and everything I've missed.

And I listen, heart finally full again, as we wait for Racheal and Ciel to come home.

0o0o0o0o

Walking down the stairs with Fenian clutching my hand, we reach the front entry just as Racheal, Ciel, and Vincent gather by the door.

Fenian lets go without hesitation and bolts toward them, beaming.

"Mother! Brother! Look! Rina's back!" he shouts, pointing dramatically up at me.

Ciel and Racheal whip around, eyes wide in matching surprise.

Racheal speaks first, perfectly composed—at least on the surface. "My, what a surprise. We had no idea you were visiting."

I step off the last stair, posture straight, smile easy. "Ah, yes. Well, I came to surprise on purpose." I reply, watching the polite veneer slip slightly as her mouth twists into mild disapproval.

"Rina, it's a bit rude to arrive uninformed. At least, a bit unladylike in the sort." Rachel scolds, sharp and refined.

Every fiber in my body begs to roll my eyes, but I restrain myself. Barely. "It's nice to see you too, my Lady." I mutter just loud enough for her to hear.

Before I can recover, I feel small arms wrap tightly around my waist.

I glance down to find Ciel clinging to me, his eyes wet.

Oh—

I soften immediately, heart twisting at the sight. Smiling, I ruffle his hair. "Hey, bud. Been a little while, hasn't it?"

He nods, saying nothing, just holding on.

Racheal clears her throat, disapproving gaze cutting into me. "It is a nice change to see you back, I admit."

That catches me off guard. I blink, stunned.

She looks away almost instantly and walks off, calling Vincent to follow her as she saunters down the hall.

I watch them go, uncertain what just happened, then shake my head and pry Ciel's arms gently from around my waist, instead taking his hand.

Fenian's face pinches at the sight, and without a word, he grabs my other hand.

I blink at him, confused by the sudden possessiveness, but brush it off.

"Now, how about we go find some sweets?" I ask brightly, swinging their hands.

"Yes!" they shout in unison, practically dragging me forward.

I laugh at their perfect coordination. "Sounds good to me."

We head to the kitchen, and the moment we step in, the smell of warm cinnamon and sugar hits me.

A fresh apple pie cools on the counter. Unguarded.

The three of us lock eyes.

And we pounce.

Sticky fingers. Fast forks. No mercy.

"Sis, how's training?" Ciel asks, licking his lips between bites.

I flop back in my chair with a dramatic sigh, stabbing a chunk of apple. "Ugh, don't even get me started. It's exhausting, but I'll admit—it's fun to learn."

They exchange the most ridiculous matching "awe" faces I've ever seen. I cackle.

"What are you learning?!" Fenian asks, eyes shining.

I grin, hoisting my fork like a blade. "I'm being trained in the sword!" I declare, slamming the utensil down for dramatic effect.

I stand tall on the chair, striking a pose like a victorious knight.

"The art of the sword is difficult," I boom, one foot perched theatrically, "but one day I shall slay all that stands in my way!"

Their laughter explodes. Ciel bangs the table, face red, tears forming from how hard he's laughing.

"Will you join me on this journey, my young masters?!" I cry, channeling full melodrama.

Fenian springs up, wielding his invisible blade. "I'm ready!" he shrieks, giggling.

Ciel follows with equal enthusiasm, eyes blazing with make-believe valor.

And just as our imaginary war reaches its peak, the chef walks in.

He stops cold.

"My pie?!" he gasps, looking at the half-destroyed pastry.

All three of us freeze mid-battle, like criminals caught mid-crime.

Wide-eyed. Forks in hand. Crumbs everywhere.

Deer. Headlights. Guilt.

Oops.

Chapter Text

For the past couple of days, the twins have stuck to me like glue. Aside from their lessons, they've tried their best to stay close. While it's sweet, it's also slightly annoying. Having not seen them in months, I expected a bit of distance—but no, it's been full attachment mode.

I still love them, of course. It's hard not to.

I'm in my old room, finishing a letter to the Midford family to let them know I've arrived safely. Lady Midford seems to have developed a soft spot for me—not that I'm complaining. It's made her slightly more lenient with training.

And by slightly, I mean barely, but it's something.

I sign my name in cursive at the bottom, the elegant script I learned while growing up here.

A small smile tugs at my lips. I fold the paper, seal the envelope, and drip wax onto the flap. Pressing the stamp in, I leave behind a small bird-shaped imprint. Birds are my favorite animal.

I used to befriend a massive crow when I was little—back in the future. It freaked my mom out so badly, she banned me from ever going near it again. Something about bad omens.

Giggling softly, I stand and leave the room with the letter in hand.

Descending the stairs, I begin the hunt for Tanaka. This townhouse is much smaller than the manor, so it shouldn't take long. I check the kitchen first and—bingo—Tanaka sits at the servant's table with a teacup in hand.

Smiling, I cross the room and sit across from him.

Pouring myself a cup of Earl Grey, I inhale the scent and sigh with mild contentment. It's not coffee, but it's comforting. Starbucks haunts my dreams.

Tanaka looks up at me kindly. "Good afternoon, Rina."

"Back at you, old man," I reply, blowing on the tea before sipping. It's delicious, as always. "Tea's good as ever, Tanaka."

"Why thank you, Rina."

I set my cup down and slide the letter toward him. "Say, could you deliver this next time mail goes out?"

He accepts it, inspecting the address with a smile. "Ah, I see. Yes, I shall."

"Thanks, Tanaka." I say, draining the rest of my tea and rising.

"Oh Rina, one more thing." he stops me gently.

I pause. "Yes?"

"We'll be hosting many guests today. My lord asks that you keep an eye on the boys so they don't cause a scene."

"Right. On it. Leave it to me, Gramps!"

He smiles. "Thank you."

Leaving the kitchen, I begin my search for the rascals. Several servants give vague directions, but one finally says they saw them in their parents' bedroom. I thank them and head that way.

At the door, I knock lightly.

"Come in." Rachel calls.

Suppressing a sigh, I push open the door and curtsey politely. "My lady."

"Ah, Rina. I was wondering where you were." she says while fussing with her hair. Her head maid stands ready nearby.

The boys spring up from the bed, beaming. "Sis!"

I smile. "Hello, boys."

Racheal tuts. "Rina, I believe I've told you to call them 'young masters,' have I not?"

My temple pulses. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes, my lady. I apologize for the slip."

She finally turns to look at me, smug. "They are above you. Proper titles should be used, especially by a maid. But I am benevolent and accept your apology." She pauses. "However, you'll be helping the gardener later. He's planting rose bushes. Reflect on your mistake while you dig."

My hands curl into fists. "Yes, my lady."

She smiles coldly. Rachel gets like this sometimes. More often than I'd like. She wasn't always this bitter—not to me. Somewhere along the way, something changed. It's like she resents me, but can't let me go.

A quiet war only I seem to be drafted into.

The twins exchange worried glances. I swallow a lump in my throat.

"My lady, may I speak with you privately?"

She nods and sends the boys and maid out. Once the room is empty, she rises. "Say what you must."

Nervously tugging my fingers, I steel my gaze. "Why do you resent me so deeply? What have I done to earn this from you?"

She scoffs. "Resent? I find your entire presence dissatisfactory."

I blink. "It wasn't always like this. I don't understand."

She steps closer, eyes sharp. "It's always about you. I hear your name constantly. From my husband, my sons, the servants. Rina this, Rina that."

She grabs a lock of my hair, lifting it delicately. "They adore you."

Then—without warning—she yanks my head to the side. I cry out softly, neck exposed. My pulse spikes.

"I-I never meant any harm, my l-lady."

She cackles. "Harm? Please. I still have control. But I regret one thing above all—letting you into this household."

Stunned, I stare at her. That jealousy—so raw, it almost disgusts me. My anger surges. I grip her wrist and pry her hand from my hair. My strength overpowers hers.

"I'm sorry. For whatever it is you believe I've done. But I deserve to be treated with decency. I may be a maid, but I'm still human."

We stand, locked in a silent standoff. She doesn't flinch.

"I doubt your sympathy," she mutters. "You caused all of this."

"I didn't! I treat people how I feel they deserve to be treated. I can't control others' affection." I step back. "It's not my fault they love me."

Her face twists. "Watch your tongue! I run this household. You're lucky I haven't demoted you—or thrown you out entirely!"

"Why don't you?!" I shout. "You've had every chance!"

She raises her hand to slap me—but I'm ready. I catch it mid-air. She winces as I tighten my grip. Our eyes lock.

"If I did, they'd all hate me!" she screams, tears breaking loose. Her body crumples, sinking to the floor. "This is all your fault!"

I stare, numb, as she weeps. Hands shielding her face.

She doesn't hate me. She envies me. She's hurt, lonely—outshined in her own home.

I tear up.

"Blame me all you want," I whisper, voice trembling. "But you're using me as your excuse. I'm sorry you're hurting. But this...this isn't the way to fix it."

I back away, hand fumbling for the doorknob. Her sobs follow me out.

I close the door behind me and lean against it, tears sliding down my face. My hand covers my trembling mouth.

I make my way back to my room in silence.

This wasn't my fault. I have to believe that. But still...I hope one day she speaks to Vincent. Gets help. Because I can't fix this.

And if it's selfish to want peace after all this, then so be it.

0o0o0o0o

I don't have much time to recover. I've got to watch the twins before the guests arrive, or Vincent will give me hell.

Tracking them down takes longer than I'd like. Eventually, the head maid sneers and points to the greenhouse.

Sighing, I head there—and find the boys peeking behind a curtain.

Curious, I sneak up and peek too. Vincent and Diedrich are chatting at a nearby table.

Diedrich glances toward our hiding spot. "Hey! Sons of Phantomhive, no need to be afraid. It's not like I'm going to eat you..."

Ciel's eyes brighten. "You heard him! Let's go!"

He dashes out. Fenian hesitates.

Vincent lifts Ciel into his lap. "They're only scared because you always look so angry."

"But I'm not!"

"I know. You're kind. Reliable." Vincent smiles, running a hand through Ciel's hair.

"What's with the compliments?"

"That's why I'm sure...if something ever happens to me, you'll help them. Right?"

Diedrich looks serious. "Is that an order?"

"More of a request."

"You think you'll die before me?"

Vincent chuckles. "Who knows? The future's uncertain. Even God can't track everything."

His gaze flickers—lands on me. I freeze.

"That's why...I'm counting on you."

Ciel raises his hand. "Countin' on you! Thanks! No idea what for though!"

I smile faintly. He's so much like his father.

Diedrich huffs. "A brazen little one."

Then his gaze shifts. "Hey! You, the other one!"

Fenian stiffens. I bite my lip.

"As the younger, you should learn from your older brother. You won't inherit title or land. One day, you'll need to make your own way."

My anger returns—burning hotter than before. How dare he speak to a child like that?

Vincent deflects. "Oh Diedrich, they're only seven."

I tune out the rest. Fenian turns and bolts—right into me.

I steady him gently, placing my hands on his shoulders. He looks up, startled. I press a finger to my lips.

He nods, then runs.

"Fenian!" I whisper, chasing after him.

I see him turn the corner and sprint after him—only to watch Fenian run smack into a tall figure. He topples backward with a thud, landing hard on his backside.

I gasp. "Fenian!" I rush to his side.

He whimpers, rubbing his eye. "I'm sorry..."

Standing above him is none other than Undertaker, his signature Cheshire grin already stretched across his lips. "Oh my, who do we have here…" he croons, his gloved hands steepled together as he leans forward. "Well, if it isn't the little Phantomhive." His voice lilts with amusement.

I drop to Fenian's level, my concern overriding everything else. "Are you okay?" I ask softly.

He stares at me with wide, tear-filled eyes, trembling so hard his teeth chatter. I sigh and open my arms. He launches into them without hesitation.

"I've got you." I whisper, standing with him in my arms. His small fingers clutch the fabric of my dress.

Undertaker cackles at me, pointing lazily. "Well, well, isn't it the lost little girl?"

I shake my head, slightly amused. "Long time no see, Undertaker."

He chuckles again.

"Oh! There you are!" Ciel's voice rings out behind us.

I turn at the sound, smiling in relief. Ciel jogs up, reaching for his brother and tugging his arm. "Don't just leave without me, geez..."

Before Fenian can answer, another figure appears—plaid suit, camera case, too much enthusiasm.

"Oh! It's Mr. Vin's little twins!" the man exclaims. "First time I've seen you both in the same place!"

I blink at him before recognition settles in. "Oh? Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Newspaper Reporter." Undertaker greets with a dramatic wave.

I snap my fingers, memory clicking into place. "Pleasant to see you again." I say, giving him a polite curtsey with an arm full of Fenian.

"You're quite chipper this morning." Undertaker teases, watching the reporter beam.

The reporter opens his case and pulls out an old retro camera. My jaw drops.

"This beauty cost me a pretty penny," he says, practically glowing. "One of Mr. Vin's completed case stories sold for more than I expected! So—I splurged."

He lifts it toward us. I lean in, touching the metal lightly, eyes wide with awe. "It's beautiful." I murmur.

"I know, right?" he says. "Hey, how about a picture of the twins? I need to test it out—and it'd be great for the memories!"

I clap my hands. "Truly, a splendid idea."

"But I..." Fenian mumbles.

Before I can respond, Ciel grabs his hand. "Let's take a picture together!" he grins.

Fenian softens. "…Okay."

We move into a nearby room, quickly setting up. Undertaker and the reporter help position things while I search the room, eventually finding a designer blanket.

"How about this for a backdrop?" I ask, holding it up.

"That'll do," the reporter nods. "Undertaker, could you hold it?"

"Me? ~" he hums, but takes it without protest, stepping behind the twins to hold it up.

I adjust the boys' collars and smooth their hair. Just as I back away, Fenian glances at me. "Can you join us, sis?" he asks, lips puckered in a little pout.

I smile but shake my head. "I want this to be a special photo of just the two of you."

He sighs but nods.

"All right, give me a smile—yes, that's the ticket!" the reporter calls, lining up the shot. "Mr. Undertaker, a bit more to the right!"

The boys hold their poses, smiling through the strain. I stand nearby, proud and quietly watching.

"Taking it now!" the reporter shouts.

Just then, Ciel moves fast—grabbing my hand and yanking me into the shot. I stumble forward, arms falling around their shoulders.

They're giggling. I'm scowling. The flash goes off.

Too late.

The camera captures it—every crooked grin and flash of mischief. These brats. The things I do for them.

0o0o0o0o0o

I take the steps two at a time, heading toward Vincent's study. A servant told me he wanted to speak with me, and I'm guessing it's about my return to the Midfords. My time here is already almost up.

At the door, I knock.

"Come in." Vincent says.

I slip inside and shut the door behind me. "Uh, you called?"

He's turned away, seated at his desk, facing the window. One hand clenches the armrest tightly. A long pause stretches before he turns, steepling his fingers beneath his mouth now. His expression is unreadable—but serious.

"Rina, you will be staying here for a while longer."

I blink, caught off guard. "What? Why?"

He exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It seems I miscalculated my foes. I believed we had a few years...but now, it looks like mere months."

My stomach drops. "B-But Vincent, you never get this kind of thing wrong."

His eyes snap open—sharp, angry. "It appears I've been fed false information." he grits out. His fists clench against the desk.

I pale, running a hand through my hair. "Holy shit..."

"I need you here, Rina."

I meet his gaze, nodding slowly. "You know I'll stay. Count on me. I've got some fighting experience—not expert level, but enough."

His shoulders ease just slightly. He leans forward and takes my hand. "I appreciate it—your sincerity and trust."

I squeeze back. "Well, I'd hope so. Is there a plan for the boys?"

"If you manage to get them out, go to the Midfords. They've agreed to help. Stay out of sight. Move quietly."

"And if I can't go with them?"

"Tell them exactly what I told you. Head straight to the Midfords."

I nod, heart heavy. "I'll try my best, Vincent. But...who's behind this?"

He frowns, gaze darkening as he stares past me. "Assuming my acquaintances are correct—I may know the culprit. But I can't risk saying. I won't endanger you like that. Please understand."

"Okay...yeah. Got it."

I start to rise when he stops me again.

"And, Rina…"

"Yes?"

"Please stay close to my sons. They'll need someone to guide them through this darkness. I trust you more than anyone to do that. Can you promise—if not for me, then for the Phantomhive family?"

His words hit me like a blow. My throat tightens. "For all you've given me throughout my life...I'd be honored to fulfill your wish, my lord."

A soft smile touches his lips. He stands—and then, instead of shaking my hand, he pulls me into an embrace.

I freeze.

His arm wraps securely around me, drawing me close. I hesitate…then hug him back.

"V-Vincent..." I whisper.

"Ssh...I know I'm asking a lot. But I worry for you, too—not just them."

My hands tremble. A hiccup escapes, and I start crying into his chest. I clutch his jacket, fear clawing its way into my ribs.

None of them deserve to die. Not the boys. Not Vincent. Not even Rachel.

"I—I lo—" I start, but a knock at the door interrupts.

I quickly pull away, scrubbing tears from my eyes. Vincent stares at me, stunned. His expression lingers between grief and wonder.

He finally straightens, smoothing his jacket. A small chuckle escapes him. He approaches and places a hand gently on my head.

"If I wasn't mistaken, I'd say you're the daughter I never had."

My breath catches. I don't cry again—but I want to.

He turns toward the door. "Just a second." he calls.

I stand frozen until the door opens and a maid appears, asking about refreshments. Taking a shaky breath, I give Vincent a small smile and curtsey.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Anytime, Rina."

I slip past the maid and into the hallway, warmth blooming in my chest. I wipe my face one last time, a grin beginning to curl across my lips.

0o0o0o0o0o

I dash through the corridors, wind at my back. I know exactly where to find them. Skidding around a corner, I burst through the door of their lesson room.

The old tutor shrieks. The twins whip around, eyes wide.

"E-Excuse you!" the woman sputters. "You're invading the young masters'—"

"Guys! Guess what!" I shout, slamming my hands on their table, grinning like a maniac.

They blink. "What?" they ask in sync.

"I don't have to go back to the Midfords!"

Their chairs scrape the floor as they shoot up. "Really?!" Fenian gasps.

"Fantastic!" Ciel beams.

"You! Servant!" the tutor snaps. "Who do you think you are—!"

"Anyway—" I cut her off, ignoring her completely. "I'm so happy I can stay with you guys."

The boys run over and hug me tight. I tickle their necks in retaliation, their laughter filling the room.

"Alright, you two. Back to learning." I tease, ruffling their hair.

"Take us with you~" Ciel groans.

"Too bad," I smirk. "Sucks to be you."

He scowls, arms crossed, and flops back into his seat. I glance at Fenian—he's still smiling, cheeks faintly flushed.

I pat his head gently. "See you tonight."

He nods shyly and returns to his chair.

I finally turn to the irate teacher. "You can have them back now."

Before she can get another word in, I skip out of the room with a bounce in my step.

0o0o0o0o

A few days later…

Humming under my breath, I scrub the kitchen tiles, elbow-deep in soap suds. The head maid was overjoyed when she found out I'm staying—so thrilled, in fact, that she dumped a mountain of chores on me like it was a party favor. I'm even on my hands and knees cleaning the grooves between the stones. Rachel and the head maid have to be conspiring.

I can practically see them cackling over tea, plotting my demise via excessive housework.

But the thought of Racheal dims my mood. I haven't spoken to her since our argument.

Frowning, I catch my reflection in the wet tile. Her jealousy still stings. I feel pity, yes—but I can't control how others feel about me. I act based on who I am, not who they wish I'd be.

I toss the cloth into the soapy bucket with a wet slap.

As much as I want to mend things, it feels like something between us is already broken—fractured beneath the weight of years and changing roles. She used to care for me like a daughter.

Now, she flinches in my presence.

I used to compare her to my mother…I know that's not fair. But the memory of my real mother—her voice, her morning wake-ups—is slipping further away each day. Being stuck in the past…it's hard.

No one knew how bad things were back then.

No one except Vincent.

The boys changed that.

They pulled me out of it, little by little, like light creeping through a crack in a wall. Now, just thinking of their grins makes my chest ache with warmth.

I rise from the floor with a groan, knees stiff and sore. After wringing the cloth out and tossing the filthy water outside, I haul everything to the supply closet and wipe my hands clean on my apron.

Yawning, I sneak down the hallway, ducking away from potential witnesses. I'm not lazy—just utterly drained.

Morning training, chores stacked to the ceiling...I'm on the verge of collapsing.

Once in my room, I lean against the door and sigh. My fingers tug the tie from my hair, releasing it from the tight bun with a wince. Damn knots.

I kick my shoes off and drag myself to bed. The mattress welcomes me with open arms. I don't even care that my corset's digging into me. I pull the blanket over my shoulders and let sleep drag me under.

0o0o0o0o0o

Darkness.

Not just the absence of light—but a swallowing void, like I've been dropped into a painting dipped in ink. There's nothing here. Except...my hand, glowing pale against the black.

My brow furrows. I raise my arm, watch it hover in the dark, eerie and luminous.

"Hello?" My voice bounces back at me, echoing like a taunt. I blink—and suddenly I'm standing in grass under the night sky, staring at my old house.

My heart skips.

No...this can't be real. I can't go back. But there it is—every detail carved into my memory. The porch steps. The creaky windows.

I take one step toward it—and the ground vanishes beneath my feet.

A scream rips from my throat as I plummet.

The earth crumbles away, dissolving into inky wisps that lick my cheeks like smoke. I scramble, flailing, until my fingers hook on the crumbling edge.

"Help!" I cry, voice raw. My arms shake with effort. I can't lift myself. "Somebody!"

Grass rustles above me. I snap my head up.

Hope.

Then—shoes. Sharp-tipped and perfectly still at the edge.

I squint, trying to see their face, but shadows smother their features. Just darkness.

"Hello!?" I yelp, sweat trailing down my temples.

The figure crouches, balancing easily. "You're luminous in the darkness," they rasp. "How fitting."

Their voice is unstable, like sickness in human form. I stare, unnerved.

"Are you going to just stand there and watch me all day or are you going to help me?" I snap, clinging harder.

A soft laugh spills from them, curling like smoke. "Same as usual, I see. Maybe if you beg for my help, I shall offer it."

Their fingers brush mine—velvet soft, sharp-nailed. I shudder. A smirk glints through the darkness, or maybe I imagine it.

"Who the hell are you? Beg? Me? Don't make me laugh."

"You need not concern yourself with who I am." they reply silkily. One of my fingers is lifted. Pain flares through my arm.

"Hey now! No need to try and kill me!"

Another laugh. "Kill you? No need. Your life's chaotic enough as it is. No point adding to my own misery."

Do I...know them?

"Do I know you?" I ask, confused.

"No. Not yet. Nor do I. Not until much later."

A cold knot tightens in my gut. "This is a dream, isn't it?"

"Smart as ever. I'm surprised you don't consider this a nightmare."

Another finger slips free. I cry out, voice strangled. "H-How do you know I'm from the future?"

They lean in. Still no face. "Let's say...you told me."

Three fingers gone. Agony burns down my arm. My body trembles.

How is this hurting? This is a dream. Just a dream.

...Why am I only holding on with my pinky?

Despite myself, I smirk.

"What's so funny?"

"I'm only hanging on with my pinky."

A sigh. "So simpleminded. What do I expect from you of all people?"

I scowl and stick my tongue out at the shadow. "I'll gladly be consumed by this darkness than stick around and be bullied by the likes of you."

That makes him pause. His body goes still, like I hit something tender.

"Oh? ~ That's quite the statement."

"I shall take my leave now. Goodbye, Mister in the Dark."

And I let go.

The black swallows me.

Above, red eyes bloom in the shadows—dozens of them. Their glow follows me as the darkness closes in, sealing me away.

Something wraps around my back and drags me deeper.

0o0o0o0o

I bolt upright in bed with a gasp, chest heaving. My heart punches against my ribs. I grip my chest, sweat sticking to my skin.

Stumbling to the mirror, I catch my flushed reflection. My hands tremble as I lift them.

No wounds. No pain.

Just memory.

Breathing hard, I rake my fingers through my damp hair. It's been a long time since I dreamed of him. Usually, he just stares—or doesn't notice me at all. This was the first time he spoke.

What was that? Who was that?

I sit at the vanity, heart slowly calming. Questions whirl through my head, loud as drums. He said we'll meet—but when? And how?

Despite everything, I don't feel...afraid of him. Not exactly.

Maybe because it's just a dream.

But there's something about him—something that feels...wrong. And yet, oddly familiar.

Grabbing my hairbrush, I pull my hair back into a tight bun, ignoring how my fingers shake. I slide on my shoes, one at a time, and step out of the room.

I need to find the boys.

Whoever that figure was...I hope they don't show up again. But if they do—if I really do meet them—I want to be ready.

As strange as they made me feel...it wasn't entirely bad.

And that might be the scariest part of all.

Chapter Text

Back at the mansion, I sit beside Fenian and pat his back calmly as he coughs, the sound scraping at my nerves. He insisted on reading me a story for once—claimed it was his turn. I thought the idea was adorable and let him. But barely a few pages in, the coughing started, harsh and persistent.

In the end, I'm the one reading while he curls up in my lap.

I comb his soft blue-gray hair back, nails gently scraping his scalp. He's nearly asleep in my arms, but the coughing keeps pulling him awake.

"...the man wanders the valley in hopes to find his home after the war. A brave defeat leaves a longing inside his hurting heart as he detects the red hues in the sky as the sun sets."

My voice is low and soft—too soft. It's lulling me to sleep. I yawn into the open air, unable to help it. I haven't been sleeping well. The dreams keep coming. The man in them lingers at the edge of my consciousness, always there, always watching, never speaking. Just that once—just one dream, vivid and clear—then nothing again. They come in strange waves, these dreams. They vanish as suddenly as they arrive.

Still, it feels like I'm being watched.

I shake off the thought and adjust the novella in my hands. Rachel's made sure my days are full: chores as punishment, nannying, bodyguard duties. Every corner of my life is occupied.

I bend down and press a small kiss to the back of Fenian's head. "Are you feeling any better?" I whisper.

"Mhm, a little bit." Fenian mumbles, eyelids heavy.

I chuckle, hand still gently stroking through his hair. "I don't know about you, but reading made me sleepy. I could use a cat nap..." My eyes threaten to close, my cheek resting against the top of his head. He rustles in my arms, nestling in deeper.

"Sis..." Fenian murmurs.

"Mmm?" I hum, barely able to lift my head.

"I wish I didn't have asthma..."

My smile fades. I frown and sigh softly. "Sometimes we have to accept things for what they are. We can't always have the best of both worlds." He stays quiet. I hold him closer. "Not that I mind you having it. Because then I get to have you all to myself." I joke lightly, poking his side.

He giggles, squirming. "It's not so bad when I think of it like that."

I grin. "I am the best big sister, no?"

"Most definitely!" he says with a bright nod.

But the peace doesn't last. Another fit shakes him and I soothe his back again. This time, it fades quickly.

The door swings open, and Ciel enters, balancing a tray of food with a triumphant grin.

"Sorry for the wait! Supper is ready!"

I blink in surprise, rising from behind Fenian. "How come you're bringing it, Ciel?"

"That's what I would like to know also." Fenian says, equally confused.

Ciel brushes off our questions and sets the tray down with flair.

"Because I helped cook it today—with Father and Diedrich!"

Fenian makes a little sound of awe. My brows shoot up. "Diedrich is here? Since when? Vincent helped cook? That's truly surprising..." I mutter to myself.

"Make sure to eat lots so you'll get better!" Ciel says warmly.

"Okay!" Fenian chirps, smiling back.

I melt at the sight of them and can't resist pinching both their cheeks. "Ah, the two of you are so adorable."

"Stop it, Rinaaaa. ~" Ciel whines, swatting at my hands.

Fenian just leans into the touch with a small smile. I let go with a shake of my head. "Alright, alright. Now how about we get you fed?"

I reach for the fork, but Ciel grabs it first and spoons a bite toward Fenian. The younger boy blinks in surprise, but shrugs and accepts it.

I watch quietly, a small smile playing on my lips as Ciel fusses over him. Eventually Fenian takes over, and Ciel steps back, hands on his hips.

"Once you're done eating, what game should we play? Chess? Cribbage?"

I hum thoughtfully. If only Twister existed—now that would be a sight.

Fenian sets his fork down and glances at his brother. "Ciel, you know...you don't have to worry about me. You can go outside and play if you want to. Plus, I got Rina here if I get bored."

My brows lift slightly. The way he says it—it's rare for Fenian to bring it up himself. I look between them.

Ciel hesitates, then lets out a quiet sigh.

"You are so silly, you know?" he says, smiling.

I smirk, half-expecting a full scolding.

"You and Father are the only ones who can put up a good match against me in chess!" Ciel declares. "Lizzie, Aunt Anne, Tanaka, Rina—everyone else is terrible!"

"Hey!" I snap in protest.

They both ignore me.

"I'm here with you because I want to be. Playing here with you is the best!" Ciel gestures around the room. "So, let's have a lot of fun together on tomorrow's boat trip, too!"

Ah—right. The boat trip. The one I'm not allowed to join. Rachel made that crystal clear. Vincent tried to reason with her, so did the twins, but to no use. She doesn't want me there—and honestly, I don't want to be where I'm not wanted. Still, it hurts.

Even if I've made peace with being a side character in their world.

Ciel's cheerful smile tugs at mine. I can't help it.

"Okay!" Fenian agrees, and the two of them bump noses.

I wish I had a camera. The moment is too cute.

"I'll see you kiddos later," I say, scooping up the tray and helping Fenian off my lap. "Might try to take a nap."

"Now that you mention it, you've been looking really tired lately." Ciel says, eyeing me.

"Your eyes are really baggy, sis." Fenian adds.

I smile gently. "Yeah...I've been having bad dreams lately. Nothing for you two to worry about." I wave them off and slip out before they can ask more. It's only half the truth, anyway.

Down in the kitchen, I set the tray with the dirty dishes and lean against the counter with a sigh. "I hope things calm down soon."

0o0o0o0o

Another sleepless night. I drag myself out of bed, limbs heavy. No time to crash now—I have to help the boys get ready.

I stumble down the hall, yawning, knocking on both doors before letting myself into Ciel's first.

"Time to get up." I mutter, shaking him by the shoulder.

He grumbles and hides under the covers. With an eye roll, I yank the blanket off. He bolts upright, scowling.

I stick my tongue out. "Up and at 'em."

He huffs but heads toward the washroom. I head to Fenian's room next. Drawing the curtains open, I sit on the bed and nudge him gently.

"Feni, time to wake up."

He stirs, rolling away.

"Fenian, come on now."

Slowly, he turns, blinking up at me.

"Rina?" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

I smile. "The one and only."

He sits up with a yawn—sweet as ever. He's so much more docile than Ciel in the mornings. That'll change with age, I'm sure.

He looks pale, now that I'm seeing him clearly. But I push the thought aside.

"Alrighty. I'll pack your stuff if you go get ready with your brother, 'kay?"

He nods and shuffles out. I pull a suitcase from the closet and start packing: a few outfits, necessities, a jacket just in case. They won't be gone long.

Once his is ready, I head to Ciel's room and do the same. The boys return and start dressing. I help them with the trickier parts.

While adjusting Ciel's bowtie, I yawn again.

"Sis, are you coming with us?" Ciel asks suddenly.

I pause, meeting his gaze. "No. Sadly, I can't accompany you."

"I don't understand why Mother won't let you come." Fenian says, clearly upset.

I sigh and shift to fixing his tie. "She probably just wants a family vacation, hun."

"But you are family?" he asks innocently.

The question stops me. My heart catches.

Ciel frowns. "She means blood-related family..."

"Oh..." Fenian murmurs, visibly deflating.

I exhale softly. "Your brother's right. But this is still an important bonding experience. I'm sure it'll be fun—even if I'm not there."

"It's only fun when you and Ciel are around." he pouts.

God, this kid. I glance at Ciel, who watches his brother quietly—then notices me watching and shifts into a grin.

"He's not wrong. I enjoy both of your companies as well."

I laugh. "Well, I did raise you two. Makes sense."

Still pouting, Fenian gets his hair ruffled. "Stop that. You'll be okay, Fenian. I promise. Big Brother Ciel's going to look after you, right?"

Ciel puffs up. "I will! I won't ever leave your side, Fenian!"

"Okay! I'm counting on you!"

Then Fenian coughs—loud, rough, persistent.

My stomach clenches. "Come here," I say gently. "Ciel, grab the suitcases."

Fenian stumbles into my arms, still coughing. I hold him close as we head downstairs. Ciel leads the way. At the foot of the stairs, Racheal, Vincent, and the staff are waiting.

Fenian's trembling. His cough softens but doesn't stop.

Vincent glances over. "Ready to go?"

I frown, glancing down at Fenian. He meets my eyes, his own slightly glazed. I feel his forehead—warm.

"He has a slight fever," I report quietly. "And his cough is worse."

Rachel gasps and takes him from me. I hesitate, reluctant to let go. She presses her hand to his head and frowns.

"Looks like we'll have to cancel the boat trip."

"We can go another time, dear." Vincent says gently.

Fenian wriggles to be set down.

"I'll be fine, so the rest of you should go on the trip."

His cheeks are flushed, and the effort it takes to say that makes my heart ache.

"Mother, you're finally feeling well again. I don't want you all to miss this chance because of me."

"But..." Rachel starts.

"I have Tanaka and Rina here with me, so I'll be fine. I'll be a good boy and wait here."

My throat tightens.

"So please..." he whispers, fists clenched.

Ciel steps beside him.

"...Alright. Then we'll make sure to bring lots of souvenirs back for you! Flowers, mountains of pretty rocks!"

"Okay!" Fenian grins.

"Tanaka, Rina, take care of him," Vincent says firmly.

Tanaka and I bow in unison. "Yes, my lord."

0o0o0o0o

We see the family off at the front door of the manor, waving until the carriage disappears beyond the trees. As soon as they're gone, Tanaka gently guides us to one of the sitting rooms. He gestures to a chair and Fenian sits without protest.

I exchange a look with the old man—he nods knowingly.

Tanaka kneels in front of Fenian, taking both of the boy's hands in his. "Young Master," he begins warmly, "your show of consideration for everyone earlier was magnificent. This old grandpa doesn't have the slightest doubt that you will become a wonderful and kindhearted gentleman in the future."

The tenderness of the moment swells in my chest, dulling the edge of my fatigue. I blink back the sudden sting in my eyes as Fenian's fill with tears, cheeks pink from illness.

"Gramps…" Fenian whispers, breath catching.

I drop beside him, smiling gently. "I'm really proud of you, Feni. I know it hurts, but being selfless is an admirable feat."

He stares at me, quietly moved. A tear slips down his cheek.

Tanaka gives a nod, picking up where I left off. "As a reward for your gentlemanly acts, you may have whatever you would like for today's afternoon tea."

Fenian perks up immediately, rising to his feet with innocent cheer. "Well, I think I would like some chocolate cake…also, I want to play chess."

I smirk. Tanaka chuckles. "Though I may be no match, I will gladly be your opponent."

"Same here," I chime in. "I'll kick your and Ciel's butt one day in that game."

Fenian giggles and hugs Tanaka's side. "Can't wait to see that!"

"How do you feel, Fenian?" I ask, still concerned.

He looks up at me, face softer now. "I think I'll be okay."

"I'll go prepare some tea and cake while you two play." I say, rising.

Tanaka blinks, surprised. "Miss Rina, you don't have to trouble yourself—"

"Old man, I got this," I insist, giving him a nudge toward the game room. "Go relax with Feni."

He sighs, amused, shaking his head as he leads Fenian away.

0o0o0o0o

The next few days pass quietly. Peaceful, even. It's strange without the rest of the family here. I spoil Fenian shamelessly, partly to cheer him up, partly because I want to.

"Aha! I found you!" I laugh, yanking open the closet door.

Fenian sits cross-legged inside, pouting up at me with watery eyes—though I know he's faking. "How do you always find me?!"

"Maybe because you always pick the same spots?" I tease, leaning against the doorframe.

"I do not!"

"Mm-hmm. Are you sure about that?" I offer a hand to help him up, which he ignores.

"Yes! I swear it's like you can sniff me out or hear me!"

I tilt my head, amused. "I doubt that as much as you."

He huffs and crosses his arms, avoiding my gaze. I sigh, smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. I'll give you a retry. Plus, you get an extra five seconds."

His eyes narrow, calculating.

"Ten."

"…Ten?" I blink.

"Ten seconds." he confirms, deadly serious.

A laugh bursts out before I can help it. "Okay, okay. Ten seconds."

He takes off running, a grin lighting up his face.

I start counting, slow and steady, switching to a silent count after twenty. I might've spoiled him too much since they left, but it's worth it to see him happy.

By the time I hit fifty, I'm out searching. Room after room, nothing. Seems like he finally picked a new spot. Good—he's learning.

I descend the main stairs and freeze mid-step. Flower petals scatter across the floor like a trail. At the end of them: Vincent, Rachel, and the twins, back from their trip, laughing and hugging tightly.

A warm smile spreads over my face. I stay on the stairwell a moment longer before quietly retreating back up to my room, giving them space.

0o0o0o0o

Several days later…

The clash of foils echoes through the room. I stand behind Fenian's chair, watching Lady Midford and Ciel spar. Her movements are fierce, precise—she's my teacher too, which makes my palms sweat just thinking about dueling her.

Elizabeth sits beside Fenian, hands folded primly. "Are you all better now?" she whispers. "Ciel told me you weren't able to go on the boat trip."

I wince. So much for avoiding that subject. Fenian nods hesitantly. "Yup. I'm all better today. No coughs or anything…"

Ciel yelps and hits the mat, cutting his brother off. Lady Midford scolds him instantly. "Ciel! You are not stepping through with enough force!"

Ciel stares up at her, panting. She sighs, relenting. "Oh well. I suppose that will be enough for today."

Elizabeth bolts from her chair, calling his name. I squeeze Fenian's shoulder gently. He relaxes under my touch, worry fading.

"Haa…I think I need to change my underwear…" Ciel mutters.

I snort. Now you know how I feel, Ciel. Welcome to the pain.

"Yes, Mother tends to be very strict." Elizabeth adds sweetly.

Understatement of the year. Once, she kept me practicing sword forms until morning. I almost fell asleep standing up.

The door creaks open. Tanaka enters. "Pardon the interruption. Professor Hughes has arrived for your lessons in sovereignty."

I suppress a groan. Ugh, boring.

"I'll head over as soon as I've changed," Ciel tells him. "No need to wait for me. Go on ahead."

"Alright." Fenian disappears into the hallway.

"But I wanted to play with you more, Cielllll!" Elizabeth whines.

"I know, but what can I do?" Ciel shrugs.

"Be better at sovereignty?" I chime in teasingly.

Ciel glares, stomping his foot. "It has nothing to do with me being good in my lessons!"

"Does it really?" I snicker.

He spins on his heel with a huff. I roll my eyes. So dramatic. We all leave, and I escort Ciel to his room to get changed. He mocks me the whole way there.

I don't dignify any of it with a serious response—just smirk and carry on.

0o0o0o0o

Nina really outdid herself with the boys' outfits. I adjust their bows carefully, pride welling in my chest. Fenian finally gets to leave the house. He deserves it.

Stepping back, I squeal. "Oh my god, you guys look so cute. Ahh~"

They both blush.

"You always say that, sis." Ciel grumbles.

"I'd be lying if I didn't. You both look so handsome." I ruffle their hair.

They try to dodge me, giggling.

"Stop it, it's embarrassing."

"Well, now I want to do it more." I grin slyly.

They pale at my expression, just as Tanaka steps in.

"The carriage is ready," he says, then pauses. "My, my. You two appear very dashing indeed."

"I know, right?" I add. "When they're older, they'll have every lady's attention."

Ciel turns red. Fenian's cheeks go pink.

Tanaka continues, "Inspections of the domain are a crucial duty of the reigning lord. Make sure to learn everything you can at your father's side today, alright?"

"Okay!" they shout together.

Grabbing their hands, I grin. "Alrighty. Let's rock 'n' roll, kids!"

"Rock and roll?" Fenian asks.

"What?"

I blink. "Er…it's a saying from where I come from."

They accept it without fuss, and I guide them to the carriage.

0o0o0o0o

The maids wave us off as the carriage pulls farther from the mansion. I'm practically bouncing in my seat, thrilled to be going along. Rachel's out visiting her sister today, and after some relentless begging, Vincent finally agreed to bring me with him and the boys.

The countryside stretches wide, bathed in green and gold. I lean toward the window, watching the scenery buzz by, thoughts just as lively.

I sit beside Vincent, the twins across from us. Silence drapes over us until one of them finally speaks.

"Father, what exactly does an earl do?" Ciel asks.

Vincent presses a knuckle to his lips, thoughtful. "Hmm, good question," he muses aloud. "The Phantomhive domain is approximately twenty thousand acres wide. A lot of people live on this property, and it is the earl's duty to protect and manage the entire area."

I blanch. Twenty thousand acres? Even after all this time, I didn't know it was that much. I glance out at the hills, momentarily distracted by the idea of building a little cottage out here once I'm an old lady. Maybe with a garden. Maybe not.

"Manage?" Ciel echoes, clearly unsure what that means.

"Yes, that's right. For instance, you know there are sheep and cow farmers."

Right on cue, a shepherd and his flock pass by. The boys smile at the sight. I do too. It's oddly picturesque.

"Farmers that till the land, and stores like pubs and bakeries. All the people running those establishments live here…in our domain. And it is because of those people that our land can flourish as it does. So that is why it is our duty and responsibility to make sure that everyone can live peacefully without worry or inconvenience."

I hum softly, watching a small town pass in the distance. I couldn't have said it better myself.

The twins still look confused, so Vincent continues. "Take this aqueduct, for example. Tasks like digging out waterways to draw up water for the farms and fixing broken bridges takes a lot of manpower. Can you see how difficult it would be for one person to do it all on their own?"

I glance out again, spotting laborers drenched in sweat. Poor guys—it must be boiling out. A few of them wave as we pass, and I return it with a smile. One of the younger men blushes and tips his hat at me. I chuckle under my breath. Cute.

"Not to mention how much it costs." I add, dryly, shifting my gaze back to Vincent.

He shoots me a knowing look. I squirm in my seat, caught red-handed. Still, he carries on smoothly. "And that's why I work to maintain the land and all of its infrastructure, so that the people living here are free to focus on their own work and industry…"

"That is the duty of the lord of the land." I finish for him with a smirk, remembering him giving me this same speech when I was younger.

He blinks, just briefly surprised, then nods. "As Rina said."

"Listening to all the wishes of all of the people in the land sounds tough…" Fenian murmurs, visibly anxious about the future.

"But we have to care for them properly so that they can do their work," Ciel says, blunt. "Otherwise, they'll be just like sheep. If we don't feed them, they'll leave for somewhere else."

I sweatdrop. Well…damn. When did he get so sharp? I glance at Vincent—he's observing Ciel quietly, calculating something.

My brow twitches. No scolding? Really? I bite my tongue to keep from snapping. Comparing people to animals is a red flag.

I grip the fabric of my dress in frustration. Back home, I think bitterly, we're raised to accept people as they are. Not that the twenty-first century doesn't have its own issues—but here, it's more aggressive. Status, speech, skin, clothing—everything is judged.

I sigh, forcing myself to look out the window again.

People in the villages walk the cobblestone streets, chatting or heading to work. So different from the manor. I rest my chin against my hand, elbow propped on the carriage ledge.

At least I'm well-rested for once—those awful dreams have finally stopped. I shift slightly and feel eyes on me. I turn to find Fenian staring.

I wiggle my eyebrows playfully. He giggles.

That sound—like tiny bells. I can't help the smile that stretches across my face.

0o0o0o0o

The carriage pulls to a stop at a church. I eye it warily as I rise with the others. The architecture is beautiful, sure, but I can't help the unease that creeps into me. I follow them out reluctantly.

It's not churches I dislike—it's religion. But churches have made me uncomfortable regardless since I was a child. As an atheist, I've never been fond of God. No one here knows. Not even Vincent. Religion's practically sacred in this time.

"Rina?" someone calls.

I blink out of my thoughts. Ciel's staring up at me. "What?" I ask blankly.

"Aren't you coming?"

I nod and stride ahead, brushing past him. He follows.

A rotund priest approaches, hands clasped and beaming. "Lord Phantomhive! Thank you very much for taking the time to visit today!"

Vincent returns the smile, removing his hat politely. "Pastor Rathbone. How has the village been doing? Any problems as of late?"

As they walk and talk down the aisle, I trail behind, only half listening.

"We've found more nurses for the cottage hospital; however, funds are beginning to become an issue." the priest says.

"Then perhaps I shall hold a ball for a fundraiser. I'll consult Rachel about it." Vincent replies.

The priest nods. "Also, Sam the shepherd says that his grandchild is to be born next month. He would love it if the earl were to christen the babe."

My eyes widen. I choke on air, stifling a laugh. He wants Vincent to christen a baby?

The twins glance at me in confusion.

"Christen the child? Hmm…that's a tall order. My wife is the one who named our children…" Vincent says thoughtfully.

I cough, trying to calm myself.

The boys run off to poke at a nearby bush, clearly bored.

"Come to think of it, your sons have unusual names, don't they? For the region of England, I mean." the priest notes.

He's not wrong. I tap a finger to my lip, curious what Vincent will say.

"Yes, my relatives all had sour faces when they heard!" he laughs. "They kept telling me to give them more traditional names. However…" His gaze softens on the twins.

A shiver slides down my spine. The way he looks at them—it's intense. Too intense.

"England's traditional names are just too old-fashioned. For a new age that may not be too far off in the future from now."

Vincent glances at me, sharp and knowing. My stomach flips. That was a mastermind look if I've ever seen one.

The priest moves on, oblivious. I stay quiet. Something about today feels…off. Heavy. Between Ciel's strange comments and Vincent's expression, I feel the weight of something I can't name.

"Ciel, do you think you can become a great gentleman like Father when you grow up?" Fenian's voice rings from behind me.

I turn, smiling automatically. Ah, Fenian. A little beacon of hope.

"I bet you can!" he cheers.

Ciel blushes, flustered. "You think so?"

"I want to become a great adult like Father, too," Fenian adds, voice bright with resolve. "I will become a younger brother you can be proud of, Ciel."

My heart squeezes painfully. It's too cute—too pure.

I rush to him, bend down, and glomp him without warning. "Feni, I can't take it—you're so freaking cute! You're gonna kill me, don't ever change, you hear me?"

He stiffens, blushing so hard I feel the heat radiate. "R-Rina…"

I release him, though it takes effort. I can't stop smiling. Even the twins look affected.

"I'm proud of you already!" Ciel says. "What do you want to be when you grow up? A pastor? Or perhaps a doctor?"

I trail after them, eager to hear the answer.

"No, actually…" Fenian says shyly. "I want to leave London and run a toy store!"

My eyes go wide. A toy store?! I nearly burst again. I rein it in—barely.

Ciel's face drains. "Huh?!"

Uh oh…

"But that's not a job fitting of nobility! You should just become a pastor or doctor and then live in the neighborhood!" Ciel protests.

I wince. Here we go. Fenian doesn't even notice.

"Well, you see, I was thinking that it'd be nice if we had even more toys in our room to play with." he says cheerfully.

I smile gently. It really does suit him.

"I may not be able to measure up to you or Father, but I need to be able to walk on my own two legs without any help. Uncle Diedrich said it, too."

Ugh, Diedrich, I grumble internally. Always butting in.

I glance at Ciel—his head is lowered, lip trembling.

"How can you say that?" Ciel whispers, voice cracking.

My chest tightens. Fenian turns, confused.

"Huh?"

"If you become the pastor or priest within the domain, then we can be together forever. But why are you talking about leaving me alone?"

The tears sting in my eyes. I don't want to leave them either.

"Alone…?" Fenian repeats, slowly understanding. "Don't be silly! You have Elizabeth to be your wife, don't you? You two can live together forever just like Father and Mother."

He clasps Ciel's hands gently. But Ciel doesn't respond.

"Ciel?" Fenian calls again.

Still nothing.

Vincent's voice cuts in sharply, making me flinch. "Hey-ho! You three! It's time to leave for the next place!"

"Oh! Coming! Let's go, Ciel!" Fenian grabs his hand, pulling him along. "Come on!"

Ciel doesn't react.

I sigh, following them out. Just before crossing the threshold, I glance back into the church.

May God—or whatever's listening—keep these boys together. Please.

0o0o0o0o

I make my way toward Ciel's bedroom, running late thanks to sword practice. My neck's been aching since last night, so I figured movement might help—swinging that gorgeous blade Francis Midford gifted me. Its handle is engraved with delicate vines, almost too pretty to fight with. Almost.

As I round the corner, I hear commotion from up ahead. Something's definitely off.

"Young master, Ciel, won't you please rise from bed? Your tutor will be arriving soon." Tanaka calls from inside.

I drift closer, frowning. Inside, Tanaka and Fenian stand beside Ciel's bed, looking perplexed. What in the actual hell?

Before I can speak, Ciel shouts from under the covers, "I don't want to! I'm not going to study anymore! Everyone just get out!"

I stop in my tracks, blinking. Seriously? This wasn't like him—well, not in front of anyone else. I glance between the others, thinking back. Yesterday...the church conversation. Right. My chest sinks a little with understanding.

I sigh—loud enough to draw Fenian's attention. He turns to me, eyes flashing concern. I nod at him and step beside the bed.

"Well, it's certainly not like you to throw a tantrum like this." Tanaka says gently.

"I agree. What's wrong, Ciel?" Fenian asks.

Tantrum, huh? Ciel's thrown worse—just only where I could see it. I hold back another sigh. Sometimes I think I'm the only one who truly sees these kids when they're cracked wide open.

Ciel suddenly yanks the covers over his head. "You wouldn't understand! Just leave me alone!"

The three of us exchange a worried look.

"Maybe you guys should step out," I suggest. "I'll try talking to him."

I sit down carefully on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips beneath my weight. I reach out, tapping somewhere I hope is his shoulder.

"Ciel," I say softly. "I know why you're upset. Please come out so we can talk."

There's a rustle under the blankets. "No, you don't!" His voice is muffled, but the edge is still there.

I smirk. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"Yes, many times!"

I sweatdrop. Okay, fair. "Maybe once or twice. But! Am I ever not truthful in what I say?"

More shuffling. A tuft of his hair peeks from under the blanket. "No…"

I chuckle. Before I can say more, a too-familiar voice cuts through the room.

"My goodness, what's all the fuss this early in the morning?"

I fight the urge to gag. Perfect timing, Rachel.

"Father. Mother," Fenian greets politely, though he looks mildly surprised. "Ciel refuses to get out of bed. He says he doesn't want to study anymore."

"Oh my! I wonder what's wrong?" Racheal frets, voice sugary sweet with concern.

Vincent remains impassive—no read on his face at all.

Then Rachel spots me on the bed.

Her gaze sharpens like a blade. If looks could kill, I'd be toast. I stare back, not remotely in the mood to put up with her jealousy issues.

She walks past me to pat Fenian's head. "Your father and I will try talking to him, then. You go on ahead to the classroom, alright?"

Fenian nods and heads for the door without protest.

"I think it would be best for you to leave, Rina. This is a private matter, after all." Rachel says, all too smug.

I grit my teeth. Private matter, my ass.

With deliberate spite, I lean over and press a kiss to the blanket where Ciel's head is hidden. "Let's talk later, Ciel." I murmur, straightening up.

Rachel is visibly seething. I smirk in victory and offer a deep, smug curtsey before sweeping out of the room.

Fenian waits just outside the door. He looks up at me with a small smile and takes my hand, leading me down the hall. I follow automatically, still basking in the win.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I'm hungry. I want you to make me some food."

I sweatdrop. Oh no.

"Feni, you know I'm bad at cooking. Plus, didn't your mother just tell you to go to the classroom?"

He turns and looks up at me with a calm, stubborn expression. "I don't care. And I'll eat anything you make."

My heart melts. Dangerous child.

"Well, if you say so."

He tugs me all the way to the kitchen. Most of the chefs have gone to rest—they wake at ungodly hours to prep meals, and they usually take a nap between courses. The place is quiet.

I rummage through the cabinets while Fenian sits at a nearby table, watching me with interest. I gather everything I need for eggs and toast. Simple, right?

"A bird." he says out of nowhere.

I freeze, looking around. What bird?

I glance at him, confused. "A bird?"

He giggles and points. "You remind me of a bird."

I blink. "Is that so? What kind?"

Playing along, I raise an eyebrow. This should be good.

"Hm…a hummingbird."

"What makes me like a hummingbird?"

He props his chin in his hands, smiling. "You walk frantically. And you hum under your breath a lot."

I stare. I didn't even know I did that.

"Huh. I never noticed." I crack an egg into the pan and let it sizzle. "Birds are my favorite animal, though."

I butter another pan and toss some bread onto it. "Call me Rina Hummington, then." I grin at my own dumb joke.

Fenian smiles, soft and genuine. I finish cooking—though the eggs were a little…crispy. I plate everything and grab silverware, setting a plate down in front of him.

"Bon appétit!" I chirp, biting into my buttery toast.

Fenian takes a bite of egg, chews slowly, then grimaces. "The eggs burnt…"

"Shush and eat your food," I groan, trying a bite myself.

Yep. Burnt.

Oh well. I tried.

Chapter Text

Tapping my ink pen against the journal, I scribble down what I've done today so far. Nothing major. A few chores. The usual notes. I've been logging my days for so long now that I've filled two other journals with my thoughts.

It started as a stress reliever. Now it's a habit.

Maybe I should become an author, I think with a crooked smirk.

I could write some ridiculous story about traveling back in time and becoming a housework slave. Not sure anyone would like it—but in my era, I bet it'd be a bestseller.

Of course, people would ask how I managed such historical accuracy. I barely contain a snicker. Closing the journal, I tuck it into the drawer of my desk and rise from my chair.

Chores: finished. Tasks: done. Now I'm just waiting for the boys to wrap up their lessons. They've been getting more frequent lately—it feels like every month they're stacked higher. Poor kids.

Straightening my apron, I step into the hallway.

The sun's sinking outside, brushing golden light along the walls. A "special guest" is supposed to arrive tonight. And by special, I mean Rachel's sister: Angelina Dalles-Burnett—Madam Red. Beautiful woman, really. But the nickname is earned. Every time I see her, she's decked head-to-toe in red. Even her hair is red. It's honestly a bit much for the eyes.

Still, I'd take her company over Rachel's any day.

She doesn't talk to me much, but I'm pretty sure that's Racheal's doing. Probably whispered in her ear that I'd steal her sister away, too. Hmph. Jealous, possessive woman. But I pity her more than anything. Imagine raising someone only to turn around and find them repulsive.

Then again...that's not too rare in the world, is it?

I sigh, walking aimlessly now. No real destination. Thinking about Racheal is a surefire way to give myself a headache. Almost as bad as thinking of ways to get home. I've long since given up on that mission. Time travel? Even in the twenty-first century, we don't have that tech.

Unless it's locked away in Area 51…

Shaking the thought off, I shove it—along with everything else—out of my mind. Trying to understand Rachel is like watching paint dry while someone bangs your head against the wall.

"Ahh!"

A shout snaps me out of my thoughts. I recognize the voice—one of the twins. Heart racing, I break into a jog.

Turning the corner, I spot Fenian sprinting straight at me, face pale and panicked. My posture stiffens, bracing for whatever threat is behind him—until I see the black blur trailing after.

Sebastian.

The dog.

I exhale in relief just as Fenian launches into my arms. Laughing, I lift him and swing him around above me. "Upsy daisy!"

His teary eyes vanish in an instant as he bursts into giggles, arms wrapping around my neck. Meanwhile, Sebastian barks madly, tugging at the hem of my dress.

I rest Fenian on my hip, glaring down at the overexcited mutt. "Why is Sebastian chasing you?"

"Because he hates me!" Fenian huffs, shooting the dog a glare of his own. He sticks out his tongue dramatically. "My Rina!"

I flush at the possessive tone, caught off guard by how cute it sounds coming from him. "Feni?! I am no ones."

I nudge Sebastian away with my foot.

He finally backs off, obedient for once.

Fenian squirms in my arms, frowning. "What? But you're my sister!"

"You're right," I sigh, "but I'm not yours specifically."

His eyes narrow. "So what you're saying is…you don't want to be mine."

I blink, baffled. "I never said that, did I?"

"Liar. You just contradicted yourself."

A tick forms above my brow. This little—No. Calm down. Deep breath.

"I said I was your sister, not that I'm someone you own, Fenian. Big difference."

But of course, he doesn't stop there. "I don't want to own you. That'd be weird, wouldn't it?"

"Yes. Which is why I'm your sister and your friend—but nothing else. You hear me?"

He nods, then suddenly squeezes me tighter. His body trembles in my arms.

"Feni...are you that scared of losing me?" I ask gently.

His fingers clench into fists, bunching up the fabric of my maid uniform. My heart twists.

I cradle the back of his head and kiss his hair softly. "You know I'll have to leave one day. But why does it bother you now? We've had this talk before."

"B-Bad dream..." he sniffles into my neck.

I gently pull him back so I can see his face. His eyes widen with surprise.

"What happened in it?"

He won't look at me—just stares out the passing window, lashes trembling.

"Y-You…" He falters, voice cracking as tears build. "...died!" he wails.

He breaks into full sobs.

I freeze. He dreamed I died? Of all the people in his life…I wouldn't have expected that.

Kneeling down, I unwrap his arms from my neck and place him carefully on the floor. He hiccups between sobs. I take his hands, holding them tightly, and meet his red-rimmed eyes.

"I won't die. I swear to you, I'll always come back."

My voice wavers despite myself. I want to believe that. I cup his cheek and brush away the tears with my thumb.

"You can't promise that." Fenian mumbles darkly.

I chuckle. "Well…I can try. But if I did die, I'd count on you to keep living."

"I don't think I can live without you, Rina."

My name makes me smile despite everything.

"You'll have to someday, Feni. But that's the future—we're in the present now. We have to focus on what's in front of us. The future can be scary, and the past…the past is just something we remember so we know who we are and what's changed."

Even as I speak, I realize the words are more for me than him. I've been stuck in the past so long, haunted by regrets I can't count anymore. I may smile, but my mind is full of ghosts.

Fenian is quiet, his eyes distant.

"So," I finish, giving his hands a squeeze, "can you help me focus on the present? I want to be with you, your brother, and your father—as presently as possible."

He returns my smile, his version infinitely cuter. "I'll protect you, Rina. Leave it to your brother."

Something about him feels like kin. I laugh, brushing his bangs back. "How about we protect each other—like a king and queen?"

His expression shifts into a mischievous smirk that sends a chill down my spine. Vincent's face. Ugh. The resemblance.

"Not in chess. The queen protects the king."

I rise to my feet, brushing off my skirt. "You're a pretty bad queen, ya' know? Better start training."

I start walking, waiting for his reaction.

"Hey! I'm not a girl!" he yells, chasing after me.

"You cry like one." I tease over my shoulder.

He growls under his breath. "You're no longer my sister."

Laughing, I spin around and run after him as he barrels ahead, fists clenched in indignation. "Aww! Come on, Feni, don't be like that ~"

They really are more alike than they let on—if you push the right buttons.

0o0o0o0o

I have to take a break after our heart-to-heart. It stirs up too many complicated feelings I still don't know how to handle. So, like always, I shove them deeper into my mind, burying them somewhere quiet. Maybe that's cowardly, but it's the only way I can keep going. Being trapped here isn't the thrilling adventure books make it seem.

I miss my mother more than I can ever say.

I probably sound like I'm whining too. I keep telling myself to just forget everything and accept that I'm stuck here—but it's not that simple.

Even after all these years, I can't let go. I know how tormented my personality's become, but ignoring it is the healthiest option I have. Life here is peaceful, sure, but it's also a quiet kind of stressful.

So, I sit at the piano and let the feelings come out through my fingertips.

I used to play back home, though I quit around fourth grade. But when I saw the grand piano at the manor—all gleaming black lacquer and polished ivory—I felt that old spark return. I don't remember every note, but I manage with the ones I do. Somehow, it still sounds right.

The moment I finish a random tune, clapping startles me from behind. I twist around, half-spooked, to find Madam Red standing in the doorway as my unexpected audience.

Blushing, I quickly rise and curtsey. "Madam, welcome back to the manor. It has been a long time since I have seen you."

She offers a friendly smile and steps closer. "Indeed, it has been a little while. How are you, dear?"

I return the smile, straightening. "I'm doing fine, thank you for asking. How about you?"

"You don't seem to be doing fine from what I heard from that piano."

I freeze, her words landing with a quiet sting. My eyes widen a little. "Oh, well, if I may be truthful, Madam. I am a bit down."

She nods and gently takes my arm, guiding me up the stairs. "I see. Would you like to talk about it?"

Chewing my lip, I shake my head. "No, but thank you for the offer. It is something I shall deal with on my own."

I smile faintly. "Are you on your way to my lady's room?" I ask.

"Yes, I am."

I lead her to Rachel's door, where she's likely doing some meaningless embroidery. "She was in here last I checked."

I knock, waiting for a response. When Rachel calls out, I open the door and gesture Madam Red inside. She nods her thanks and steps in. I have no intention of sticking around.

Shutting the door gently behind her, I make my way to Vincent's study. I need to inform him of Madam Red's arrival—and I've got a small request too.

Once I reach the study, I knock lightly. Vincent tells me to come in. I enter to find him, as usual, absorbed in paperwork. He looks up at me with a mild smile. "Ah, Rina. How are you doing today?"

"I am well enough. How about you?" I move to the chair in front of his desk and sit comfortably.

"Just about the same," he says with a dry tone. "What is it I can do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could steal the carriage and go to London for the rest of the day."

He sets his pen down and arches a brow. "Whatever for?"

I purse my lips. "Well, the boys' birthdays are coming up next month. I would like to buy them now instead of later."

He hums in thought and eventually nods. "I see why not then. But I may have to come with you. I have some business in London tonight."

I grin, excited for the unexpected one-on-one time. "I do not mind."

"Good. I shall prepare a carriage. Go get your stuff."

I rise with a stupid grin. Just before I leave, I toss over my shoulder, "Oh, and your sister-in-law is here, by the way."

His face visibly pales, and I smirk. He coughs a few times. "Well, we should leave very quickly."

I giggle and walk out, amused. As much as he cares for Madam Red, he always avoids her when he can. She used to throw herself at him for his looks—honestly, I can't blame her. Vincent is attractive. Racheal finds it funny, which says a lot about their marriage.

Still snickering, I head to my room to grab some money and a coat.

It's the end of fall, and the air is getting chillier.

0o0o0o0o

I bring a book for the ride. Vincent has a newspaper in hand. It's peaceful in the carriage—until he breaks the silence.

"What do you plan on getting the boys?"

I glance up. "Hmm, not sure yet. Got any suggestions?"

He leans back thoughtfully. "The boys both enjoy games."

"Well, I could have told you that." I chuckle.

But what game do they not already have? This is harder than I thought. Should I invent one from the future?…Would that count as cheating?

"I might need some help, Vincent. This is tough enough already." I sigh, scratching my cheek.

"My help may be useless, but I can try."

I nod my thanks and retreat back into Jane Austen. At least she knows how to give me a bit of romance.

0o0o0o0o

When the carriage stops, Vincent and I part ways. Neither of us found anything yet. On the way here, he admitted Rachel usually shops for the boys. I wasn't shocked, but it still felt a little sad.

I stroll past storefronts, hands behind my back, thinking. Should I just buy toys? They're growing up though—Ciel more than Fenian—but still. Most ideas I come up with, they already own. This is nearly impossible.

I visit shop after shop, but leave each one empty-handed. My mood dims the longer it goes on.

Eventually, I stop at a yarn store. The moment I see the spools, an idea hits me—simple, but sweet. I snicker, grab three different colors, and pay.

Mission: Get the boys a birthday present. Complete.

On my way back, I pick up sweets for later. The twins love sugar more than I do—how they're not full of cavities is beyond me.

When I return to the carriage, I'm surprised to find Vincent already waiting inside.

I slide into the seat across from him. He taps the roof with his cane. "That was quick." I comment.

"I only had to take care of one thing."

"What was it?"

He shrugs with a smirk. "Nothing important."

I sputter, "Please, everything's important to you."

"Who knows? ~" he teases. I roll my eyes and settle in for the ride.

"Anyways, what did you get my children?" he asks, glancing at the two small bags beside me.

"Well, I got some yarn and I plan on making something for them."

He hums thoughtfully. "I didn't know you could sew?"

"I don't. This doesn't require such a skill."

He stares at me, curiosity piqued. But he lets it go, and we fall into companionable silence. I don't notice right away, but he keeps glancing over at me—calculating, amused, almost smirking.

0o0o0o0o

Next Month

Snow falls like powdered sugar, dusting the manor grounds. It always brings something childlike out of me. I love making snowmen with the boys this time of year.

Today is their tenth birthday. Ten. I can hardly believe it.

I head to Ciel's room—they stayed up together last night. Quietly pushing open the door, I expect to see them asleep.

Instead, I find both boys wide awake and sitting up.

I blink. "Happy birthday!" I shout gleefully, rushing over to wrap them in a big hug.

They hug me back, though not with much strength. "S-Sis, you're suffocating us." Ciel squeaks.

I let go, laughing as I rub the back of my head. "Whoops."

They inhale dramatically, trying to recover. I grin and turn to the outfits I laid out the night before. "So, how does it feel to be ten?"

"The same as yesterday when we were nine." Ciel drawls.

I huff and smack the back of his head—lightly. "Ow! What was that for?!" he yelps while Fenian giggles.

"You're in the double digits now! You should be feeling different!"

Ciel glares at me. "You're never going to get married if you are a brute all the time!"

A tick mark pulses above my brow. "What did you say, you brat?!"

He sticks out his tongue and scampers off the bed. "You heard me, you gorilla." he says, disappearing into the bathroom.

A growl escapes me. A gorilla?! He's becoming more like Vincent every day. I can barely handle one of them—now there's two. Usually he's sweet, but on special occasions like this…he becomes a royal pain.

I turn to Fenian, still sitting calmly on the bed. I sigh dramatically. "Why does Ciel hate me so, Feni?"

He giggles. "He doesn't hate you; he loves you."

I smile a little. "Funny way of showing love."

"Don't worry about it, Rina. He's grumpy because I woke him up early."

Oh. That explains a lot. He's way sassier than normal.

"Ciel! ~ You better come out here or you're not getting your birthday present!" I call.

Fenian perks up. I smirk when I hear the door creak open.

"Present…?" Ciel mutters.

I pull two small boxes from my apron pockets and wave them teasingly. "Yep, so if you don't come out, you'll never receive the handmade present that I put time into."

Fenian's eyes sparkle at the blue wrapping. "No, no. I really want it!" Ciel exclaims, rushing over.

As he grabs for the box, I yank it away. "Ah, ah, I believe I deserve an apology first."

I tap my cheek. He sighs, and I feel a quick kiss brush it.

"Sorry…" he mutters, embarrassed.

Satisfied, I toss them each a box. "Thank you. Now, I hope you enjoy my presents."

They open them eagerly, peering inside. "Uh, sis, what is this?" Fenian asks.

I watch them lift the yarn bracelets, eyes puzzled. "Not to be rude, but this is different from your previous gifts." Ciel says.

I laugh and show them mine. "I call them sibling bracelets. I know they're just made of yarn, but I couldn't think of anything you didn't already have."

I take the bracelets from their hands and slide them on. "What do you think?"

"I love it! Thank you, Rina!" Fenian beams with a blush.

I glance at Ciel, half-expecting sass.

"It's…nice," he says softly.

Relieved, I wrap them both in a gentler hug. "Happy birthday, kiddos."

0o0o0o0o

After I help bathe and dress the boys—because of course, they demanded I do it—I send them off to run wild and start tidying up Ciel's room. They'd made a mess of it last night, no surprise. The staff and I still need to decorate part of the manor, so I hum under my breath while folding stray clothes and smoothing sheets. There's a bittersweet tug in my chest. Ten years old. I can't believe it.

It makes me think about my own age, about how long I've been here. It's been…what, eleven or twelve years since Vincent found me? Somewhere around there. I'm getting old. Soon, my metabolism will betray me, and cake will become my mortal enemy. That thought alone could send me into a downward spiral.

I sigh and trudge down the hall toward the kitchen to help with the birthday cake. I can't cook to save my life, but baking? That I can manage. Or at least fake well enough.

The kitchen is packed—chefs and servants bustling everywhere. I blanch at the sight. Getting crushed in the chaos was not on my to-do list today.

Through the crowd, I spot Tanaka stirring a bowl of frosting. Relief blooms in my chest. I weave through flailing arms and trays to reach him. "Tanaka!" I call out cheerfully.

He looks up and greets me with his usual warm smile. "Ah, Rina dear, good morning."

"So, what flavor is the cake?" I ask, even as the bustle continues around us.

He gives me a look that says he sees right through me and chuckles. "I know better than to tell you. You'll just go and tell the boys."

I glance up at the ceiling, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He shakes his head, amused, but before I can press him further, chaos enters in the form of two grinning boys. The twins burst into the kitchen, trying their best to look innocent.

Unfortunately for them, they've been caught red-handed.

A staff member immediately throws up her arm, blocking their path. "Ahh! Not one step closer, you two!"

One of the chefs laughs while turning back toward his work. "You'll have to wait until dinner to find out what kind of cake it is!"

The twins shoot, pleading looks at me, and I grimace guiltily. Sorry, boys—I'm a terrible spy.

"Aww..." they whine in unison.

"But we can't wait that long…" Fenian pouts, eyes glistening.

Ugh. Must. Not. Give. In. I focus on setting up a tray of food, refusing to make eye contact with the heartbreakers.

Ciel flashes one of his suspiciously angelic smiles. "Can we at least have a hint?"

A nearby servant answers without missing a beat, "It's a cake that you both love!"

"Maybe it's strawberry," Fenian guesses eagerly.

"Might be chocolate." Ciel adds, thoughtful.

Once the tray is set, I approach them again. "I will come to help you dress for the dinner party around six o'clock, alright?"

"Alright." they chime back together.

I watch them run off, free for the day. I sigh. Well...back to work.

0o0o0o0o

Two hours until dinner. I'm in my room, fresh out of a quick bath. I'd smelled like flour and sweat—not exactly birthday party material. Honestly, whoever designed maid uniforms with this many layers deserves to be publicly shamed.

I sit at my vanity combing through damp hair, the strands soaking the collar of my robe. My mind drifts, calm and blank for once—

Then a scream shatters it.

A blood-curdling one. Not the kind you make when you stub a toe or drop a plate. This one is soaked in terror.

I freeze. My brush slips from my hand.

What the hell...?

My heart leaps. I bolt upright, rush to the door, and lock it. My mind races, pulse hammering against my ribs. Pacing across the room, I drop to my knees and reach under the bed.

My makeshift pack is right where I left it.

I rip it open, my hands trembling. Inside: clothes, necessities, every carefully prepared item I've stored over the years. I strip out of my robe and yank on undergarments, trousers, and a shirt, barely registering the cold.

Next: belt, daggers, oxfords. I swing the pack onto my back and grab my sword from the closet. My breath is ragged. Every scream outside grows louder.

They're here.

I stare at the door one last time. It might be the last time I ever see this room.

I unlock it and crack it open. The hallway is eerily empty.

Find the twins. Now.

But where the hell are they? Their bedrooms? Still hiding? Already on the run?

Damn it.

I move in a crouch, staying quiet, just as Lady Midford taught me. At the corner, I spot a man stabbing a maid—right in the open. Fury roars through me. I rush him, silent as a shadow, and drive my blade through his back. No hesitation. No time. No forgiveness.

I know guilt will come later. I'll deal with it when I survive.

Another enemy appears. He charges me, knife out. I slash my sword across his chest—quick, clean, final. Screams echo all around, bouncing off the manor's walls like a siren song of chaos.

Then I hear one—close. Vincent and Rachel's room.

I rush to the door. It's ajar. I push it open and find—

No.

Rachel's lifeless body, blood flooding the floor.

Vincent cradles her, crumpled beside her. His chest rises in shallow gasps.

No, no, no.

A man stands over them, his back to me. Rage drowns my thoughts. I charge and stab him with a scream so raw it tears from my throat. Over and over, I strike. He drops. I don't care. He's done.

I collapse to my knees.

"V-V-Vincent…" My voice breaks.

He turns his head toward me, barely, and I see the pain twist his face. "R…ina…" he rasps.

Tears cloud my vision. "Y-You'll make it, right?" I whisper, even as blood pools faster than I can think.

I press trembling hands to the wound. Pointless. Too late.

He smiles—barely. "S-Save…y-yourself…the…b-boys."

"No," I sob. "I-I can't just leave you here—!"

"You…promised." he chokes out. Blood trails from his mouth.

I tremble all over. "You can't leave me. You promised to take care of me!" My voice rises in anguish. "You can't leave me!"

His hand finds mine. His fingers are so cold.

"I-I'm…sorry," he coughs, blood splattering. "I couldn't…a-better…f-father…"

The light in his eyes fades.

I freeze. I can't breathe.

No…no, you can't die. Not you. Not now.

I scream.

"VINCENT!"

I collapse against his chest, sobbing into the blood-soaked fabric. I cling to his jacket like it'll anchor me to reality. But it won't. He's gone. They both are.

I hear the door creak. My head jerks up.

Tanaka.

He enters calmly, eyes locked on me. No time wasted.

"Rina, dear. We will have time to grieve later. But I need your help to finish off as many enemies as possible."

I sniffle, nod, and let him wipe my face with a handkerchief. He lifts me by the shoulders, steadying me.

"We must find the twins." he says.

My heart clenches, but I force a breath and bend to reclaim my sword. My hand is shaky, but my voice is steady. "I'm going to kill anyone who gets in my way."

He squeezes my shoulder. "We shall try our best to honor the Earl's final wishes."

Without another glance back, I step through the doorway.

I will make you proud. Both of you.

Tanaka and I fight back-to-back down the hall, cutting through enemy after enemy. I don't know how much time passes. It's endless. Blood sprays. My muscles ache. I lose count after twenty bodies.

I grunt, deflecting another sword blow. This one's strong. I struggle under the weight of it.

He's too powerful.

I duck, stomp his foot, punch his face, and drive my sword through him. Cheap? Yes. Effective? Also yes.

I'm panting hard, chest tight. The world blurs around the edges.

I'm running out of strength.

The next attacker slips past my swing and stabs into my shoulder. Pain lances through me.

I slam into the wall, sliding down.

More footsteps. More enemies. Tanaka fights ahead of me. I lean heavily against the stone.

Then—

"Is…is someone there?!"

My heart skips. One of the twins.

"Tanaka!"

He turns. Too exposed.

"Tanaka, look out!" I scream.

A sword runs through his back.

I force myself up, blood soaking my shirt. I dash forward. The man doesn't see me coming. I cut him down.

Another man stands behind Fenian.

My dagger flies before I even think.

Straight into his skull.

Tanaka's on the floor, bleeding out. I collapse beside him as Fenian rushes up, wide-eyed and shaking.

"R-R-Rina!"

I clutch my wounded shoulder, sword dragging beside me.

"Are you okay? W-Where's Ciel?" I ask, panic rising.

"He took off—left before me—" Fenian stammers.

I nod, trembling. "Then we need to find him. Now."

I push up with a cry. Fenian reaches to help, but then—

A hand grabs him from behind.

My heart stops.

Another man grabs me, yanking me back.

"Fenian!" I scream, thrashing in the grip.

A cloth presses to his face. He struggles.

"Sis!" he chokes out, terrified.

I can't move. Can't break free. My shoulder is screaming in pain. He's slipping—

"We'll meet again, Fenian!" I shout with every ounce of strength I have. "I don't care what I have to do—I'll find you!"

The man holding me stiffens. "The Phantomhive has a daughter?" he mutters.

Before I can hear anything else, something heavy crashes into my skull.

Blackness swallows me whole.

I'm sorry, Vincent. I couldn't save the twins…

Chapter Text

The smell of smoke is what brings me back.

My head throbs with every heartbeat, and my shoulder screams in pain. For a few moments, I can't even open my eyes—but when I do, I see fire licking the walls in front of me.

Oh my god.

The manor's burning.

I groan as I sit up, coughing harshly as smoke fills my lungs.

Tanaka—!

I turn and find him still lying unconscious on the floor.

Somehow, he's still breathing. My neck burns and my shoulder hasn't stopped bleeding. Wincing, I tear the bottom of my long shirt and quickly wrap a makeshift bandage around the wound.

It's not much, but it'll have to slow the blood loss.

I grab my sword and stumble toward Tanaka. His injuries are severe—too severe. It would take a miracle to save him, but I refuse to leave him behind. Slumping him against the wall, I crouch with my back to him and hook his arms and legs over my shoulders.

When I lift, I almost buckle under his weight—but somehow, I steady myself.

Gritting my teeth, I begin trudging through the inferno, step by shaky step. The heat intensifies with each hallway I pass. Smoke thickens, choking out the air. My back aches, my legs wobble. But I keep going.

Then I see it: the main staircase.

It's on fire too.

I stare at it for half a second before charging forward—there's no time to hesitate. Flames lick at my pants, searing the fabric straight into my calves. I scream, unable to help it. The pain is unbearable, burning into my skin as I force my legs to carry us down.

By the time I reach the bottom, I'm gasping, my vision blurred from smoke and agony.

The front door is just ahead. I lunge for it, shoving it open with one last surge of adrenaline, and stagger out into the snow.

The cold hits like a slap—crisp and brutal—but it's a breath of life. I drag Tanaka far from the blazing manor and collapse beside him. My pants are singed, my shirt hangs in tatters, and now the snow's soaking into my burned skin. Shivering violently, I tear open my pack and wrap myself in the spare clothes, layering the rest over Tanaka.

It's not enough. But it's something.

Stars dot the sky above us as I lie on the frozen ground, unable to move a finger.

My body's broken. My throat is raw.

My eyes are too dry for more tears, but my chest aches with grief.

I curl into Tanaka's side for warmth, even though he's bleeding out. Even though there's nothing more I can do.

Will we be saved?

Or had death finally come for me?

Darkness creeps in again, and I pass out cold.

0o0o0o0o

A week or so later…

It's cold and gray outside, but the fireplace keeps the room warm. Bland wallpaper, white sheets—it feels like a hospital room, only without the smell.

Apparently, Madam Red brought us here after word spread about the fire from the townspeople that we oversee.

They rushed us to a local clinic first because Tanaka's wounds were too severe. We both passed out in the snow. Some of the manor staff made it out too. They helped us. Somehow.

Tanaka's still recovering—he was hurt worse than me. I insisted we be in the same room.

I couldn't handle being alone.

The days have blurred together. I think it's been a couple of weeks, maybe more. I'm not sure. The passage of time feels unreal.

I've got first-degree burns on my legs, bruised ribs, a healing lump on the back of my head, and that shoulder wound. I only get out of bed to use the bathroom. Otherwise, I just sit here, staring out the window. Watching snow fall beneath the gray-blue sky.

Christmas passed already, and I wasn't even aware of it.

It's fine since I don't have a family to celebrate with anymore.

I wonder if I'm meant to have a family at all.

This is the second one I've lost. Maybe I really am cursed.

Leaning my forehead to the glass, I watch my breath fog the pane. My reflection stares back—sunken eyes, pale skin. I haven't eaten much. Just nibbles of bread. These are the signs of grief. I know them well.

But the guilt—it isn't about who I killed. It's that I failed.

I failed to protect the boys.

Every day, the same haunting thought loops in my mind: I hope they're alive.

It's the only reason I haven't given up completely. The only reason I can keep breathing.

Fenian's terrified eyes still flash through my mind before I blacked out. The helplessness. His scream.

Tears roll down my cheeks. God, I wish I could go back. I'd do anything to save him.

But I can't.

A voice croaks behind me. "R-Rina?"

I turn sharply. Tanaka's eyes blink open with confusion and discomfort. I nearly fall out of bed as I scramble to him, pain flaring through my side. "Tanaka!" I clutch his hand, tears springing back to my eyes. "Thank god, you came back!"

He gives a faint smile. "It's good to know you made it out alive." He coughs dryly. "...How about the twins?" he rasps after clearing his throat.

My smile falters. I look down. "I-I lost them..."

Tanaka reaches with his other hand, wrapping it around mine. The weight of his sadness matches mine.

"You—We have tried our best to protect the young masters." he says softly.

"I should've tried harder. It's my fault they got caught."

His brow furrows. "You did what you could. Do not blame yourself anymore. You must focus on finding them now."

I nod slowly. "I suppose so, Tanaka...I think I need time to mourn though."

"Understandable. As do I."

I give him a sad smile and gently slip my hand from his grasp. "I shall let you rest now."

Climbing back into bed, I turn to face the wall. I feel Tanaka's gaze linger on me, but I don't meet it.

The fire crackles, and warmth finally starts to lull me into sleep.

0o0o0o0o

Two weeks later…

The funeral has passed, but Undertaker hasn't buried them yet. He asked me to meet him at the family graveyard. Tanaka couldn't come—he's still too injured. My ribs and shoulder are healing, but the burns still throb with every step.

The carriage stops, and I step out. My breath catches in my throat.

The manor is gone.

Nothing but crumbled stone and ash. Not even a room remains. Just a skeleton of what once was.

Clutching my cloak tighter, I take a shaky breath and force myself to walk. I round the ruins, heading toward the Phantomhive family cemetery.

My heart pounds. My vision blurs. I've cried so much already, but the ache won't stop.

Undertaker waits at the grave. I hurry toward him, trying to keep myself steady.

"Good morning, Undertaker." I say softly.

He cackles in that maddening way. "Hello, little lost girl."

A tick mark twitches on my temple. "Must you always address me so?"

He shrugs, grinning. "Am I wrong though?"

I glare but let it slide. I don't have the energy.

My eyes drift to the headstones. Vincent. Rachel. And next to Vincent's—Ciel and Fenian.

My chest tightens. I rub the ache.

Kneeling in the snow, I bow my head. "Thank you for all that you have done. Your presence shall leave an imprint on my deepest memories." I whisper at Vincent's grave, my hands fisting snow.

The tears come again. They always do.

I stay like that for minutes before finally standing, brushing the snow off my knees. I wipe my eyes, cheeks stinging. Undertaker watches me with a rare frown.

"How are you feeling?" I ask quietly. I know he and Vincent had…history.

His face is unreadable beneath his hair. "Nothing particularly." he mutters.

"I see." Silence falls. My thoughts spiral.

"How long do you think till I'm not lost anymore?" I ask the sky, voice small.

"That depends on you, dearie."

I nod faintly. "How true that is."

Then he places a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, startled.

He offers an envelope. "The earl asked me to deliver this…if he died and you survived."

I blink and take it carefully. "Is that so?"

I slip it into my coat and curtsy. "Thank you for everything, Undertaker. I shall be taking my leave now."

As I walk away, his voice follows me.

"You better watch where you step from here on out. Everything comes out of the dark at some point."

A chill snakes down my spine. I don't look back.

0o0o0o0o

In the carriage, I finally take the envelope out.

The Phantomhive wax seal. My name scrawled on the front.

My fingers tremble. I don't want to open it. I'm terrified of what's inside. A will? A goodbye?

But I can't delay forever.

Slowly, I break the seal and unfold the letter:

To Miss Rina Renee Howell,

It is with a heavy heart that I commit these words to paper, and I confess I have rewritten them more times than I care to admit. For once, I find myself at a loss—an unusual occurrence, as I am sure you would agree.

Amusing, perhaps, in its irony.

If this letter has reached your hands, then it must be that I have departed from this world. I am truly sorry—for the sorrow my absence shall bring, and for leaving you in a world where you may feel most bereft of comfort. That was never my intention, dear girl. I pray with all that remains of me that the twins have survived as well.

I hesitate to call this a letter, for it may better be described as a private addendum to my will. There is something I kept from you—indeed, even from Rachel, though she eventually lent her reluctant blessing. When I first came to see you as something more than a nameless waif in unfortunate circumstances, I resolved to formally adopt you into the Phantomhive lineage.

Henceforth, you are—by both name and right—Miss Rina Renee Howell-Phantomhive. A rather grand appellation, I must admit.

Were I you, I should choose to use Phantomhive alone. It is, I daresay, the more elegant surname.

I imagine this revelation may come as a great shock, and I only hope you will not look upon this act with bitterness. Know that I made such arrangements in order to provide for you even in my absence—entrusting you not only with our name, but also with the hope that you would continue to care for the boys, should they be found or remain by your side, until they come of age.

Neither Rachel's family nor mine will be pleased by what I have done.

You must forgive us both in advance for whatever difficulties may arise as a result.

But know this: by the authority of my title, you are now heir to all that bears the Phantomhive name—estate, fortune, lands, and all personal holdings secured at the townhouse until Ciel becomes an adult. If the boys have not survived…then all is yours to govern as you see fit.

If the burden proves too heavy, you need only contact the Midford family. They shall act in accordance with your wishes.

Above all else, Rina, I entreat you: be well. Find joy. Marry if your heart compels you to do so, bear children, and cherish them as I cherished the boys. It may take time, perhaps years, to reconcile yourself to the grief of our loss—but I implore you not to surrender to despair.

You are stronger than you know, and you are far from alone.

You shall ever remain in my thoughts, wherever I now dwell.

In eternal regard,

From the Phantomhive family and
Earl of the Phantomhive Estate,
Vincent Phantomhive
Rachel Phantomhive

My hands go slack. The paper crinkles as I grip it, stunned.

He…He changed my name.

He adopted me.

Tears fall freely, silently. My body trembles as I lift the letter to my forehead.

A sob bursts out of me. "Idiot…h-he really was..."

0o0o0o0o

The end of the month nears. I've been discharged from the hospital. My shoulder barely hurts now—just a scar left behind. My ribs are better. My legs, though, still wrapped tight.

Burns don't go away so easily nor the metaphorical ones.

I stay at the townhouse in London. Alone. Tanaka's still healing, but when he's well, I'll care for him.

I told him about the letter—about being a Phantomhive now. He didn't seem surprised. I think Vincent told him, those sly old men.

I haven't touched any of the inheritance yet. I live simply. Cleaning. Cooking. No shoes.

It's strange and familiar.

But the snow keeps falling. Cold seeps into everything.

December feels cursed.

I mop the floors just to do something. Wearing a green skirt and a cream blouse—no corset. I only wear one in public, and no one's here to stop me.

Nina still sends me clothes. Gives me discounts too.

I work the mop into the tile aggressively. The kitchen is a disaster from my last attempt at cooking. My hair falls into my eyes again, and I tie it up quickly.

Then I freeze.

There's a presence behind me. I feel it. Something familiar yet not—

Without turning, I slide over to the counter, grip the knife stand, and hurl one behind me in a flash. It thunks into the doorway.

I spin, poised to strike.

And stop.

A man in a black butler's uniform. And a child.

My glare fades.

I stare at the boy—and recognition hits like lightning.

My breath catches.

My hand rises to my lips.

"You…"

His eyes meet mine—wide, solemn, blue.

His voice shakes. "Rina. It's me, Ciel. I'm back."

I rush forward and wrap him in my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. "I-I thought I'd n-never see you guys again."

My heart throbs wildly in my chest.

He clings to me with all his strength. "I-I thought you may have died."

Tears wet my neck.

I chuckle weakly. "Me? Die? Don't be silly."

But he doesn't smile. His eye says it all.

I study his face. His eye…the patch…God, what happened to him?

I brush my fingers over it gently. "Does it hurt?"

"No, not really."

I nod, then tilt my head. I wipe my wet eyes.

"While I feel we have much to catch up on…I do have one question."

I grab his shoulders and yank him closer, my glare sharp enough to slice through steel. He stiffens, startled by the intensity in my eyes, and waits, frozen, for what I'll say next. My other hand comes up and squishes his face, forcing his lips together.

He shoots me a sour look, but I don't care.

"You wanna tell me why you're using your brother's name, Fenian?"

He jerks away from me, stumbling a few steps back. "H-How?" he stammers, voice cracking.

I don't blink. My suspicion burns into him. He won't meet my eyes—he never does when he lies.

Behind him, the man in black steps forward, his eyes narrowed in visible irritation. I bristle.

Why the hell is he glaring at me?

A chill prickles up my spine as his presence darkens the room.

"Young master, shall I take care of her?" the man asks coolly, pulling at his gloves.

I stare, both uneasy and transfixed. There's something inhuman about him—something that stirs every instinct I have to run—but also to stay.

But before I can react, Fenian spins around in a panic.

"No! Don't ever touch her with bad intentions! That's an order!" he snaps.

The man bows slightly, lips curling. "Understood, sir."

Just like that, the oppressive air vanishes.

My brows knit together in confusion—what even is this dynamic?

Shoving past Fenian, I approach the stranger with cautious steps. The closer I get, the more obvious it becomes: holy hell, this man is hot. Dangerously hot. Like—sinfully carved by God just to test me—hot.

I catch myself ogling and quickly shake my head to knock lose the thought.

"You. Who are you?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

He gives me a closed-eye smile, hand to chest like he's in a damn stage play. "I am Sebastian Michaelis. I will be serving the Phantomhive family as the head butler from now on."

"Huh?! Butlers for the family are selectively chosen and are put through multiple tests!"

Sebastian's eyes gleam with amusement while Fenian smirks. "He saved my life—the reason I'm here. He is worthy of a Phantomhive butler."

My jaw slackens. He...saved him? From the ones who took him?

Suddenly, a debt forms inside my chest, knotting there. If Fenian trusts him, I suppose I should at least be curious.

A warm smile tugs at my lips. "Ah, is that so?" I murmur.

I take Sebastian's hand. He tilts his head, puzzled, but I pull him into a tight hug anyway. Fenian lets out a gasp behind me, but I hardly hear it.

Sebastian freezes in my arms.

"Thank you, really. From the bottom of my heart."

I let go, eyes wet but smiling. Sebastian looks thoroughly stunned.

I wipe at my face and turn back to Fenian. It's time for answers.

"Now, I would like to know why you are using Ciel's name. You cannot fool me; I can tell the difference between your voices quite clearly."

His expression darkens. "It's none of your business." he says flatly.

I scoff. "Oh? Really now? It's not my business that the children I helped raise and love for a quarter of my life were magically saved? Well, excuse me for my concerns." My arms cross tightly.

His cheeks lose color and he coughs. "I just meant that a lot happened."

"I assume so. You're not exactly in the best condition physically—and from what I can tell, mentally as well." I pause, then soften. "I'll give you time to explain it when you feel ready. I owe you that much."

He exhales in quiet relief.

"There's just one thing," I add, my voice catching. "Where is your brother?"

The silence that follows confirms what I fear.

His fists clench. His eyes go pitch black with grief. I inhale shakily and take a step back. My body sways. The weight of it all is too much.

Ciel is truly gone…?

The kitchen blurs. My breath speeds up. I grip my forehead, trying to ground myself, but the sounds of my own heartbeat drown everything else out.

It's like being pulled underwater—gasping for air that won't come. My knees buckle, and I reach for the counter before I collapse completely.

I'm not one for this. I'm still so weak…

"Rina?!" Fenian shouts, rushing toward me.

My vision tunnels. His panicked face is the last thing I see.

Polished black shoes enter my view, steps smooth and unhurried. "Young master, I do believe she is having a panic attack." Sebastian says calmly.

Panic attack?

The words echo, distant—then everything goes black.

0o0o0o0o

I roll onto my side with a soft sigh. The bed's stiff, oddly so. That's strange.

Blinking awake, I mutter a curse and stretch—only to pause when I notice the wallpaper. My tired brain stalls. It's...familiar.

Too familiar.

The same pattern from the Phantomhive manor—before it burned down. I'd woken to it every day for eleven years.

Sitting up sharply, my heart races. What the hell? I swear I was at the townhouse. My head throbs as I swing my legs over the side and take in the room fully.

This is my old bedroom.

Did I dream everything? Vincent and Rachel's deaths? The twins? The fire?

I bolt out of the room, hope lighting a fire in my chest. The halls are just as I remember them.

Maybe…maybe it was all a nightmare.

Maybe I hadn't lost everything.

I squeal and run to Vincent's study.

I have to see him—to throw my arms around him, to say what I never got the chance to. I can still picture the pallor of his corpse in that terrible dream. I can't bear it.

My lungs are burning by the time I reach the door. I don't even knock. I shove it open.

"Vincent—!"

But he's not there.

Instead, Sebastian is serving tea to Fenian, who sits calmly in Vincent's chair.

Both look up, startled.

"Rina, you're awake." Fenian says, rising.

I stagger back, heart sinking. My hand grabs my head on instinct, shaking it as memories surge forward in a torrent. Everything was real.

The nightmare was truth.

I crumple to the ground, knees tucked to my chest, trembling as I try not to scream.

A light touch on my back makes me flinch.

"Rina..." Fenian whispers.

"How...?" I croak, eyes locked on the carpet.

I remember spilling tea there once—staining it. Scrubbing for hours while Vincent scolded me. But now the spot is gone.

"H-How is the manor back?"

Fenian stiffens beside me, then pats my back. "Sebastian restored it."

I lift my head slowly, staring around the room. "There's no way. It's like it never left."

"Sebastian, leave us." Fenian commands.

The butler bows and silently exits with the tea tray.

Fenian turns to me again. "I remembered the colors. The details. I wanted it to appear the same as it was before."

"Why," I breathe, voice breaking. "Why would you want to recreate it? I cannot bear to even look at it."

His face softens only slightly as he reaches out, brushing away my tears. I hadn't even noticed them.

"I have come back with a mission."

"Mission?" I sniff.

He nods, stepping toward the window behind the desk. Hands behind his back, he looks out. "I came back to take revenge on those who did this to us."

He glances over his shoulder, eyes sharp, half his face cast in shadow.

I freeze, the air in the room thick. Revenge?

I rise and quietly walk up behind him. He watches me approach, and I stare down at him with aching sadness.

Gently, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, resting my chin against the side of his head.

He doesn't resist.

Instead, he leans back into me with a sigh. I kiss his temple.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, without thinking.

He clasps my arm, trembling slightly. "Don't apologize. I don't blame you in the slightest. You tried your best for us."

My body loosens.

The burden I've carried begins to crack.

"R-Really? You really don't?"

He shakes his head. "Yes, really. So stop worrying about it and let it be in the past."

I glance at the window, our reflections faint. His nails press into my wrist just a bit.

"I can't stand seeing you like this..." he murmurs, barely audible.

I smile faintly. "Isn't that something I should be saying?"

"Let me protect you now." Fenian says, turning to face me.

His eyes are fierce, brow furrowed in that adorable, stubborn way.

I laugh softly. That expression gives me hope—my brother is still in there.

I straighten. "Sorry but not sorry, but I believe that is still my job."

I flick his forehead with a smirk. He yelps and glares.

"My word is final about the matter. I will protect you from now on. So, stop worrying and stay here by my side."

His determination makes my heart ache. "Okay, fine. I will stay by your side..." I pause, tapping my chin theatrically. "...while protecting you."

His eyebrow twitches. "Listen to me—"

"No." I say, turning away.

He splutters behind me as I walk to the door. "Hold on just a minute—where do you think you're going?!"

I shrug. "Wherever I want. This is my manor too."

I grab the doorknob, glancing over my shoulder.

"W-What?" he stammers.

I smirk. "Apparently your father adopted me into the family." I turn fully, grinning. "I'm a Phantomhive—and officially your big sister."

The joy hits me like spring sunshine. I've missed this warmth.

He gapes, pale. "He really did that?"

"He did, really."

His face shifts—stunned, thoughtful, distant. I beam. "So that's why I'm going to make sure to take care of you from now on, little brother."

But his smile never comes.

His face sinks further into shadow, his gaze dark and distant.

Something weighs on him—too heavy for someone so young.

I sigh, frowning at his silence.

Turning him back into a normal child…it may never happen. If revenge is the only thing tethering him to life, then it's the only thing he'll cling to.

Still…I hope that one day, I'll see him smile again. Joyfully. Or even in sadness. Anything real.

Whatever he went through in that month changed him, deeply.

I can only imagine the horrors.

I leave the study and lean against the door, breathing in deeply to ground myself.

After a few minutes, I push off and head toward the kitchen. Even though it's been a month since I've been here, the manor feels etched into my bones. I know every hallway. Every turn. It's almost too familiar.

Too identical.

Same paintings. Same wallpaper. Even the furniture feels like it remembers me. I shiver.

Fenian was vague—too vague. That little seed of suspicion starts to grow. I need to watch him carefully. Whatever happened to him this month...it cost him more than his eye.

As I walk, I hum a soft, wandering tune. The hallways echo with memory.

I reach the staircase—the very one I once descended with Tanaka on my back. The memory is so vivid it makes my legs ache. The burns pulse faintly beneath my skin.

I take the stairs slowly, cautious, irrationally expecting them to catch fire beneath me. When I reach the bottom step, I let out a breathy laugh. Ridiculous.

But then, something clicks.

Wait…I fainted at the townhouse. So how did I end up here?

Oh.

Sebastian.

Of course. The recently hired, unfairly handsome butler. I really should greet him properly. But first—my stomach growls. Priorities.

I slip quietly toward the kitchen and ease the door open. Inside, Sebastian is focused on preparing what smells like lunch. Something savory fills the air. My mouth waters instantly.

He hasn't noticed me yet.

A wicked idea hits me.

Time to see if he's truly worthy of being called a Phantomhive butler.

I spot a knife lying on the counter and pad silently toward it. I'm barefoot—makes stealth easier. I pick it up, watching him closely for any reaction.

Nothing.

I aim, not to hit but to skim close—just a test. I inhale slowly…and throw.

The knife cuts through the air.

Before it can land, Sebastian drops the bowl he's stirring. In a flash, the knife is between his fingers.

My eyes widen. No one's ever reacted that fast.

He turns, expression calm, a closed-eye smile on his face.

"Did you need something, my lady?"

My jaw drops. I rush up, snatching the knife from his hand. "That was awesome! I've never seen someone react so quickly!"

He gives me that same infuriatingly unreadable smile. "Yes, how extraordinary of me."

Then he turns back to his cooking like I'm not even there.

I pout. "I was testing you, sorry." I say, rubbing the back of my head awkwardly.

"I see." he replies, flat.

His voice is emotionless. Cold. Okay, maybe hurling sharp objects wasn't the best way to start a friendship with a co-worker…or servant, technically.

But still—he could at least react like a human.

I cough softly to get his attention again. His eyes narrow.

I offer my hand. "My name is Rina. Nice to meet you."

His gaze flicks to my hand, then back to my face. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of how warm my cheeks feel. I've never been good with strangers.

Finally, with an audible sigh, he takes my hand. His glove is smooth. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Rina."

Then he turns back to his task. Without another word.

I stare, dumbfounded. My eyebrow twitches. Rude. Internally, I scream. I really do miss Tanaka.

Fine. Two can play this game.

I pretend he isn't there and start searching the cabinets for something to eat. Some of the storage has been rearranged, but I find my favorite dried oats and nearly weep with joy.

I grab a bowl, dump them in, then fetch some milk from the cooler.

Next—sugar and cinnamon. The best combo in the universe, other than chocolate. I start rifling through cabinets, opening and shutting doors until—ugh. They're on a high shelf.

I stand on my toes, grumbling. My pride stings—usually I'm proud of being taller than average. But these cabinets are monstrous.

I glance at Sebastian. No way he's going to help unless I ask. And even then...

I grab a chair and drag it over, cringing at the screeching sound it makes.

Something slams on the counter behind me.

"I shall get it if you stop making all this noise." he says, tone clipped.

He reaches up and retrieves the ingredients with ease, setting them gently in front of me.

I blink. "Thanks." I mumble.

He doesn't answer, but I know he hears me. I mix cinnamon and sugar into my cereal with giddy precision, like a witch making a potion.

I sit and take my first bite. Warm, sweet nostalgia hits my tongue. I hum in bliss. Childhood in a bowl.

"Sebastian, do you want some?" I offer cheerfully.

He turns just long enough to grimace. "No, thanks."

I pout. "Ehh. Your taste buds are missing out. This is the best meal out there, I'm telling you."

"I doubt that." he mutters, a smirk barely tugging at his lips.

I spoon in another bite, then glance over. "Oh—did you carry me back here?" I ask.

"I did."

I laugh softly, rubbing the back of my neck. "Ah, sorry again. I'm a bit of a handful."

"Indeed."

The spoon clinks in my bowl as I frown. The vibe is...icy. Repellent. I glare at his back.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

He turns, smiling that same fake, closed-eye smile that makes me want to throw something. "What gave you that idea?"

I cross my arms with a huff. "It's obvious. So, tell me—what did I do to offend you?"

He turns away. "I dislike you, that's all."

My chair scrapes across the floor as I rise. "How?! How can you dislike someone you've barely had a conversation with?!"

He says nothing. He's infuriating.

My fists curl. I storm to his side, watching him carefully. His posture stiffens, but he forces himself to stay casual. He's so…guarded. Cold. Was he always like this? Is it just me?

I wonder if he's just not a people person.

Or maybe…maybe it's just that he doesn't like me.

I poke his arm.

"Do you find me annoying by chance?" I ask, trying to understand.

He glances over. "You are quite a nuisance."

Ouch.

He turns to pour the mixture into a pan, completely unfazed.

I hop onto the counter and swing my legs. Somehow, I find his coldness kind of…cute? Annoying, sure—but entertaining.

"Please indulge me." I say with a flourish, gesturing around the room like a talk show host.

He sighs and finally faces me.

"You are simply in the way."

I blink. That's it?

I burst into laughter, clutching my chest. "T-That's it?"

His glare could probably set me on fire. "You only dislike me for that?"

I slide off the counter and approach him, calm now, though my eyes still sparkle with mischief. I stop just a few inches from his chest and tilt my head up to meet his gaze.

He stares back, unflinching. Searching me, maybe.

His eyes...they're striking. An amber brown shimmer tangled with red hues. Almost unnatural. Like glass over flames.

His features are too perfect. Pale skin, symmetrical jaw, eyes like something ancient in disguise. Why does he feel so familiar?

And why do I feel so drawn to him?

I raise my hand and gently cover his eyes.

"The things that are hidden from us," I murmur, "are often ugly truths."

I lower my hand again.

"But once they are open...those truths begin to grow into promises. Some last longer than others, but the definitive option still leaves much to our eyes. We begin to grow under those promises and keep them as self-observant wishes for the future where time hides."

I smile at the end, folding my hands behind my back. "Perhaps, you do not like that I remain a mystery to you. I hide many things, like everyone else," I continue softly. "Although, if you open your eyes to me long enough, you might find things you like about me—and things you hate. After all, that's something every person out there has to deal with, even friends and family."

He doesn't respond right away, just stares—calm, but oddly contemplative. I catch the flicker of wonder beneath the surface of his unreadable expression.

Then he smirks. "I doubt your words, but I shall take them into account. You are quite smart." he starts to say, but then mutters something under his breath I barely catch.

"…for a human."

The look he gives me sharpens—curious, almost ravenous. Like he's trying to peel back my skin with his eyes just to see what's underneath.

A shiver dances up my spine.

"W-Well, I shall take my leave for now! See you later!" I announce in a rush, jogging toward the door.

I feel his gaze clinging to me like static—too intense, too strange. It's eating me alive. I storm out as fast as I can, my heart thudding hard in my chest.

I was not expecting our first real conversation to go like that.

Ugh, I'm such an idiot.

I head upstairs quickly and make my way back to the study. Cracking the door open, I find Fenian still inside, sitting just where I left him.

"Your butler is a creep and an asshole. I'm not sure which is better." I announce as I push the door open wider and step in.

He glances over, unimpressed. "Leave him be. He doesn't like people unless he's forced to interact with them. And knowing you, you probably did such a thing."

I pout and flutter my lashes dramatically. "Who? Me? That's not true."

He stares flatly. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been."

I scratch my cheek, letting out a small giggle. "Who knows? I might be doing it on purpose." I skip the subject with a grin. "Anyway, you look bored. Let's play chess!"

"You're just as bad at that."

I frown, not in the mood for his sass. "Shut up and play with me."

He sighs but rises to his feet.

We head to the game room.

We play round after round, and, unsurprisingly, I lose every single one. Fenian smirks each time like he's savoring his victories. I try not to sulk.

Still...this feels nice. It feels good to sit across from him like this, like old times. To play a game that used to mean nothing more than a challenge between two stubborn siblings.

But even as I smile, my chest aches.

There's something about Fenian's new demeanor that reminds me too much of Ciel. Like there's no Fenian left in some ways. The quiet smugness, the sharp wit, the way he moves his pieces like the world depends on it.

It's not just eerie—it's painful.

I watch him, brow furrowed.

It's like Ciel keeps bleeding through him, seeping into the cracks of Fenian's identity. And the more it happens, the more I feel like I'm losing Fenian, too.

Maybe...maybe something else has taken hold of him.

Maybe this new Fenian isn't just grief-stricken or angry.

Maybe he's being consumed.

Chapter Text

The hallways drag with memory as I drift through them, barely aware of where my feet are going. I can still picture where I killed people during the attack—bodies scattered across the floor, blood soaking the tiles. Even though the manor was reduced to ash, the rebuilt version still feels like a wound. Fresh. Unhealed. Familiar in all the wrong ways.

Honestly, I'm not surprised I've got a bit of PTSD. Too much happened too fast.

The stress alone could crush anyone.

It's early morning, and I haven't slept. My room haunts me in its stillness. Same design I had for eleven years. But now it's just a shell. A coffin for the past.

What once felt like home now looks like a place I no longer belong.

This entire damn manor feels like it's closing in on me.

I end up outside without realizing I've made the decision.

A week and a half back, and every day feels further from routine. I barely see Fenian—no, Ciel. He and Sebastian are always off doing something. Lessons, mostly.

Sebastian's taken his role as a tutor.

I hate it. Especially the way he smacks Ciel's hand with a riding crop when he gets answers wrong. I called him out for it. Ciel took his side—for once. I got so mad, I stormed off and punched the wall. Put a hole in it.

Sebastian said nothing, just glared and fixed it with a snap.

Lately, my temper flares with the tiniest spark. I don't know if it's grief, or helplessness, or both.

But I'm tired of pretending I'm fine.

The patio tiles sting my bare feet, chilled by the snow. I curl my toes, pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders, and step further into the cold anyway. I'm only in my robe and nightgown, a red scarf loosely wrapped around my neck. The moon hangs low in the sky.

The stars are faint tonight.

I exhale, watching my breath fog the air. It briefly warms my face.

I rub my hands together, trying to make heat from friction. Why did I even come out here? Maybe I thought the cold would freeze away everything I didn't want to feel.

"Praying?" a voice murmurs behind me.

I flinch, pulse spiking—but I already know who it is. How the hell did I not feel his presence?

I don't turn. I just let out a breath and chuckle lightly. "I don't think I've prayed ever in my life," I say. "Though I guess I prayed one time Mom wouldn't find out I colored on the walls."

I hear snow crunch softly as Sebastian appears at my side, his black silhouette sharp against the moonlight.

"Do you not believe in God?" he asks, raising a brow.

It surprises me, this sudden interest in my life. It even makes me smile.

"Never have. Wasn't raised to," I say with a half-shrug. "Do you believe?"

He blinks at me, then smirks, sharp and unreadable. "I don't particularly believe in God himself."

I sweatdrop. That wasn't an answer.

"A bit confusing, but okay." I mumble, trying to make sense of it.

The wind nips at my skin, and I pull the blanket tighter. I shiver. "I'm surprised you're awake." I offer, more to fill the silence than anything.

He glances at the moon, distant. "I do not get much sleep."

I chuckle faintly. "I've been getting poor sleep lately. This manor haunts me."

His eyes flick toward me. "I see. You lived with the young master before, correct?"

I nod slowly. "Did he not tell you?"

"He did. I was only confirming the fact. A big ordeal went down at this estate."

I hum softly. "It did, truly. I'm amazed at your ability to reconstruct the manor the way it was."

"Indeed. It was only a simple effort."

I blink. "There is no way in hell it was simple as a flick of a finger." He smirks again for whatever reason, but I press on, "It should take days and days of work to even build it! It's not possible!"

He just smirks wider, eyes glinting down at me. "I was only acting as head Phantomhive butler. It is my duty to uphold the young master's expectations."

My eye twitches. "More like one hell of a butler!" I snap. This man defies logic. "Who are you, Sebastian Michaelis?" I mutter, narrowing my gaze.

He smiles like a devil with a secret. "That's a secret." he whispers, putting a finger to his lips.

I sigh, but can't help smirking. "So, does this mean you're finally opening up to me, Sebastian?"

He turns and walks away before I can even register the question in the air. "If you stand out here any longer, you will freeze to death in that garb."

Then he's gone. Just like that.

I snort to myself and shuffle back inside, trailing snow behind me. The manor's warmth hits instantly, tingling back into my frozen feet and hands. I smile softly as I climb the stairs, heart just a little lighter.

Maybe someday…Sebastian will see me in a brighter light.

0o0o0o0o

It's late into the night—the quiet end of the day. Crickets chirp just beyond the open window, and the moonlight streams in, bathing the bathroom in silver. I soak in the tub, letting the lukewarm water lap against my skin.

I cup it absentmindedly in my hands, watching it slip through my fingers like my thoughts—heavy, formless, and persistent.

The new manor has plumbing, which I'm endlessly thankful for. The old one couldn't—it was too aged, its foundation too stubborn. A remnant of generations past. This one feels...cleaner. Not just literally, but emotionally.

Even so, it doesn't erase what's been lost.

I thought that once Ciel returned, I'd resume my place at his side as his nanny—maid, sister, something close. But every time I bring it up, he shuts me down immediately. "Sebastian will handle it." he says without hesitation.

Every time.

And every time, it stings a little more.

It's not Sebastian's fault—he's just doing his job.

No, it's Ciel I find myself resenting. Just a little.

I know I'm technically a woman of status now, but that doesn't dull the sharp, stabbing ache in my chest when he brushes me off.

I'd do anything to earn back that role again—anything to stay close, to be the one he depends on. I miss it. I miss him.

Maybe this is his way of putting distance between us. Ever since I told him I was his adoptive sister, he's been…different. More guarded. He avoids me when he can, and I don't understand why. I know he needs time—not just to adjust to me, but to whatever hell he's lived through while he was gone.

And honestly, I'm not sure I even want to know what he went through.

I stand suddenly, water cascading down my skin. No. I'm not going to let him push me away like this.

I grab a towel, wrapping it around myself as cold air bites at my damp skin. My hair drips down my back in wet ropes. I rub it out roughly with a second towel, then twist it up into a haphazard turbine. Padding back into my bedroom, I dry off, pull on a nightgown and some underwear, and bundle myself in a blanket.

Time for a sleepover ambush.

I smirk to myself, wicked with purpose, and snuff out the gaslights. No slippers—quieter that way. I sneak into the hallway, careful not to make a sound. If Sebastian's nearby, I'm toast. That man's hearing is unreal.

I've nearly died of fright more than once just from him appearing out of thin air in a dark corridor.

Ciel's probably been asleep for about fifteen minutes. I knock lightly on his door, then open it without waiting for an answer. The room is still and dark.

"Who is it?" he calls out, voice groggy and confused.

I smile, pushing the door open wider. "The best person in the world."

He huffs. "In your eyes. What do you want in the middle of the night?"

I frown at the sass but let it roll off. Still getting used to the sarcasm. It reminds me too much of his brother…of his father.

Slowly, I walk toward the bed. "I'm sleeping with you."

"W-What?!" His voice jumps an octave. Definitely blushing.

I feel around for a clear spot on the bed and climb under the covers without hesitation.

"Y-You can't just waltz in here demanding that!"

I snicker, reaching toward the shape of him in the dark. "I wasn't demanding. I was stating a fact."

I tug him gently into my arms. He resists, but I don't care. I flop us both down onto the pillows, tangled and awkward. His face ends up just inches from mine, and for a beat, we stare at each other. This is the first time I've seen him without his eyepatch, but between the dark and his hair, there's not much to see.

He goes still beside me.

"I'm not a child." he mutters.

I smirk, ruffling his hair. "To others, maybe not. But to me, you will always be."

"Let go of me."

I nestle in deeper. "No."

"I don't need coddling! I'm not the same child as you used to know!" he snaps, wriggling in my arms.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?!" My voice rises with frustration. "I know when someone I love has changed! Don't you get it? I'm trying to accept the new you!"

The words break out of me too fast, too raw. A choked sob slips past my lips, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, horrified. Too late.

Tears well up unbidden, and I sit up, trembling. My back to him now, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I don't want him to see me like this—not again.

I'm supposed to be the strong one.

My breathing is too loud in the silence. My chest tightens painfully, like there's a rope around my lungs. I clutch the sheets, fists white-knuckled.

What am I doing anymore?

There's a small shift in the covers. A light touch grazes my back—his fingers. I don't know what it means. Apology? Comfort? Uncertainty?

I tense under the contact.

"...I'm sorry." he murmurs.

I gently shrug off his hand and straighten up with a deep breath. "Don't worry about it. It's fine."

I start to stand, ready to leave before I fall apart completely—but then something slams into me from behind. I let out a startled yelp as arms wrap tightly around my waist.

"Don't," he whispers into my back. "...Don't leave."

I freeze. My arms hang at my sides, useless.

"I thought you didn't want me in your sight." I mutter, voice low and bitter. My fists tighten around the hem of my blanket.

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to. It was clear you wanted to avoid me for reasons I don't understand."

He gently grabs my shoulder, nudging me to turn. I let him.

He's standing on the bed now, face level with mine. His expression is unreadable in the dark.

"I was," he admits. "I was avoiding you for certain reasons. There are things I cannot tell you or let you see."

"Why not?" My voice cracks. "I know you better than anyone. Why don't you trust me, Feni?"

"I don't trust anyone. Not anymore."

His words hit like ice water. My head bows low, heart twisting.

Something inside him is broken. I can feel it now, fully, terrifyingly real. The sweet, stubborn little boy is still in there—but buried. What's left…it scares me.

The twins used to trust me completely. Now I'm just an outsider again.

Rage bubbles up inside me, sharp and hot. Whoever did this—whoever stole everything from us—I want them to suffer.

I want them to burn.

I'm so sick of this era. Of the endless grief. Of being alone.

Maybe I've always been alone.

Undertaker's words echo in my mind: You may find your way home someday. But right now, I don't even know where "home" is anymore.

I sway on my feet, lightheaded.

"Rina?" Ciel's voice slices through the haze. Concerned. Hesitant.

I let out a breathless laugh, more of a rasp. "You do trust me."

Before he can respond, I shove him down onto the bed.

"Hey!" he yells, bewildered.

I climb up after him, slow and deliberate. "If you don't trust me, prove it."

He glares. I cross my arms and stare down at him calmly. He says nothing.

I wasn't expecting him to.

We both know the truth.

After a pause, he lets out a sulky 'hmph' and cuddles into my pillow instead. Victory.

I lay down beside him, smirking. I reach over and flick his nose. "I think your terrible lying takes after mine."

He rubs his nose, sending a mini-glare my way. "Is that a challenge?"

"Nope. A fact." I chuckle and wrap my arms around his tiny frame, pulling him close. My fingers drift through his hair, soft and familiar. "Why won't you let me be your nanny anymore?"

His legs shift against my torso as he tries to get comfortable.

"I don't need one anymore."

"Really? Is that why you let Sebastian bathe, clothe, and feed you? Should I call him a 'nanny'?" I shoot back with a smirk, the image making me snicker.

"You don't need to do it anymore. You are a Phantomhive now, a lady no less. It is not your concern."

My eyes widen slightly. So that was what this was about.

"A lady? I don't know about that. I'd still rather be your nanny. That way I can be by your side more often."

He shakes his head into the pillow.

"Let Sebastian take care of me. I am no longer your concern."

I frown. That stings.

"Do you think I see you as a burden?" I grab his ear and tug it gently, earning a little whine. "You're no such thing. I loved you from the moment I saw you."

A soft smile creeps onto my lips as I nuzzle into his hair. He grumbles under his breath but doesn't pull away. I wonder, just briefly, if he's blushing.

"Leave the matter alone. All I want is for you to stay by my side and never leave it, understood?" he says, reaching up to push my cheek away.

"I couldn't agree more, little bro." I grin, satisfied.

I'm not sure when we fall asleep—just that we do.

0o0o0o0o

A soft clink wakes me. Metal tapping porcelain. I blink blearily, trying to figure out what made the noise. My eyes crack open—and there he is.

Sebastian. Standing beside the bed.

Staring at me with that unreadable, calculating expression.

I try to sit up but realize I can't move. I glance down and blink in surprise.

Ciel is draped entirely across me, arms and legs tangled like some clingy cat. He's snoring softly into my chest, and—ew—is that drool?

I'm literally trapped in a cage of limbs.

A quiet laugh escapes me. I stay still, unwilling to wake him yet. My gaze drifts toward Sebastian, who's now calmly pouring tea into porcelain cups like this is the most normal thing in the world.

I stifle a yawn, cupping my mouth. "Good morning," I whisper groggily.

"Good morning, Miss Rina." he replies smoothly.

I squint at him. "Did you rest any?"

"I am fine."

I frown, unimpressed with that deflection. "Liar." I shift slightly under Ciel's weight, trying to get comfortable.

"I do not lie." he says, holding out a teacup.

His eyes narrow just a touch, and I swear he's reading me—digging into something I haven't even admitted to myself.

Can he tell what I'm hiding?

My stomach dips. I take the cup from him carefully, sweatdropping under his stare. "Everyone lies," I say lightly, but he doesn't respond.

He just walks toward the window and throws the curtains open in one sharp motion.

Bright morning light slashes across the room.

"Agh! Close it!" I yelp, shielding my face as the sunlight scorches my still-sleepy eyes.

Sebastian smirks—smirks—at my misery.

My flailing ends up jostling Ciel awake.

He stirs, brows furrowed and face a mess of sleep and confusion. With a groggy grunt, he lifts a hand and rubs at his eyes—both eyes.

Wait. Both?

My smile falters. Did he…? My heart skips as realization hits, and before I can even ask—

He jolts, panic flashing across his face. One hand slaps over his right eye. "D-Did you see it?!" he blurts, scrambling off me and to the other side of the bed.

I blink at him, tilting my head.

"Your eye? What about it?" I ask, curious now. He's pale and breathing hard. Poor thing—he's terrified I might've seen something.

I soften. "No, I didn't." My voice is calm, serious.

I decide to leave the subject alone until he's ready to share.

He exhales shakily, visibly relieved. I wonder again why it scares him so much—why me seeing it would matter. Maybe he doesn't want me to see his trauma. Whatever the reason, I'll respect it. Even if it leaves me in the dark.

I lift the teacup Sebastian handed me and take a tentative sip. It's warm. Pleasantly aromatic—until it hits my tongue.

Bitter. Overwhelmingly bitter.

I gag, nearly spitting it back into the cup.

"Sebastian, is this poison?" I croak, pale.

From beside me, Ciel snickers. Sebastian looks unimpressed.

0o0o0o0o

Sebastian keeps Ciel's days busy with an endless rotation of tasks and lessons. Watching him learn—grow, even if he doesn't realize it—brings a strange kind of warmth to my chest. Spring has returned to England, and with it, the snow is finally gone. I welcome the thaw. Snow brings back memories I'd rather leave buried. Spring feels like a reset.

With little else to do in the manor, I've taken to shadowing them. Today, I join Sebastian for one of Ciel's outdoor lessons. Apparently, it's a shooting exercise.

We stand in the garden. There's a light breeze, but the sun keeps the chill at bay.

Ciel holds the rifle awkwardly, trying to aim. From what I've heard, this isn't his first attempt. Doesn't look like it's helping.

The gun's clearly too big for him.

Sebastian steps behind him and taps his shoulder with a riding crop. "You have to stand more firmly."

Ciel squints down the sight, focusing hard. Sebastian moves closer, hands adjusting the rifle carefully. "If you keep going like this, you can only dream of hunting on horseback."

Ciel frowns and fires. The shot goes wide. Completely misses the target.

Sebastian sighs quietly behind him. I bring a palm to my forehead.

"Move aside, little lord." I say, stepping up. I gently take the gun and shift into a stance Lady Midford once taught me. It's been ages since I last held a rifle. This one's clunky compared to modern ones.

Still, I adjust my posture, inhale deeply, then exhale and squeeze the trigger.

The shot rings out—and hits the outer ring.

Not perfect, but satisfying. I toss my hair back dramatically and flash a grin. "See right there, boys? That's what you call raw talent."

Ciel stares at me with a flat expression. Sebastian looks…amused.

"Raw talent? You didn't even hit the middle!" Ciel snaps, pointing at the target.

I toss the rifle to Sebastian, not worried. He catches it effortlessly, though he shoots me a brief glare.

"The thing is, brother," I say, tone sly, "I learned that in only a week. You haven't even hit the board in two."

I cackle. He turns with a huff and stomps away.

"Must you tease the young master so?" Sebastian asks beside me.

I shrug, still grinning. "We're siblings, practically. Older ones are supposed to bully the younger ones—it's a birthright."

He smirks faintly and falls into step beside me, rifle in hand.

"I do not have siblings." he remarks as we walk.

"Don't worry. I'm an only child too." I flash a cheeky smile.

He hums in thought. "I'm surprised."

"Huh? Really? Why's that?" I glance at him, puzzled.

He meets my eyes briefly.

"You're the type that is nurturing, no?"

"Type?" I echo, tilting my head.

His gaze shifts to Ciel in the distance. "The type of woman who would do anything for what she loves. Self-sacrificial and nurturing all in one."

I blink, caught off guard by the observation.

"Well…I suppose so," I admit, eyes drifting to Ciel's small form. For a moment, I imagine his twin walking beside him. "Though I wouldn't say it's because I'm a woman. Plenty of people would do the same—for someone they love."

Sebastian's eyes narrow slightly.

"Humans are very selfish. They will say or do anything to gain someone's trust—only to betray them the moment things don't go their way."

I frown but choose not to argue. I know I'm not like that. I've never wavered in who I protect, or why.

"I won't say you're wrong. Humans are a horrible species." I sigh. "Yet we still live as if the world isn't crumbling around us—and as if we didn't help cause it. There must be something beautiful in us…if we're still allowed to keep living and making mistakes."

"You are the last person I expect wisdom from." he says flatly.

I tilt my head at him, amused. "Just because I act the way I do doesn't mean I lack intelligence. Never judge a book by its cover."

We continue walking, side by side, toward the manor in silence—for once, companionable.

Chapter Text

Time moves forward with a steady rhythm, and with it, the manor shifts. Spring is beginning to fade, and the thought tugs at my mood. I'm not ready for summer's heat to suffocate me just yet.

Lately, Ciel's been thriving in Sebastian's lessons. Every time I praise him, he offers this small, proud smile that makes my chest ache in the best way.

It's refreshing—lightens something in me I hadn't noticed was heavy.

Even Sebastian's cooking has improved...shockingly. And his tea—God, it used to be awful. I had been clinging to my own stash, savoring every cup like a secret rebellion. But lately? It's actually drinkable.

I hang around the kitchen often now, bored out of my skull. Ciel refuses to let me help with anything, which means I have nothing to do. I'm going stir-crazy. I think I might be driving him insane with my endless babbling.

Sebastian doesn't seem to mind my company—much. I think he's just tolerating me at this point, slowly adjusting to the constant presence. Sometimes I walk in and immediately backtrack if I catch one whiff of the storm cloud hovering over him.

Ciel's moods rub off on him easily.

I can feel it when I step into the same room. It's weird—like I can read his atmosphere on instinct.

When he's really ticked off, I don't hesitate to high-tail it out of there before he decides to take it out on me. I chuckle at the memory of one such escape, amused at how terrifying his glare can be.

The manor's been quiet lately. Lonely. I wonder how Sebastian manages the endless cleaning, the meals, the babysitting.

I'd lose my mind from the workload alone.

Today, I head to the study—again—to pester Ciel.

It's become a daily routine. As much as I love him, I need more than just one person in my life. I'm starved for interaction. Still, our relationship is healing. Slowly. He's still closed off, but the tension is easing.

We're more comfortable around each other now.

And maybe I'm healing too.

I still miss the rest of the Phantomhive family. I think about them more than I want to admit. The grief doesn't crush me the way it used to. I've even stopped stress-baking chocolate cakes—thank God. I was on the verge of a cake-induced coma.

Honestly, it's a miracle I didn't gain fifty pounds.

I knock once on the study door before barging in, like always. Ciel's mid-motion, about to open a letter. Sebastian stands nearby, his usual composed self.

Ciel groans when he sees me slouch into the room like I own it. "Can't you leave me alone for one day?"

I flop into the chair across from him. "The answer to that would be no. This is your fault, you know?" I gesture dramatically.

"My fault?!" he sputters, frowning hard.

I shoot up from the chair, arms flailing. "Yes, yours! You won't let me do anything!" My voice echoes around the room. "I'm going to go mental if I can't even leave the manor!"

A vein ticks in his forehead. "You can go to London, can you not?"

I slam my fist on the desk—crack. Oops. I blink at the splinter. My strength's been weird lately. "I can't leave!"

"Why not?!"

I point at the butler. Sebastian arches a brow at my accusing finger. "I don't have someone to coach me to London because he's always serving your ass day in and day out!"

Arms crossed, I pout like a petulant child. Whatever. Let them think what they want.

"Huh?! I can call you a coach anytime." Ciel's eye twitches.

"But did you? No!"

He groans, rubbing his temples. "You never said you wanted to go!"

I throw up my hands. "Well, I do! Thank you very much."

"Confusing woman." Ciel mutters under his breath.

I hear that loud and clear. Multiple tick marks form near my temple.

"Wanna repeat that, you brat?" I growl.

He immediately shrinks back into his seat, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at me. I smirk triumphantly and flop back into the chair.

Then my eyes drift back to the letter. Curious, I lean forward.

"Who's the letter from?" I ask, trying to sneak a peek at the stamp.

I gasp and shoot to my feet, moving beside him. Ciel nods, confirming my suspicion. I lean in as he opens the envelope.

The contents make my stomach drop.

No way...

"This is..." Sebastian murmurs, lifting a hand thoughtfully to his chin as he examines the letter.

0o0o0o0o

I sneak into the kitchen with a mission. One that, admittedly, has me cringing a little.

But desperate times.

Sebastian's already there, preparing breakfast, looking annoyingly perfect as usual. I hover in the doorway for a moment, steeling myself.

This is so embarrassing.

I step in slowly. "M-Morning, Sebastian." I greet, voice faltering. Cringe. I hate that I stuttered.

He glances my way, offering a small nod, then returns to his task. Maybe he didn't notice? Or maybe he's ignoring it.

I shuffle over, trying to act casual.

The smell of the food makes my stomach grumble on cue.

"What'cha makin'?" I ask, peeking at the counter.

"Scrambled eggs, slivers of ham, and an option of either toast or a croissant." he recites while whisking the yolks smoothly.

"Mmm. Sounds good."

Silence settles over us. I chew my lip nervously.

I hate asking for help—especially from him.

But I need it.

We're leaving soon for Ciel's ceremony, and I have to look presentable. Not just for the Queen, but for Vincent and Rachel's families too.

They don't even know I exist—barely.

No one's reached out to me besides Lady Elizabeth.

I reach out and tug gently on his sleeve, avoiding eye contact. "What is it?" he asks, tone neutral.

"I—I need your help with something," I admit quietly. "I need help getting ready for the ceremony."

Through my bangs, I peek up at him. He's just staring down at me, unreadable. Probably deciding if I'm worth the effort.

"Fine." he finally says, turning back to the eggs.

Relief floods me. I squeal, throwing my arms around him in gratitude.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

He stiffens in my grip, and I immediately back off, grabbing a lukewarm piece of toast from the counter.

"I'll be in my bedroom waiting!" I call as I scurry out, laughing.

What I don't hear behind me is his soft sigh.

"If I don't help her, we'll be behind schedule by an hour." he mutters, dashing a pinch of pepper into the eggs.

0o0o0o0o

I pull out the gown Miss Nina made me. It's breathtaking—probably the most extravagant thing I've ever owned. I hold it up to the mirror, studying the maroon fabric. It's bold. Elegant.

And completely intimidating.

Ciel had this commissioned for me. The gesture alone makes my heart ache a little. Even if I technically have my own money now, I still feel strange using it.

I wasn't born a Phantomhive, after all.

My usual wardrobe consists of commoner dresses I used to buy in London. This is…something else entirely. The corset alone is a nightmare. I have no idea how to put this on, and of course, there's no other woman in the manor.

Which means…

I sweatdrop. I have to ask Sebastian.

I'm only in my slip, the undergarment of choice for formal gowns. Personally, I prefer my bra and underwear, but I only use them sparingly. Without a corset, this dress will look all wrong.

A knock at the door makes my heart leap.

"My lady, I am here to help you dress."

Here we go. Why am I nervous again? It's not like I'm naked. Legs aren't scandalous, people. Chill.

I clear my throat and place the dress beside the corset on the bed.

"Come in." I call.

Sebastian enters without hesitation, his expression unreadable. I shift under his gaze.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" he replies with a closed-eyed smile.

A tick mark pulses on my temple. "Let's just get this over with." I mutter.

So much for nerves. Now I'm just annoyed.

He approaches the bed and picks up the corset.

"You know how to dress a woman, right?" I ask as I turn to face the wall and brace against it.

"I wouldn't be 'one hell of a butler,' as you've said, if I did not know how to dress my lady for the day." he replies—definitely smirking.

I flush slightly at the "my lady" bit, but he can't see it, thankfully.

"Hey now, if you call me a 'lady,' I sound like an old woman. I'm not that age yet."

He tightens the first string, and I gasp. Ow. "This shouldn't take too long, my lady." he teases.

"Fuck you. Goddamnit, can't you tie the strings less tight? I feel like my organs are being crushed."

"My apologies, my lady." he says smoothly, loosening slightly.

I groan, glaring at the ceiling. "Once this damn thing is on, I'm going to punch you in the face."

He chuckles under his breath and yanks tighter again—just to be a shit.

"A lady shouldn't swear. We must fix that mouth of yours."

I tremble in fury, my fists clenched, ready to knock the smugness off his face.

"Well, this lady will say what's on her mind and not give two flying fucks what the other thinks! How about that?!" I shriek, nails digging into the wall beside me as the corset tightens even more.

For a split second, I think I see his eyes flash—but maybe I'm hallucinating. I can barely breathe from this cursed thing strangling my ribs. Before I can question it, he calmly turns my head back toward the wall, and I freeze, stunned.

"Truly, how unattractive." he murmurs from behind me.

Did he—did he just call me unattractive?

Oh, hell no. This man has a death wish.

The final string is tugged into place, and my body shakes—this time with pure rage. I whirl around and swing a punch straight at his smug face. He dodges with ease.

Growling, I launch another strike, then another—each one narrowly missing him. The bastard's smirking the whole time, clearly entertained by my tantrum.

Eventually, I huff out a breath and stumble back, breathless from the effort.

"Giving up already?" he mocks.

"Just get the hell out of my room!" I bark, panting and shaking a fist in his direction.

He chuckles and, thankfully, obeys—slipping out without another word.

Fuming, I stomp over to the bed and yank the dress off it. I shove it over my head and wrestle with it for a few minutes, cursing the damn thing under my breath until it finally fits.

"That good-for-nothing, egotistical, sadistic man. I hope he rots in Hell," I mutter, jamming my feet into my shoes. "I'll show him unattractive—and it'll be his perfect face covered in bruises."

With fire still crackling in my chest, I throw open the door without a second thought. I don't even check my reflection. I don't care what I look like. I'm too pissed to function. I stomp down the stairs in these ridiculous heels, grumbling the whole way.

Seriously—why wear heels if no one can even see your legs? It's like torture for no reason.

At the bottom of the stairs, I spot Ciel and Sebastian waiting. I hurry my pace, trying not to twist an ankle, and come to a stop beside them.

Ciel stands near the front doors, looking every bit the noble he's meant to be. His tailored dark blue suit fits him perfectly, and his hair is slicked back neatly, making his eyepatch stand out even more.

For a moment, my rage evaporates.

My heart melts.

I rush to him and awkwardly crouch in my corset to throw my arms around him. "Oh my gosh, you are so handsome!" I squeal, blushing as I squeeze him tight.

He squirms with a yelp, cheeks dusted pink. "R-Rina, get off me!"

I pull back just enough to cradle his cheek with one hand. "Ah, you look all grown." I say warmly, smiling through the sting of sudden tears. Vincent and Rachel would be so proud of him.

Ciel stares at me for a second—surprised—but then relaxes and gently pats my head.

I quickly blink away my tears, remembering that he is still here.

Sebastian.

I rise back to full height and shoot him a seething glare. Of course, he's already smirking, fully aware of what he's done.

He opens the doors dramatically and gestures forward.

"Shall we go, my lord, my lady?"

Ciel steps through first. I keep my eyes on the ground as I follow, doing everything I can to ignore the smug butler beside me. If I meet his gaze, I might actually punch him.

Outside, the carriage awaits. I open the door and let Ciel in before following behind. I shut it firmly and settle into my seat.

As Sebastian climbs into the coachman's spot, my nerves finally catch up with me.

I'm going to see Queen Victoria in the flesh.

Oh god—I wish I had a portable camera.

0o0o0o0o

Later that day…

We're brought into a grand room that nearly steals the breath from my lungs. We're inside the Queen's castle. Every wall, every column—it's all overwhelming in the most magical way.

I soak it in, trying to capture everything in my memory. I probably look like a child with stars in her eyes, pointing at architectural flourishes and whispering excitedly every few steps.

Ciel and Sebastian, of course, don't seem to care. Buzzkills.

I pout the rest of the walk, trailing behind them as we arrive at our destination. The room is filled with nobles—various earls from powerful estates. I think I recognize a few from Vincent's old gatherings.

At the far end of the room sits Queen Victoria herself, clad in her mourning dress. Two young men—knights?—stand beside her in white uniforms. The sight of her dress tugs at something in my chest. The story behind it is so tragic, and yet…seeing it in person is surreal.

The room is eloquent, heavy with ceremony. Ciel moves forward to take a seat while Sebastian and I remain near the door.

I can't stop grinning.

"Can you believe it, Sebastian?" I whisper excitedly.

He looks down at me, eyebrow slightly raised. "Believe what?"

I blink at him, flabbergasted. I wave my hands at the whole damn room. "You know, being in the presence of royalty!"

He shrugs, unimpressed.

"It matters not to me."

I gasp. "How can it not?! We're practically in the presence of history in the making."

He offers a faint frown. "Time drags infinitely. I could easily read this in a book later on."

I gape at him, absolutely scandalized. "Do you find anything entertaining?"

He meets my eyes, intense and unreadable. "Yes, in fact, I do."

My breath catches, and I quickly turn away. That gaze…déjà vu. Way too familiar and far too unsettling.

The room quiets as the Queen begins speaking. Ciel is called forward. I watch, proud and emotional as he rises. This is his moment.

He's survived so much. We've survived so much.

He bows deeply to the Queen. A man steps forward and drapes a royal blue cape over his shoulders. Ciel steps forward, climbing a few stairs toward the Queen herself. She stands and places a set of chained medals around his shoulders, the chains catching the light as they settle over his chest.

"Welcome home, Earl Phantomhive," she announces, her voice clear and warm. "We warmly welcome your return."

Applause fills the room. I clap enthusiastically—probably faster than everyone else.

Suddenly, someone brushes against my arm. I turn to find Madam Red beside me, her red hair striking against the formal surroundings. I beam and tilt my head in greeting. She returns the gesture, and together, we watch Ciel's crowning moment.

"You two should've gone and watched up closer," she says with a knowing smile. Sebastian turns toward her. "Rina, you're already officially family, and Sebastian, you're close enough to be so now."

I blink, surprised at her inclusion of him. The idea of Sebastian being family feels…strange.

"It would be presumptuous to call myself something like family," Sebastian replies, gaze shifting back to Ciel. His voice is calm, unreadable again. "I'm just one hell of a butler."

I gasp, then shoot him a sly grin. "Oho. ~" I poke his arm, smirking. "You liked my catchphrase I made up, huh?"

He sighs, smile vanishing. "Would you stop your childish pestering?"

I laugh softly. "I'm happy." I say simply.

He doesn't respond. Just watches me, face unreadable again. That stare—I hate it.

"Rina," Madam Red interjects, "the Midfords are here as well. Why don't we go talk to them? It's been a while, no?"

I nod, nerves suddenly swirling. I do need to talk to them. This might be my only chance.

I follow her down the hallway but pause after a few steps.

I turn over my shoulder, calling softly, "Don't leave me here!"

I think he hears me, even if he doesn't answer.

I catch up to Madam Red, who strolls gracefully down the lavish hall. "Madam?" I ask hesitantly, chewing my bottom lip. She hums, signaling for me to go on. "Does it offend you any that I am now part of the family?"

She stops mid-step, blinking at me in surprise, then smiles kindly. "I was more bewildered than you were, but I don't think badly about it. I think it's good you are. Someone needs to watch over Ciel."

"Even though Rachel didn't like me much?"

Her smile dims. She sighs. "My sister was a complicated woman. She wasn't easily jealous, but somehow you crawled under her skin. Though I do know one thing."

"What?" I ask softly, feeling that old ache return.

She pauses, then places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I know that deep down in her soul…she did love and care about you to some extent, no matter how jealous she was of your connections."

The words hit hard. Tears rise before I can stop them.

I lunge forward, hugging her tightly. She wraps her arms around me, stroking my hair gently.

"I-I miss everybody s-so much. Even Rachel's s-scolding!" I sob into her shoulder.

She chuckles lowly, and I feel her tears join mine. "I-I miss everyone too, my dear."

Her touch is so soft, so motherly. I haven't been held like this in a long time—not since my real mother. That ache grows stronger, but I hold onto her instead.

Choking on my tears, I lean back, sniffling. "We'll get over it together, yeah?"

She nods, wiping at her cheeks. I do the same.

"We will try our best." she says, smiling through her tears.

We share a moment of quiet understanding before she loops her arm with mine.

"Shall we head to the others now?"

"Yes, let's."

For the first time in a while, I feel closer to her. I wouldn't mind growing even closer.

After all—we're family now.

Chapter Text

A month has passed since the ceremony. The summer heat has grown steadily heavier, thick with humidity, and rainstorms now visit more frequently. But today feels like a blessing—warmth that kisses the skin, sunlight that doesn't weigh me down.

I crack open the windows in the music room, welcoming the breeze.

It's been a while since I've touched the piano.

I glance at it beside the open window.

The instrument looks proud and regal, standing tall in the center of the wide, open room. The curtains ripple in the breeze, brushing against my arm as the wind dances inward.

I smile and sit down, settling into the familiar bench with a quiet sigh of contentment.

Ciel and Sebastian are out of the country—on a brief mission in Germany.

I rest my fingers on the piano keys, thinking about their return. They're due back today. I had wanted to go with them, but Ciel insisted I stay. Something about wanting me to "be out of the way." A silly excuse. I decided to translate that as, I want you to be safe.

We're still finding our rhythm again—adjusting to one another—but his overprotectiveness hasn't changed. He hides it well, of course. In his own roundabout way...

I exhale through my nose, the sound soft. Maybe, one day, it'll get easier.

I push the thought aside and focus on the music. My fingers drift from the keys to the stack of sheet music in front of me. I flip through it, but nothing sparks. I bite my lip and glance outside.

A warm gust stirs the room, lifting my hair back gently, and something soft flickers in my chest—like a half-forgotten memory.

A song comes to mind. One I haven't heard since childhood.

My favorite Disney princess.

Well—if I'm being honest, it wasn't the story that drew me in. Just the voice. I smirk, remembering why I liked Snow White in the first place.

My fingers find the right keys, testing soft chords. I stumble into a melody I recognize. It's not perfect, but it's something. The first notes of "Someday My Prince Will Come" echo softly in the room, flooding the air with nostalgia. I play eagerly, fumbling through parts, humming under my breath when the melody escapes me. I remember the lyrics better than the actual score.

Fitting, I suppose—her voice enchanted me more than the tale itself.

I reach the final notes, but it doesn't feel quite right. A little too shaky. A little too unsure.

I clear my throat and crack my fingers. Alright—again.

I strike the opening chords once more, this time with more confidence. When the music reaches the place where the vocals begin, I start to sing—louder than before. I'll never reach Snow White's birdlike pitches, but I manage the song in my own way, with a voice that's uniquely mine. The twins always said I had a beautiful voice growing up.

Their belief in me still lingers, even now.

I smile as I remember singing lullabies to them as babies. Somehow, even with those memories drifting in, I stay focused.

The song ends on a gentle note, and I exhale a small sigh of contentment.

Yes. Much better.

But then—clapping.

I startle at the sudden sound, whipping my head toward the doorway. There, standing just inside, are my brother, Sebastian—and a boy I don't recognize. Blonde-haired. Young. His wide eyes are fixed on me, startled or...maybe in awe? I can't really tell.

Sebastian claps politely. Ciel's expression softens for just a moment before he reins it back into something more neutral.

I rise quickly and clear my throat, brushing a small blush from my cheeks. "You're home." I say with a smile.

"Thankfully," Ciel answers, leaning on his cane. "The trip was not…pleasant, to say the least."

I nod and step closer, eyeing the stranger beside them. "Yet, it seems you've left me out of some particular events." My brow lifts as I study the boy, who quickly looks away—shy. He looks around fourteen or sixteen, maybe. Boyish charm written all over his face. "Who is this?" I ask finally.

Ciel glances at him too. "This is…um…he doesn't have a name." He gestures vaguely, a faint sweatdrop expression on his face. "Yet."

"Doesn't have a name?" I blink. "How have you been referring to him this whole time?"

Ciel fidgets with his cane and avoids my eyes. "Boy…You…"

I stare at him, unimpressed. "Seriously?"

"I don't have a name for him yet, okay!" he snaps, clearly not enjoying my tone.

I raise both hands in surrender. "Does he even speak English?"

Sebastian steps in smoothly. "No. He only speaks German. With time, he will learn. We've been working on it since our return."

My eyes move to the boy again, softer this time. "And what are we going to do with him until then?"

"He will train to be our new gardener," Ciel answers. "A new servant for the mansion in general."

I glance at Sebastian and raise an eyebrow. "Getting tired, Sebastian?"

His eyes narrow at me, unamused. "I am…not getting tired, as you say, my lady," he replies coolly. "I am glad for any helping hands, however."

"Just not mine…" I shoot him a glare.

"Rina, how many times have we gone through this? You are a lady now. And a lady—"

"Okay! I get it, I get it! I was just joking…" I cut him off, groaning. "Mostly…" I mutter under my breath. Not like I didn't end up cleaning the whole mansion while they were gone.

I pout at the memory.

"Anyway," Ciel clears his throat, moving on, "I'll figure out a name for him later. He'll be staying with us for a while." He glances toward the boy. "Sebastian, take him around for a tour."

Sebastian bows, hand over chest. "Certainly, my lord." Then, to my surprise, he speaks in German. The boy startles at first, then relaxes and nods.

He follows Sebastian out of the room.

I watch them go, curiosity stirring in my chest. The air in the mansion already feels different somehow.

A small flicker of happiness glows in me—just knowing someone new is here.

Then I feel Ciel's gaze on me.

I glance down at him. "What?"

His face remains neutral, but there's something intense in his one visible eye. "I'm surprised you didn't hug me when we came in." he says offhandedly.

I blink. Did…he want a hug?

"Did…you want a hug?" I ask carefully.

He stiffens, a blush rising on his cheeks. "No! I didn't say that!" he blurts, turning away to fidget with his tophat.

I tilt my head, confused—and a little charmed. "Awh…did someone miss me?" I coo, snatching his hat from his head.

He gasps loudly and tries to grab it back as I hold it above his reach. "Give that back!" he yells, his cheeks burning red. "And stop twisting my words!"

I snicker and take a step back, still holding his hat in the air. "I'm not twisting your words. I'm making observations."

He rises on tiptoes in an adorable attempt to reclaim it. I grin and place the hat back onto his head—abruptly—which makes him yelp in surprise.

Before he can react, I cup the back of his head and pull him into a tight hug. My expression softens. "Welcome home, Feni." I whisper.

He stiffens in my arms, unsure of what to do. His hands curl into my dress for a beat before he lets himself relax—just for a moment. Then he steps back, slipping from my grasp.

His glare is gentle, more bark than bite.

"Thank you." he mutters, fixing his hat.

He turns to leave, and I clasp my hands in front of me, smiling faintly. But then he stops at the doorway and glances back. "Aren't you coming?"

I blink, surprised. "To where?"

"I would have figured you wanted the story of the mission. And about the boy. But if you'd rather sing all day, then go ahead—"

"No!" I blurt, hurrying after him. He resumes walking, a smug little smirk on his lips.

"I want to know! I do! Please, brother, please!" I follow him like a puppy chasing after its treat.

"I don't know…I think you enjoyed being a muse more than hearing about our mission…" he says, trailing off in a teasing tone.

"Gods! You're awful. Come on…" I pout dramatically.

He glances back, still smirking.

He doesn't answer, but he lets me follow him to the study.

0o0o0o0o

It's been a few days since the German boy came to stay at the manor. I catch myself watching him often—especially when he's outside with Sebastian. Gardening doesn't seem to come naturally to him, which isn't surprising, considering Sebastian's...less-than-patient teaching style.

And yet, the boy keeps smiling through it. That surprises me.

Ciel still hasn't given him a name. He claims he's thinking about it.

I sigh softly and close the book in my lap, rising from the library armchair. I've been brushing up on some German lately—trying to find ways to connect. I want to talk to him. Really talk.

My steps are light as I make my way out, books tucked under one arm.

The day is dim, the sky thick with clouds. A soft drizzle taps against the windows—steady, but not yet heavy.

Unless Sebastian's assigned him another task, the boy shouldn't be too busy.

I make my way through the corridor, heading for the main staircase. My shoes click softly on the polished floor as I descend, a bit eager now.

He's shy. I've noticed that. Always trailing after Sebastian like a little lost pup.

And adorable—there's no denying it.

When Ciel told me about the mission, about the boy's past…my heart cracked a little. I can't imagine how scared he must be, alone in a new place with strangers who don't speak his language.

I was lucky when I came to London—at least I could speak the tongue.

I head toward the kitchen, expecting to find Sebastian inside preparing dinner. But something stops me just before I enter.

The double doors leading to the backyard windows stand half open. The boy is standing there, his gaze fixed outside. He stares at the rain as if he's never seen it before—entranced, motionless.

A soft, curious expression tugs at his face, like the weather is whispering some secret only he can hear.

I pause, watching from a distance.

Has he truly never seen rain?

The sight makes me smile.

I open one of my books and flip through it, hunting for something to say—something simple. Maybe something that fits the moment. I skim the index until I find the weather section, then flip to the right page. My finger scans down the list. Rain. There.

The word isn't too difficult, thankfully. I mouth the pronunciation quietly as I start to walk toward him, book open in front of me. He notices me in the corner of his eye and flinches slightly.

I smile gently, holding myself back a little—trying not to scare him.

"Hallo." I greet softly, the German word a little stiff on my tongue.

He blinks in surprise. "Hallo…" he echoes, shy but curious.

My smile grows. I free one hand and offer it to him. "Mein Name ist Rina," I say, though the pronunciation still sounds off to me. I definitely need more practice.

His eyes widen at hearing his language. He stares at my hand, confused at first—maybe uncertain of the gesture. Then he tries, in English this time: "You…a-re…Lady?"

His voice is halting, but sweet. I giggle. How cute.

I reach out and shake his hand with mine. "Freut mich, Sie ken…nenzuler…" I fumble the word hopelessly, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I just wanted to say nice to meet you.

"Er—"

I start flipping through the book again, desperate to find the full phrase. But then—he stops me. His hand gently presses down over the page.

"Freut mich, Sie kennenzulernen." he says quietly, a small smile playing at his lips.

I beam, nodding quickly. "That's it." The warmth between us grows, subtle but unmistakable—even with the barrier of language.

He chuckles lightly and looks back outside, just as the drizzle thickens. The rain pounds harder against the windows now, drumming in soft percussion. I glance around at the sound, and then hear him speak again.

"What…is?" he asks, pointing to the storm outside.

So I was right. He's never seen rain before.

"Rain," I say simply, switching back to English. I raise a finger to the window and press it gently to a bead of water sliding down the glass. "Rain."

"Rain," he repeats, mimicking me. His eyes follow the droplet with a strange kind of wonder. "Es ist hübsch…"

I tilt my head. No clue what that means.

I lower my hand and study him quietly. He's learning so fast. And still so innocent despite what he's lived through. My chest tightens. I step a little closer.

He flinches at the movement, startled—but I only hold the book out, offering to share it with him. "Freunde?" I ask hopefully.

His eyes widen. Then a smile spreads across his face, soft and warm. "Mhm!" he hums, cheeks tinged with pink.

I grin at his reply and gently close the book.

0o0o0o0o

A month passes without me really noticing. Life at the manor carries on, same as always. Sebastian and Ciel are, of course, up to no good in their usual manner. The staff goes about their day, and everything seems…peaceful.

Well. Peaceful-ish.

There's been an uptick in murder attempts.

Ciel didn't waste any time establishing his new position as the Queen's watchdog. And somehow, by pure force of Sebastian's willpower—or sheer dumb luck—we're still alive after every close call.

I think I remember hearing screaming in the middle of the night once. Outside the manor. I didn't bother to check. It was probably just Sebastian and Finnian handling it.

Oh—right. Ciel finally came up with a name for the boy. Finnian. Based on a book the twins used to love when they were little. I used to read it to them myself. I remember how Fenian always lit up when I got to the hero's parts. Big, wide eyes and all.

The fact that it ended up being his real name too? Naturally, he was obsessed.

I smirk at the memory, letting it wash over me like sunlight. They share a name but different versions of it. He thinks he's clever.

I'm sprawled lazily in a chair across from Ciel's desk, legs crossed at the ankle, romance book open in my hands. But the words blur on the page as I drift, lost in those soft little memories instead.

"What are you grinning about?" Ciel's voice slices through the silence.

I lift an eyebrow and glance up at him. "Nothing in particular." I say, playing it cool. No way I'm telling him what I was actually thinking about.

The sunlight pouring through the tall window casts a halo behind his head, softening the edges of his features—though his usual frown remains firmly in place. He squints at me with suspicion.

"Right. Whatever you say."

He goes back to scribbling something, brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"I was thinking about the past." I say suddenly, blurting it out before I can stop myself.

He glances up, expression unreadable. "Why would you reflect on that? The past is useless." he says, freezing his pen in place.

"No, it's not," I shoot back, frowning.

"It is."

I snap my book shut and scowl. "So, it's useless that I was thinking about you and your brother? My bad—for, you know, loving you."

He flinches at that, though he quickly covers it with a cough into his fist. "It's a weakness nonetheless."

"Humans are weak. What did you expect?" I shrug, like it's obvious.

His eyes bore into me. There's something behind them—something quiet and stormy—but I can't quite translate it.

A knock at the door breaks the tension.

"Enter." Ciel says.

Sebastian steps in, carrying a silver tray with a single envelope resting on it. His eyes flick briefly to me, curious.

"Forgive me for interrupting," he says smoothly, then glances at Ciel. "However, your point before I entered piques my interest." He presents the tray with a small bow. "Young master, you have a letter addressed to you."

I lean forward. "I was just saying I was reflecting on the past. Ciel says it's useless. And a weakness. I confirmed that humans are weak." I inform him.

"Ah," Sebastian hums, face unreadable. "I see." He doesn't say more.

"Who's the letter from?" I ask, watching Ciel cut it open with a knife.

Sebastian's lips curl into a knowing smirk. His gaze settles on my brother, filled with barely contained amusement. "From none other than the dear person he's been so anxious to hear from," he says with theatrical suspense. "Open it immediately."

I watch Ciel's expression twist with curiosity—and maybe a pinch of dread.

This…might not be good.

Chapter Text

A week has passed since Ciel got that letter. He never let me read the contents, but the smirk on his face afterward told me enough.

I yawn and stretch across my bed, arms and legs splaying out over the sheets. Strangely, I woke up before Sebastian could drag me out of dead sleep. He'll probably be thrilled not to have to pry me out of dreamland for once. I grin to myself. Honestly, I liked annoying him.

It was half the fun—he irritates me, I return the favor.

Before I can think about his stupid, infuriatingly handsome face any further, the sharp crash of glass shattering jolts through the manor.

I sit up instantly. What the hell was that?

Throwing my covers off, I bolt out of bed, heart hammering. That sound—! It came from Ciel's room. I sprint across the hall and throw open his door with a bang.

Ciel spins toward me, startled. Sebastian stands still in the middle of the room, holding a leaking teapot. His eyes are wide—but not with fear. Irritation. It's always irritation. Ciel stares at me with wide eyes.

"Rina!" he shouts, quickly covering his bad eye with his hand.

"What in the hell was that?!" I screech, eyes darting to the shattered window. My stomach flips when I spot the bullet hole lodged into his pillow.

"Young master…" Sebastian trails off, calm as ever, even while the teapot dribbles onto the carpet. He casually pours tea into a cup—through the hole. We both whip our heads toward him.

"I've prepared Nilgiri tea for you today." he states, smiling.

"Isn't there something more important happening right now?!" Ciel barks, while I shout, "Who cares about the tea?!"

I smack my hand to my forehead.

This man is impossible.

"What in the world was that?!" Ciel cries again, completely stunned. Honestly, I can only assume it was another murder attempt. So early in the morning, too…I groan.

Sebastian glances out the broken window, finally setting the teapot aside on the cart. He presses his fingers to his chin, surveying the lawn like he's considering the weather. "It seems a sniper shot at us." he comments mildly.

I drop to the floor and crawl into Ciel's bed, making a point to stay low and well away from the window. Sebastian side-eyes me with clear amusement. I nearly roll over Ciel in the process—he scowls at me.

I grin sheepishly in return.

Sebastian steps closer—and suddenly covers my ears with both hands.

I blink in surprise, but let him do it, even as he leans down and speaks quietly to my brother. I try to listen in, but the bastard must be whispering. Whatever it is, he doesn't want me to hear.

He lets go after a moment, smirking down at me when I glare up at him.

"Why couldn't I hear?" I whine.

He gives me a fake, sugary smile. "It was something a lady should not hear."

I scoff, turning my nose up. "Whatever. I'm sure it was dumb anyway."

Ciel frowns and pushes me off him. "Drop the matter. It didn't concern you."

I gape, offended. "It should when there's a sniper on the property!" I wave at the window dramatically.

"They weren't after you." he snaps.

"One day they might be. I'm your 'sister,' after all."

I cross my arms and sit crisscrossed on his bed, frowning.

He does not like that answer—he glares hard at me.

"Finny!" Sebastian calls suddenly, and both of us glance at him as he peers out the window. "You don't have to chase after this one. Please stay here and guard the young master."

I hear a faint "Yes, sir!" from outside and smile to myself.

Finnian's English has really improved.

Satisfied the coast is clear, I start climbing out of bed again. I pause when I see Sebastian grab Ciel by the wrists and hoist him clean off the mattress. I pale. Sebastian never manhandles him like that.

Ciel lets out a noise of protest, caught completely off guard.

"All right, young master, up and at 'em!" Sebastian singsongs in a falsely cheery tone, eyes closed in a perfect smile. I sweatdrop at the mood shift.

"My lady, please vacate the room so the young master may get dressed." he adds, gesturing at me.

I blink, still processing the urgency, but nod slowly.

"Glad you're okay, brother," I mutter, waving before slipping out the door.

As it closes behind me, I hear Ciel's voice on the other side, laced with confusion.

This morning is way more eventful than I'd like.

I head back into my room and start dressing for the day.

A simple floral gown seems fine—no corset needed. I doubt we have visitors planned, and Sebastian will let us know if that changes. I stretch with a yawn, arms arching over my head. My stomach growls just then, reminding me I never got my usual morning tea.

Right. Sniper drama. Sebastian's likely a little…busy.

With a shrug, I slip into my slippers and wander downstairs to the kitchen.

When I push open the door, I find Tanaka already seated at the table with a cup of tea. He lifts his head and smiles warmly.

"Good morning, Tanaka." I chirp, heading straight for the stovetop. There's some leftover tea—bless. I grab a cup from the cupboard.

"Good morning, my lady." he replies politely.

I pour myself some tea and glance toward the glass cake dome—ah. Pastries. I pick out a danish and place it on a plate, then join Tanaka at the table.

"I missed when you addressed me by my name." I pout as I sit across from him.

A twinkle sparks in his eye as he watches me. "It is not proper anymore to refer to you by your name alone." he chuckles.

"You still rely on your old position to avoid acting familiar with me. A pity, but I do respect it." I sigh and sip my tea with a soft hum. "But we both know the reality."

He lifts his cup as well. "You are my savior, my lady. I could never betray my respect for you."

I smile, fondness warming my chest. "I only did what was natural, Tanaka."

"Yet you suffered in more ways than one."

I falter. My gaze lowers to my bare feet, eyeing the faint burn scars on my calves. They don't bother me, not really. They're reminders of what I survived. Beautiful, in their own way. But I still get embarrassed sometimes.

Not that anyone usually sees a lady's legs—thankfully.

"I suffered because I chose to." I say, voice steady.

Tanaka gives me a soft smile. But there's guilt in his eyes, just barely visible. He lets the topic drop and finishes the rest of his tea.

Then he stands, and I watch him idly as I bite into my danish.

"'Fate loves the fearless.'" he says as he walks past.

"Good quote." I reply, closing my eyes and taking a long gulp of tea. I sometimes forget that Tanaka's just as much a bookworm as I am, when he gets the chance.

Once he's gone, I finish my breakfast, clean up, and step out of the kitchen.

Now that the sniper incident's settled…I should probably check on my brother again. If this keeps up, I'll need to start boarding my windows. I'm not trying to get a hole in my skull if I can help it.

I head to Ciel's study and knock.

"Enter."

I open the door to find him standing by the window, arms behind his back, gazing out.

"Yo," I greet, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. He glances my way.

"I should have known it would be you." he groans, almost to himself.

"Yes, well…" I stroll closer to the desk. "I thought it would improve our relationship if we talked about how you almost died this morning." I snort.

He gives me an exasperated look. Then clears his throat. "Someone is after me."

"No shit!" I shout, gesturing at the damn window. "Yet, you stand in front of a window! Waiting to be shot again!"

He rolls his eyes and leans against said glass. "Sebastian is handling it."

"Handling what? The sniper?" I blink. "How? Surely they're long gone by now after missing you—?"

The door slams open.

I flinch in place. Sebastian marches in looking way too pleased with himself, dragging someone across the floor. My jaw drops.

"Young master, my lady, pardon the interruption," he announces with theatrical grace. "But I've caught the 'Owl' and brought it back."

He kneels, holding the person down despite their hands being bound behind their back. The so-called Owl glares up at us with venom in their eyes.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," I mutter, stunned. "That's really the sniper?" I ask, gawking.

"Yes," Sebastian says simply. He stands and produces a rifle, then walks over to Ciel and extends it. "Please take a look at this. This is the rifle that was used. You'll see there is no sight for long-range aiming attached."

My eyes widen. No sight? That's…impossible. I lean in for a closer look, then glance down at the sniper. "How good are his eyes?!" I ask, stunned.

Ciel tilts his head in thought, fingers at his chin. "Haku of the Green Gang is aiming for your life. Haku keeps a pet 'Owl' who is an expert sniper. It seems the information was correct."

I whirl on him. "Why didn't you tell me a sniper was targeting you?!" I shout, frustrated.

"It didn't affect you. Like I said." He glares.

"Yes, it does! You could have died for all I know." I scowl, sighing sharply.

Before either of us can say more, the sniper blurts out, "J-Just kill me now! You'll just get your floor dirty by torturing me!"

I lean against the desk and examine him—or her? The features are delicate. Pretty. And Sebastian, of course, perks up at the word torture.

"Torture?" Sebastian echoes, amusement curling on his lips. "How silly. We would never do something so inefficient." He glances down at the bound figure. "Instead, we would like to make you an offer. Come work here at the Phantomhive manor."

Ciel, the sniper, and I all shout in unison: "WHAT?!"

"What the heck are you thinking, Sebastian?!" Ciel roars.

"Sebastian, I question your logic for once." I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Well, I mean exactly what I said," Sebastian defends. "If I may speak honestly, the manor is in dire need of staff. After all, our dearly eccentric young master here is being a bit stubborn with the hiring process."

He turns to look at me with a helpless shrug.

"Excuse me, I'm right here!" Ciel scowls, visibly annoyed.

"Hmm…he does have a point." I murmur, resting my chin in my hand, thinking aloud.

"Not you too!" Ciel snaps, but I ignore him entirely.

"If we happen to receive another attack similar to the one today, Finny alone will not be able to mitigate it," Sebastian continues, ever rational. "But the good 'Owl' here has eyes that can see far into the distance, making them a most ideal sentinel, in my humble opinion."

"You do realize that this person is an assassin sent to kill me, yes?!" Ciel points out, voice rising with clear distress.

I tap my chin, absorbing the thought. "My exact thoughts. But…" I glance down at the sniper, who watches us carefully.

There's caution in his eyes, but also weariness. And something else. Defeat?

He's an enemy. But…not a threat anymore. Not at this moment.

We need more staff, that's true. Not just for cleaning. My brother's attracting more enemies than admirers lately. Sebastian seems to catch my train of thought, lips curling in amusement.

"—But," he interjects smoothly, "the assassination resulted in failure. No mafia, let alone the Green Gang, would ever forgive failure. They will chase the 'Owl' to the ends of the Earth, like a snake hungry for its prey to silence them. This means that the 'Owl' has lost all reason to assassinate you, young master."

I wince a little at the metaphor. Graphic. But effective.

Sebastian lets that reality hang in the air before driving the point home: "Now, rather than living a life of fear, I believe it would be beneficial to both parties if the 'Owl' becomes a servant of the manor and begins life anew, would it not?"

Okay…he definitely has our attention. I even straightened up a bit.

"Furthermore," Sebastian adds, raising a finger like a professor mid-lecture, "didn't you once say it yourself, young master? You stated, 'I would like a maid, for appearance's sake.'"

Wait—he said that? I glance at Ciel, surprised. He doesn't meet my eyes.

Huh. Makes sense, I guess. Sebastian may be brilliant, but even he's only got two hands. With Finny helping outdoors now, we could really use an extra set inside.

"A maid?" Ciel echoes, clearly distracted by the turn of conversation.

Sebastian moves toward the sniper and grabs his shoulder with a knowing smirk.

"The sniper is actually a woman?" I blurt, taken aback. I lean in for a better look—oh. That explains the delicate features. It seems I suspected correctly.

Sebastian lifts her up by the arms, inspecting her coolly. "The sniper is indeed biologically female."

Her unbuttoned collar shifts slightly, giving the truth away. I raise a hand to my mouth, stifling a laugh. "Oh my…"

"E-Excuse me!?" Ciel squawks. "The sniper is a woman!?"

Sebastian lets go. She falls to the floor with a loud "ow," groaning. His face is the picture of innocence. I snort. He's enjoying this.

"Yes! And as such, I believe she is the perfect fit for the manor. As we are lacking in female servants." he says enthusiastically.

I lean against the desk and pout. "See? This is what happens when you won't let me help out around here." I tell Ciel, mostly to annoy him.

"That's not the issue here!" he snaps. "He's lost his mind if he even thinks of hiring an assassin as a maid!"

"But where else are you going to find a capable maid to help out around the manor?" I press. I'm not backing down. It's not a terrible plan.

"My lady is correct. Why, young master, can't you see?" Sebastian thanks me with a grateful look, which makes me blink.

Wow. He must be desperate.

"Her skills as an assassin are exactly why I'm recommending her."

"What?" the sniper and Ciel say in unison.

"Hiring servants is necessary if we wish to revive the household," Sebastian explains, lifting a finger. "However, the skills and circumstances we are looking for at the Phantomhive manor differ greatly from other households. Which is precisely why our hiring efforts have been encountering difficulties."

"Skills and circumstances…?" the sniper echoes quietly from the floor.

I study her face, trying to guess what kind of past leads someone down the path to become a sniper.

"We are looking for servants skilled in protection and guard work in order to keep the young master safe," Sebastian continues. "As well as people in circumstances that would make it impossible for them to betray the young master. Moreover, they must gain approval from the young master himself. I believe that the good 'Owl' here has fulfilled all of these conditions."

"Still…" Ciel mutters, expression thoughtful now.

"This could benefit us," I chime in seriously, arms crossed. "I have to agree with Sebastian here. Despite how ridiculous it sounds."

Sebastian shoots me a smile, just before the sniper finally cuts in.

"Quit discussing this without listening to my opinion!"

We both blink at her. Right. She's, uh—still here.

"I won't do it. Besides, a murderer could never become a maid." she says flatly.

Her words hit me harder than expected.

A murderer becoming a maid…I glance down at my feet. A noble lady, even. The thought turns sour quickly, and I shake it off. Not now.

"Are you sure about that?" Sebastian asks, stepping forward. "Both maids and assassins perform similar work, in that they both clean 'stains' the master finds unpleasant."

He crosses his arms, tilting his head. "The only difference is the choice of tool—a duster versus a gun. Hardly a meaningful difference, in my opinion."

My eyebrow twitches. No, Sebastian. One of those kills people. The other…dusts shelves.

"Furthermore," he continues, "I believe you said you do not know how to do anything outside of killing. So, how exactly do you intend to live life from now on? The Chinese mafia will be on your tail at every moment, and you possess neither a passport nor letters of introduction. You won't be able to resort to thievery or begging on the streets."

I frown as the weight of her situation hits me. She really doesn't have options. If she turns this down…she'll be hunted forever.

"Well, I…" she trails off, clearly overwhelmed.

"The Phantomhive manor welcomes experienced employees!" Sebastian announces with sudden flourish. I swear sparkles appear around him. I blink. What is this, a commercial?

"We do not inquire about age, race, or personal history! Wages and holidays are guaranteed! We also offer plenty of sugar and black tea separate from the wages. And depending on your quality of work, you may be eligible for a raise!"

She stares at him, stunned. Frankly, I'm stunned. He sounds like a sales rep for a very dramatic job fair.

"What do you think? It's not a bad offer, is it?" he asks, smiling confidently.

Silence. Honestly, I expected that. I'd be speechless too.

Sebastian kneels beside her, persistent. "Will you use those eyes for the young master's sake?"

She blinks at him, too overwhelmed to answer. Her face twists, caught somewhere between disbelief and confusion.

I sigh and walk over, crouching beside her. "Give the girl a break, Sebastian," I mutter. "How can she possibly reply to you with all this happening?"

"It is a good offer. She should be wise and take it. It's not that hard." he says with conviction.

I sweatdrop. "She's been through a lot the past hour or two. Hell, maybe more than that! You need to be more considerate."

He opens his mouth to retort—but a loud grumble interrupts.

We all freeze. My eyes dart to the girl, whose face flushes with embarrassment. Sebastian's go wide. I try not to laugh. I hear Ciel let out a faint 'pft'.

"And I rest my case." I say with satisfaction.

Ciel clears his throat as I rise. His arms cross. "Sebastian. If we're scouting out servants belonging to other houses, don't you think we should show more courtesy than this?"

Sebastian stands with a smirk. "Oh my! You are quite right, young master. Please excuse our inhospitality. Just a moment, please…"

0o0o0o0o

We follow Sebastian down to the dining room. The walk is…quiet. A little awkward. I watch the sniper ahead of us, noting the raw red marks on her wrists from the rope. I wince. It's necessary, but still...harsh.

Ciel walks beside me, his eye focused on her. He's thinking—processing. Good. I think he's coming around.

We reach the doors. Sebastian opens them and ushers us inside. He pulls out chairs for Ciel and me. We sit as the sniper hesitates nearby.

Sebastian pulls out another chair—then gently unties her bindings.

"Pardon my rudeness."

The rope drops. "What are you plotting here?" she asks warily.

"Plotting?" Ciel repeats. "You need your hands to eat, of course. Is that strange?"

"Eat…?!" she gasps, eyeing the set table like it's foreign.

I tense. Oh no. She grabs a knife—swiftly, instinctively.

It's just a butter knife, but…still. She holds it like a weapon.

Before she can act, Sebastian suddenly looms behind her.

"Miss Owl," he murmurs, low and ominous. He leans in to whisper. We can't hear what he says. Whatever it is, she freezes immediately.

What the hell did he say?

"Sebastian," Ciel sighs. "Don't embarrass our guests. That's one of the basics of hospitality."

"Don't worry about manners, my guest." he adds to her gently.

She lowers the knife, confused but no longer hostile.

"You let him embarrass me." I mutter, pouting.

"You're not a guest. You're my sister. There's a big difference."

My jaw drops. Behind me, Sebastian lets out a small 'pft'.

"That would mean I deserve more respect, does it not?" I shoot back.

"I have not seen an act of respect come from you yet to warrant such a status."

"Oi!" I snap, blushing as he mocks me.

Sebastian returns, setting down bowls of steaming soup. His face is smug as hell.

"I've readied cooked vegetables, a steamed chicken salad, and also a hearty dish of oxtail soup." he announces.

My stomach growls. I lean forward with sparkly eyes. I didn't realize how hungry I was.

He passes out rolls next. "We also have freshly baked sourdough. Please enjoy it with the butter."

"Worried about poison?" Ciel asks casually.

I pause mid-bite, freezing.

"Quite frankly, killing you is of absolutely no benefit to me." Ciel adds with a sigh. "How long are you going to grip that knife for? Do you not know how to eat?"

"Here, like this." Ciel tears his roll and dips it in the soup.

"Young master, those are poor manners." Sebastian says flatly.

"Rina does it often, yet you don't scold her," Ciel fires back. "I've decided to forgo manners today, too."

"Yes, but my lady is a lost cause."

"Oi! I'm right here!" I growl, glaring as I shove a spoonful of soup into my mouth.

Sebastian sighs pointedly.

"This is the most satisfying way to eat this soup, anyway," Ciel adds. "Rina can be smart sometimes too."

A vein pops in my forehead. This brat—

Before I can explode, he tosses half his bun to the sniper.

"Here. You try it too."

She blinks, startled. She sniffs it, hesitates…then dips the bread in soup and takes a bite.

We wait in silence.

Then—clink.

The knife falls from her hand.

Tears spill from her eyes as she eats.

I raise my hand to my mouth. My chest aches. I forgot…what it's like to taste warmth after so much cold. To feel safe.

I sniff. My eyes sting as I watch her cry and eat.

"So warm…so damn, warm…" she whimpers, eyes squeezed shut.

"Is that so?" Ciel replies, his tone calm, face pleased.

Then, without warning, she begins to devour the food.

I laugh softly through my tears. Yes, yes! Eat like it's your last chance!

I lean back, appetite forgotten as I watch her.

There's something about the way she shovels it in—crying, desperate—that punches me in the gut.

I see my younger self there, trembling in some dark alley, stealing scraps before Vincent found me. The room falls into silence, save for the sounds of her eating.

"I'm glad it suits your tastes." Sebastian says with a soft smile.

"Sebastian," Ciel calls out, "bring another serving of soup."

"And rolls!" I chime in, swiping the napkin off my lap. I blow my nose with a loud honk and dab at the corners of my eyes.

"Wah!?" Ciel stares. "Why are you crying too!?"

"I can't help it!" I wail miserably, shoulders shaking.

Sebastian halts mid-step, then picks up the pace with a knowing look.

"Sebastian! Prepare the emergency chocolate cake too!" Ciel commands, pale from secondhand embarrassment.

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian says, sweatdropping, already halfway to the kitchen.

0o0o0o0o

I feel half-dead from overeating. I slump in my chair, groaning. I might've gained twenty pounds. But then—like a miracle from heaven—chocolate cake lands in front of me. I sit up instantly, eyes locking on the glossy slice.

Tea follows, served with quiet ceremony.

"Please, have a cup of tea to settle the meal. I've prepared Harrods' Oolong tea." Sebastian offers smoothly, placing the final cup before our guest.

She sips tentatively. Sebastian returns to stand behind Ciel.

"Right then," Ciel says, interlocking his fingers under his chin. "Now that our stomachs are satisfied, I think it's time you gave us an answer."

I pause with my fork midair, watching closely.

"Will you choose to live in fear of the Green Gang for the rest of your life?" Ciel asks calmly. "Or start anew here at the Phantomhive manor?"

"I…" the girl—Owl—starts, voice low. "...don't know how to do anything except steal and murder. I even tried to kill you both just a while ago. And I've never even held a feather duster, let alone cleaned with one. But do you think…" she hesitates, eyes troubled, "...someone like me could still become a maid?"

"You do not need any qualifications to become a servant. I, myself, only became a butler after coming here." Sebastian assures, gesturing to himself.

"We also have a new gardener," I add with a small smile. "They didn't know what they were doing either at first."

She stands up, fists clenched on the table, and bows low—her head practically knocking against the wood. "P-Please! Let me work here at your manor!"

My eyes widen. That was fast.

Ciel rises and offers his hand without hesitation. "Welcome to the house of Phantomhive."

She blinks in surprise but takes his hand and shakes it.

I clap once, beaming.

"So, it's settled then. Welcome to our house."

"Come to think of it," Ciel muses, glancing at her, "I never did ask for your name. Surely, 'Owl' isn't your real name, is it?"

"My real name is…" She pauses. "…is Rin. Mey-Rin."

"We welcome you once more, Mey-Rin." Ciel says formally before releasing her hand.

"Since we're all settled, I shall show you to your room straight away," Sebastian announces, already heading for the door. "This way, please."

Mey-Rin looks back at us, clearly uncertain, but eventually follows. The door closes behind them with a quiet click.

I sigh and sink back into my chair, dragging a hand through my hair. What a day.

Ciel turns to me with a narrowed eye. "How do you feel about this, truly?"

I glance at him. "Feel about her or the fact that the Green Gang is after you?"

"Both…?" he sweatdrops.

"Mey-Rin, was it? I don't mind her so far. But I'm curious how this manor will treat her. Being a maid is hard work. I should know." I take another bite of cake, slower this time. "And about the Green Gang...well, you better snuff them out quick. I don't like it when there's a target on your back."

He gives a quiet nod. "There will always be a target on my back."

"Yes, well, if I had it my way, there would be none." I sip my tea, then frown. "I'm sleeping with one eye open for the rest of the week knowing we just hired someone who could kill you."

"You'll be fine. Sebastian is here anyways."

"True." I shiver. "He stalks the night halls like a demon."

Ciel's eye glints with amusement. "You have no idea how right you are."

I squint at him, head tilted.

What's that supposed to mean?

0o0o0o0o

The manor finally settles for the night, the chaos fading into an uneasy quiet. By morning, it's alive again with motion.

I shuffle down the foyer stairs with a yawn, fingers scratching the back of my head. Near the front door, I spot a woman and our butler. Familiar. My eyes light up instantly.

"Nina!" I yell with joy.

She lifts her head and grins. "Oh my, it's my favorite client, Rina!"

I dash into her open arms, laughing. Her hug is warm and tight—typical Nina—and I'm lifted just slightly off the ground. I think she knocks Sebastian out of the way on purpose with my body.

I smirk, giggling into her shoulder.

Then her hands wander. I break the hug with a squeak, catching her wrists. "Hah! Not this time, ma'am!"

She cackles. "It appears you are a master of prevention, my dear!"

I squeeze her hands between mine, holding them at chest level. "I missed you!"

"As I have, my dear!"

Sebastian clears his throat, and we both glance over. His face is neutral, but the sweatdrop gives him away.

"Ms. Hopkins was just leaving, my lady."

I pout. "Why didn't you tell me she was here?"

"She was busy making a new dress for our new maid." he replies smoothly, though I see the faint flicker of mischief behind his eyes.

"Oh yes! The new maid!" Nina chirps. "She is such a cute girl. I gave her a nice and sleek new look. You'll love it, my dear!"

I bounce excitedly in place. "I can't wait to see such a sight! I bet it looks as good as everything you put a needle to!"

"The praise makes my heart melt!" she blushes and kisses my cheek, grabbing her suitcase. "Alas, I must be off."

"Come see me again!" I wave as Sebastian opens the door for her.

Once it closes, silence returns like a drawn curtain. I glance up at Sebastian.

"You're becoming more busy, Sebastian."

He raises a brow. "It is nothing I cannot handle as a Phantomhive butler."

I grin knowingly. "You say that with such confidence. Yet, you now have two servants to train in completely different categories while also serving my brother's whims. All I can say is: good luck."

I walk off before he can reply. But I can feel his eyes on me all the way to the library.

0o0o0o0o

Of course I don't get to curl up with a book. Instead, I'm summoned to the living room for a meeting. Something about a guest. I groan but show up properly dressed.

Inside, I find Ciel seated across from a man I don't recognize, while Sebastian and Mey-Rin stand behind him.

"Ah, Rina, you made it in time. We just sat down." Ciel says pleasantly.

I nod, then glance at the stranger. Asian descent. Closed eyes. But I can feel them trailing over me, lingering in a way that makes my skin crawl.

I shiver but curtsy politely and sit beside Ciel.

"Well now," the man begins with a grin, "I had come here to meet the fearsome Earl of Phantomhive, the one charged with keeping order in England's dark side…but who could've guessed he would be such a charming young man! This is quite the surprise!"

Fearsome, huh? Odd word choice.

"I could say the same of you, Lau." Ciel says, surprising me. This is Lau? So the Green Gang's tiger shows up at our front door, just like that.

I glance at Mey-Rin. Her body language is stiff. I haven't seen her since yesterday, but she's cleaned up beautifully. Nina worked her usual magic.

Mey-Rin notices me watching. I give her a smile. She tries to return it. It's faint, but there. My heart softens a little.

"You rose to a leadership position in a large-scale mafia group within a few years," Ciel continues, "even earning the title of 'Rising Dragon Dealer,' and yet here I see less of a crook, and more of a mild-mannered young man."

I smirk. These two sure know how to talk in circles.

"Indeed," Lau agrees, chuckling. "Filthy and foul are fitting adjectives to describe the majority of them. Come to think of it, I might be the only one in the gang who enjoys things of a romantic nature like writing to a pen pal…"

He drones on. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Ciel lifts his teacup and sips. "You're not the only one it brought fortune to. We were finally able to hire a maid."

"Ahh, then she is the rumored…" Lau trails off, eyes sliding toward Mey-Rin. "Could I get another cup of tea, please?"

"Y-Yes! R-Right aways!" she stammers, obviously rattled.

I frown. She grabs his teacup and kettle—but her hands shake. The tea spills over, splashing onto the plate. She gasps in distress. My breath catches.

Lau laughs softly, but there's nothing kind in it.

Sebastian steps in to help, moving smoothly.

Lau leaves not long after, offering some flimsy excuse. Yeah, he came to be nosy about Mey-Rin.

As we all exit the living room, I notice Mey-Rin furiously rubbing at her apron. Tea stained it. She's visibly upset—no one else is around.

"Got some tea on there?" I ask gently.

She jerks up, blushing. "I-It won't come off! I-I can't just leave it on there! Y-Young master…these clothes are new!"

I smile at her panic and take her hand. "Hey, calm down! It's alright. Aprons are meant to get dirty. But we can clean it, easily."

I begin leading her toward the kitchen.

"M-Ms. Phantomhive!" she stammers, still red. "I-It's improper of you to help me, yes?"

I stop, and she bumps into me. I glance back at her with a softer look.

"Please, just call me Rina when we're alone. I don't like being called that. And well…I like to help when I can. Is being helpful improper behavior?"

She hesitates, then adjusts her glasses. "W-Well…no, not at all."

"See?" I say brightly. "So, it's okay if I help."

We continue walking. She follows this time with no resistance.

In the kitchen, I peek around. No Sebastian. Perfect.

I open a cabinet, crouch down, and pull out the vinegar.

"This should do the trick with some water," I tell her, carrying the vinegar container to the counter. I set it down and duck under the sink, grabbing a clean washcloth. The faucet hisses to life as I soak the cloth, just enough, then twist it off and open the vinegar.

The smell hits immediately, sharp and sour, but I dab some onto the fabric anyway.

When I turn back around, she's standing awkwardly by the doorway, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her apron.

"What is that awful smell?" she blurts, nose wrinkling.

"Oh, it's vinegar." I nod toward the container. "Smells gross, but it works wonders."

She watches me cautiously, but nods, clearly trusting me. I step in, reaching for her apron. My fingers press the damp cloth to the tea stain, working the mixture in with gentle scrubs.

The fabric shifts slightly with each motion, and soon I find myself staring—not at the stain, but at the uniform itself.

"Man…the dress really takes me back." I murmur without thinking. Memories creep in—some warm, some bittersweet.

"S-Sorry?" she asks, blinking up at me.

I catch myself and force a smile. "Nothing, sorry." A lie. "Anyway, the stain should rise eventually. Just give it time. I promise Sebastian won't yell at you."

She relaxes, the tension draining from her shoulders. "Thank you, M-Ms—Rina!"

That earns her a real smile from me this time, softer and a little distant.

Sometimes...I really do miss working for a living.

No matter how exhausting those days were.

Chapter Text

I glance outside as the manor bustles more than usual. Something's off. I set my novel down on the side table, right as the door to Ciel's office opens—so much for peace. I'm this close to finishing the chapter too.

Sebastian enters with a tea cart, my distraction for the day: food.

Ciel glances up, bored as ever, and drops his papers. "This afternoon we have green tea paired with cucumber sandwiches."

Sebastian gestures to the cart before pouring each of us a cup with practiced ease. The steam rises delicately, and the familiar scent curls around my senses as he sets the sandwiches down next.

"Please, enjoy."

I sit up straighter on the couch and smile, grateful. One sip in and I hum, content. "You made it just right."

"What kind of butler would I be if I did not know my lady's favorite tea?" he replies with a smirk, clearly pleased.

"A bad one?" I tease, lips curling.

He gives an amused tilt of his head. "I also come bearing news for the young master. There is an unexpected guest waiting in the parlor to meet with you."

"A guest?" Ciel frowns. "Who?"

"Someone I inquired about for future employment here at the manor, my lord." Sebastian answers with a closed-eye smile.

"You—!" Ciel begins, and I blink in surprise. Another servant?

"Well, bring them in," I say, intrigued. "I'm rather curious, after all."

"Yes, my lady." Sebastian smirks and wheels the cart back out.

There's an odd spring in his step as he goes.

Ciel sighs loud enough to make a statement.

"This servant better have skills unlike the other two." he groans.

I chuckle and cross my legs. "Hey. They're smart enough—just not manor smart. That's a whole different beast." I shake my head, recalling their many misadventures already.

Before Ciel can shoot back, the door opens again.

Sebastian strolls in, followed by a tall, gaunt man with blonde hair. Middle-aged, maybe. He moves slowly, eyes scanning the room with caution, exhaustion heavy in his frame. A bandage wraps around his forehead like a souvenir from war.

Sebastian launches into his explanation. Apparently, his two-day absence last week—where the entire manor nearly fell apart—was spent in America. My brow arches. America? In two days? That's either a bold lie…or something only he could pull off.

"So…an American soldier as a chef?" Ciel questions flatly.

"Yes." Sebastian replies with the same confident smile.

"Do we need one?" Ciel leans back in his chair, skeptical. "You've managed fine on your own in the kitchen."

"Yes. However, for public image's sake, a chef is an important role to fill." Sebastian counters smoothly. The contrast between his poise and Baldroy's dull-eyed stare is staggering.

"I believe this is necessary for the house's restoration."

"He has a point," I comment absently, though I feel Baldroy's gaze shift to me. It's heavier than expected. I look away, but Ciel's loud sigh distracts me again.

"Suppose you're correct. Then wouldn't a French or Italian chef be more useful for prestige?"

"I don't think you have a problem with Americans," Baldroy says suddenly, tone sharper than expected. His eyes settle back on me. I freeze at the intensity in them. "Didn't realize nationality made food taste better. Long as it's edible, it shouldn't really matter, now should it?"

Ciel catches the jab. His eyes narrow.

"To be clear," he says with a smirk, "with regards to meals and Americans, I do not care who they are or who makes it. However, higher class cuisine is always preferred."

The tension ebbs slightly. I sip my tea, a small sweatdrop forming. When's the last time I talked to an American? His accent is strangely familiar—like something tugging from the past.

"On the battlefield, they may have told you 'burn it 'til it's black,' however…" Ciel continues dryly. "You may not do so in this manor's kitchen. That's an order."

Baldroy stares down at Ciel—wary, unreadable. Something about the look unsettles me.

I set down my teacup, hoping to lighten the mood. "It can't be worse than the beginning of Sebastian's cooking adventure." I flash the butler a smug look.

I feel his glare even before I see it. "My lady, I believe you never complain when I cook now. In fact, you inhale it."

I gape. "You're really gonna throw that in my face?"

He clears his throat and rests a hand on his hip.

"Please bear in mind, we didn't scout him out for his cooking skills. However, the Phantomhive manor is in need of higher-ranking servants other than myself."

Ciel pauses, considering. Then he nods. "I'll leave him to you, then. Educate him thoroughly."

Sebastian bows with one hand to his chest. "Yes, my lord."

The two exit together. The door shuts softly behind them.

I glance at Ciel, curious. "An American chef in a British household," I say, stretching out across the couch lazily. "The world must really be imploding."

He shuffles some papers. "Sebastian will teach him the necessities."

"You're awfully confident in him," I murmur. "If I had to train three people at once in various tasks, I'd lose my head."

"Good thing it's not you, then." Ciel scoffs. Suddenly he's looming over me. "Or else nothing would be done right."

A tick mark pulses on my brow. "Excuse you? I used to be a very good maid. I've trained before!"

He smirks. "Is that so? That's not what I used to hear…"

I sit up instantly. "Oi! I don't know what the other servants gossiped about, but they were just jealous of my position!"

He arches a brow. "Why?"

"I had your father's favor. Sometimes your mother's. You two loved me. And I had a respected position with more freedom than most." I tick off each reason with a finger.

Ciel's eye softens. "Well…when you put it like that. Perhaps I can see why."

Without warning, I grab him. He yelps as I pull him onto me, hugging him tightly. "They were just jealous because I had two little shadows who loved me sooo much!" I squeal.

"Rina!" he squirms in my hold. "Let me go this instant!"

I laugh and nuzzle the top of his head before finally releasing him. He stumbles off, red-faced and panting.

"What was that for?!" he snaps.

I grin, all innocence. "What? I can't hug you?"

"You were teasing me!"

"You know…" I grin wider. "A long, long time ago, a little boy used to love being cuddled. He'd never leave my side…"

"Agh!" He claps his hands over his ears. "Stop it! I don't want to hear your sappy stories! You're crazy!"

He storms off, the door slamming behind him.

I slump back on the couch, smiling faintly. Yeah…a long, long time ago. I was just his nanny. He was a boy I'd raised since birth. And I…I was just a girl, clinging to the past, hoping for something else.

I take a slow breath and close my eyes.

A memory surfaces—just a girl, filthy and hungry in a dark alley.

I'm still not sure which future I dreamed of more.

0o0o0o0o

The next morning hits like a brick. Breakfast is late, and I'm so hungry it actually wakes me up. I shuffle out of bed in my robe and slippers, zombified. Where the hell is Sebastian? I'm used to a routine—tea, food, life.

My stomach growls loud enough to echo.

The closer I get to the kitchen, the more something smells…off. My nose wrinkles. Is that…smoke? My instincts flare and I run, panic kicking in.

I slam the kitchen door open—and chaos greets me.

Baldroy stands in the middle of it all. He spins toward the noise.

"Huh? What?"

I stare. A whole chicken is on fire in the roaster.

"It's on fire?! OH MY FUCKING GOD!" I scream and bolt to the cupboards.

"BARD!" Sebastian's voice cuts through the chaos like a whip, his horror palpable. "The chicken is on fire?!"

"Oh shit!" Bard yells, wide-eyed.

I grab the baking soda and chuck it at Sebastian. "For the fire!"

He catches it mid-air and dashes to the roaster, dumping the whole container on the blaze. The flames sputter, sizzle, die. He carefully pulls out the scorched chicken with a washcloth and sets it on the counter.

I inch closer, eyes wide. "I've never seen a chicken so burnt." I poke it gently. "It's literally charred all around…"

The other servants trickle in, likely drawn by the smoke and screaming.

"Woah!" Finny gasps.

Mey-Rin's eyes are huge behind her glasses. "W-What happened?!"

We all stare down at the chicken, dumbfounded. Sebastian massages his temples.

"Rather than teach you how not to burn it," he mutters, "it seems we'll need to consider ways to make use of all the burnt chicken we're bound to get…"

Finny peels off some skin and takes a bite. "That's bitter!"

I try a piece out of morbid curiosity. "Oh, that's nasty." I force it down with visible regret.

"Long as it's edible…and it's sorta edible…" Bard mumbles, clearly embarrassed.

I sigh. "I mean…you tried your best. That's what matters." I sweatdrop. "Just…don't light the kitchen on fire next time, please."

"Tried is one way to put it…" Sebastian mutters darkly, glaring at Bard with soul-deep disappointment.

I smirk and lean toward Sebastian. "Are you stressed out yet, Sebastian?" I ask mockingly.

He glares, unimpressed. "And what exactly is my ladyship doing in the kitchen, hm?" he counters, dodging the question.

"I was hungry. Breakfast was late." I reply shortly, folding my arms.

"Do you not have patience?" he sighs, clearly irritated.

"When it comes to food, no." I giggle and plant my hands on my hips. "What's for breakfast and when will it be ready?"

He slips a pocket watch from his jacket and checks the time. "Give it about five minutes. I apologize for the delay, my lady. Today's menu includes Jasmine tea paired with omelettes and diced fruit."

I smirk knowingly. "Oh, that sounds good! And while I appreciate the apology, I'm not the one who's going to give you the biggest earful for being late."

He deflates a bit at that before straightening again with a blank expression. "Yes, well, it appears breakfast was stalled due to someone burning lunch. My apologies once again."

I hum thoughtfully, already turning to go. "Good luck, Sebastian."

I can feel his glare trailing behind me as I exit, a grin blooming on my face.

Ah yes, pestering our dear butler—it's one of my favorite pastimes.

Not that he doesn't return the jabs just as sharply. Honestly, it's a complete 180 from our first meeting. He's getting used to me. I think that fondly as I leave the kitchen behind.

0o0o0o0o

The sound of gunfire rips me from sleep.

I jolt upright in bed, breath caught in my throat. My body trembles with adrenaline as I scramble out from under the sheets. Something crashes—glass—just beyond my door. I reach for the sword I keep by the bedside and bolt for the hallway.

The pounding in my chest is deafening. For a moment, I'm back there again—the manor aflame, chaos everywhere. I force the memory down and push open the door.

A man stands right outside.

I don't hesitate.

I lunge forward and stab him clean through the skull. My sword drives in with a jolt of my arm, clean and practiced. Only then do I notice Baldroy—mere steps away—knife raised, mid-attack.

We lock eyes in the dim hallway, both of us frozen as the intruder makes a choking sound and collapses.

As the body slumps to the floor, I pull my sword free and flick it aside. Blood arcs, splattering the wooden boards. The hallway is already stained with more of it—two bodies, crimson smeared everywhere.

Bard stares at me, still stunned.

"Your boss is going to give you an earful." I yawn, rubbing my eye.

"Quiet! Do you realize what time it is?!" Ciel bursts from his room, clearly annoyed. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to hide his damaged eye. "You haven't killed them all, have you?"

I stand across from him, just outside my door. His gaze flicks over me, assessing. No blood on me, but plenty around my feet. His eye catches on the sword in my hand. I see it narrow.

"Um, er, this is…" Bard stammers, trying—and failing—to form a coherent excuse.

"What's this?" Ciel asks flatly, glancing down at the corpses. "More assassins?"

"More?" Bard repeats, voice going up a pitch.

"It's been a while since they got this close, brother." I murmur, my tone heavy with fatigue.

"Huh?" Bard's confusion deepens.

"Mhm, indeed," Ciel says, tone cool and unreadable. "Capture one alive. We'll need to interrogate them to find who hired them." His focus snaps back to Bard. "The price for disturbing our rest isn't cheap. I'll make sure they pay dearly for this."

He smiles darkly and yawns as he turns back toward his bedroom.

"Make sure to clean up by morning." he adds.

"Good night, brother." I call softly.

"Good night, Rina."

The door clicks shut behind him.

I turn back to Baldroy, who looks completely shell-shocked by the entire exchange. I can't help myself—I decide to have a little fun with him.

"Baldroy," I say sweetly, and his wide eyes snap to mine. "Wake me again and make me defend myself, and that will have consequences as well. You see, Sebastian hates waking me up in the morning. And now that my rest has been disturbed…" I smile, too saccharine to be kind, "it'll make his task far more difficult."

I tilt my head. "Please, think of your lady—and your co-workers—in advance."

With that, I step back into my room and flash him a genuine grin. "Good night!"

I shut the door gently, leaving him in the hallway slack-jawed and stunned.

No way I'm falling back asleep.

I yawn as I pad back toward the bed, sword still in hand. I set it on the floor and sit on the edge of the mattress, finally registering what just happened.

I killed someone. Again.

Just like that. No hesitation. No second thought. A clean, practiced kill. I stare at my hand, still curled from the grip on the hilt.

There's no trembling.

No guilt.

I remember smiling when it happened.

I press my face into my palm, squeezing my eyes shut. A sigh escapes me, long and bitter.

Seriously…I don't know what's going on with me anymore.

Chapter Text

Today, it seems Ciel's arranged another match against Sebastian. Entertainment? Information? I'm not sure. We're sitting outside in the manor's backyard, the servants standing silently behind us as if watching a prizefight.

Across from Sebastian stands a man with long brown hair and a colorful, ridiculous robe.

The air hangs heavy with tension. Sebastian adjusts his gloves, calm and poised. The man takes a stance I'd associate with some Asian martial art—deliberate, focused.

"Flower Bird Wind Moon All Kinds of Flowers Profusion Fist!" the man yells.

I sweatdrop. That name…Seriously? This isn't Mortal Kombat. Then he throws in, "Take this! Secret Technique!" and starts waving his arms in some memorizing pattern that's probably supposed to look cool.

Sebastian watches him patiently, tightening his other glove. Suddenly, the man lunges—and in a flash, Sebastian mirrors the movement, shifts—and appears behind him in a finishing pose.

My jaw drops. Damn. But honestly, I'm used to this by now. I still don't get why Ciel bothers testing him. It's pointless.

I once tried fighting Sebastian myself…lasted ten seconds before I got my ass handed to me. I avoided him for a week after that. Still embarrassing. Even now, the memory makes me bristle.

The poor guy collapses, coughing up blood. I wince. That must've hurt. Sebastian stands behind him, unfazed.

"This is our school's last hidden secret technique...!" the man chokes out. "Super Tiger Dragon Gun Ten Thousand Blossom Scattering Fissure Fist. What in the world are you?!"

I hum, leaning on the table with my elbow. A question I've been asking myself for two years now. I call him The Impossible Man.

Sebastian dusts off his gloves. "I'm the butler of the house of Phantomhive." Then, calmly, "What would you do if you couldn't use that technique?"

I sweatdrop again. Honestly? I'd probably stab the guy in the gut. Sebastian closes his eyes with a smile.

"And that's how it is, young master. Because I won, please do today's review and tomorrow's pre-lesson."

Ciel tsks beside me. I snicker behind my hand.

"That's what you get, brother," I say with a smirk.

He shoots me a glare. I cross my arms, amused as the servants gush over Sebastian. Typical.

"A true master of the fist technique would accompany me to unknown regions," Ciel says with a sigh. "Though, I thought I'd see you on your knees today."

Sebastian's smile doesn't falter. "That is too bad."

I grab the nearby glass I'd been eyeing—a glass filled with poison, thanks to the look Ciel gave earlier—and hand it to Sebastian with a smirk and mock-cheerful tone, "Here, Sebastian, for your outstanding work."

"Thank you, my lady." he replies, taking it and drinking it all in one go.

I blanch. How does he drink that stuff?! He sets the glass down with a soft clink. I stare, dumbfounded. That would've killed a normal man in seconds.

Ciel smirks, clearly satisfied. The servants continue marveling. I swear they treat Sebastian like some celebrity chef mixed with a demon ninja.

Then Sebastian turns and flashes that eerie, closed-eye smile. "By the way, what are all of you doing here?"

The servants freeze.

I sit back, watching the chaos with a grin as he starts his usual scolding.

"Finny, have you finished weeding the courtyard? Mey-Rin, how are the shirts in the laundry? Bard, is dinner going as planned?"

Their guilty expressions only make Sebastian's temper simmer hotter. I swear, I can practically see devil horns poking out of his hair.

"If you have time to loaf around, then do your jobs!" he snaps.

They scatter immediately.

"Speaking of work, Sebastian…" Ciel stands as Sebastian helps him up. "There was a call from him in Italy."

"From Sir Clause?" Sebastian asks, handing him his cane.

"We talked about this. Come."

Ciel heads inside, Sebastian in tow.

I groan and slump in my seat. Ugh. That guest. "Rina, make sure you're ready to greet him." Ciel calls without turning back.

I wave him off with a fake smile. I don't want to dress up, I whine internally.

Tanaka stays with me as I enjoy the crisp morning air. I've grown used to being excluded from their scheming. Still stings, though. They just don't want me to hear. I'm automatically denied.

And honestly, what's so bad I can't know? If they're "special" guests, it just means Ciel wants to toy with them. He treats them like chess pieces.

It wasn't always like this. Ciel used to be sweet, even timid. But Sebastian's influence changed him—sharpened his edges, soured him.

Now his idea of fun is watching people squirm.

What kind of kid does that?

Only Elizabeth and I get to see glimpses of the boy he once was.

Ugh. Speaking of Elizabeth…she's betrothed to him. And Lady Midford keeps trying to push me toward Edward. I'll never marry Edward. I hate him and he hates me—so no.

I don't see him that way, and I'm not about to fake it for anyone.

I stretch and stand. Tanaka quietly gathers the glasses and heads off toward the kitchen. I wander back inside, sighing.

Now what?

0o0o0o0o

My stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead. I push open the kitchen door, expecting to find tonight's feast laid out. Instead…shattered china and a slab of what might be meat. Burnt. Completely.

I blink, stepping around the disaster.

Mey-Rin, Bard, and Finnian are huddled together in a guilty cuddle pile.

"Wh—How?!" I sputter.

Mey-Rin answers first, panicked, "W-We were just trying to help, yes!"

I rub my eyes. "Oh my god. You guys are so screwed."

I can already picture Sebastian's face.

"How in the world—" a familiar voice starts behind me.

Speak of the devil.

I stiffen as Sebastian enters with that classic closed-eye smile. Except…there's tension behind it. The servants whimper. I'd be scared too.

They meant well—but if you know better, don't do it.

Finnian crumbles first. "After I finished weeding, I sprinkled the weed killer and then—" he sniffles, "The lid was open!"

I glance outside. The backyard is dead. Brown and dry.

Mey-Rin bites her lip. "I brought the guest's tea set and…" Her voice fades. We all know she shattered it.

Bard looks sheepish. "I was moving the raw meat, but…I set it down and thought I'd cook it..."

I sigh deeply. Do they not understand basic logic?

They all beg for forgiveness.

Sebastian pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "I understand. I'll finish setting up. Even I have faults."

Poor guy. I fold my arms, watching curiously. With dinner destroyed and supplies limited, what's his plan?

Just then, Tanaka appears and hands me a warm cup of tea. I smile and inhale the scent gratefully.

Tanaka's lemonade? Pass. But his tea? Absolutely.

"You all should follow Tanaka's example and act a little more like adu—" Sebastian pauses mid-sentence, eyes landing on our teacups. Something shifts in his gaze. Then—clap.

"Please be quiet, everyone."

Finnian sniffles. The room falls silent.

Sebastian lifts my cup right out of my hand before I can react. My jaw drops. He did NOT just—

"This is what we'll do." he announces, holding my tea hostage.

I sneak up behind him to reclaim it. He anticipates me, raising it higher. I stand on tiptoes. "Give. It. Back."

He ignores me. "Bard, Finnian—get what I asked for. Mey-Rin, prepare the dining room."

They vanish. Cowards.

Now it's just the two of us.

"You don't even need the tea anymore!" I whine.

"I never once heard a please, my lady." he replies with a smirk.

My eye twitches. "You stole it! Why should I beg?"

He cocks his head. "You want it, don't you?"

He leans down to eye level, smug. My cheeks flush. "I do, so be nice and give it back."

He pauses, amused, then finally sighs and returns it. "I don't have time for these games right now."

I sip my now-cool tea, scowling. Still good. Still rude.

Fifteen minutes later, the others return.

"Hey Sebastian, is this really okay?" Baldroy asks as Sebastian finely chops the burnt meat. It's charred outside, raw inside. Of course.

"It will do." Sebastian replies.

Mey-Rin rushes in with boxes—then promptly trips. I brace to scream, but Sebastian catches everything with inhuman precision. A box balanced on one foot, others in one hand, Mey-Rin in his arms.

She blushes furiously. I snicker.

"How many times have I told you not to run in the mansion?" he sighs.

"S-Sorry! My glasses are broken from before…" she mumbles.

Sebastian just smiles. "But with this, the leading actor need not worry."

I sweatdrop. He doesn't care if she cracked her skull. Just wants the dinner drama to go off without a hitch.

That's Sebastian. Calculating, cold, and…weirdly efficient.

Finnian bursts in next. "I brought gravel and the other things you asked for!"

Sebastian brightens slightly. "…Is that so? Good work. I'll handle the final touches."

He smiles, wiping his hands on a towel. "Now—please rest. And sincerely—act like adults."

He repeats, closed eyes and all, "Act. Like. Adults."

He said it twice, I think, sweatdropping.

The others scatter.

Then his gaze lands on me. "I believe I asked everyone to rest."

I shrug and move beside him. "I want to help."

"No."

"But Sebastian~ Four hands are better than two."

"Please, my lady. I can manage alone."

He grabs my shoulders suddenly and shoves me toward the door. I dig my heels in, but he's relentless.

"I just want to be of use—!"

SLAM.

He shuts the door in my face.

I glare. I kick the door.

"Prick!"

Why does no one let me help?

0o0o0o0o

Sitting in front of my mirror, I tighten my hair bun with a slight frown. I really don't want to greet the guest tonight. I think it's Clause—someone I vaguely remember from before.

Once I'm finished, I head to the main staircase and descend, my steps slow, reluctant. The servants are already waiting by the front door, Sebastian among them, all standing in perfect form. I assume Ciel's outside, waiting to greet Clause personally.

I approach, trying to hide my lack of enthusiasm. All I want is to get this dress off.

"Miss Rina, you look so pretty!" Finnian beams when he sees me.

I blink, caught off guard. A blush rises as I scratch my cheek. "Aww, thanks!" I grin, despite myself. It's been ages since someone complimented me. It…feels good. I feel seen.

My olive-green evening gown isn't fancy, just simple enough to reflect my status. I've never cared for expensive things anyway.

"Miss Rina is always beautiful, yes!" Mey-Rin chimes in with a bright smile.

My blush deepens under their attention. "H-Hey, what's with all the focus on me?" I ask, squirming under the spotlight. I want to melt through the floor.

Baldroy snickers nearby. Great. I'm probably beet-red now. Is it suddenly hotter in here?

I clear my throat, attempting to regain composure, but my face stays warm. Then I catch Sebastian's amused gaze from the corner of my eye.

Ugh. He enjoys this. Watching me suffer. My blush burns hotter. I seriously want to drop dead on the spot.

I love the servants, I do—but did they all get a memo to fluster me today?

I edge over to stand by Baldroy as we wait for the guest and Ciel to return. Silence stretches. I tug lightly at my sleeves, fiddling.

Then the front door creaks open, and in walks Ciel with Clause trailing behind, the two speaking quietly until our greeting interrupts.

"Welcome, Sir Clause." we all say in unison. The men bow, and the women curtsey.

Clause surveys the manor, pleasantly surprised. "Oh…this is…" He trails off, eyes wandering. "You've made the mansion beautiful."

"We've been waiting for you, Sir Clause." Sebastian replies smoothly.

"Sebastian! It's been a while!" Clause steps forward, warmly shaking his hand. Finnian, grinning, clings to Clause's jacket like an excited puppy. Clause laughs and places his hat on Finnian's head. "Seems there are more faces in the house now?"

Sebastian leads him further inside.

Clause catches sight of me, and I follow reluctantly.

"Ah! Lady Rina, a pleasure to meet you again!" he greets, taking my hand and brushing it with his lips. "You're more charming than I remember."

I freeze, smile tight. Is there a sign taped to my back that says Compliment Rina Day?

I chuckle awkwardly, sweatdropping. "Why, thank you, Sir Clause! It's nic—"

Sebastian cuts in with that signature smile and a graceful gesture toward the door beside us. "Wouldn't you like to speak with my lord? I must attend dinner preparations. Please, enter the courtyard."

I shoot him a glare. Did he really just interrupt me? Again? Clause blinks in confusion.

"Courtyard?" he echoes.

Sebastian places a hand on the door. "This time, it is counter-balancing entertainment ordered by my lord. We hope it pleases you."

He opens the door with silence—and the sight before us actually stuns me.

A Japanese rock garden, pristine and tranquil, unfolds in the courtyard. Soft gravel patterns swirl around elegant stone features. My jaw slackens slightly. Stars might as well be sparkling in my eyes.

Okay…fine. That's impressive.

Sebastian gestures with grace. "Here, please relax."

"Oh! A rock garden straight from Japan!" Clause sounds equally thrilled. Ciel materializes beside him with perfect timing.

Sebastian leads us to a nearby table. "The tea preparations are complete. Please…" he says, motioning.

I help Ciel into his chair. He nods a quiet thank-you, and I sit next to him. Sebastian serves Clause first, his movements precise and silent. "Pardon the interruption." he murmurs.

Then he pours my tea. I nod in thanks.

Clause lifts his cup with interest. "Even green tea. You seem quite enthusiastic about the Japanese style."

Sebastian replies with that ever-serene smile. "I'm unworthy of those kind words."

I sweatdrop behind my cup. It's less enthusiasm and more Tanaka's influence, but sure, go off.

"I look forward to the meal as well." Clause says, laughing.

I blow gently on my tea. I've burned my tongue too many times. As I lift it to sip, I catch Ciel smiling faintly from the corner of my eye.

I almost choke.

What the hell? Ciel, smiling? Something's up.

"By the way, Clause, about the usual goods…" Ciel says, resting his head lazily on his hand.

Clause chuckles, pulling out a box. "Yes, I came, keeping my promise. Here's the game you wanted."

I stare at it, unimpressed. Another one? He's always obsessed with games. I used to play too, but he wins every time. I gave up long ago. The only game I can beat him at is Mario Kart if it existed in this era.

"It wasn't released yet in Italy. Hard to get."

Ciel seems pleased. "Hmm, difficult, huh? You emphasized that on the phone."

Clause leans forward. "The prince gave you the 'reward' that corresponds to the attendant, yes?"

Okay. Not talking about a game anymore.

I stay quiet, sipping tea, pretending I'm not listening.

"It's fine if the 'reward' matches the game," Ciel muses. "But recently, clearing it hasn't been an interesting ending."

Clause laughs, mock-sweet. "My my, if it's a game that 'kids' can handle, it should be effortless. You want me to send the next one soon?"

I blink. Is Clause an idiot? Did he really just insult Ciel to his face?

"Yes. 'Kids' have a greed for games." Ciel replies, a dark glint in his eye.

I pale and raise my teacup higher, silently praying not to be noticed. Clause just keeps smiling.

"You were forced to develop the country's best game-maker at twelve. Very ominous."

Weird flex. I help with the toy and game business too, borrowing some ideas from the future here and there. No big deal.

Before Ciel can reply, Sebastian interrupts, gliding into the courtyard with a covered tray.

"Please pardon the interruption," he says. "The evening meal is prepared. Please pardon the wait. Tonight's menu is the head family's chef, Baldroy's Beef Donburi."

I snort softly. Bard? Really? Ciel and Clause both look surprised.

Personally, I don't care. I had Donburi once as a kid and liked it well enough—but with Sebastian's skill, I'm excited. Even if it's Bard's dish, I trust the execution.

Sebastian places the dish in front of Clause.

"Is this really the evening meal?" Clause asks, skeptical.

"Yes." Sebastian replies.

Clause opens his mouth to question further—but Sebastian cuts him off. Suddenly, sparkles seem to radiate from him. Literal sparkles.

I nearly drop my cup.

What…is happening?

"We have the laborers of ancient Japan to thank for Donburi, a feast serving many purposes," Sebastian declares, voice filled with reverence. "The contributor who finished his task put feelings of thanks and gratitude into this food—that is Donburi!"

We all just stare at him.

What the hell?!

A stray hair sticks up on my head from sheer secondhand embarrassment. Bring back normal Sebastian, I mentally scream. This one is terrifying.

Sebastian presses on. "The former peasant who yearned for court food—'lavish food'—is said to have invented Donburi. I thought Sir Clause might have grown tired of stuffy food. So, to let you savor the highest quality meat simply, I devoted myself to this idea."

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. He's so serious. Too serious.

Please stop talking before I lose it.

Clause bursts out laughing. "Ciel! This is the best! You never cease to surprise me!"

Ciel leans on his knuckles, relaxed. "In this industry, many colleagues lack humor, but with you, it's fun." he admits with a smirk.

"That's an honor."

I want to call bullshit on this entire conversation.

Sebastian steps in, placing bowls of Donburi in front of Ciel and me. The rich, savory scent hits immediately. Clause tucks a napkin into his collar, grinning. "It's exactly as you say. I'm tired of Italy's tough food. Thanks for the meal."

I smooth a napkin over my lap—something I rarely bother with. My fork sinks easily into the meat. I take a bite, chewing happily as flavor floods my mouth.

If I didn't work out every day, I'd be fat on Sebastian's food alone.

A beat passes before Sebastian speaks again. "May the wine suit your taste. Preparations for this product of Italy are complete."

He gestures toward Mey-Rin, who's holding the wine bottle like it's a live bomb.

She freezes. I sweatdrop. Oh no. Don't mess up, Mey-Rin...

Sebastian leans close and whispers something to her. I see her blush immediately, tomato-red. Oh my god, I groan internally. He just made it worse.

Mey-Rin inches forward like she's approaching a guillotine. I hold my breath. Something bad's about to happen—I feel it.

Clause turns to admire the floral arrangements again, blissfully unaware. I spot Mey-Rin beginning to pour…

And my heart drops.

She's not even close to the cup.

The wine misses entirely, splashing across the pristine white tablecloth. I stare, eyes wide. Ciel's frozen mid-bite, his eyes flicking down to the spreading stain. His jaw tightens. Mine does too.

And then—

A sudden gust of wind blasts past me. My hair flies back, white fills my vision.

What—?!

In a blink, the world snaps back into focus. The decorations rattle. My bowl rocks on the table.

Sebastian stands where he was, perfectly composed.

I gape. He looks like something out of an action film.

"Huh?! Where'd the tablecloth go?!" Clause exclaims.

I hear Ciel chuckle softly, a quiet cover-up. "The cloth got a little dirty, so it was removed. Don't let it worry you."

Sebastian bows smoothly, now holding the soaked tablecloth in his arms. "Excuse the interruption. Please continue to enjoy your meal."

Behind me, the servants whisper in awe. Bard mutters something about him being 'Superman.'

Sebastian sighs, clearly unimpressed. "I'm not 'Superman' or anything. It's because I am…" He pauses, smirking.

"…one hell of a butler."

I smirk too. There it is. My catchphrase.

Makes me feel proud every time he uses it.

I finish off the Donburi in happy silence, eavesdropping on my brother and Clause's conversation. I chime in here and there, but mostly I'm focused on eating.

Eventually, dessert arrives—finally, my favorite part of any meal. I devour it at lightning speed. It's amazing. Like melt-in-your-mouth heavenly.

"Sebastian, give me another!" I call out, lifting my empty plate without shame.

He sweatdrops, taking it from me with practiced grace.

"Yes, my lady."

Chapter Text

Ciel invites me to London for a minor errand. Why he wants me to come along? No clue. Not that I'm complaining—he rarely asks me to go anywhere with him, so I'll take what I can get. I'm content just being near him.

Unfortunately, the errand is thanks to a certain overzealous gardener snapping my brother's cane in half. Ciel was livid, rightfully so, and sent Sebastian to have it repaired.

The carriage pulls to a stop, and Sebastian opens the door with his usual butler grace. Ciel steps out first with Sebastian's help. I follow, ducking my head so I don't crack it on the frame. Sebastian offers his hand—I take it, giving him a quick nod of thanks. He shuts the door behind me just as Ciel starts off toward the shop.

There aren't many people out, which feels odd for a Saturday.

Sebastian and I walk side by side while Ciel leads the way. Thankfully, the shop isn't far. Ciel opens the door, and we trail in after him. I close it gently behind us.

A portly man stands at the counter and greets us with a grin. "Welcome, boy. On an errand for your father?"

I wince. Yeah... parent talk doesn't exactly sit well with either of us.

Sebastian steps in before Ciel can respond. "Excuse me. We came to get master's cane," he says with his trademark closed-eye smile.

He strolls up to the counter and hands over the receipt.

"Ah, so you're the owner of this cane," the man says, squinting at it. "Exactly what sort of person do you intend to have use this cane? It couldn't be that kid…"

Wow. Rude much? Ever heard of short people needing canes too? Just say you're nosy and move on.

Sebastian clearly doesn't appreciate the remark either. In a flash, he whips the cane up to the man's face. He moves like he's got superpowers—blink, and it's done.

"It doesn't bend. It's a well-built cane," Sebastian states, lowering it with elegance. He pulls out a money pouch and drops it on the counter. The man freezes, clearly spooked.

"This should cover it."

Without a word, Ciel turns and walks out. I follow, and Sebastian is last, passing the newly repaired cane to my brother. Ciel takes it with a quiet "hmph" and heads for the carriage.

"Finnie's idiocy is another bothersome thing. Thanks to that, I got stuck with getting a new one." he mutters.

"Indeed," Sebastian replies. "It's true that you grew, but it did take time."

I frown. "No need to remind me my little brother is growing." I grumble, arms crossed.

We pass a toy shop, and a little boy's excited voice cuts through the air. "Look, mommy! Phantom's Beter Rabbit! It's a new one!"

I can't help but smile as his mom scolds him for changing his mind again. The stuffed rabbits are pretty cute, not gonna lie.

I glance at Ciel to see if he reacts. He only throws the display a glance before looking away. I sigh inwardly. Deep down, I know he misses being spoiled like that. I mean…what kid wouldn't?

The carriage is just ahead. Sebastian opens the door, efficient as ever. "Now then, young master and my lady, let us head back to the mansion quickly."

Ciel climbs in first, and I follow, pouting a little. I sit across from him, arms folded.

All that…for a cane? Not exactly the most thrilling adventure.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The carriage ride back is the usual quiet lull. Boredom builds slowly until we pull into the drive. I perk up at the sight of home and throw the door open with giddy force—Sebastian's already there to do it for me, but I beat him to it.

I hop out, wobbling slightly in my heels. Not my most graceful landing. Sebastian frowns, unimpressed. "My lady, you should have waited till I opened the door."

I shrug as he helps my brother down next. "God forbid I open a door…" I mutter, arms crossed. I swear, I hate being a noble more and more every day.

Why'd you do this to me, Vincent?

I skip ahead toward the manor, hearing the synchronized sigh from both boys behind me. Seriously, someone has to lighten up around here. At the top of the stairs, I stop and wait, hands on my hips. If Sebastian insists on opening doors, fine—he can do it. I'm not in the mood for one of his lectures.

He does. And my jaw nearly unhinges.

What. The. Hell.

Everything inside is pink. Pink streamers. Pink curtains. Stuffed animals everywhere. It's like a toddler's birthday party exploded in our foyer. I blink at the mess, stunned. Sebastian hasn't seen it yet, but he's eyeing our faces with suspicion.

I grab his arms and spin him toward the doorway. "What's wro—" he starts, that fake smile of his slipping the second I shove him forward.

The moment he sees it, he stiffens. I feel the shift in the air; even he's lost for words. We step inside, cautious.

"What in the world," Ciel mutters, staring around in horror, "...is this?!"

"It's—It's so girly," I whisper, head starting to throb from the sheer amount of pink.

A loud rumble cuts through the awkward silence.

The servants come barreling in, shouting Sebastian's name. I flinch back in alarm. What the hell is going on?! Finnian's wearing bunny ears—kind of cute, actually—and Bard's got a frilly maid bonnet strapped to his skull. I bite back a laugh.

Sebastian pales, which seems impossible considering how pale he already is. "What in the world is this?!" he demands, a few wild strands sticking out from his usually perfect hair.

"I want to know why they look like this more!" I chime in, stepping up to Bard and giving his bonnet a tug. "Pft."

He scowls and jerks his thumb toward the drawing room. "Go ask that crazy girl."

"Crazy girl?" I echo, head tilting toward the door.

Oh no. I have a very bad feeling about this...

The three of us creep toward it like we're approaching a crime scene. Sebastian opens it a crack, and we all lean in. From inside, a high-pitched voice rings out.

"These ribbons are good, too. But these satin roses are cuteeeee!"

I go pale. I know that voice.

Oh God. It's Elizabeth—my fencing partner. And my brother's fiancée. I glance at Tanaka in horror. He's wearing a curly wig and a massive bow. That poor, poor old man.

She giggles, fluffing his costume. "…but like I thought, you wearing that is totally adorable! You look like Antoinette!"

Internally, I mourn for Tanaka. I've been through this torture before. I am, tragically, desensitized.

Then she spots us.

I freeze like a deer in pink headlights. Her eyes lock on Ciel with a piercing "Ah!"

I immediately shove him into the room. Sorry not sorry.

He turns back to glare at me with death in his eyes. I just smirk.

You're welcome.

A frilly blur collides with him. "Ciel! I wanted to see you!"

I snicker, catching Sebastian's smirk from the corner of my eye. "E-Elizabeth!" Ciel yelps, struggling in her grasp.

"Call me Liz! Aren't I always saying that?!" she squeals, hugging him tighter. "Just as I thought, no matter how many times I look at you, you're the cutest!"

Okay, I'll give her that one. She's got taste. I grin at the sight of them—Elizabeth always brings a fresh breeze with her. Like cracking open a window in a dusty house.

Sebastian clears his throat behind me, clearly ready to move this circus along. "Miss Elizabeth..."

She finally releases Ciel, who collapses in a gasping heap. Then she turns and trots over to Sebastian and me. I beam at her.

"Sebastian, Rina, good day!" she smiles.

"It has been a while since I have laid my eyes on you." Sebastian says with a bow.

"I have a souvenir for both of you, too!~"

Ooh, a present?! I'm weirdly excited. It's going to be disgustingly cute, isn't it?

She places a tiara on my head—red and black gems, hopefully fake. Still...I kind of love it. Then she turns to Sebastian and, in one horrifyingly smooth motion, plants a giant flower-covered bonnet on his head.

I freeze. It takes five full seconds to process the crime she just committed.

"...eh?" Sebastian utters, blinking.

"You see!" Elizabeth beams. His face stays frozen in stunned silence. I choke, stifling the laugh clawing up my throat. Behind me, the servants are struggling not to explode. "Ahh! It's so cuteeee! You're always wearing black, so I thought those colors would be good!"

I lose it.

Tears stream from my eyes as I double over, howling. This is the best thing I've ever seen. I need to etch it into memory—preserve it, frame it, cherish it forever.

Sebastian glares. That kind of glare that feels like a soul punch. The servants collapse behind me from the force of it.

Still laughing, I manage to wheeze out, "Ah—Sebastian, y-you know...it really suits you."

His eyes narrow. A beat passes before that perfectly polite mask slides back into place. "Regard for the things I wear, that sort of regard for me...it is a great honor."

"It's fine!" Elizabeth beams.

Ciel coughs pointedly. "More importantly, Lizi, why are you here? What about grandmother?"

They start talking, but I tune them out and turn toward Sebastian, who's still sulking beside me.

"You know, she's got a point," I tease, still giggling. "You always wear black. I do wonder what you'd look like in red."

He sighs dramatically, playing the part of the tragic fool...until he smirks. "Are you saying I am on your mind often, my lady?"

I flush and smack his arm. "Shut up. You wish."

Bard appears behind us, eyeing Elizabeth with suspicion. "Sebastian, who exactly is that girl?"

Sebastian straightens, calm and composed, pink bonnet be damned. "Lady Elizabeth is the young master's fiancée."

I shudder. Love her or not, that's a big nope from me.

Behind us, the servants freeze.

"Fi—?!" they exclaim, too stunned to finish.

Ciel steps forward, trying to regain control. "If she left without saying anything, then grandmother must be worried. Sebastian, contact—"

He doesn't finish.

Elizabeth grabs his jacket and drags him away like a ragdoll. "Cieeeeeeel~! Come heeeeeeere~!"

We trail behind her into the foyer—now a sea of pastel chaos. The ballroom is even worse. It's like a cupcake factory exploded.

"Look, look! I made the ballroom cute too, didn't I?!"

We all stare, stunned into silence.

"That's right!" she chirps. "Hey Ciel, Rina, since it took a lot of work to make the ballroom like this, let's have a dance party today!"

I go stiff, face paling. Ciel looks equally horrified. "Wha..." he breathes.

"A...dance?" Sebastian echoes faintly.

Nope. Not excited. Not even a little.

"Wear the clothes I picked for you, Ciel! I think it'll definitely be cuuuute!" Elizabeth says, practically bouncing in place. Ciel tries to protest, but she's on a roll. "Dancing with Ciel in the clothes I picked out for him. It's like a dream! I will have to dress stylishly with all my might, too!"

He opens his mouth again, but—yeah. No use. She's too far gone.

So, being the gracious sibling I am, I slide up beside her with my brightest smile. "Why don't we go plan it out?" I offer.

Her eyes sparkle. "Yes, good idea! Let's go, Rina!"

She loops her arm through mine and drags me off. I throw Ciel a deadly glare over my shoulder. He better make this up to me, or I swear—I'll make his life a living hell.

0o0o0o0o

I trudge down the hall after spending two hours with Elizabeth. Two. Hours. Of outfit changes, ribbons, shoes, gossip, more ribbons, and very enthusiastic opinions about tea.

I'm exhausted—physically, emotionally, spiritually. I faked a polite cough and said I wasn't feeling well just to escape. Technically not a lie. My soul has left the building.

I head toward the study, praying Ciel's there. I want dessert. And if I have to indulge, then he has to suffer with me—it makes the guilt easier to stomach.

I reach the door and push it open without ceremony—then freeze.

I wasn't ready for this.

Inside, Ciel and Sebastian are dancing.

They stop the instant they see me. Ciel jumps like he's been caught robbing a bank. Sebastian is...unreadable, as usual.

My sugar craving vanishes.

I stare, completely and utterly dumbfounded.

"R-Rina!" Ciel yelps, face flushing scarlet.

I step into the room slowly, trying to wrap my head around what I'm seeing. "Uh…"

Ciel jerks away from Sebastian like he's been burned. "I-It's not what it looks like!"

I raise an eyebrow. "What exactly are you hinting at?"

He stammers something incoherent and stares at the wall. I blink and glance at Sebastian instead. "Why are you practicing dancing?"

Ciel huffs and looks away, clearly annoyed—with himself.

Sebastian, unbothered, explains, "The young master doesn't know how to."

I giggle behind my hand. "Oh, I see. Does he have two left feet?"

Ciel shoots me a death glare that only makes me smirk harder. He's so easy to tease.

"He needs plenty of practice," Sebastian says smoothly. "Perhaps you could help him? He struggles with my height."

I blink. "Uh…well, the thing with that is…I don't know how either." I scratch my cheek, sheepish. It's not like I've never danced, but the waltzes here are another beast entirely. If I broke into the robot, I'd be burned at the stake.

Sebastian raises a brow, mildly surprised. "You do not know how? This is a surprise." He taps his knuckle to his chin, thoughtful.

I shrug, and Ciel visibly relaxes, comforted that he's not the only one who sucks.

"Why don't you and the young master pair up, and I'll instruct you both?" Sebastian offers.

A slow grin spreads across my face. My exhaustion lifts like fog. This is too good.

"I accept this challenge." I beam, stepping forward.

I glance at Ciel—who's…blushing again. Oh my gosh. He's that embarrassed to dance with me? That's adorable. Elizabeth wasn't wrong—he really is cute when he gets like this.

"What do you say, sport?" I tease, sliding into position.

He gulps like I just challenged him to a duel and sighs. "Fine…" he mutters.

I barely contain a squeal as he steps closer. He grabs both my hands, still red-faced. Honestly, I don't think I've seen him this flustered since he was little. My heart squeezes at the memory. I think my smile accidentally widens—oops.

He's gotten taller, but his head still only reaches near my chest, but not quite there yet.

Sebastian's voice cuts in smoothly. "Now that both of you are in position—young master, when the song begins, you will begin with the left foot. My lady, after his first step, you shall go back one step with your left."

I nod, keeping my eyes on Ciel.

He starts to move, but his face is so red I'm worried he might pass out. He's a mess—tense, stiff, mortified. Still, I'm honestly thrilled he's trying.

Then—clack. His foot slams down on mine.

I wince, biting back a yelp. Okay. Ow. Maybe I should lead? No—etiquette says the man leads. I'll tough it out.

Ciel shoots me a mortified look, jaw clenched. He knows exactly what he did.

"Next is the turn, young master," Sebastian says, patient as ever. I silently cheer Ciel on—You got this. It's just turning. Turning is easy.

We begin to spin. Or…attempt to. His foot clips my shin.

Wham.

A strangled little whimper escapes me before I can stop it. My lip wobbles. My poor leg. Ciel freezes, horrified, like he just committed a war crime.

Then, without a word, he yanks his hands out of mine and pulls back.

I frown, a little disappointed. Despite the pain, I was actually having fun. It's rare we get moments like this—moments that feel normal, sibling-like.

Sebastian lets out a long, theatrical sigh. "You can't dance with high social status ungracefully. In any case, first of all, please do something about that sour look."

Before Ciel can respond, Sebastian reaches down and pinches his cheek.

"It is rude to the lady," he scolds. "Even if it's a lie, please make it seem like you're having fun. For reference, my lady was attempting her beautiful smile when being stepped on. Most women will not be so happy about the incident."

I blush faintly at the compliment, then roll my eyes as Sebastian tugs at Ciel's face, molding his lips into a crooked, forced grin.

"Alright—smile happily."

If I actually saw my brother smile without sarcasm or snark, I might straight-up drop dead.

Just then, Ciel slaps Sebastian's hands away.

"Let go!" he snaps, voice cracking. His fists clench, and suddenly everything shifts.

"Somehow I've…smiling…" he mutters, eyes falling.

He goes quiet. Withdrawn. The spark drains from him like someone flipped a switch. His gaze falls to his gloved hand, then lowers further—to the ring on his finger. Gold catches the light, glinting like memory.

"To smile happily…I've forgotten."

My heart sinks.

"Brother…" I whisper, voice aching. He looks so small—not physically. Just…lost.

Even Sebastian's expression dims. The air stills, like the whole room is holding its breath.

0o0o0o0o

I grab a random dress from my closet, not exactly thrilled about tonight's event. After everything earlier, I feel…off. Not dramatic. Just dulled. Like the color's drained out of things.

I know it's normal. Emotions rise, emotions fall. But I can't shake this quiet ache.

All I've ever wanted is for my brother to be happy. But honestly? I don't think that's ever going to happen. Not the kind of happiness people mean. He might find temporary contentment, passing joy, brief moments of peace. But the real thing? The kind that stays?

No. Not for him. Not in this world.

My forehead rests against my folded arms on the vanity. I exhale through my nose, slow and steady. Then I lift my head. My reflection looks tired. I don't bother forcing a smile.

I rise, fingers trailing the wall as I walk out of the room. I just want the night to be over. I want to skip ahead—to the part where I can lie down again and stop pretending.

0o0o0o0o

I enter the ballroom last.

Everyone else is already here. Ciel's talking with Elizabeth, the servants dressed up for the occasion. The room looks stunning—probably the most elegant affair we've had in a while. Elizabeth has, of course, outdone herself.

And I can't deny it: the outfit she picked for Ciel suits him.

He looks…good.

Annoyingly good.

I start walking toward them, but before I reach, Elizabeth lets out a sudden shriek. "Ciel! Where's the ring I prepared for you?!"

I blink. What?

She's already grabbed his hand and is inspecting the ring on his finger like it personally offended her. I move to stand beside Sebastian, already feeling dizzy from how fast this has escalated.

"Huh? Ring?" Ciel echoes, clearly confused. "This ring is fine." he says, sighing.

But Elizabeth isn't having it.

"No! I went through a lot of trouble to make everything adorable!" she cries, panicking. "And the ring is totally not cute! Not even a little!"

I resist the urge to put my hand to my forehead. It's a ring, Elizabeth. Not a crime against humanity.

"And you're saying…" Her voice softens, trembling. "That you don't want the things I brought for you, Ciel?"

He tries to explain—or at least, he starts to. "That's not it…This ring is—"

But it's too late.

She pulls it off.

My stomach lurches. No. No no no. Don't touch that ring.

"...Mine now!" she shouts.

"Li—!" Ciel protests, reaching for her, but she lifts it high, triumphant.

"It's super old anyway!" she says, oblivious to the tension thickening around her. "The one I picked is way cuter and matches everything!"

"Give it back." Ciel says.

His voice is quiet, but it cuts like a cold blade. I feel it slice the air.

Elizabeth freezes. "Wh…why are you mad like that?" she asks, her voice shaking. "I worked so hard…"

She clutches the ring to her chest, her hands trembling. Ciel's eyes are clouded now—not with anger. With something worse. Heavier. Bitter and hollow.

"I just wanted to make you look cute," she says. Her voice cracks. "So why are you mad at me?! You're terrible!"

And then—

She throws it.

The ring sails from her hand and crashes to the ballroom floor. A sharp, echoing crack rings out. The gemstone breaks.

It sounds like a gunshot.

I gasp, my whole body seizing. Rage—hot, sharp, immediate—flares inside me.

You brat. You don't even know what you've done.

Ciel's shoulders start to shake. His hand lifts—too fast, too sharp.

He's going to hit her.

I move without thinking. I lunge forward and catch his hand mid-air.

Even though I'm furious—even though she deserves a lecture that lasts a month—I won't let him strike her. Not her. Not anyone.

Sebastian watches in silence, his expression unreadable. Ciel's chest heaves. I step in front of him, gently placing my body between them.

"Brother." I say softly.

Not Ciel. Never Ciel—not anymore.

I reach up and run my fingers through his hair, slow and soothing. He's pale, sweat at his temple, eyes wild and far away.

He's not here.

He's somewhere else. Somewhere cold.

Sebastian steps in then, voice perfectly calm. "Young master, you've forgotten your long-awaited new cane."

A lifeline. A distraction. An exit.

I shift slightly, giving my brother space to breathe.

My eyes flicker to the broken ring on the floor. Something stirs inside me.

A memory.

0o0o0o0o

I'm younger—sitting cross-legged on the study floor, surrounded by a halo of crayons. I'm working on a drawing I don't want anyone to see yet. Vincent sits nearby, writing something at his desk, half-turned toward the window, bathed in slanted afternoon light.

I'm sketching him. Him and Rachel. She's glowing in the picture—wearing a pale blue dress, hands resting on her rounded stomach.

I'm proud of the sketch…except I can't get the ring right. That deep blue gem—I can't remember the shape or the setting. Just that it was important.

Frustrated, I stand up and march over.

"Vincent," I say, holding out my hand. "Can I see your ring?"

He looks up with a mild blink. "My ring?"

"For my drawing."

He raises a brow, then chuckles. "Only if I get to see your art first."

I pout, but hand it over. He studies it for a beat, and then smiles—slow, impressed.

"I've never seen this style before." he hums.

"It's from Japan," I mumble. "Now, the ring!"

With a laugh, he slips it off. "Be careful with it—it's a relic."

It's heavy in my palm. Cool. Sparkling. Almost alive.

"Is it a family heirloom?"

"Yes. That gem is a blue diamond."

I squint at it, turning it in the light. "It looks like the sea…like you could fall in."

He smirks—soft but dark, like my words touched something old. "Only the head of the Phantomhive family wears it."

0o0o0o0o

Back in the present, Ciel kneels silently and begins gathering the shards of the broken ring with trembling hands. I watch, unmoving.

He walks to the open window.

"Ciel?!" Elizabeth gasps.

Without answering, he tosses the fragments out into the night air. They scatter like dust.

"I don't care," he says flatly. "It's just an old ring."

I narrow my eyes. Lie. That ring meant everything.

"This ring is proof," he murmurs, voice low and steady, "that the head of the Phantomhive family is 'Ciel Phantomhive.'"

He brushes his palms together, slow and deliberate. Elizabeth is crying now, shoulders shaking.

"What's with that face?" he says, eyes on her.

"B-But…"

"That's a terrible face. And you call yourself a lady." Gently, he pulls a handkerchief from his coat and dabs at her tears. "I wouldn't want to invite a lady with a face like that to a dance, would I?"

He straightens and offers her his hand.

"Let's forget those bad things and dance until dawn, with proper party etiquette. M'lady?"

Elizabeth stares at him, stunned and starry-eyed. Then she takes his hand.

I finally exhale. The tension in the room softens, breath by breath.

The servants begin to dance, laughter rising in the air. Sebastian starts to play the violin—sweet, somber, graceful. I hum along quietly, letting the music settle into my bones like warmth seeping into chilled skin.

The song ends, but I stay where I am. Still. Content.

Then Ciel walks up to me.

He's blushing. Just slightly. He pauses, awkward, then reaches out his hand.

"Sis…would you give me the honor of a dance?"

I blink at him, stunned. Then I smile—bright and real.

"Don't mind if I do."

His smile is small—but honest. I take his hand.

We dance. Or, well...we try. I end up leading. We spin in clumsy little circles, laughing under our breath, spinning without rhythm or skill.

Then he trips, stumbles—and crashes right into me.

His face flames scarlet. Before I can say anything, he bolts across the room like the floor's on fire.

I burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up light and easy. My chest feels warm.

I glance up at the chandelier, haloed in golden light, and hold the moment close.

Vincent…I don't know where this life is going…but I think we'll be okay.

I look around the ballroom. The servants are dancing. Elizabeth is feeding Fenian cake. And Sebastian stands in the background—silent, still, a black pillar of vaguely disapproving doom.

Right?

Chapter Text

Today's a bit special—several guests are visiting the manor. I'm on my way down to the game room to greet them. They've been here a while already, but I accidentally fell asleep in the bathtub while bathing (whoops), which made me late. In a bit of a hurry, I pace quickly toward the room—only to nearly trip over something in the hall.

I blink, staring down at a rat trap sitting square in my path. What the…?

Looking up, I see the whole hallway littered with them. I sweatdrop, genuinely confused.

Who even put these here? And why so many?

The servants come barreling into view. I step carefully around the traps and call out, "Mey-Rin, why are these traps here?"

"For the rats, Miss Rina, yes!" she replies cheerfully with a grin.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You really don't need this many."

"What are all of you doing?" a deep and sharp voice cuts in behind me.

I nearly jump out of my skin. Sebastian appears like a damn ghost. I press a hand to my chest, willing my heart to calm down.

"'What? You say...we've decided to capture the rats!" Bard announces.

I glance over—and yep. I'm pretty sure I just saw Finny in a cat costume. Is that even useful in this circumstance?

"Aha...and that is...?" Sebastian trails off, watching them with visible disdain.

The trio keeps bumbling around, chasing invisible rats. Chaos as usual.

"Young master!" Sebastian suddenly calls out. I turn to see Ciel strolling down the hall, holding a folded piece of paper.

"Tonight, escort Duke Randall by carriage to his mansion. Will you take care of the carriage?" Ciel asks. "Leave tonight's plans open."

"Understood," Sebastian replies, placing a hand over his chest with a smirk. "Then when I finish preparations for the carriage, I will bring some afternoon tea to your room. I have prepared an apple and raisin dip pie for today's snack. I will bring it to you when it's baked, so please wait just a bit."

The servants are still making a racket behind us, and it's driving me insane. Can they not go five minutes without shouting?

But the pie? Sounds amazing.

I skip over to Ciel with a grin. "Let's hang out today."

He sweat drops, giving me a wry smile. "You just want my snack."

I pout. "No, I just want to spend some quality time with you, that's all."

He gives me a knowing look. "Right. But no, I want some alone time. Our guests earlier gave me a bit of a headache."

I sigh, dramatically defeated. "Fine, go have fun with your paperwork."

He walks off, and I watch him go, sulking a little.

Meanwhile, Sebastian finally seems to hit his limit.

Without warning, he dives to the floor in a fluid flash—holy hell, that arch and stretch?! I stare, wide-eyed. Man's doing some Olympic-level shit and not even breaking a sweat.

He snaps upright with several squirming rats gripped in one gloved hand. My stomach flips.

"Now, please do your work without playing around. We will be having guests tonight." he says firmly to the idiot trio.

"Ugh, get rid of those," I gag, backing away. "I may have vaccines, but I'm not invincible."

Sebastian raises a brow at that, then tosses the rats into a net that Tanaka suddenly appears holding—How long has he been standing there?

The trio collapses in defeat, groaning.

I smirk, watching Sebastian with a mix of awe and horror. Say what you want—he really is one hell of a capable man.

0-0-0-0-0-0

I head to the library to study for a bit, but eventually I'm bored out of my skull. Sliding the last book back onto the shelf, I leave with a small yawn; my brain is toast. These old-ass books might be considered new here, but in two hundred years? Total relics. Not that I mind, I do love my books.

As I make my way toward my bedroom, I spot Mey-Rin darting down the hallway. She slows when she sees me.

"Miss Rina!" she calls.

"What's up?" I ask, eyeing the letter clutched in her hand. "Why are you running?"

She holds it out. "This just came in! I was on my way to deliver it to Mr. Sebastian, yes!"

I take it with a nod. "I'll give it to him. Go finish your chores before you get scolded."

She hurries off. I flip the letter over. "To Sir Ciel Phantomhive and Valet…" I murmur, brows pinching together.

Humming, I head toward Ciel's study. Probably something important. As I round the corner, I spot Sebastian standing by the study door with a tray in hand. Today's snack, I presume. I tilt my head, a little confused.

"Sebastian!" I call, waving the letter. "A letter just came in."

He glances over, calm as ever. "Who is it addressed to?"

"To you and my broth—" My sentence cuts off as I trip over the carpet like a damn fool. My feet tangle, and I lurch forward.

He catches me just in time.

Everything slows. I crash into his chest—and then, the window above us shatters. Glass rains down in a glittering storm. A few shards catch in my hair as I land on top of him, stunned.

He's oddly calm beneath me.

We stare at each other—no emotion, just this weird shared beat of stillness. I register how close we are. Straddling his lap, pressed against him. As he slowly sits up, the spell breaks. The pie clinks softly onto the tray beside us.

I'm still clutching the letter like it's holy scripture.

"Oh dear," he mutters blankly. "My Lady, is that letter—?"

I blink, then turn scarlet, only now processing our position. I've never been this close to a man before. With shaky fingers, I open the envelope and hand him the paper, trying very hard to ignore how absurdly built he is.

Stop it. Dirty thoughts, go away. Those books are melting your brain.

He reads silently, then sighs. "What an undignified invitation…"

I frown. "What is it?" I try to peek, but he shields it from me.

I'm still on his lap and…why hasn't he shoved me off yet? He usually hates it when I touch him. He's fine with literally everyone else except me.

Blushing harder, I start to sit up—but then he smirks.

"Why, Rina, if you wanted to touch me that bad, you could've just said so."

My ears catch fire. Oh, so that's the game we're playing now?

I gather every ounce of petty boldness I've learned from romance novels and TV shows. "Oho~ But Sebastian, I believe it was you who grabbed me first." I shoot back with a smirk, red as hell.

His grin deepens. Something flickers behind his eyes.

"I couldn't help it under your gaze, my lady." he says, voice smooth and low.

Okay. Never mind. I shouldn't play with fire.

I jolt upright the second Bard comes barreling toward us.

"What the hell happened?!" he shouts.

Finnian stumbles in behind, panting. "Are you guys alright?!"

Sebastian, smug bastard that he is, casually stands beside me and pulls me against his chest. "Oh, it was nothing much."

I glare at his vest, steaming. I want to kill him. Can he die? No? Then I'll just die instead.

He lets go all innocent-like, and I immediately step back. Emotionally and physically violated—thanks, Sebastian.

"My apologies, everyone, but can I entrust the cleaning and supper preparations to you?" he asks, still holding the goddamn pie.

"That's fine, but…" Bard looks dazed.

"I have a bit of minor business to take care of. After you finish, clean this too, please." He hands Bard the tray and adds, "I shall return before dinner time."

My frown deepens. Where's Ciel? That explosion was right outside his study. I turn to ask—but Sebastian's already gone.

My stomach knots. Bard glances around too, clearly confused by his disappearance.

My feet move before I can stop them. I sprint to the study and nearly rip the door off its hinges. No Ciel. Just scattered papers and wide-open windows.

That asshole. He distracted me on purpose. Didn't want me to know Ciel was taken. Again.

I clench my fists, rage boiling in my throat.

Like hell I'm sitting here waiting. Not this time.

I run through the halls until I find Mey-Rin sweeping up glass.

"Mey-Rin! Do you remember the address on that letter?" I demand, breath sharp.

She blinks, concerned. "Why, yes. Why?"

"Tell me about it. Now."

She rattles it off, and my heart sinks. London. Shit.

There's no way I'll make it in time—if he's even still alive. I bolt to my room, slam the door, and start pacing like a madwoman, gnawing a fingernail raw.

He could already be dead.

Or not. Maybe he's fine. But what if Sebastian dies getting him back? What if neither of them come back?

My throat clenches. Tears sting the edges of my vision. My brother. Sebastian. Both of them…

I sit. Wait. That's all I can do. But waiting feels like drowning. It's too much like last time—the twins, the panic, the helplessness. My stomach twists like rope. My head spins with flashing images and ugly memories.

I curl a hand over my mouth to muffle a sob.

The tears fall anyway.

If they don't come back…what then?

I don't want to sit with the what ifs. I'm already afraid of what would happen.

Please. Please let Sebastian save him. Let them both come back in one piece. I can't get to London fast enough, and Tanaka's not exactly coach-ready. I don't even know how to ride a damn horse.

God, why don't we have a car yet? I've seen cars in London!

How's Sebastian getting there, anyway? Not important. Doesn't matter.

Just bring him back.

Please.

I collapse onto the bed, pull a pillow to my chest, and bury my face into it.

I'm terrified. I'm furious.

I'm holding on by a thread.

And I don't think I can survive losing him again.

0o0o0o0o

After a couple hours of stewing in my thoughts, I finally head to the kitchen to start dinner. If Sebastian makes it home with Ciel, they'll both be exhausted. And as pissed as I still am at him, I want to do something for him anyway. Call it stupid, but it just feels right.

I can't cook worth a damn, but I can make a pan-fried hamburger—an American twenty-first century classic. Not that anyone here knows what that is yet. Heh. They'll get a taste tonight.

If only I knew how to make fries.

A burger without fries is just depressing.

Smoke curls from the pan, so I crack open the backyard door to air it out. The patties sizzle, and I toss on some cheese. Sebastian said they'd be back around now…I think?

The meat finishes quickly. I turn the stove to low, wipe my hands on my apron, and peel it off with a satisfied grin. I haven't cooked in forever. It feels…good. The manor's past chefs taught me some basics, though I still suck at most of them. But burgers?

I can mold, spice, and sear meat no problem.

It's nothing compared to Sebastian's meals—his are practically sinful—but this'll do.

I head to the front foyer and step outside, where the servants are waiting—anxious.

"Mr. Sebastian is late, yes he is…" Mey-Rin says aloud.

"I know right~? Usually he hurries for dinner time." Finnian adds with a nod.

I frown. They're right. Something feels off.

Then Finny gasps. I whip my head toward where he's staring.

A silhouette approaches—Sebastian. He's carrying Ciel in his arms.

My breath catches.

His usual smile is in place, calm and controlled, but my body locks up, seized by a wave of pure relief.

"Mr. Sebastian! Welcome back!" Mey-Rin chirps.

I say nothing. Just stare.

My chest is too full to speak.

"We've returned." Sebastian announces smoothly.

Ciel's frowning, arms limp in the butler's hold.

I step closer, heart in my throat. Ciel looks roughed up—bruised, battered, barely responsive. Sebastian's coat is riddled with bullet holes, but not a single scratch marks his skin.

How is that even possible?

The servants crowd around, peppering them with questions, fussing.

Sebastian deflects easily. "We just tripped while we were out."

I scowl. Tripped? Seriously?

I march straight up to them.

Ciel spots me first, eyes flickering with guilt before he looks away.

That makes it worse.

"You are both idiots!" I shout, voice cracking. Tears prick my eyes before I can stop them.

Sebastian blinks.

Ciel still won't meet my gaze.

A choked sob escapes—and that finally gets his attention. His eyes widen when he sees my face, already red and watery.

I lunge forward and try to wrap them both in a hug. It's awkward—Sebastian's ridiculously tall, and Ciel's still being held like a fragile doll—but I don't care.

"I-I'm so happy that the b-both of you are alright." I sob, hiccuping.

Ciel pats my back awkwardly. I pull away, sniffling uncontrollably.

I can't stop crying—not when I was that scared.

Sebastian just stares, like he doesn't know what to do with me. He looks...thrown. He really thought I'd be fine with being lied to?

Then Finny, of course, pipes up with something ridiculous.

"That big hug is like 'upsy daisy.' Looks fun~!" he giggles, pointing to Sebastian still holding Ciel.

I almost laugh. Almost.

Ciel looks absolutely mortified.

"Of course it's not fun!" Ciel snaps, face burning. "Put me down, Sebastian!"

He smacks Finny three times in rapid succession, leaving three fat lumps on the poor guy's head.

I'd laugh—really—but I'm still too angry.

Sebastian finally sets Ciel down, then kneels before him on one knee.

"Please forgive my behavior. I have made a grave error as the Phantomhive's butler. How might I ever compensate for it?"

We all blink at him. He's far too calm.

"Today's supper preparations have been left entirely unfinished."

I smirk and step forward as he stands. "Don't worry about that. I made everyone dinner while you were gone."

His eyes widen. Then he frowns. "My lady, it is not your place to prepare meals."

…Really?

My eye twitches. That's what he says?

No thank you, no acknowledgment—just a lecture?

Rage bubbles up, fast and hot. My hand clenches at my side.

Oh no. Oh hell no. I take back what I said at the ball. I will take my anger out on him. This is all his fault.

He lied to me—and he's ungrateful?

My hand flies up before I think.

Smack.

A sharp, clean slap across his face.

I'm stunned he let me hit him. He's dodged worse. But judging from the way he stills, it's the fact that I slapped him, not the force, that stuns him.

"R-Rina?!" Ciel sputters, staring at my hand in horror.

A red mark blooms across Sebastian's cheek. I pant, shaking with fury.

"That is for being a deceitful and disrespectful asshole!"

The air shifts—grows heavy. Oppressive.

Sebastian turns his head back toward me slowly, that fake smile plastered on like a cracked mask.

He's furious. I feel it in the air.

But I don't care.

"My lady, I apologize for any offense I made against you." he says, stiff and tight, bowing slightly.

It's hollow. A performance.

"Fine." I snap. I don't mean it either.

The servants begin to shuffle back inside, nervous. Ciel and Sebastian move to follow—but I'm not done.

"Wait."

They pause. I square my shoulders.

"I'm not finished with this conversation."

Ciel sighs, frowning. "Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"I will be heard," I say sharply. "And I would appreciate it if you would both listen seriously."

Ciel crosses his arms, reluctant. "Fine. Go on."

"I know you both deal with things you think I shouldn't be involved in. And while I hate it, I know you're trying to protect me." Ciel's arms drop slightly. Sebastian watches me like he's looking through fog. "But if my brother gets kidnapped, I deserve to know. I am not an obstacle to be ignored."

My gaze locks on Sebastian.

He glares. So do I.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" My hand clenches the fabric of my dress. "Not just for you, Ciel. But for you too, Sebastian."

His eyes widen faintly.

I push on, needing to say it.

"You two…you're all I have now. You and the servants. Please. Don't treat me like I'm just some nuisance."

Ciel frowns. He steps forward, taking my hand.

"I'm sorry. I've been treating you unfairly. And I'm sorry for making you worry. I'll try not to disappear again."

I smile gently, squeezing his hand.

Sebastian steps forward next. His expression's softened—slightly. Less furious, more resigned.

"I will not apologize, as you would have reacted the same either way."

Oh, hell no.

I grab his tie and yank him down to eye level. His eyes go wide again.

"You may not care for me, Sebastian. But I care for you. Whether you like it or not. And I will be considered in matters like this, do you understand me?"

He stares, stunned.

Then, slowly, he smiles. Deep. Unreadable.

"…Yes, my lady."

0o0o0o0o

In the middle of the night, I jolt awake with a gasp.

That cloaked man in black again—the one from my dreams. He always creeps in when I least expect it. My chest rises and falls like I've been running. Heart pounding until it aches.

I only remember scraps of the dream, but it's enough.

I shove off the covers and head for the bathroom, trying to shake the feeling that someone's still watching me.

It's always the eyes that haunt me. Beautiful, sure, but drowning. They strip me bare—no secrets, no defenses.

Just my raw, cracked soul staring back at him.

And he likes that. I know he does.

The oil lamp flickers to life as I step inside. I don't look in the mirror yet. The sink creaks under my hand, and I splash cold water on my face, trying to douse the heat crawling under my skin. I'm still panting. Not sure if it's fear or the lingering pressure from those eyes. That grin—those long, sharp nails brushing my cheek…

I shudder.

It felt real. Too real.

I risk a glance at the mirror—

No.

No, no, no.

For a second, I swear my eyes…they're like his. Same color. Same twisted design.

A scream rips out of me before I can stop it, and my fist goes straight into the mirror.

Shatter.

Glass slices across my knuckles, crashing to the floor in glittering pieces.

Blood wells fast—but I barely feel it.

I press both hands to my face, smearing wetness across my skin. I don't even know if it's blood or water anymore.

Was he in me? Did I really see that—or am I losing it?

The door slams open.

I spin.

Sebastian stands in the doorway, eyes scanning the scene—then settling on the mirror shards and my bleeding hand.

"My lady, what happened?" he asks, blunt and sharp.

I look away, afraid. What if my eyes are still—

"Are my eyes the same?" I whisper, voice shaking.

He steps closer, brows furrowing as he peers at me.

"Huh? You are the same, my lady."

Relief crashes over me. I sag slightly.

"So, it was a hallucination..." I mutter.

"What is?"

I shake my head. "It's nothing. I had a strange dream, that's all."

He seems to accept that—until his eyes narrow at my hand.

"My lady! Your hand is bleeding."

I let out a sheepish laugh. "Whoops. It'll be okay."

He sighs and turns to go. "I shall fetch a first aid kit. Please settle down before I return."

He disappears into the shadows, the door clicking shut behind him.

I stare at the shattered glass scattered across the floor.

Blood drips steadily from my hand, tapping softly against the tile. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the shards—blood streaked across my cheek and around one eye.

But when I blink again…both eyes are normal.

Thank god.

Taking his advice, I rinse my hand in cold water. It stings—but the sting grounds me. Reminds me I'm real. Awake.

Once clean, I splash my face again and dry off with a towel.

I leave the glass for tomorrow.

Back in the bedroom, I sit on the edge of the bed and switch on the oil lamp. Warm flickering light fills the room. My hand aches—starts bleeding again. I cradle it with a hiss.

There's a knock.

Sebastian enters, silent as ever, medkit in hand.

He kneels in front of me and opens it. I watch him pull out bandages. No disinfectant—right, not invented yet. But he has honey.

He reaches for my hand, and I let him. He's surprisingly gentle. The care in his touch throws me off. I smile faintly.

"I'm sorry," I murmur. He doesn't look up. "For waking you. And for earlier."

He sighs, voice low but steady. "Do not pay much mind to it, my lady. I was merely passing by when I heard your scream."

I hum skeptically, but let it go. "So, what? Are you my knight in shining armor?" I tease.

He smirks—and presses just a little too hard on a cut. I wince.

"I could never hold such a noble title."

I eye him. "You remind me of him."

His brow lifts. "I beg your pardon?"

I tilt my head, thinking of the dream. The cloaked man's grin, the nails. "Something that haunts me. You act similarly, if I think about it."

His brow climbs higher. "Is it bad or good?"

A small smirk curves my lips as he finishes wrapping my hand.

"Both."

Chapter Text

A butler's morning starts early. And in the evening, no one's job ends later. The mansion itself is defined by a butler's service.

Sebastian tugs on his hair, eyes fixed on the mirror.

"My hair has grown quite a bit," he notes. "...Ah, in these circumstances, I mustn't shorten it."

He brushes the strands behind his ear, then shrugs on his tailcoat with a faint frown.

"Humans are such difficult creatures."

With mechanical precision, he smooths his gloves over his fingers.

"All right. Time to go."

First task: the daily itinerary.

He makes his way to the kitchen, where the servants slump half-awake around the table.

"Good morning, everyone," he greets, gaze sweeping over them. "It's about time to start work."

He begins issuing assignments.

"Mey-Rin is in charge of the linens. Finny, prune the trees in the garden. Bard's job is to prepare lunch, please."

They don't move. His eyes narrow. A sharp clap cuts the air.

"If you understand, then get to your jobs already!"

They scramble to obey.

"...And do them correctly!"

Satisfied, he turns away. With the staff in motion, he advances to the next task: waking the young master—and his lady.

He loads a cart with a tray of teacups and other materials, wheels it to the master bedroom, and knocks. "Pardon the intrusion," he calls, pushing open the door.

"Good morning, young master. It's time to wake up."

He strides across the room and flings open the curtains. Sunlight spills across the bedding like a slow tide.

"It's nice weather today."

A low groan answers him. Ciel rubs his eyes, unimpressed.

Earl Ciel Phantomhive, head of the family at twelve years old, governs an empire of legacy and expectation. As president of the Funtom Company, he's expanded the business through cunning strategy, launching several branches at once.

Sebastian pours the tea. Its warm scent fills the room.

"Is it Assam today?" Ciel asks through a yawn.

"You are very adept, young master," Sebastian replies with a smile, offering the cup. "I heard that in Assam quality tea leaves were made, so I ordered some locally."

He hands over the newspaper. Ciel flips through it absently, sipping. "By the way, the kids from Count Barton's orphanage have been invited here."

Sebastian places a hand over his chest. "That is a good idea. When will it happen, then?"

"Tomorrow."

The word slams into him—but outwardly, he remains still. This brat—correction—young master…Does he think everything will just arrange itself if left to me? Such careless treatment of one's workers...how rude.

"Understood." he says smoothly, bowing his head.

"No matter what type of guests," he continues, "the Phantomhive reputation will perish if we don't show the best hospitality."

Ciel hands back the cup. Sebastian returns it to the cart. "That's right...The Herend's Chinoiserie tea set I ordered the other day has arrived."

As Ciel rises, Sebastian selects an outfit from the closet and lays it neatly on the bed.

While dressing the boy, he continues the day's plans.

"So, today's afternoon snack will be with Keemun tea. And since it has berries in it as well, what do you say to currant and berry summer pudding? Would you like some?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Make sure to put some raspberries in it. Rina likes those, I believe."

A faint smile curls at Sebastian's mouth. "Understood."

He adjusts the bow at Ciel's collar and steps back, satisfied.

"Well then, I shall begin to wake my lady and start preparations for tomorrow immediately afterward."

Ciel hums.

Sebastian bows and exits, cart in hand.

So many tasks to finish in just one day…Honestly, if he wishes for me to behave like a human, perhaps he should assign tasks at a human pace. As a demon, I can oblige. As a human, he'd get half this work done—if that.

He stops outside Rina's door and knocks softly.

"Pardon the intrusion," he murmurs, entering.

The room is dim—just as she prefers. Thick curtains blot out all sunlight. On the bed, Rina lies curled on her side, tangled in cotton sheets. Her breathing is deep and steady, punctuated by the faintest snore.

One arm is flung above her head, the other tucked under her pillow.

A book lies open on the floor. Likely fell from her hand as she drifted off. He picks it up and places it gently on the nightstand.

Her hair—soft brown curls—spills in messy waves across the pillow. Some cling to her cheek, others fall across her shoulder like ivy.

He lingers, watching her.

This girl puzzles me more than any human I've met. Most fear me instinctively—demon presence does that. Or they lust after my form. She…does neither.

She claims to care for him. But if she truly saw him—saw what lay beneath the illusion—would she run? Would she break?

Expression unchanged, he turns and yanks the curtains open.

Light crashes into the room, flooding it with warmth and dust. She groans and buries her face deeper into the pillow like the sun personally offended her.

Of course.

He smirks faintly. Amused.

She is...an oddity. When she first arrived, her presence irritated him—just one more obstacle in an already complicated game. That hasn't exactly changed.

But now...he doesn't mind her quite so much.

She treats him with a coarse sort of kindness—irreverent, teasing, unpredictable. He retaliates in kind, naturally, offering provocations tailored to annoy. He delights in drawing reactions from her that no other human would dare show him.

And despite every attempt to keep her at a distance, she won the quiet war of companionship she insisted on waging.

He allows it now. It's simpler. Less effort.

And, if he's honest, more...entertaining.

A small indulgence. A valve for the pressure.

On days when the master's moods—or the servants' idiocy—test his patience, she offers reprieve. Though, to be fair, she's just as capable of driving him mad.

Like the time she talked down to him. Or slapped him. Slapped. A demon. One she wasn't even contracted to. Were the others to learn of that humiliation, he'd be mocked for a century.

At the time, he nearly tore her apart.

And yet…it was what followed—her trembling voice, raw and unguarded—that stayed his hand.

He's thought about that moment more than he'd care to admit.

Just who is she?

And then, her soul. Or the lack of one.

He's never seen anything like it. As a high-ranking demon, souls are as legible to him as expressions. But hers remains unreadable. Veiled. Empty.

Not the first time he's caught shadowed thoughts from her. But that blankness—pure and hollow, like a newborn—is far more troubling.

That should not be possible.

Even now, when he peers down at her through his true eyes, there is nothing. No color. No texture. No shape.

She is a mystery. And that makes her all the more fascinating.

Suppressing the stirrings of his true nature, he leans forward.

"My lady, it is time to awaken."

She grumbles something unintelligible. His brow twitches in silent annoyance. Waking her is always a chore.

And today, of all days, he has no time to waste.

Without hesitation, he reaches beneath her and yanks the pillow out from under her head.

She drops with a thump, face smooshed awkwardly against the mattress. A muffled grunt escapes her as she sluggishly turns.

Her glare is nuclear.

He greets it with one of his smooth, signature smiles.

"It is morning." he announces.

Rina squints at him, flatly exhausted. "No shit, I couldn't tell by the light that pools into the room." she mutters dryly.

His smile holds, though her words needle him.

"It seems your eyes are working then." he answers, matching her tone.

She drags herself upright, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, and curls on her knees. A yawn stretches her jaw wide as she watches him pour tea into a delicate cup.

"What time is it?" she mumbles.

He offers her the tea. She takes it gratefully. Flipping open his pocket watch with practiced ease, he answers, "It is six forty-one."

Her face pinches.

"So, I got five hours of sleep?" she groans.

He arches a brow. "Oh, dear. Was your novel to your liking?" he asks, a wry curve tugging at his mouth.

She hums in affirmation, a small smile peeking through. "I only got halfway through before I passed out. It reminded me of a book from home."

A quiet chuckle escapes him. Of course. This human is forever buried in books.

She sips her tea, and color returns to her cheeks from the warmth. It revives her quickly. When she finishes, she sets the cup on the cart—deliberately ignoring the hand he offers to take it.

His nostrils flare.

Still, a glint of amusement lights his eyes.

"Does my lady need help getting ready for the day?"

She stretches with a groan, arms raised overhead. "You already know that answer."

He bows with elaborate grace, hand to chest. "Then I shall take my leave. The young master has informed me that Count Barren's orphanage will be here tomorrow. Please act accordingly."

At that, she brightens instantly. Her fatigue vanishes, replaced by delight.

"Really?! I can't wait!" she beams.

He eyes her impassively, saying nothing.

With a final push, he wheels the cart from the room.

Now then...here begins the truly difficult part of my morning.

The moment he steps into the kitchen, he removes his tailcoat and dons a fresh pair of gloves, clapping them once as he exhales.

"Well then, shall we begin..." he mutters.

He minces the couverture—dark and milk—into fine shavings. When the cream reaches a boil, he stirs it in, keeping the temperature precise. Once cooled, he adds cointreau and pours the mixture into a mold—

A scream pierces the air.

He stills, eyes narrowing. Another interruption.

"What was that?" he mutters, striding toward the sound. He reaches the laundry room and cracks the door.

Bubbles. An unreasonable amount of bubbles. And in the middle of them: a flailing maid.

"Mey-Rin? What on Earth is the matter—"

"Sebastian!" she shrieks upon spotting him.

He winces. The noise is bad. The sight is worse.

"What's with all these bubbles?!" he snaps.

Panic-stricken, she thrusts out a detergent box. "The detergent...according to the instruction manual," she babbles, "I'm supposed to put in thirty cups! It's so weird that this happened!"

He snatches the box and reads the label.

"Mey-Rin, this doesn't say thirty cups. It says three cups."

"Eh?!"

She freezes in horror.

Apologies pour from her mouth. This idiot—maid. Her vision is atrocious, but even so—how did she not question such a number? Society supposedly finds clumsy maids charming. He does not.

In fact, it reminds him of what murderous rage feels like.

"Hah...Understood. For now, just step back."

He grabs a mop and bucket. In moments, the floor is spotless. He wrings out the laundry and rushes it outside to dry. Mey-Rin stares in awe as he passes.

"I still have work. If you'll excuse me, return to yours." he says curtly, already moving.

Reentering the manor, he mutters, "Really now...it had to happen today."

Back in the kitchen, he resumes with far less enthusiasm. Pulls out a frying pan. Continues the steps.

Water. Butter. Simmer. Turn off heat. Add flour, baking powder. Stir—

Boom.

Another scream.

He slams the spatula down.

"What is it now?!"

Storming into the oven room, he finds soot and smoke—and Rina, coughing violently just outside the blast radius.

He raises a brow. She rarely causes this kind of chaos.

"Bard?!" she shrieks, eyes wild. "Are you crazy?!"

Ah. That explains it.

Sebastian steps beside her and peers into the haze.

Bard is sprawled on the floor, grenade launcher still smoking in one hand, hair puffed like a scorched lion, every inch of him streaked in black soot.

Of course.

"Yo! I sent for a new weapon from my home country, but...I can't use little stuff like this!" Baldroy calls out, dazed and oddly cheerful.

Rina groans, pinching the bridge of her nose as another coughing fit overtakes her. Ash coats her sleeves. Her dress is ruined.

The smell of gunpowder clings to the air like regret.

Sebastian slouches, the weariness radiating from every inch of him palpable.

"First off, is that even a cooking utensil? You don't need that sort of firepower to cook lamb with lavender." he says, barely restraining his irritation.

"Don't say things like that!" Baldroy snaps, brushing soot from his coat with indignation.

"We wouldn't have to if you used your brains for once!" Rina fires back, scowling. The last thing she wants is another bath.

For once, Sebastian silently agrees with her.

"Cooking is an art! And art means explosions!" Baldroy insists, flailing with all the fervor of a man defending a sacred philosophy.

Sebastian and Rina exchange a long, unimpressed glance.

This idi—chef. Sebastian's heard this culinary manifesto too many times. In Baldroy's hands, 'art' always ends in charcoal.

He should've been charcoal himself by now.

Sebastian exhales through his nose. "There's nothing for it. The ground meat and vegetables are both safe, so let's use those." His voice is neutral. His patience is not.

He pulls the ingredients from the cooler and resumes the meal with practiced grace.

"I'm going to go draw another bath." Rina mutters, turning on her heel, her footsteps squishing faintly in damp fabric as she leaves him to it.

Sebastian finishes the entire meal in under five minutes. Baldroy watches from behind, slack-jawed.

"You should be fine for now. I'll leave the clean-up to you." Sebastian says without looking up, already halfway out the door.

His irritation builds with every step back toward the hallway.

"Really now! I've barely made any progress on my work!" he thunders, throwing open the kitchen doors with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Back at his station, he snatches up a sack of sugar and scans the instructions one final time. Brown sugar, spread evenly across the top board. Bake at one hundred and thirty degrees.

Precision. Focus.

He is the embodiment of both—until he's not.

He doesn't hear Finnian sneak up behind him.

But he feels it. The sudden, bone-crushing hug from behind jostles the sugar from his grip. A cascade of granules tumble to the floor.

"So, it's you this time." Sebastian mutters, voice flat.

Finnian bursts into sobs, big, sloppy tears rolling down his cheeks as he clings tighter. "Mr. Sebastian!" he wails.

Sebastian remains perfectly still, expression unreadable, arms limp at his sides. Not moved. Not impressed.

"You aren't a baby. I can't understand you if you just cry. What's wrong?" he asks, voice like cold stone.

Finnian doesn't answer. He grabs Sebastian's hand and tugs him toward the backyard with desperate energy.

Sebastian follows. Reluctantly.

The moment the door opens, a sharp wind bites his face. Outside, the garden is…wrong. Leaves stripped. Soil gray. Life itself seems to have fled the scene.

He halts. Stares.

"I thought you were going to trim the branches but..." he trails off, surveying the destruction. "And the lawn…"

"I'm sorry!" Finnian cries, bowing deeply. "Because it happened a while ago, I forgot the herbicide sprinkler was broken!"

This...this idiot.

Sebastian's last thread of patience snaps cleanly in two. He doesn't say anything—just fumes.

You can hand scissors to two idiots, but you can't hand them to one.

And "a while ago" likely means two or three days. That level of forgetfulness borders on medical.

His brain might be a sponge soaked in fertilizer.

A long, pained sigh escapes Sebastian. He pulls a pouch from his tailcoat and tosses it into Finnian's hands.

"If you've already gone this far, there's nothing else to be done. Go to the gardening store and buy some trees."

Finnian clutches the pouch like it's gold. "What kind of trees should I buy?"

"You're the gardener. The garden's design is your job. Buy what you think is good."

Like flipping a switch, Finnian's tears vanish. His eyes shine with renewed joy.

"Then...Then...I'll make a cool garden that looks like a transforming robot!"

Sebastian stares. Of all the strange things he's witnessed across centuries, this—this sparkling, babbling boy—is the closest thing to alien life.

Silence. Not even the wind dares interrupt it.

"Mr. Sebastian?" Finny tilts his head, confused by the dazed expression. He blushes, flustered. "The young master will get mad, so hurry up and give me the money, please! Really now, spacing out is a no-no!"

Sebastian silently hands over the pouch.

Finnian spins away in giddy delight, skipping down the path.

A single strand of Sebastian's hair floats gently to the ground behind him.

He's reached his limit.

At times like this…he just wants to see her.

Without hesitation, Sebastian strides through the manor. His steps quicken. He longs for something soft. Something still. Something warm.

He slips out a side door into the sun-dappled lawn. And there—in a patch of light—waits a single black cat.

She meows sweetly.

Peace returns to him in an instant.

He kneels and offers a treat from his pocket. "Hey now, you don't have to hurry. There's still plenty more."

Cats, he thinks, are divine. They don't cry. They don't destroy gardens. They don't hallucinate robot topiaries or throw live grenades during food prep.

In his realm, pets exist too—but the memory is less "feline" and more alien slime-beast with too many teeth.

He lifts her gently, brushes his face against soft fur, and presses a paw between his fingers. "Aah, your paws are soft...I could do this forever." he murmurs.

She meows again.

He sets her down with reverent care. "However, I must be going now. Wait for me tomorrow." he says, rising.

He returns to the manor—bracing for whatever chaos comes next.

0o0o0o0o

"I was interrupted plenty of times, but I finally got it done," Sebastian sighs, swiping at his forehead in mock exhaustion.

Heavy footsteps thunder toward him. He glances toward the door.

The trio bursts in—disheveled and breathless.

"Mr. Sebastian!" they shout in unison.

"Yes? What is it now?" he asks flatly.

They freeze.

Centered on the table stands a towering chocolate statue: a man on horseback, framed by delicate miniatures of London architecture. Nearby tables overflow with ornate cakes and sweets.

Sebastian, meticulously carving the final detail on Big Ben, doesn't look up.

"Amazing!" Finnian gasps.

"You were going to leave all the work to us and do this, huh?" Bard snorts.

Sebastian levels him with a cold stare.

"Is this all made of sweets, is it?" Mey-Rin whispers, wide-eyed.

Sebastian finally answers. "The children have been invited to come over tomorrow. This is for them."

Bard crosses his arms. "Something for kids took you a long time."

"That's our Mr. Sebastian! Way to go!" Mey-Rin and Finnian cheer, clapping.

Finnian steps closer, squinting. "But...what exactly is this statue of?"

Sebastian joins him. "'What,' you say? It's that rowdy character you like, the Count—"

He stops.

His eyes widen.

The figure is headless.

"The head of the Count I so meticulously molded is..." he whispers. His hands twitch.

Slowly, his eyes rise to the trio. His glare could kill.

"Hey now, we've all been doing our work up until now, you know?!" Bard protests.

"T-That's right, it is! It's impossible for us to be the thieves, it is!" Mey-Rin babbles.

Finnian nods furiously beside her.

"Which means..." Sebastian murmurs, eyes narrowing.

Mr. Tanaka.

They dash off without another word.

Sebastian checks his pocket watch. "Ah! Oh no, it's time for afternoon tea," he mutters, straightening. "I must go prepare. You search for Tanaka with all your strength."

The trio salutes and vanishes. Sebastian turns and speeds downstairs.

The tea set is assembled with flawless efficiency. He stacks the tray on a silver cart and glides down the corridor toward the study.

Only the useless servants cause him anxiety. If that doesn't change soon…

He knocks. "Pardon the intrusion." he calls, pushing the door open—

And stops dead.

Rina and Ciel are fast asleep. Rina slumped over the table. Ciel dozing in his chair. And nestled between them: the missing chocolate head.

Sebastian stares. Completely still. "…Really now, these two…" he exhales, bending forward, defeated.

The window is open behind them. He shuts it with a sigh.

"They even left the window open. Just because I am here, don't leave yourself defenseless."

Useless servants. A demanding master. A woman who defies reason.

Being a butler is not easy.

But...it's not a bad way to live.

He gazes at them, lips quirking.

"Young master, my lady, wake up!" he calls, grabbing both their cheeks and tugging mercilessly. "You mustn't sneak snacks. I've told you that much!"

The siblings groan, sugar-drunk and unrepentant, glaring up at him through a chocolate haze.

Chapter Text

Shoving the cheesy romance novella in my face, I eat up the words the man utters to his ex-lover. Damn. He ended their engagement just because his mother didn't approve of her? That's so beyond bullshit it pisses me off. I slam the book shut with a sharp snap and toss it onto the seat beside me. Ciel watches, a visible sweat drop forming at my reaction.

"Did you not like the book?" he asks.

A faint frown tugs at my lips. "No. Just don't ever fall in love, brother."

He gives me a flat look. "You do realize I'm engaged."

I cross my arms and sniff, half turning away. "Unfortunately," I mutter.

He flushes pink and sputters, "W-What's that supposed to mean?!"

I tilt my head, gaze narrowing, "Exactly how it sounds?" His blush deepens into full crimson and he jerks his head toward the window like he's escaping my words. I sigh and sink further into my seat, staring at the ceiling. "I wonder if I'll ever fall in love," I mumble.

The steady clatter of the carriage wheels hums beneath us as we rattle down the road toward the townhouse. It's currently The Season in London—the time when aristocrats flock to the city for parties, galas, and endless displays of social status.

The air outside is thick with humidity, and I silently curse the fact that I can't wear my godsend invention: shorts and a T-shirt. Instead, I'm stuck in this stupid era-appropriate dress. It's not even heavy, but the warmth clings to me anyway. Good thing I packed my sleepwear.

I smirk to myself just thinking about it.

Ciel suddenly whips around to face me after processing what I said. His expression is stone serious.

"I'll never allow you to get married." he declares, voice firm and low.

I blink, raising a brow. "What? Why not?"

"You don't need to. That's all." His scowl says he's not entertaining debate.

"I'm over the age," I argue, motioning vaguely to my body. "In this era, I'm practically a withered cow for not having children already."

Truth be told, I don't actually want to get married—at least not yet. I'm only twenty-two, but in this century, I may as well be an old maid. The fact I'm still single is...both a blessing and a bit of a curse. I've never even dated.

I want to cry just thinking about it.

"I don't care," he snaps. "You're not going anywhere."

I sputter, flailing slightly in place. "You're being ridiculous! I can't stay by your side forever! Watch—you'll say this now, and when you get older, you'll be like, 'Rina, get out of my sights.'"

"You will stay with me. That's the end of it." He's commanding now.

I gape, not believing a word. "What the hell? What am I supposed to do with you for eighty years? Babysit your kids like I babysat you?!"

He shrugs, face softening. "Doesn't matter to me. As long as you are by my side."

God, I love how much he cares—how deeply attached he is—but what about me? My own hopes? My own future? I want to fall in love. Have a partner. Maybe kids. Be normal.

I can't do that locked away in the manor like some forgotten spinster.

...Unless.

My eyes flick upward, settling on Sebastian's back as he guides the reins. Hmm. I mean...yeah, he's hot. But do I really want to spend my entire life tethered to a sadistic butler with a superiority complex?

…Honestly? The idea is terrifying.

But it might be fun to tease them both just a little.

"You know," I hum, letting mischief drip from my voice, "I think I can stay with you and be married at the same time."

Ciel turns to me sharply, immediately suspicious. "How?"

My eyes flick back to Sebastian. "I can marry Sebastian." I say, letting the words purr from my lips as a wicked smirk spreads across my face.

Ciel freezes in place. His entire body goes still. His face drains of color in an instant.

Sebastian doesn't flinch—still composed in his seat—but I can't see his face at all.

The atmosphere in the carriage turns suffocating.

Ciel leaps up, eyes dark. "Anyone but him." he growls, deadly serious.

I shrink into my seat, hands in the air. "It was a joke! A joke!" I squeak, watching the storm cloud brewing over my brother's head.

He backs off, reluctantly settling back down, but the air is thick with sour tension. I glance at Sebastian again, unsure whether he's ignoring us or planning to say something—

"The idea sounds entertaining." Sebastian comments at last, voice smooth, smug.

I blush instantly.

Ciel jerks upright again, face twisting into fury.

"What did you just say?!" he screeches, practically spitting fire at Sebastian's back.

I bite back a laugh and smirk again. Oh, he was totally messing with Ciel. Of course. Not that Ciel would recognize a joke if it tap danced across his lap. He looks downright murderous.

I think about doubling down, but...yeah, no. Maybe I shouldn't push this.

"Sport, calm down. He is messing with you."

Ciel's glare swivels toward me instead. "This isn't funny in the least. So knock it off."

I snort. "Maybe you're just jealous."

"Hah?! Of what?"

I shrug, all too pleased with myself. I know exactly what he's jealous of—and apparently, pushing my brother's buttons is now my favorite sport.

He keeps glaring daggers while I pick the novella back up with a casual air.

Let him stew.

London's almost in view.

0o0o0o0o

London is so congested, Sebastian can barely maneuver the carriage through the crowded streets. Once we stop in front of the townhouse, he hops down gracefully and opens the door.

"Young master, it's been a while since you last went out, isn't it?"

Ciel stands, brushing at imaginary dust on his jacket. Sebastian helps him down, then offers me his hand. I take it, stepping out onto the sun-warmed pavement, and immediately regret it—it's scorching. The heat clings to me like a second layer of clothing.

Ugh, I'm already sweating.

"I couldn't care less who sent that letter...I hate going to crowded places." Ciel mutters, eyes narrowing at the bustle ahead.

I follow him up the steps, Sebastian at my side. "You're such an introvert." I tease, rolling my eyes, but there's affection behind it.

He doesn't bother to respond. Typical.

Sebastian opens the door, letting us inside. The cool interior air kisses my overheated skin and I sigh in quiet relief.

"But maybe being away from the mansion is okay too. For a change. Isn't it much more peaceful without those four by your side?" Sebastian adds, casually insightful.

I nod, grinning a little. "I don't dare disagree."

Sebastian leads us deeper into the townhouse, guiding us toward one of the sitting rooms. To me, it's the closest thing to a modern living room. But the moment we near the door, I can hear muffled clattering and voices from within.

Uh-oh.

Sebastian opens it—and chaos spills out.

The room looks like a storage closet exploded. Fabric scraps, cushions, and tea boxes litter the floor. Three people are in the middle of the mess.

"Jeez, where did they put the tea leaves in this house?" Madam Red grumbles, bent halfway into a cupboard.

Lau, lounging on the floor with his arm halfway down a vase, sounds equally defeated. "I can't find them either..."

I stare, half-amused and half-dismayed. So much for peace and quiet. Still, I can't help the warm tug in my chest at seeing Aunt Angelina again.

Ciel is not nearly as thrilled. "Madam Red?! Lau?! Why are you here..." he snaps, voice sharp.

Madam Red straightens up, totally unfazed. "Ah, he came back so quickly. Since my cute little nephew and niece are in London, how could I not come and visit you while I'm here?"

I can't help smiling. We've grown close over the years. Her chaotic energy is kind of charming... in small doses.

Lau stands with his ever-calm smile. "Hey Earl. I've heard that many interesting things happen here."

Sebastian bows slightly, a hand to his chest. "We had no idea guests were coming. I apologize for not accommodating. I will go prepare tea for you immediately."

I glance at Ciel, whose brow twitches. He's clearly over it. I swear his tolerance for people is at a permanent zero.

While Sebastian leaves, the rest of us settle into the sofas. I catch up with Madam Red while the others talk idly. She's been attending a whirlwind of balls and still working at the hospital—somehow balancing both worlds with ease.

Sebastian returns far quicker than I expect, a full tray in his hands. He serves Ciel first with elegance, then passes me a tea cup next.

"The aroma is nice. What a unique way of steeping," Madam Red comments as Sebastian hands her and Lau their tea.

"Today's tea is Jackson's 'Earl Grey'," he informs smoothly, his voice velvet.

Madam Red sips carefully, her eyes brightening. "It's the same kind of tea, but yet the way you make it makes such a difference." Her attention shifts to the man beside her—her butler, I assume. He looks like he'd rather sink into the floor.

"Grell, you should follow his example."

That's a new name. Never heard it before.

"Y-Yes," Grell stammers, shrinking under her gaze.

Out of nowhere, Madam Red gets that glint in her eye. Sebastian doesn't stand a chance.

"Anyways, no matter what, every time I see you, you're still so handsome..." she gushes, hand trailing dangerously low.

She straight-up gropes him.

My jaw drops. Sebastian goes stiff as a board, face unreadable. It's so awkward I let out a startled 'pft'. His glare cuts across the room and stabs directly into me.

Ciel sweat drops beside me, clearly dying inside. "Madam Red," he calls out with a cough, a tick mark forming on his temple.

She backs off but doesn't drop the smile. Sebastian eases away quickly like she's radioactive.

"Let's talk seriously now," Ciel says, regaining composure. I sip my tea, letting the warmth settle on my tongue. "I've heard about the case of prostitutes being murdered on the streets lately."

My brow pinches. That...sounds oddly familiar.

"You mean what's been on the news nonstop lately? I know of it," Madam Red replies, smirking faintly.

I lean forward, curious. Lau chimes in smoothly, "However, what are you planning?"

"This isn't just some ordinary case. The killer's ways are very special—no, I would say, abnormal. That's why she is so concerned about it." Ciel crosses one leg over the other.

A chill runs down my spine. This case...I know it. But from where?

"What do you mean?" Madam Red presses.

"The murdered prostitute was Mary Ann Nichols. The wounds looked like they were from some kind of sharp tool, using quick cuts, with a painful death." Ciel nibbles a cookie like it's just another tea break. "The police and other prostitutes call the murderer..."

I freeze, cup halfway to my lips. My hands tremble. "...Jack the Ripper," I whisper.

I lower the teacup, pulse racing. Holy shit. This is the infamous Jack the Ripper case. The one that never got solved.

Ciel and Sebastian both glance at me—curious, maybe even suspicious. I ignore them. My mind's spinning with dread. If this plays out the same way as history, Ciel is going to be dealing with a serial killer. What if the case never gets solved because he...

No. I don't want to finish that thought.

"I just wanted to know the circumstances sooner, so I rushed to London, too," Ciel continues, focusing back on the conversation.

Lau chuckles softly, expression unreadable. "The Queen's watchdogs have already been dispatched, but I'm not interested. However, do you have the guts to go to the crime scene?"

"What do you mean?"

"I smelled a wild beast at the crime scene. The murderer is definitely an abnormal madman." Lau rises from his seat with slow elegance, circling toward Ciel like a predator. "Will you be scared, Earl of Phantomhive?"

He brushes a hand along Ciel's cheek, and I narrow my eyes at the contact. Yeah, Lau's definitely a pervert.

"I came because I was worried about my fiancé. I don't need your pointless questions," Ciel answers coldly, eyes narrowed.

"Not bad. That look in your eyes is good."

I frown, uneasy. I've seen firsthand how Ciel handles death—he never flinches. I envy that sometimes.

Suddenly, Lau grabs his wrist and yanks him up. "Then come take a stroll with me!"

Ciel startles. "W-Wait a minute!"

"Seriously! I rarely ever get to have some afternoon tea with the Earl, but I can't even enjoy it in peace? I want to go, too," Madam Red complains, pouting. "Lau, where is the crime scene?"

"Don't you know, Madam?"

"Don't ask me. I don't know either," Lau admits with a shrug and a sigh.

I nearly facepalm. Really?

"You talk so arrogantly, yet you don't even know where it is!?" Madam Red huffs, clearly over it.

Ciel sighs heavily. "Calm down. I know there has to be at least one person that's been to the crime scene," he mutters.

I stare at him, dread pooling in my stomach. Who could that be?

0o0o0o0o

All of us head out into the London streets to gather more information on the case. I had to beg him to let me come. Madam Red was the one who helped push him over the edge. I owe her. I wasn't about to sit at home while a notorious killer stalked the streets—not when my brother was involved. I walk beside him, practically beaming, while Ciel shoots me a disgruntled glance that he thinks I don't notice. Too bad.

Up ahead, a dense crowd swarms in the direction we're headed. That has to be where the murder happened. Hushed voices buzz around us, tangled in tension and rumor.

The crowd's sheer size is impressive—but not unexpected. London loves a spectacle.

"At the time, many people gathered to see what was going on. But it's too troublesome for me to ask the police," Ciel says evenly.

"Then what do we do?" Madam Red asks, brows furrowing.

"Earl, you couldn't be..." Lau murmurs, one hand at his chin.

"There's no other way. It's bothersome to meddle in this case. But I can find someone who works on this case..." Ciel sighs, clearly exhausted by the idea.

I mutter under my breath, unable to hide my distaste, "Ugh, I hate seeing him."

0o0o0o0o

It's a long walk. My heels are killing me, and I feel like I'm slowly being strangled by this dress. I'm seriously seconds away from tossing the shoes and going barefoot. When we finally arrive at his grimy little den of death, my mood dips lower. The building itself is mocking me—its crumbling exterior, dust-caked windows, and flaking paint scream decay. Does this man ever clean?

"So, what is this place?" Lau asks, curiosity blank on his face.

I barely resist the urge to facepalm. Airhead. You'd think the name on the sign might've clued him in. Madam Red's face contorts in disapproval as soon as she realizes where Ciel's brought us. I thought she knew—Vincent used to consult with Undertaker all the time. I file her reaction away.

"Why are you familiar with this type of place?!" she demands.

Still beside Ciel, I shrug. "We both know him. Undertaker has worked with the Phantomhive family for quite some time." My voice trails off into a thoughtful hum. I've never actually asked how long...His gray hair suggests age, but with him, you never really know.

Ciel gives a short nod of agreement as Sebastian opens the door. My brother steps inside first. I follow, and the others trail in after us.

The shop is just as awful as I remember. Dust hangs in the air like it's lived here longer than the furniture. Cobwebs stretch across the ceilings like tired veins. Coffins are propped against every wall, some cracked open, some ominously sealed. It's dim, and the only light filters in through filthy windows. I haven't been here since I was twelve, and honestly? That was already too many times.

"Are you there, Undertaker?" Ciel calls into the dim room.

A sudden, chilling laugh rips through the silence. My spine locks up. Nope. Nope. I hate this. I force myself to stay calm, bracing for a jump scare.

"I knew you would come," Undertaker's voice cackles.

"Welcome, Earl and little lost girl~."

A coffin creaks open. Long, clawed fingers curl out from the lid, and I instantly duck behind Sebastian, peeking past his arm. He raises an eyebrow at me but quickly lets it go. I glare up at him briefly. Like he wouldn't flinch if a corpse clawed its way toward him.

Undertaker's lanky form slides into view, that unnerving grin stitched onto his face. I exhale slowly, realizing my shoulders had crept up to my ears. God, I hate horror crap. Still, not quite as terrifying as a Ghost Adventures binge night—those used to leave me shaking under the covers.

Madam Red, Lau, and Grell all stare in open shock. Can't blame them. I step out from behind Sebastian, a little steadier now.

"Do you want to see how it feels to sleep in my custom-made coffin...?"

I sweatdrop. No thanks. No one does.

"I didn't come here to play today—"

"You don't need to tell me. I know why you came. With just one look~ I can tell what's on your mind." Undertaker interrupts smoothly. "Since the Earl went out of his way to visit me, I'll certainly do everything I can to help."

"You know something?"

"Please take a seat first. I'll go make tea."

He disappears into the back. Everyone stares at the surrounding coffins, unsure where to even sit.

"Why not just sit on top?"

I blanch. Sit on a coffin? A real one? I glance at Ciel, who's already perching on one with minor discomfort like it's a stiff-backed chair. How? My feet ache though, and I cave with a long sigh, settling beside him. Hopefully this one's empty. I send a silent apology just in case.

"Why does he always call you that?" Ciel asks out of nowhere.

I blink. "Honestly, I'm not completely sure. I don't like it either way though."

He gives no reply, just quietly absorbs the answer. Yeah, me neither.

"Now then—" Undertaker reappears, clutching a giant beaker full of tea and several smaller ones.

Of course he doesn't use normal cups. I eye the glass suspiciously. How many weird chemicals have been in this thing? Sebastian's the only one I trust with sanitation. I set it beside me and glance at Ciel, who's also staring at him. I grab it from his hand and place it down next to mine. If I'm not drinking it, he isn't either.

Undertaker brings out an urn filled with bone-shaped cookies. His grin fades for once as he speaks:

"You wanted to know about Jack the Ripper? Everyone's been scared because of this disturbance. But this isn't the first time I've handled this kind of thing."

Oh good, corpse cookies and serial killer trivia. A lovely evening.

"Isn't this the first time? What do you mean?" Madam Red asks.

"It's happened before, a case where prostitutes were killed. In fact, the way they were killed was very similar too."

He offers the cookies. Ciel declines instantly. So do I. No thanks. Not in the mood for food shaped like femurs.

"Though all the murdered prostitutes had something in common."

"Something in common?"

"What is it?" Sebastian follows up.

I cross my legs, leaning forward slightly. Morbid curiosity taking over. I remember reading something online—gutted bodies, missing organs...the works.

"Well now, I wonder what, I wonder what indeed. Is it bothering you?" Undertaker grins.

I twitch. He lives to be annoying.

"I see, so that's how it is. You're very good at doing business, Undertaker," Lau observes. "How much money do you want for this information?"

"How much money?! I don't want any of the Queen's money!"

Oh no. Now you've done it, Lau.

Undertaker snaps toward us with a gleam in his eye. I immediately tense.

"Now then, Earl," he growls, grabbing Ciel's face. Seriously?! Why is everyone always grabbing him?

"I only have one requirement. Show me a 'first-rate laugh'. If you do, no matter what you want to know, I'll tell you~!"

Eugh. Is he drooling? There's something wrong with this man. I pry his hands off my brother, eyes narrowed. Ciel doesn't need some crypt keeper fondling him.

Undertaker giggles as he returns to the counter.

"Creep," I mutter.

Ciel and Sebastian share sweat drops. I can tell they agree.

"Earl," Lau steps forward with a grin. "If that's the case, let me handle this… The sleeping tiger of Shanghai New Year's party, also referred to as my soul. This should satisfy you!"

...What?

Silence.

"It looks like he still won't talk, Lau. It can't be helped," Madam Red jumps in. Please be better than Lau.

"Then I, Madam Red, a beauty of high society, shall make my appearance now. If I ask him, he'll be sure to tell us!"

She launches into a story so obscene it makes my ears burn.

I immediately slap my hands over Ciel's ears. He glances up at me with a sweatdrop but doesn't stop me. I'm not sure what disturbs me more—her story, or the fact she kept going for an hour.

Eventually, Undertaker slaps X-shaped masks on both Lau and Madam Red.

Good. Finally, a moment of peace.

"You're the only one left, Earl."

"I've helped you many times in the past. Can't you be nice to me just this once?"

"Sebastian?!" Ciel blurts as his butler steps forward, gloves snapping tight.

"It can't be helped."

"Actually, I want the little lost girl to give me prime laughter," Undertaker purrs. "That last joke you pulled all those years ago was quite hilarious."

I stiffen. Ciel opens his mouth, likely to shut this down, but I raise a hand and smile at him.

"I've got it," I say, standing. "If it gets us answers, I'll tell a joke."

I turn to the others. "Everyone, please exit the shop for a brief moment."

Ciel looks like he hates this, but they all comply. Once the door clicks shut, I face Undertaker.

"I have to ask," I say, arms crossed, "do you really want a joke—or just to get me alone?"

He waves a bone cookie lazily. "What do you think?"

I sigh. "Fine. I'll tell one so bad you'll laugh until you piss yourself."

His grin widens.

I take a deep breath. "How many babies does it take to paint a wall?"

"How many?" he giggles.

I lose it before I even get the punchline out, laughing so hard I nearly choke. "I—I don't know—depends how h-hard you throw them!"

Undertaker stares for one suspended second—then bursts into hysterical, full-body laughter. I join him, wheezing with tears in my eyes.

When the others return, they all stare at me in horrified silence. Especially Sebastian.

Oh no. Did they hear that?

"Come...continue, whatever you want to know is fine," Undertaker drools. I cough, still trying to recover. That joke should not have worked so well.

Ciel pats my back as I wipe my eyes. I give him a grateful look.

"Actually, I've always thought that there weren't enough 'guests'."

"Not enough?" Sebastian asks.

"Yes, not enough," Undertaker replies, examining a muscle-and-brain face model beside him. He flashes it toward us with a grin. "Internal organs, of course."

I'm not all that surprised, honestly. I already knew Jack the Ripper was cruel like that. Still, everyone else seems quite shocked.

"Don't you think that the eternally sleeping 'guests' that lay in coffins are so cute? My hobby is to take out organs for research." Undertaker continues to explain.

I scrunch my face in disgust at the word cute. That's just disturbing to even think about.

Everyone's eyes flick nervously toward the beakers of tea he handed out earlier.

Lau looks especially uneasy; he sets his beaker down and raises a hand to cover his mouth. "This could have stored a kidney before, right? A criminal could've given it to a loan shark…"

"It also could've come from the slums of China. That prostitute isn't a whole woman anymore," Undertaker says morbidly. What does he mean by not a whole woman anymore? My curiosity spikes. "Because her womb is gone," he elaborates.

Shock ripples through me, and I step forward, voice rising with confusion, "I thought they were simply hacked cruelly? I never heard anything about a womb missing specifically!"

Everyone turns toward me with varying degrees of surprise and suspicion. My brother and Sebastian shoot me wary glances. I bite my tongue, realizing I might be digging a deeper hole.

Undertaker smirks at my outburst. "It would seem so, right? But no, the womb is most definitely missing. Recently, these kinds of 'guests' have been rapidly increasing. Their whole bodies dripping with blood—it's kept me very busy."

"Let's just say there aren't many people out on the streets late at night. But accurately cutting out specific organs couldn't be done by a regular person, right?" Sebastian asks, voice calm and measured.

"The butler understands well. I feel the same," Undertaker says as he moves behind me. I watch him carefully. His hands settle on my neck and waist. I force myself not to squirm in this sudden, unnerving closeness.

His long hair brushes my exposed skin, nails grazing lightly — it sends a chill down my spine. This is so creepy.

Not just because he's invading my personal space, but because he's talking about brutal murder like it's routine, using my body to demonstrate. He makes slicing motions around the areas he mentioned.

"From the looks of the culprit's work, that cruel accuracy definitely wasn't carried out by a normal citizen. It had to be someone experienced," Undertaker explains, then throws a glance at my brother. "You should've been able to figure that out too, Earl. It's very likely the murderer is an expert. Maybe if he knew you were here, it could lure him out."

"He will keep committing crimes, he definitely will, unless someone stops him," Ciel states, rising from the coffin he had been sitting on.

"Can you stop him?" Undertaker asks, stepping away from me. "'The Notorious Noble.' Earl of Phantomhive."

I stand up after my brother, catching his 'we're leaving' glance. I couldn't be happier to go.

Sebastian helps Ciel with his coat.

"The world of darkness has the world of darkness's rules. He wouldn't murder random people for no reason. There must be an influence manipulating him from behind," Ciel says, eyes sharp with resolve. "I won't be scared, no matter what tricks the queen's lackeys want to use. I will solve them all." He starts toward the door, and I follow, Sebastian opening it for us. My brother takes one last look back. "Sorry for intruding, Undertaker."

We file out of the shop one by one and head toward the carriage.

0o0o0o0o

I'm squished in the middle between Sebastian and my brother. Uncomfortable as hell. Why put me in the middle? It'd make more sense to have Ciel there—he's tiny. Madam Red and Lau sit across from us.

"Can't you scoot over further?" I ask Ciel, squirming.

He gives me a tick mark behind his head and says, "For the third time, no."

I 'tsk' and turn to Sebastian. My big dress is in the way—another reason I'm cramped. I reach for Sebastian's arm resting at his side. He raises a brow, confused, as I wrap it around my shoulders. Instant relief. He sweat-drops, and I sigh lightly, sinking deeper into the seat.

Everyone's looking at me strangely—Madam Red's smirking to herself. I blink, owlish, at the perplexed expressions. "What?" I ask, genuinely confused.

Ciel clears his throat, glaring a bit before relaxing, "What do you think after hearing that?"

Sebastian catches on and curls a finger thoughtfully in front of his chin. "I've been thinking...the murderer should be 'an anatomical expert.' But also someone who knows where the police are when they commit the crimes. The culprit could be taking organs for some kind of ceremony or because they're with a 'black magic cult,'" he deduces carefully.

I hum slowly, thinking it through. "So a doctor? Or maybe a surgeon could be the murderer? It would make sense since they know exactly what to take out and where." I frown, disgust creeping into my voice. "I can't believe 'black magic cults' still exist. Are humans really that stupid nowadays? Jeez."

Silence falls again.

Ciel stares at me wide-eyed. Did I say something weird? I wonder. I catch a glimpse of Sebastian smirking just for a split second.

"It is something to think about." Sebastian notes.

Madam Red speaks up. "Then right now, where do we start?" Her eyes flick between us, then fix on me with something close to nervousness.

She shifts her focus to Sebastian. "It's 'The Season' right now—so many people gathered at the capital." She frets a little. "As Rina mentioned, not only are London doctors suspects, but also the head physicians aristocrats have been brought. And not just doctors—medical students could be culprits too. Like Lau, many foreigners brought weapons. But if we wait a week, 'The Season' will end, and many doctors will return home."

I frown, silently agreeing, but something about her tone unsettles me. It feels like she's trying to convince me rather than simply inform. Something's off. I don't like it.

"We'll wait until then to investigate," Sebastian states simply, a dangerous curve to his lips. That smirk rarely shows—it sends a shiver down my spine.

"Why?" Lau asks, unsure of Sebastian's reasoning.

"There's no way we can investigate clearly during 'The Season,'" Sebastian replies.

"Let's just say we can't investigate clearly. Shouldn't we at least compile a report on the suspects?" Madam Red counters.

"Please wait a moment," Sebastian interrupts, a mischievous quirk to his lips. "As the Earl of Phantomhive's butler, how could I not accomplish such a small matter?" He gestures to his chest, rhetorical.

Madam Red and Lau stare at him, incredulous. I smirk, knowing Sebastian is more than capable. My brother smirks too—I wonder if ours look the same for a brief moment.

Sebastian removes his arm from my shoulders. I don't protest. His eyes close in a smile. "Then, I'll immediately begin investigating and quickly research all suspect reports," he announces, sitting upright.

Wait, why is he standing? The carriage is moving...

He strides to the door. My eyes widen. "Hold up—" I start.

The carriage door slams open, a rush of air floods inside.

Sebastian talks briefly with Grell, who's driving us back to the manor. Then he turns back, signature smile in place, hanging on the doorframe, feet on the edge of the carriage. "Then, please excuse me if I leave now."

He's fucking crazy! I scream silently, eyes bulging. My brother waves him off casually. My mouth falls open. The door slams shut. Sebastian's gone in a flash.

Madam Red and Lau panic, staring out the window behind them, searching for him.

0o0o0o0o

The ride back feels longer than it should, with Madam Red and Ciel bickering most of the way. Grell is a terrible carriage driver; I don't know how many times I almost flew out of my seat. And to top it off, we got lost!

We finally pull up to the mansion. I release a breath of relief. Something familiar.

I want out of this carriage now.

We step down one by one, with Grell helping, skittish as usual. I flash him a small smile; he startles. Definitely anxious.

"Haa~ We're finally back home." Lau sighs, rubbing his stiff back.

My own back cramps badly, probably worse thanks to the corset. I want to rip it off.

"We only arrived so late because Grell went the wrong way!" Madam Red complains.

I smile gently and touch her shoulder. "Calm down, auntie. Why don't we grab a cup of tea and relax for a bit, okay?" I offer happily.

She nods, returning the smile.

I spot Sebastian shortly after—all in black, easy to find in the light. "Welcome back. I've been waiting for everyone for a while," he greets with a bow and closed-eye smile. I check him over, making sure his stunt jumping out of the carriage didn't hurt him. He looks fine. I follow my brother, thinking.

"Black tea has been prepared. Today's dessert is European pear and blackberry buckle," Sebastian informs us as he takes off Ciel's hat.

The dessert sounds scrumptious, but right now, I just want out of this dress.

"H-Hold on! How did you get back here?!" Madam Red exclaims behind us.

I don't pay much attention—Auntie's in shock.

I walk inside tiredly, hearing Sebastian steal my phrase below. I snicker.

Today was definitely eventful. I already knew Sebastian collected the list; he's amazing like that. It's a wonder how he does it, but I've stopped questioning most of the impossible things he pulls off.

Chapter Text

Smiling happily, I wiggle my toes now finally freed from the confines of those blasted heels. I catch many disapproving glances but ignore them all. I'd like to see my brother try walking in these—he doesn't understand the pain of being a woman. However, now that I think about it. He does wear heels.

We sit together in the drawing-room, the silence heavy and contemplative. Sebastian pulls out the list of suspects he gathered earlier. "To be 'a doctor and knowledgeable about anatomy,' to have 'no alibi on the day before the incident,' followed by 'being connected to a secret society or black magic,' there is only one person who fits these criteria. It would be Viscount Druitt, Lord Aleister Chamber."

"Although he graduated from medical school, he has never worked at a hospital before, nor been involved professionally. He has hosted a number of seasonal parties, but there's a rumor that some were exclusive—only for those close to him." Sebastian informs us calmly.

I've never heard of the man before, but from the sound of it, that's probably for the best.

"Viscount Druitt, huh..." Madam Red mutters. "Now that you mention it, I do recall he's been into black magic quite recently."

My eyebrow twitches in annoyance. People seriously still do that kind of stuff? I forget how dumb humans can be, especially in this time period. Don't even get me started on the medicine they use here.

"So, he is suspected of carrying out some sort of ceremony at that 'secret party' and planning to use those prostitutes as altar sacrifices?" Lau speculates.

"What the fuck?" I blurt out without thinking. Everyone turns to stare in shock. I immediately sweatdrop. "Excuse my French." I apologize with an embarrassed laugh.

Sebastian dismisses my swearing with a reprimanding look, flicking his eyes back to the list he holds. "At the nineteenth hour today, Viscount Druitt will be hosting a party. The seasonal period will be done soon; I believe tonight would be the time to go and investigate."

"Madam Red," Ciel interrupts, setting down the fork he was using. "Because of this reason, can you think of something?" he asks.

She smirks slyly and flips her hair with a flick of her hand. "Aren't you underestimating me? Aren't I rather popular? A few words here and there, and it'll be arranged."

"It has been decided then. No matter what, I must get into that 'secret party.'"

"You will not be going in the name of Phantomhive, so you must use this chance properly!" Madam Red points out firmly.

I guess my brother will disguise himself.

He'll most likely wear a wig and use a fake name. I'm a bit concerned, though—I didn't bring any of my party gowns with me.

All I have upstairs in my bedroom is a pretty dress I had Nina make me. It's, erm, form-fitting without the use of a corset. It's super elegant, though, and Nina was practically fondling me in it.

Madam Red leaves briefly to fetch the invitations.

I excuse myself from the room and head upstairs.

I wonder what to do for the party. I'll probably have to wear a wig, too.

Entering my bedroom, I rummage through my closet in a slight frenzy. Literally all I have in the townhouse is this custom-made dress. It covers mostly everything but outlines my whole body in an appealing way.

It was just a fun-to-make kind of dress, not to actually wear.

I gulp nervously, unsure of what to do.

I keep staring at the dress dangling from its hanger. Looks like I might not have a choice. Frowning, I grab it with a grumble. I can already picture everyone's reaction to this dress.

This isn't going to go well.

My brother definitely wouldn't let me go if I wear this.

I toss it onto my bed with an aggravated sigh.

Dragging my hand through my hair, I wonder what a girl is supposed to do. The party isn't until later this evening—it's only early morning now.

Time's on my side to figure something out, especially since I'm in London.

I haven't tried that dress on yet, though.

I pick it up again and marvel at its beauty. It truly is a masterpiece from countless revisions between Nina and me. Deep ocean blue, decorated with tiny fake diamonds across the front like stars on a veil.

It hugs the body without the need of a corset.

Well, since I have time to kill, I might as well try it on, right?

I slip off my current gown and take off the corset. I reach into my suitcase and grab my bra and underwear. Putting them on feels like a breath of fresh air. Taking the dress, I unbutton the back—zippers aren't exactly a thing yet, sadly. I lower the dress and step into it, pulling it upward. Struggling slightly, I almost fall over with a loud yelp but catch myself on the bed.

The door opens abruptly.

I flinch in shock, hunched over in the dress, clutching it to my chest as I nearly fall. My eyes widen in horror to see Sebastian standing in the doorway, his eyes just as wide.

I flush deep red and wrap my arms tighter around myself.

"S-Sebastian!? W-What are you doing here?!" I shriek, my blush increasing tenfold.

His stunned expression shifts into a smirk of amusement. "I simply heard my lady shout. I thought something may have happened."

I stand upright, holding the dress to my body. "Well! As you can see, I am perfectly well! Get out!" I screech, pointing repeatedly at the door.

"But my lady, you seem in need of assistance." He drawls, stepping closer.

I take a few steps back until the backs of my knees hit the bed. "No! Back, back you fiend!"

He only comes closer with a stretching smirk. I glare back. He spots the dress I'm partially wearing and stares at it with a flicker of confusion.

"I've never seen this design before." He wonders aloud, finger to chin in thought.

I sigh, glad he's distracted now. "Yeah, I made it with Nina. It's super pretty!" I exclaim proudly.

"Then I must help you put it on. I wish to see such craftsmanship."

I blush again and shake my head. "I'm good, I got it!" I protest urgently.

He smirks and is at least two inches away from me. "I insist."

"N.O." I spell out. "Do you speak English?" I ask rhetorically.

He glares slightly but eventually looks away with a sigh. "The young master is calling. Excuse me."

He leaves, shutting the door behind him.

I stand there confused.

How on Earth did he hear my brother's voice from here?

All I could hear was silence.

I don't even think about it anymore.

Sebastian's just odd like that. I decide that trying on the dress is more of a hassle and a memory of embarrassment now. I shimmy it off instead, and put it back on the hanger with a pout. I stuff it back into my closet with a sigh of disappointment.

I grab my robe hanging off a chair nearby. I slip that on before sitting down on my bed.

I wonder if Auntie will have something in her closet–

A knock erupts my thoughts and I tell whoever it was to come in. Surprisingly, my auntie stands and opens the door, revealing herself. She was back already? That was fast, I note.

Though my eyes catch what she holds in her arms not long after. She smiles at me when I stare at her questionably.

"I want you to look your best at the party." she states while handing me a satin, sleeveless, dark purple dress. It did not have many ruffles, a more mature dress. The color was so exquisite, it reminds me of Canterbury Bells. I smile at the thought and hug the dress closer to my body. The top piece was black lace and so was the bottom skirt.

I really love the design.

I smile at her warmly and bring her in for a hug, "I love it! Thank you so much!" I exclaim.

She pats my back and pulls away first with a smile still in place, "I'm happy you like it, I've been meaning to give it to you for a while now."

I nod and hold the dress out in front of me, "Well, I think it'll shine tonight at the party."

"I bet it will. I better be off; I have to give Ciel his own." she responds with a wave.

I wave back and stop when she leaves the room.

...wait, give Ciel his own?

0o0o0o0o

I manage to get the corset on without any hassle, somehow. Sebastian's help with corsets? Never again. I refuse.

Later, I slip on the wig my aunt dropped off and study myself in the mirror with curious eyes. Black hair—I never really thought about how I'd look with it. The curls bounce just past the middle of my back when I sway slightly in place.

It suits me, though it's a stark change.

This beautiful dress only sharpens the contrast with my pale skin. Ethereal? Almost, but that's pushing it. I quickly touch up my makeup and head out the door.

Downstairs, the group is already gathered in the foyer.

The closer I get, the more confused I become. There's a little girl in a pink dress—at first, I think it might be Elizabeth. But the hair in those pigtails is unmistakable.

I reach the last step and move closer to the group, curious. Sebastian stands there in a new tuxedo, wearing glasses that make him look even more dangerously handsome—he's definitely going to steal some glances tonight, though that's nothing new.

He glances at me from the corner of his eye like he can hear my thoughts. Then he does a double take, his eyes briefly widening. The look vanishes almost as quickly as it came.

I stop next to him, questioning silently, but I don't dwell on it. My attention is on the little girl.

Suddenly, he turns toward me, and I gasp, hand flying to my mouth.

My eyes must be as wide as saucers. My brother—correction—sister blushes as soon as she sees me. Holy shit, he's so cute! I feel my own cheeks heat up and pull him into a bear hug, lifting him slightly like Elizabeth does. I twirl him around in my spot.

"O.M.G, you're so freaking cute!" I gush, pressing my cheek to his flushed face.

He squirms, gasping, "R-Rina! I-I can't breathe."

I loosen my grip, realizing I accidentally used way too much strength, and set him down with a dazzling smile. "I've always wanted a little sister too!"

He continues to blush but scowls, "T-This is not the time to be messing around."

"Dummy," I tease, flicking his forehead. "You're too adorable to simply ignore."

Madam Red smirks and approaches us, "Rina, I was right about the dress. It fits you beautifully."

Heat rises to my cheeks at her compliment. I scratch my cheek, embarrassed. "You think so? I rather like it too."

"I thought you planned to wear the other dress from earlier, my lady?" Sebastian asks.

I blush, remembering how that went down. "No, it did not... fit." I lie smoothly, though he raises an eyebrow.

"Alright, let's get going, shall we?" Madam Red announces.

Sebastian bows gracefully and pulls the front door open. A carriage waits outside. I'm the last one to step out, watching everyone climb in.

I hope everything goes well tonight, I think, eyes fixed on my brother's retreating back. I'll keep my eyes peeled for danger—and have fun, too.

0o0o0o0o

We arrive at the party about twenty minutes later. The inside is crowded, but that's to be expected.

Once settled, we all stand by a table.

"We're not here to play, so don't let your guard down!" Ciel declares sternly, arms crossed.

I swallow a laugh that threatens to escape. Trying to take him seriously in that getup is impossible. He's so freaking cute; I wish I had a phone to snap a picture.

Madam Red can't resist either, hugging him tightly. "So cute. Super cute! ~" she squeals.

He blushes again, trying to squirm free, "Let go of me! Why do I have to be dressed like this?!"

"Hold up, did you make him wear this, Auntie?" I ask, smirking.

She nods, and I bite back a fit of giggles. Oh, he's never living this down. "What? You don't like it? But a lot of cloth was used to make this in France!" she counters, fake disappointed.

"Why would I like it?!" he shouts.

"I like it," I say, smirking. He glares and starts to retort, but Sebastian approaches.

"Oh my, oh my," he says, adjusting his glasses. "A lady should not be shouting so loudly." He scolds lightly with a smirk.

"Sebastian, you..." Ciel trails off, exasperated. "Wait, Rina yells all the time, you don't scold her though!" he points at me indignantly.

Huh? Was he trying to get me in trouble too? This bratty little brother. I definitely don't need Sebastian scolding me!

Sebastian sweat-drops and sighs, "My lady is a special case."

I smirk triumphantly. "Thank you." Then I scowl and glare, "You asshole, that was an insult, wasn't it?"

He tosses me his signature smile. "I don't have a clue what you mean, my lady."

Why this little fucker! I'm about to argue back when Auntie cuts in, sensing the brewing fight.

"Right!" she exclaims, grabbing all our attention. "You have to obediently follow instructions!" she grins. "Lau's role is my lover, Ciel and Rina are my nieces from the countryside, Sebastian is Ciel's home tutor, Rina you are in a secret romance with Sebastian, and Grell can be as he is."

My face pales at the role assignments.

Oh no. I glance at Sebastian—he smirks slyly, clearly enjoying my nerves.

"D-Does he have to be my secret lover, Auntie?" I protest.

Ciel doesn't look thrilled either.

Auntie laughs oddly and nods. "Yes!"

I sigh, realizing there's no turning back now. While Sebastian looks charming tonight, I don't want to play a secret lover. That thought drains any good mood I had.

"So, why is my role 'your niece'?" Ciel asks with a light blush, gritting his teeth.

"Because I've always wanted a daughter! A cute daughter who would look lovely in those long flowing dresses!" she giggles.

Ciel's face darkens with a vein throbbing on his temple. "FOR THAT REASON, YOU...?!" he seethes.

I smile warmly at him.

Auntie's one of the closest family members we have. Watching them interact reminds me of the 'real' Ciel who's gone. This brother acts like his twin so much, it's almost hard to believe he isn't. But I often wonder…if he forces Ciel's personality or if he's turned out this way.

I feel a bitter reality dampen my mood slightly at the notion.

Though from his random looks and words, I know this is Fenian. His voice is the same—if anything, slightly higher now that puberty is creeping in.

"I was just joking," Madam Red abruptly says. "To have your cover blown as Earl of Phantomhive would be troublesome, no?" She whispers into Ciel's ear, but I catch every word. She moves away and adds with a grin, "Firstly! Anyone who sees a one-eyed young boy with a dashing, handsome butler would know it's you. Isn't this the best solution?" We all know the answer. "Anyway, the Viscount's security is tight, and he likes girls, so both you and Rina are perfect!" she exclaims, pointing.

"What?!" Ciel and I shout in sync.

"Did the young master not say so before?" Sebastian asks, finger to chin, side-smirking. "To 'use any means necessary'?"

Damn, he got my brother good. I see the glare aimed at his butler.

"Shall we go, my ladies?" Sebastian asks, motioning toward the bustling crowd.

We move further into the sea of aristocrats, all dressed elegantly, chatting quietly.

"How are we gonna find Viscount among all these people?" I ask, looking around. I don't even know what he looks like—only Auntie does.

"Viscount is a good man! Because of this, I'm so fired up!" Auntie exclaims, eyes sparkling.

I sweat-drop. She does realize he's bad, right? "Is he really that handsome?" I ask, shaking my head.

Her eyes gleam with certainty. "Indeed, very."

Okay, I'm a little curious now—no one's more handsome than Chris Hemsworth, except Sebastian in my eyes.

"It's terrible. It's heavy, this dress. It's painful. My feet. I want to go back!" Ciel complains under his breath, already exhausted.

I snicker softly. "You should respect women, brother. The pain they endure just to look good is ridiculous, but we do it anyway."

He glares. I grin too wide. Suddenly, his face pales and he looks terrified. "I really do not want my fiancé to see me like this..."

I wince, imagining exactly what she'd do.

"Wow! What a pretty dress!" a voice erupts behind us, oddly familiar.

Could it be...?

"Not good, I think I'm starting to hear things," Ciel mutters dully. We all exchange concerned looks.

"That headpiece is so exquisite!" the voice shrills again.

This time, we realize it's not a hallucination. We spin around so fast fear paints our faces. Holy shit, she's actually here!?

"There's a lot of pretty dresses! So cute!~" Elizabeth praises with a bright smile.

"S-S-Sebastian!" I whisper-shout, and Ciel does the same. I smack Sebastian's chest behind me, emphasizing my panic.

"M-My ladies, please be quieter! Let's go that way first!" he whispers back, sliding an arm around my back and Ciel's as he drags us away slowly.

If she catches us, Ciel and I will most likely be found out!

"Ah!" Elizabeth's shout rings out behind us, sharp and sudden. We freeze in place, panic knotting my stomach. We're going to be caught! I think, my breath hitching with an internal cry of horror.

"That dress that child is wearing is so cute!" Elizabeth exclaims loudly, her voice filled with girlish excitement.

Sebastian steps forward confidently, and I follow, desperate to put some distance between us and this pink-obsessed little girl. "You can't, my lady..." he begins, then subtly calls back to my brother, who's still frozen in place. "Come this way!"

Without warning, Sebastian grabs my wrist—and my brother's too—and pulls us hurriedly behind a nearby table laden with a delicious-looking cake.

I lift a finger, tempted by the frosting, but Sebastian's reprimanding glare stops me cold. I pout like the child I am. He releases my wrist just as Elizabeth's searching voice echoes around the table.

"Why is that person here! Anyway, let's go to where the ladies are..." Ciel murmurs, eyes darting cautiously. I glance around with him and spot Madam Red lounging in a chair, languid and being fanned by Lau.

My jaw drops slightly at the scene. "She is enjoying herself, it seems." I snort softly, amused. It's just like her—I'm not surprised.

"Strange for your fiancé to be here," Sebastian comments dryly. "Quite unexpected."

Ciel pales, the thought tightening his features. "Regardless of the disguise, if we meet..." he trails off, dread creeping into his voice.

"We'll be found out in seconds flat," I whisper, a nervous sweat dotting my temple.

My brother's face falls deeper into panic. "If she discovers me, I won't be able to investigate!"

I've never seen him rattled. Part of me wants to laugh, though I'm nervous too—just better at hiding it.

"Further, everyone will find out that the young lady is, in fact, 'Young Master.'" Sebastian's tone carries a hint of warning.

Oh my god, that would be so embarrassing! I imagine the wild rumors already spreading. I glance at Ciel and see pure horror etched across his face.

Sebastian, you love teasing him, but I think you've actually scared him for once.

Ciel grabs the tablecloth with a harsh gasp. "If people find out I'm dressed like this, it'll be the ultimate humiliation for the Phantomhive family!" His voice is low, almost desperate. "If it comes to that, I'd rather die!" His face shifts back to normal. "Anyway, we cannot..." His words are cut off by a nearby woman's voice.

"Viscount Druitt is so handsome tonight! His light golden hair is like gold thread!" The woman gushes.

That catches all our attention. We peer over the edge of the table, searching through the crowd.

Finally, I spot the man she means—with some effort. He's definitely good looking, but oddly, I don't feel much of anything for him.

"So, he's Viscount Druitt," Ciel notes, studying the man carefully.

I whistle low. "Can't deny, he's really good lookin'. Bet he gets all the women easily." Ciel shoots me a scowl, and I just shrug, unabashed. "He's pretty young though—I thought he'd be older. Seems I was wrong." I hum thoughtfully.

"I'm going over to greet him!" Ciel announces, already moving.

I open my mouth to protest, but Sebastian stops him with a quiet warning. "Please act like a lady, according to what I've taught you. If there's a man beside you, he'll be on his guard. I'll be here, waiting."

Sebastian leans close and whispers in Ciel's ear, but somehow I still hear every word—it's strange, but I dismiss it. My brother nods and heads toward the Viscount.

"Should I go too?" I ask Sebastian, frowning as we watch the scene unfold.

"No. You're the backup," he states, eyes fixed on Ciel.

"Good to know," I reply sarcastically.

Ciel stands right behind the Viscount, trying to catch his attention. Then suddenly I hear Elizabeth's voice again, and my heart sinks—she's found my brother again. Curses to my sparring partner and her love for pink!

"AHH! FOUND IT!" Elizabeth shouts, forcing the crowd to part slightly.

Ciel spins around in panic, eyes wide, and begins to edge away slowly, weighed down by the dress. Sebastian grabs my wrist again, pulling us after him as we chase wherever Ciel flees. We scan the room; Sebastian spots him quickly and speeds up. I struggle to keep pace, heels stabbing into the floor.

He seizes my brother's hand, and Ciel's surprise melts into relief. "Over here, my lady," Sebastian suggests.

I glance back—Elizabeth is closing in. I tug Sebastian's sleeve and nod in her direction. He catches on immediately and beckons a waiter over. "Please give a glass of lemonade to that lady," he instructs, pointing at Elizabeth.

"Certainly," the waiter replies with a smile and heads off.

Sebastian leads us out onto the balcony. The chill of the night air is a welcome balm. It's really nice out—makes me want to roast marshmallows over a campfire if we weren't in these circumstances.

"That was dangerous. Why am I the only one in this mess..." Ciel scoffs, exhaling sharply.

"Because you love trouble?" I tease.

He glares. "I hate it, thank you very much."

I chuckle, but the music swells again, pulling our attention. Couples gather and begin to dance.

"Damnit!" Ciel curses as the floor fills up.

"Hey, watch your mouth, kiddo," I scold with a mock frown.

He shoots back, "You say bad words all the time."

I flick his nose, smirking. "Yeah, but I'm older."

His glare deepens, but I just smile.

Sebastian probably doesn't care—but slacking on disciplining a child is no way to raise one. Ciel thinks himself mature, but he still needs guidance.

He turns his gaze back to the dancers. "The hall is swarming...I can't approach the Viscount this way."

"Then there's no choice," Sebastian replies, glancing around. We step back inside, and I nod. They'll have to dance their way through. "We'll join the dance, then approach the Viscount. Remember what I taught you?"

Ciel's expression sours, clearly not thrilled to dance with his butler. I stifle a giggle.

"What should I do in the meantime?" I ask, unsure.

"Don't cause a ruckus or get in the way," Ciel orders sternly.

I sigh and nod.

Watching them waltz into the crowd, I feel useless. What can I do? I wander around, careful not to interfere. I lean back against a pillar and hum softly, recalling the piano notes swirling through the air. It reminds me of Perks of Being a Wallflower.

I don't know what piece it is, but it's beautiful. I sway gently to the rhythm, wishing for more freedom in dance—something like what the lower and middle classes enjoy. That's the way to have fun.

I spot Ciel and Sebastian a few times, but then lose them. Settling at a nearby table, I rest my head on my hand, bored. I wonder if this is what prom feels like—I never got to experience it. Handsome men pass by, but none catch my eye. Lately, that's been the case.

It's disappointing, but I don't know why.

The dance ends, and I wonder if Ciel reached the Viscount. Then, a loud crash startles the crowd and me.

A tall wooden cupboard has appeared on the center floor. I'm baffled.

Suddenly, a man appears beside it. I recognize the back of his head immediately. What the hell is Sebastian doing?!

I push through the gathering crowd, elbowing my way to the edge beside him. He wears a tan mask decorated with red swirls and strange clothing I don't recognize. His signature smirk is in place. Elizabeth is nearby, captivated.

Sebastian glances at me out of the corner of his eye; his smirk deepens at my stunned look.

Whispers ripple through the crowd, mixing confusion and excitement.

"The ball is at its peak, so may all the gentlemen and ladies watch this magic performance I shall do with this cupboard!" Sebastian announces grandly, gesturing toward the wooden box.

...Huh? My mind spins. I don't understand this at all. Maybe Ciel's trouble with Elizabeth pushed Sebastian into this.

"That gentleman, can you assist me?" Sebastian asks, pointing to Lau.

"Me? Why of course." Lau grins, eyes closed in amusement.

"This is an ordinary cupboard. I will now enter it," Sebastian proclaims, hand on his chest.

I tap my chin, curious about the plan. Sebastian picks up chains and rests a hand on the cupboard's side. "After I go in, tie it up tightly with these."

I glance again—the side of the cupboard is lined with swords. No way this isn't a trick. He'd be dead inside minutes otherwise.

"And then these swords will be used—" Sebastian grabs one and points it at the cupboard door, "—to pierce this cupboard!" he announces with a shout.

Everyone gasps and murmurs among themselves, surprise and concern weaving through the crowd.

"After you do this, I shall come out alive for all to see. There is no trick or trap to this," Sebastian explains calmly, handing the sword to Lau. He begins climbing into the cupboard, still wearing that infuriating smirk, and I can't help the knot of worry tightening in my chest. I know he's incredible, but the concern won't leave my mind. "Please watch this rare magic performance!" he calls out lightly, like it's some simple party trick.

Once Sebastian's inside, Lau wraps the chains tightly around the cupboard.

He holds the sword Sebastian gave him in one hand, the other on his chin, as if pondering a great dilemma. "Well, I won't hold back…" Lau comments with mock worry, and I can tell it's all for show.

Then, without warning, Lau leaps into the air and slams the sword down hard—right where Sebastian's head must be.

I gasp sharply, covering my mouth to stop myself from shouting Sebastian's name.

Holy hell! Lau, you crazy bastard.

Sebastian could be dead inside that cramped space. The crowd gasps and stiffens, sharing my shock and fear. I'm ready to tear those chains off just to be sure.

When Lau lands back on the floor, he begins thrusting swords into the cupboard rapidly, plunging them deep to the hilt. Each clang of metal against wood ratchets up my anxiety. The swords stick out at wild angles until he finally runs out.

Lau stands back, gesturing toward the cupboard with an innocent, almost smug look. "Like this?" he asks the crowd. I blanch at the sight.

"Okay, let's see if he's alright," I murmur, barely able to keep my fingers from trembling.

My nails are nearly bitten to the quick, nerves twisting tight in my stomach.

Then Lau unlocks the chains, which clatter to the floor. The cupboard door swings open, and out steps Sebastian—completely unscathed, wearing that infuriatingly fake grin. Not a hint of blood, not a single tear in his clothing. How on earth did he survive that? He said there were no tricks, right? There's no possible way…

I've always called him the impossible man, but this? This was next-level impossible. My mind blanks in utter disbelief.

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, voices praising the brilliant act. Clapping echoes all around the room. I stand frozen, stunned into silence.

Sebastian picks up the cupboard and strides into the crowd, disappearing from view.

I stalk over to Lau and smack him hard on the head. "You could've killed him, idiot!" I snap. He rubs the sore spot, pouting like a child.

"But I didn't, Lady Rina," he replies.

I sigh, the tension draining slowly from my body. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Sebastian reappears, removing his mask, and approaches us. Madam Red comes over, clapping her hands enthusiastically. "That was quite impressive, Sebastian!" she says.

"Impressive?" I echo, incredulous. "More like that was fucking awesome! Sebastian, I don't understand how in the hell you did that! Not even a mark on you!" I exclaim, scanning his clothes again.

He smirks at my praise, clearly feeding off it. "Thank you, my lady," he says with a slight bow. I smile brightly, relieved to see he's truly unharmed.

"Really! And it was like a mountain of needles too!" Lau adds, chuckling with a harmless grin.
"I thought I killed you too."

"Even I thought it was a little painful. I did not expect you to aim for my head so quickly," Sebastian complains softly, rubbing the spot where Lau must have struck.

I step forward, concern creasing my brow. "Are you okay?" I ask, reaching up to place my hand gently where he's rubbing.

His eyes widen at the touch, but a faint, feigned smile crosses his lips. "I am fine, my lady. Thank you for your concern."

I withdraw my hand with a simple nod.

"You just shoved all those swords in there without a second thought?!" Madam Red gasps, clearly shocked.

"What sort of trap was there then?" Lau asks, ignoring my aunt entirely.

Sebastian flashes a sideways smirk. "…Did I not say so before?" he replies evenly. "This is not a game, and there are no traps. That's all there is to it."

I mull over his words, feeling there's more hidden beneath the surface.

Suddenly, music swells again, and people begin to dance.

Madam Red and Lau step aside to make room for the couples moving gracefully around us.

I start to follow when Sebastian suddenly grabs my hand.

I turn back, curiosity flickering in my chest.

That same smirk is still on his lips. "My lady, would you care for a dance?" he asks.

I raise an eyebrow, suspicious. "Don't you need to keep an eye on my brother?"

"He has not called for me yet."

He pulls me toward him, and I look up at him in surprise. "Called for you?" I ask.

His smirk deepens as he places a hand on my waist and lifts our joined hands into the air.

I settle my free hand lightly on his shoulder, trying not to blush. "Do not worry. I will go when I know I need to." he assures me, though it only makes me more confused.

Sebastian begins the steps, and I follow mechanically, feeling like a puppet. The waltz is dull, but when a handsome man offers a dance, can you really refuse?

I hum along to the music as he sweeps us across the floor, weaving through the other couples.

"Why did you want to dance?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

This isn't like him.

"I believe we are to be secret lovers, are we not?" he points out casually.

I feel my cheeks flame with heat, my thoughts spiraling out of control. "R-Right! I-I forgot about that part." I stammer, clearing my throat. "You didn't have to act on it though."

He nods, spinning us around again. Somehow, I don't trip over my feet—I'm surprised I haven't stepped on him yet. "You looked like you wanted to dance earlier." he remarks.

Surprise twists in my mind. He was watching me?

That's a little creepy, but…also different.

Somehow, it makes me happy.

"…The young master was wondering why you weren't dancing with another." he adds quietly.

My brain almost melts at that. Ah…that explains it. But there's also a little sadness hiding there, the reason unknown.

My face must betray it, because Sebastian sends me a slightly concerned look—though I'm sure it's fake—before sighing theatrically.

"What is wrong?" he asks after a moment.

"...Nothing." I say, unsure myself what's wrong.

"You are lying." he states with a frown, more serious than usual.

I shake my head, reluctant to speak. "I can't say what I don't understand."

He seems to absorb my words thoughtfully.

Our dance flows easily, and when the music slows, he pulls me closer. I don't resist.

There's comfort in the closeness—probably the first time he's initiated contact like this.

We've never been physical before, and I find myself savoring it.

My head rests against his chest; he stiffens slightly, but I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

Something about this moment feels special, though I can't yet put it into words. I glance up at him and catch him staring blankly ahead. His expression is unreadable, and I wonder what's on his mind, as always.

As if sensing my gaze, his eyes flicker down to meet mine.

My head still resting on his chest, he looks down at me and mutters low enough for only me to hear, "My lady, you are quite a bad dancer."

I glare and swat his chest lightly. "Shut up."

His smirk widens, and I huff softly. I turn my gaze back out at the room, thoughts swirling wildly.

Despite everything, this isn't so bad.

The room spins gently with the music, our steps marking out a quiet, shared rhythm—our own little song.

Chapter Text

Papers fly. A crisp wake-up call—but I don't move. I don't open my eyes. It feels like I'm still only half-conscious. The voices are loud, too loud for this early hour, but my foggy brain can't latch onto a single word. It's my brother and Sebastian, I'm sure of it. Their tones are unmistakable. I stay perfectly still, feigning sleep. I'm too tired to get involved.

But then—one line slices through the haze.

"It was impossible for a human being."

Impossible…for a human? My thoughts snag on that phrasing, confusion clawing at my dazed mind. What kind of being would be able to do it then?

"Now I understand...you bastard..." Ciel growls from beside me.

"I have spoken the truth many times from the very beginning. Likewise, I have not remotely lied with respect to the results of our inquiry," Sebastian answers smoothly, his voice thick with smugness. "'Someone well-versed in medical science and anatomy.' 'Someone involved with a secret society or a cult of black magic.' And 'someone with no alibi on the nights of the murders.' The only human being who fulfills these conditions is the Viscount of Druitt."

A sharp crinkle—more paper thrown? Sebastian's just repeating things we already know. But something's off. He said the Viscount didn't kill the women himself.

Why emphasize "human being" like that? As if someone…wasn't?

Because humans are the only ones who can do this kind of thing...right?

"Indeed, you were telling the truth. However..." Ciel concedes, then snaps, "The inquiry was but a farce!" I hear the rustle of a paper snatched in frustration.

"I was simply following your orders, sir." Sebastian says.

Ciel growls low in his throat. Another rustle—he throws the paper, no doubt. "My, my. Are you taking your anger out on me?" Sebastian teases.

Oh, Sebastian. Always dancing on the edge, aren't you?

"Young master, I thought you kept me by your side knowing full well what I am like." Sebastian continues with infuriating calm.

"Shut up! I am well aware!" Ciel shouts.

I twitch at the volume—just enough to sell the illusion of sleep being disturbed.

"If you raise your voice any louder, my lady will awaken." Sebastian warns.

Well, too late for that.

I feel fingers brushing my hair—my brother's. "Don't worry, she sleeps like a log. Not even the servants can disturb her sleep." His voice is tired, but there's something fond beneath it. He's not wrong. I could sleep through a storm. But I haven't hit that deep sleep yet, not tonight.

He shifts on the mattress. "Is he...the same as you?" he asks next.

The same? Sebastian—like the killer?

Sebastian hums thoughtfully. "Hmm, no, he is not. I daresay someone like him being in the human world is unusual in and of itself but...He is neither a human nor a devil?"

My body stiffens under the covers. Human world? Devil? What the actual hell is he saying?

"Then, what is he?"

"He is a Grim Reaper..."

Grim Reaper.

Devil.

I think I'm going insane.

My brother isn't panicking. So he knows. He knows. And I...don't. My brain is racing. None of this is possible. There's no evidence, no science to back any of it up. This has to be some twisted dream. Or a hallucination.

They move. The bed dips—Ciel's getting up.

He and Sebastian continue talking as they dress and prepare to leave. When I hear the door click shut behind them, I shoot upright with a gasp and grab at my head. It's too much. Too fast. A migraine blooms behind my eyes.

No such things exist. Devils, grim reapers—it's all fantasy. Folklore. Myth. This can't be real.

Unless...I'm not in the past. What if I'm in some alternate world?

I shake my head hard. That's absurd. Utterly absurd.

I bolt from the bed and throw open the bedroom door. Screw subtlety. I slam it shut behind me and run to my room, yanking my robe off. There's just no way. Sure, Sebastian's always been impossible, but not inhuman. I pace, biting my thumb.

What if I'm not even on Earth anymore?

Science would've discovered another species by now—right? No creatures but humans, animals, microbes. That's what we were taught.

I scream. Fury erupts inside me and I punch the wall—hard. A sharp crack spiders through the plaster. I freeze, staring at the fracture in shock. I've always been unnaturally strong, but this… this is different.

Since Sebastian arrived, my senses have sharpened. I've grown faster, stronger. My muscles hum with tension as I lower my hand and stare at it.

What am I then? I'm not just a girl from the future anymore. Maybe I never was.

I rip open my wardrobe and dress with swift, practiced movements—bra, underwear, black slacks, and the dark dress shirt I bought from the men's shop in town. My coat goes on next, then my cap. If I'm going to get answers, I need to see everything with my own eyes.

I lace up my boots and tighten the straps on my sword. It hangs across my back like a purse, the hilt just visible over my shoulder. I clip my hair back and throw open the door again.

Time to move.

I run down the front steps and into the night. The sky is black and moody, the wind biting against my cheeks. My breath comes in silvered puffs. I know where they're headed—it's not far. Twenty minutes on foot, maybe. Running will get me there faster, and the exertion helps burn off the panic and adrenaline surging through me.

I've trained for this. For moments like this. I didn't stop training just because Sebastian showed up. My mission never changed. Keep my brother safe.

I won't fail again.

Even if Sebastian is stronger than me—supernatural even—I don't trust any of this. Not yet. What does a demon want with my brother? If he saved Ciel, what kind of deal did that entail? What price?

I slow down, panting. Rain starts to fall again, light at first. I don't stop. I press forward.

Then—an ear splitting scream tears through the air.

I freeze.

My pulse slams against my ears. The memories return, sharp and cruel—of the old manor, of blood, of loss. I double over, trying to breathe. This isn't then. This is now.

I force myself upright and jog toward the source. The migraine spikes again, white-hot behind my eyes.

Voices—close now. I follow the sound into a shadowed alleyway, pressing close to the wall. I blend into the darkness, heart pounding.

There they are.

Ciel. Sebastian.

And two others.

My aunt. Except...not her at the same time.

One of them—draped in red—is Grell. Hair dyed crimson. A swagger in the step. He's flamboyant, theatrical—different.

My eyes narrow. Those eyes. Not human.

Not even close.

"I miscalculated. I never imagined there would also be someone by Ciel's side who could see through Grell's disguise." Madam Red smirks slightly.

…She knew? She planned this? My chest clenches so sharply I have to grip the brick behind me to stay upright. A tear slides hot down my cheek. She and Grell—no, they did this. They killed all those women. And they betrayed us. Her own niece. Her own nephew. Oh god. My stomach lurches.

"Madam, was of course, on our initial list of suspects. But...your alibi was flawless." Ciel's voice is unreadable, flat. Madam Red mimics his expression perfectly.

Shock hits me like a slap, and I know it won't be the last time tonight. Eventually, I started doubting her. Guess Ciel got there first.

"How could you, Ciel? You went so far as to doubt me, your dear aunt?"

I narrow my eyes. That fake-sweet tone? The way she crosses her arms? She's playing the victim.

"If the possibility of one being Jack exists—kin or acquaintance—it matters not. No human on the list of suspects could have committed all the murders. Of course, that includes you, Madam. But it is a different story with a reaper as your accomplice. If he can enter Mary's room in an instant without us noticing...he would also be capable of instantly transporting himself over the lengthy distance between the West end and the East end. And if a servant were to disappear from the party for a matter of minutes...no one would pay any heed." Ciel doesn't even blink. "Therefore, only the two of you can be Jack the Ripper. Madam Red and Grell Sutcliff!"

My jaw drops. Ciel, you mini-Sherlock Holmes. I'm in awe. Maybe Sebastian's "tutoring" is paying off after all.

The accused stands silently, but Ciel keeps pressing. "The victims in the Jack the Ripper case had something else in common, on top of 'being prostitutes' and 'missing their wombs'. All of them underwent 'a certain procedure' at the Royal London Hospital, where the Madam is employed." He pulls out a sheet of paper and unfolds it. "This lists those patients in the order of their surgery dates. The order of which the victims were killed corresponds perfectly to the order in which they went under the knife. Only Mary Kelley, who resided in that tenement, was on that list to survive and 'still survive'."

His eyes flick to the open doorway, just for a second. That must be where Mary is now—slaughtered. "But still...I was unable to save her."

I cling to the wall, furious. She took everything out on those women. Punished them for having what she lost. For choosing to let it go. It's twisted. I understand pain, sure—but this? This is evil.

Madam Red stares at the ground, her voice low. "How sad, Ciel. My lovely nephew...my elder sister's son...If you hadn't insisted on getting to the bottom of this, we might've played chess again." Her hand clenches at her side. Then she shrieks, "However, I will not yield this time!"

I gasp, barely audible.

Grell rushes forward—something flashes. My instincts scream. Chainsaw. That's a freaking chainsaw. But Sebastian is faster, intercepting it between his bare palms.

He pushes Grell back with impossible force. I can't look away.

"Wh-What is this?!" Ciel shouts, confused.

Grell grins, sharp teeth bared, holding that demonic weapon steady. Sebastian's tone is calm, but I notice the edge in his eyes. "All reapers possess a tool for hunting souls. Though this is my first time seeing one that looks like that...it is known as the 'Death Scythe'." He slicks back his wet hair. "The death scythe is rather troublesome."

Death scythe. A chainsaw. Yeah, no, this world is not normal. Definitely supernatural Victorian nonsense confirmed.

My knees buckle. I sink to the ground, numb. My hands are pale-blue with cold, but I barely register it. What the hell kind of karma did I rack up in my past life?

"Something as unfashionable as a scythe wouldn't suit me in the least, don't you agree? So...I customized it to my specifications! A 'death scythe' jussst for me, which plays the grandest harmony together with the death throes of a soul!"

...Cool. Great. Just what I needed. More reasons to never sleep again.

"Of course, its sharpness is guaranteed. A tool that only a god like me can wield to chop anyone and anything into itty bitty pieces!"

And there goes my appetite for the next century.

"My body's gotten all stiff 'cos I've been a good little Grell this whole time! Now I sooo want to work up a sweat with y-o-u!" Grell blows Sebastian a kiss. I want to gag and laugh at the same time. Yeah, this reaper's definitely into men. I don't blame him though, I mean, look at Sebastian?

Sebastian doesn't flinch. "Would you mind refraining from such sickening displays? Furthermore, I am on duty at the present."

"Ahh!~ You're so stoic! I can't get enough of this side of you either, Sebastian darling!" Grell coos.

I bite my lip to stop a laugh. This is not the time. But the nickname...and Sebastian's face. I'm going to implode.

"Let me tell you a little something, Sebastian darling—the color red makes me swoon..." Grell goes on about blood, beauty, and death like they're interchangeable. "...I will cut you open deep and splatter you in all the many shades of crimson and mess you up most glamorously, Sebastian darling! ~"

Okay, nope. Amusement over. That was horrifying.

Sebastian still looks bored. "A reaper is one who quietly hunts the souls of the dying. A butler is one who accompanies his master like a shadow. Your poor taste goes against the aesthetics of both and fair raises my bile."

Damn. That was cold. Even I winced.

"I worked hard as a butler for my master! I didn't wear makeup or dress pretty when I was at work!"

Wow. So brave. Give this man a trophy.

"I am appalled, how can you call yourself a butler?" Sebastian sighs.

Grell's response is a manic grin, tongue out, flashing the devil horns with one hand and gripping the chainsaw in the other. "Even so, I am still a butler for death!"

"In the name of the Queen and my own evil title..." Ciel removes his eyepatch. My breath catches as it drops to the ground—his eye glows softly, a pink pentagram blazing. "...I command you! Hunt them down!"

I slap a hand over my mouth. Sebastian's eyes...they glow red. His pupils shift, feline. That smirk. That presence. No way. Those are the exact eyes from my dreams. The man from my visions...it's been Sebastian all along?!

Oh god. What does that mean?

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian bites his glove, teeth sharp, tightening the fit as his eyes gleam. His smirk deepens.

I freeze. Shocked. Speechless. My mind spirals. Those dreams...they weren't dreams at all?

"Alright." Sebastian begins unbuttoning his coat and hands it to Ciel.

"What—" Ciel starts to ask, but Sebastian cuts in smoothly.

"So that your body won't become so cold. When we return to the mansion, I'll prepare some hot milk for you. I'll add honey or brandy to sweeten it."

Ciel says nothing, but Grell revs the chainsaw again. "Oya!~ I won't let you go so easily! Lately, I've only been encountering unsophisticated prey. My death scythe and I are unsatisfied!"

Grell leaps impossibly high. I crane my neck to track him. He slams down like a meteor, Sebastian barely managing to shove Ciel out of harm's way.

Stone shatters around them.

"If I am the one to be hunted down, then I'd rather be the one doing the hunting, little Sebast! Let us play a wonderful hide and seek!"

He charges. Sebastian dodges effortlessly, flipping backward on one hand, landing clean. Again. And again. Creating space.

"Don't be like that! I'm sure you'll become addicted to the taste of my 'God's scythe.'"

Grell rushes again—and Sebastian rips a lamppost from the pavement. Like it's nothing.

He raises it to block the blow. I gape. He's not just fast—he's inhuman.

"Oh! You're quite the man, little Sebast!" Grell exclaims, delighted. The chainsaw grinds against the pole. "However, this is the real beginning of the show! If you get struck by my 'God's scythe', that lamppost you have in your hands...would be no different from a tree branch!"

CRACK. The pole snaps. Metal splits like twigs. The scythe rips through—Sebastian's wounded.

Blood sprays. But then...something else?

I blink. There's film coming from the gash. Like actual movie reels. Spilling out of him.

Footage plays—servants, Ciel, even...me? What the hell?

Sebastian stumbles back, clutching his side, not in pain exactly, but rattled.

"...How is it?" Grell asks. "It's filled with dramatic pain, isn't it? That was the power of the death gods, 'Cinematic Record'."

Cinematic Record...huh. I stare, stunned. What the hell kind of world have I landed in?

"Death Gods can use 'Cinematic Record' to relive memories of those on the to-die list for assessment. What kind of person is he? What kind of life had he lived? Whether to let him live on? Or to kill them?" Grell continues his line of theoretical questioning. "The general saying that one's life flashes before their eyes just prior to death, that is just the death god replaying the humans' memories. We will use our scythe to sever the link between his memories and his soul, and this is how we 'end' his life."

I absorb the information, trying to piece it together. It's such a strange, clinical way to define dying. Morbid, sure—but oddly poetic too. A flickering of one's life across a celestial screen.

Still, I can't help but cringe at the idea of someone else, especially someone like him, poking around in my most intimate memories while I'm dying. A stranger rifling through everything I ever was? No thanks. That's a hard pass. Grim Reapers aren't supposed to be voyeurs.

"I think that is just a terrible interest, and this sort of spying activity...is really the worst," Sebastian says, his tone completely indifferent.

Wow. I actually agree with a demon. What a day...

Grell lunges again out of nowhere. "No, no! This is work, but...!"

"Right." Sebastian reacts instantly, having anticipated the strike. He shifts to the side in a clean, fluid motion, flipping to avoid the chainsaw's vicious arc. I mentally cheer—if he dies, I'm as good as dead.

No way I could take on that chainsaw-wielding maniac alone. Sebastian lands in a crouch, skidding slightly.

"A good man's past makes people curious!" Grell beams.

Sebastian's back is still turned when Grell seizes the moment and rushes forward, his speed impossible to follow. One second he's at a distance, the next he's right there, and Sebastian whirls with wide eyes, catching the flat sides of the rotating blade. He steps backward quickly, forced toward a corner, the blade whining in protest. I can tell it's taking real effort to hold Grell off—he's pushing with everything he has.

"It's been boring trying to find humans to play hide and seek with me, little Sebast!" Grell cackles as he drives the blade deeper. Sparks fly as the weapon scrapes brick. "Once struck by the 'God's scythe', regardless of memories, soul, or space. Even if it's a demon, it'll be sliced!"

Sebastian's eyes glow again in the dark—subtle, haunting.

I look away, forcing myself not to stare. If I do, I'll fall into them and never crawl out. Just as I look down the hall, I catch something that makes my stomach lurch—Ciel, talking to our aunt.

"Why..." Ciel begins, voice low.

"Why? You're asking me now, how do you expect me to answer?" she says with a dry smirk, arms crossed. "If you and I have become 'guard dog' and 'sinner'..." Her hand shifts. My eyes widen. She's grabbing something.

Without thinking, I move.

I sprint from my hiding place, flying past the brawl between Grell and Sebastian. I've trained for this. I live for this.

For the moment my brother might finally need me—not just as his ward, but as his shield.

"If you weren't a guard dog of this place and became the hunted one instead..." Her voice darkens into something raw. I'm nearly there, time crawling, every step an eternity.

"...then there would only be one path for you!" she shrieks, lunging at him with the knife drawn.

Before the blade touches him, I'm there—grabbing her wrist, halting the motion with my full weight. Ciel's eyes fly wide when he sees me.

"Auntie! Just stop!" I yell, eyes stinging with tears.

She whirls, startled by my presence. Then rage warps her features. She swings her other hand to slap me, but I catch that too, gripping both her wrists as tightly as I can. Her sneer burns into me.

How dare she? After all we've been through?

"As a doctor, why did you have to murder people?!" Ciel demands. My grip tightens, bruising. She stops struggling at his words.

"Even if I told a little brat like you, you would never understand!" she screams—and suddenly throws her body into mine.

The impact knocks me flat. Pain flares up my back and I lose my hold. She tears away and grabs Ciel by the throat.

"You would never understand!" she repeats, sobbing and shrill.

I scramble up and rush her from behind. My fingers clamp around her wrist and force her hand away from him. He coughs, gasping for air. Her face snaps toward me in fury.

"You! You! Are always getting in the way of everything!" she hisses. "I don't know why he took you in! Just die!"

She lunges again with the knife—but I feel nothing. No fear. I just stare, caught in a trance, weighed down by hurt. Her eyes flicker. Hesitation?

"Rina!" Ciel cries. "Sebast—"

Her hands rise to her face. The knife clatters to the ground.

Then, Sebastian's voice—sharp and heavy—cuts through the night.

"My lady! Young master!"

I feel him before I see him. Blood splatters somewhere behind me. The air twists. It's like being swallowed by that dark void from my dreams. I don't need to look—Ciel's face tells me enough.

"STOP IT, SEBASTIAN!" Ciel orders, panicked. "Don't kill her!"

I turn. Sebastian's hand hovers over Madam Red's head. His nails shorten, returning to a human shape. Blood coats his body. His chest heaves, and he's clutching his shoulder tightly.

"Sebastian..." I whisper, scanning for deeper wounds.

He meets my eyes, breathing ragged.

Grell's voice slithers back into the moment, making me jump. I forgot he was still here. "Heh! Little Sebast's endurance is pretty good! ~" he giggles.

I pale at the sound of his laughter.

"His arm was already useless, but he still had to go help these little brats!" Grell laughs cruelly, retrieving the scythe from the brick. "Compared to that, what do you have to say for yourself, Madam Red?"

She flinches. I want to hate her, but I can't. I still care, damn it. She curls in on herself like she's trying to disappear.

"Kill that brat already!" Grell urges, taking a step toward us.

Madam Red shakes her head, whispering, "Can't..."

"Eh?"

"So, I really couldn't do it..." Her voice cracks. Her hand grips her chest like it physically hurts. "I can't...kill these...children."

Ciel and I both freeze.

"You're saying this now? After killing so many women?" Grell hisses. She trembles violently.

"If you don't kill these little brats, it'll be your turn to be killed!" he warns. "And you have the help of a death god helping you too!"

Her fists clench. She shakes her head. "But," she breathes. "But! These children are my..."

And then—Grell's blade pierces her.

I see the moment the steel breaks skin. Blood arcs like water from a fountain, painting the air red. She crumples. The chainsaw pulls free from her ruined body.

I stare, frozen, as Grell smiles over her fallen form.

"How disappointing, Madam Red," he sneers. "I am no longer interested in an ordinary woman like you."

Blood drips from her mouth. Her body trembles, then stills. My mind shatters. A thin film rises from her chest—her life. It unspools in the air like Sebastian's had. I hear her thoughts. I see her pain.

So much of it I knew. But not the obsession. Not the loneliness.

Not the weight of loving someone who would never be hers.

Tears burn down my face. She wasn't evil. She was just tired—tired of losing, of wanting, of breaking. Her actions were unforgivable. But her pain...I understood it.

"I love the way you are being dyed by the red blood spurting out, Madam Red!" Grell cackles, snapping me from my thoughts.

I stare blankly. He keeps going.

"I am not interested in you who got carried away by meaningless emotions," he spits. He flicks her blood from the scythe, disgusted. "I helped you create alibis, just for you, I broke the rules of Death Gods and even helped you kill those women not on the death list. You have disappointed me!"

The rage builds.

"In the end, you are no different from ordinary women!" He rips her red coat from her cooling body, mocking her. "You are not fit to wear red. The curtains of this cheap, theatre act of your life falls now! Goodbye, Madame!"

He drapes her coat over himself like a trophy.

"Sebastian...what are you doing?" Ciel murmurs.

I'm not listening. My heart pounds so loud, it drowns out everything else. This...this is malice. Pure and furious.

My fingers wrap around the hilt of my sword.

"Like I said, take down 'Jack the Ripper,'" Ciel says behind me. "It's not over yet! Don't hesitate! Hurry up and finish him!"

My eyes lock on Grell's retreating back. I draw my blade, fury rushing in my veins like lightning. He won't get away with this. He won't mock her death.

I smirk as I dash forward. I don't know how, but my body moves effortlessly, light and fast.

I draw my sword mid-sprint and leap, aiming the tip straight for Grell's skull. His head snaps up, and for the first time—I see fear.

I will make him suffer.

Even if it kills me.

Chapter Text

Grell smirks wildly and whips his scythe out—just in time. I twist in midair, barely dodging the blade, and land a few feet away, boots scraping the rooftop. I click my tongue, annoyed. This is going to be harder than I thought.

"Did you actually think you could get a hit on me?!" Grell shrieks.

My glare sharpens. I don't like how smug he sounds. Then again, why wouldn't he be? He's only facing a human.

Suddenly, Sebastian appears at my side, arm outstretched to shield me.

"My lady, I suggest you wait with the young master."

I frown and push his arm aside. "I don't plan to be protected." I say, resting my sword casually on my shoulder like it weighs nothing.

Sebastian sighs, patient but firm. "He may appear dimwitted, but he can kill you by simply raising a finger."

"So what? If I die, then oh well. I want to kill this bastard." I snap, knuckles whitening around the hilt.

"...Very well."

Loose strands of hair fall in front of my eyes from the jump—I blow them out of the way. Somehow, my hat's still clinging to my head. Small miracles.

"Are you two ignoring me?!" Grell huffs, visibly pouting. "I actually wanted to let you off since I lost the momentum." He flips his long crimson hair. "However, since the three of you want to die so much...I shall send you both to heaven!" he howls, revving the chainsaw.

He charges again.

I duck low; Sebastian mirrors me. We split in opposite directions around Grell. Sebastian glides backward like he's skating. I'm forced into a series of backflips to retreat—I don't have that slippery demon grace, unfortunately.

"Heaven?" Sebastian muses, lifting a large wooden crate. "I don't have an affinity with that place."

"I don't think I'd be accepted with open arms," I mutter, genuinely wondering. I've never believed in higher powers. Never had reason to.

Sebastian hurls the crate. Grell slices it clean in two. "I'm in a bad mood right now! I won't go easy on you!" he yells through the splintered remains.

Sebastian's already shifted—closing in from behind the scythe's arc. He aims to perch on top of the thing. Grell senses the shift or realizes Sebastian's not where he used to be.

I seize the distraction and sprint at Grell's back. Sebastian notices me with a glance but moves first—going for a kick to the face.

I stop short, frustrated. So that's how it's going to be. He's keeping me back—on purpose.

Grell dodges, bending away from the attack. He lands a few paces away, scowling. "Wait a moment, you aimed for my face on purpose! You are not human!"

Sebastian smirks. "That's right. I am simply one hell of a butler."

I have to bite the inside of my cheek so as not to smile. He's using my catchphrase? I'll let that stroke my ego for now.

"Tsk! Do you really think that a demon can win against a God?"

"I've seen enough TV shows and movies to know the odds are usually fifty-fifty." I mutter, flicking my sword against my shoulder.

A beat of silence. Yeah...they wouldn't get that.

"What do you think? I myself do not know since I have never tried it before." Sebastian ponders, ignoring me. "However, since my master wants me to win, I WILL win."

"I don't really know the relationship between you and that brat, but you two complement each other well, right? I'm jealous!" Grell swoons. "However, even if you are a demon, you will perish once critically hit by my Death God's scythe! Aren't you scared?"

Scared? Sebastian? I almost laugh.

"Not one bit," he replies coolly, a hand over his chest. "Currently, everything of mine belongs to my master—my body, my soul, even every single strand of my hair. Following his orders, as long as the contract is still in place, is the art of being a butler."

Shock ripples through me. A contract...My brother's in a contract with a demon. Why? What could Sebastian possibly gain from all this?

"If he does not want me to die, then I won't die. If he wishes for my death, then I will disappear."

So much control. I grit my teeth. Oh, we are definitely talking after this.

"Oh, I love men who pursue the Arts, little Sebast!~ I'm going to use the heels of my shoes to step on this cold, uncaring face of yours!" Grell squeals, lunging with a grin. He swings; Sebastian dodges effortlessly.

"I want you to lick my shoes clean!" Grell shouts.

My face contorts. Gross. He's still soaked in Mary's blood. I shift a few steps away from them. I want to fight—I burn to—but I can't match that level. Not really. The jump earlier had been all instinct.

"A demon and a Death God!" Grell crows. "Apparently, we are unable to reach a mutual understanding. If the job of a Death God is to recover all the souls of the dead..." Grell dodges Sebastian's incoming kick, landing hard. "...then demons can be likened to the pests that snatch these souls away just for the sake of devouring them!"

My face drains. He...eats souls?! What the hell?! All those times I mouthed off to him—he could've ended me and gobbled me up like a snack. My stomach knots.

"...no matter how much love I put in, it won't bear fruit, it's like..." Grell continues, leaping again. Sebastian mirrors him. "The tragic love story of Romeo and Juliet!"

I gag. "Ew. That is so, so wrong," I mutter, face scrunching in horror.

Sebastian looks mildly appalled, too, but the moon behind them makes it surreal—like some grotesque ballet.

Grell backflips even higher. "You and I shall be the cast in this show! I think even Shakespeare would be in awe! Ah! ~ Little Sebast! Why are you little Sebas?"

Sebastian creeps closer mid-air, every movement fluid and deliberate. He lashes out with another kick. "That sentence became the newly formed contract." Grell dodges. "All it takes is that one sentence. From the time when master addressed me as 'Sebastian'."

They land on the rooftop—right near my old hiding spot. I freeze. Sebastian...isn't even his real name. I glance toward my brother and snort under my breath. He named a demon after our childhood dog. Seriously?

I move closer, wanting to hear more, but even with my sharp hearing, the rain and my own spiraling thoughts drown out their voices.

Ciel doesn't move, his cold gaze locked on the battle. I pause near Madam Red's body and glance down. I've seen death before—but this is fresh. It's been two years since I lost family. My chest tightens.

Tears sting. I force them back. This isn't the time. But god, I've always been a crybaby.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and breathe shakily. She did terrible things. But she was still...my aunt. A brief mother figure. Thinking that alone brings the tears again—I turn away.

I'm shaking. I feel it all the way down. Holding this grief hurts.

The grind of metal rips through the air. I look up sharply—Sebastian's bleeding again. More blood gushes from him. My eyes widen. No! What the hell is he doing?! Grell yells in frustration, and Sebastian swings again—but Grell dodges, dancing away.

Is Sebastian in pain?

Suddenly, Sebastian shrugs off his tailcoat and wipes his mouth. His eyes glow faintly now. That alone makes me nervous. They clash again, launching upward—Sebastian wielding his bundled coat like a weapon. What is he going to do with that—

He jams the coat into the teeth of the chainsaw. It stalls immediately. I bark out a laugh. Okay, that was genius.

Grell tugs, sitting on the ground, furious—but it's stuck. Sebastian walks toward him with terrifying calm, looming.

Then he pummels Grell. Brutally.

When Grell's face is nothing but swelling and bruises, Sebastian kicks him down—right near us. The dirt kicks up in a cloud. He lands effortlessly, holding the scythe, soaked in blood, smirking like the devil himself.

"Oh my, you really can't be beaten to death? You're really befitting your title as a Death God." Sebastian jeers. "What if I use 'this'?" He gestures with the scythe.

Grell panics immediately. Sebastian rips his coat from the blade and revs it. "The Death Scythe can slice through everything. In other words, Death Gods themselves are not exempted."

Grell scrambles back, trembling. I smirk, watching him writhe like the worm he is.

"What...are you thinking of doing...Stop it!"

Sebastian stomps on his face, pinning him.

"Even though I do dislike being kicked by others, I do enjoy the feeling of kicking others."

"It HURTS! AHHH!"

"The sounds of you crying in pain is pretty good on the ears."

Holy hell. I knew he was sadistic, but this? It's kind of...hot. Apparently, I'm a bit sadistic too—because I want Grell to suffer.

"Sebast...ahh..."

"As a reward, I shall send you on your way, using the toy you like so much!"

"No...don't. Please, please little Sebas, I beg you...stop it!"

"No, I don't want to."

I chuckle darkly and step closer, eyes glittering.

"Sebastian…"

I chuckle with an evil glint in my eyes, "Sebastian, make sure he bleeds all over. I won't be satisfied until he does."

Sebastian gains a deadly smirk and his eyes glow their true nature slightly, that it almost makes me blush at the combo. He looks absolutely hot as fuck when he's about to kill someone I think in a daze as he lifts the chainsaw above his head.

Hold up, what did I just think? I wonder in confusion. This is not the time to be admiring someone! What the hell brain?! There's nothing sexy about Sebastian murdering a delusional Grell!

"With pleasure, my lady," Sebastian rumbles deeply, and my heart skips a beat at the sound.

"Stop..." Grell tries to defend himself. The rotating blade comes closer to his chest, and I watch with anticipation. "Stop it! AHHHH!" Grell screams, his green eyes wide with panic.

Before Sebastian can bring it down fully, a random metal pole intervenes. Whatever trance I was in dissolves, replaced by confusion. A pole? I think, following its length to a rooftop where a man stands, holding it. Sebastian lifts his foot off Grell, his posture shifting as if he's preparing for an attack.

We all look up, surprised by the sudden appearance of the figure. Grell lets out a noise, somewhere between relief and happiness, at seeing the man.

"Sorry to interrupt your conversation," the man speaks, adjusting his glasses. He retracts the pole, and I finally realize it's a garden pruner. What is up with these death scythes? He holds a book under his other arm. "I am William T. Spears of the Dispatch Management Division of Death Gods. I am here to pick up this Death God." He says, expressionless.

"William! William! You're here to save me..." Grell shouts with an exaggerated grin, despite his battered face.

The man abruptly jumps down from the rooftop, landing with a heavy crunch on Grell's head.

I wince, imagining the pain. The ground splinters under the force of his landing. "Dispatch member Grell Sutcliff, you have broken the rules," William announces, opening the book he carries. "Firstly, you have killed people whose names are not on the Death List," he states, then kicks Grell's head into the ground. Grell groans in pain. "...and you used your scythe without permission, even modified it without following proper procedures."

William continues to bash Grell's head further into the dirt. I watch, exasperated.

"Will...AH!" Grell protests, his voice full of undeniable pain.

"Please return to the main branch to submit your reflection letter and report." William continues reading, as if he's simply following procedure. He grabs a handful of Grell's red hair and drags him across the ground, walking away from us.

"Hey! Wait a moment! I was almost killed just now!" Grell protests from the ground, his face scraping along the dirt. "You're so cold and unfeeling!"

William whips Grell over his shoulder, slamming him back onto the ground with a crack. "Shut up!" William snaps, irritation evident in his voice.

I can't help but laugh internally. Grell totally deserves this and more.

William turns to us, releasing Grell momentarily, and walks up to Sebastian. "This thing has caused you a lot of trouble this time round." William says, bowing slightly while handing Sebastian a business card. Sebastian seems at a loss for words, but he accepts it.

I take the card from Sebastian's hand, curiosity piquing. It's simple—just his name and the name of his organization. No address or contact details, which makes sense for someone living in heaven, I suppose.

"Really..." William mutters, his gaze cold as he looks Sebastian up and down. "I actually have to bow to a creature like you, who only brings harm. Even if you tarnish the Death God's reputation, there's a limit." He sneers.

Wow. Talk about biased. Demons bring harm? So do humans and, evidently, grim reapers. What an ass. I flick the card behind me with a huff, nose in the air.

"In that case, please keep a close eye on him, so as not to trouble a harmful creature like me," Sebastian responds with a smile. "Humans cannot reject temptation. When they're plunged into the depths of despair, they'll cling to anything that can pull them out, even if it's just a spider's thread. No matter what kind of humans they are." His voice is devious.

I stare at him, dumbfounded. I can't deny the truth in his words. But there's no harm in wanting to survive, is there?

"Demons are the ones who poke fun at humans before draining whatever they can from them as a means of survival. Am I right?" William observes, adjusting his glasses. His gaze flickers briefly to me, as if he hadn't noticed me before. His eyes widen slightly after a moment of studying me. "You. What are you?" he asks, disturbed.

I tilt my head in confusion. "Er, a human, if that's what you mean."

"But that's impossible. You don't have any..." he starts, but Sebastian steps in front of me, a sharp glare cutting William off. I stare at Sebastian in surprise.

Why did he do that? Did I look that different? I glance down at myself, unsure.

William narrows his eyes at Sebastian, then turns and walks back to Grell. "...Alright, let's go, Grell Sutcliff," he mutters, grabbing Grell by the hair again and dragging him away. "This is troublesome. We're already short-staffed. I wonder if I'll even get to leave on time today."

Sebastian raises Grell's death scythe in his hand, which I'd completely forgotten about. He throws it at William with lightning speed. It flies so fast that it almost blurs in the air.

My eyes widen in shock when William catches it with only two fingers, just near the side of his head. The scythe wobbles slightly in his grip, the force of the throw still affecting it.

William glares at Sebastian. Sebastian mirrors the glare, unbothered. "You left this behind," he says with a fake smile.

"Thank you. In that case, I shall take my leave." William acknowledges, dragging Grell away down a dark alley.

I turn to my brother, unsure of how to feel about everything that's just happened. My mind is still a whirlwind of thoughts, but I push them down for now, focusing on staying sane, if only for a moment.

I walk to my brother's side, feeling a little comforted by his presence, despite everything.

"My apologies, I allowed the other one to escape," Sebastian says, bowing slightly toward Ciel.

"Forget it." Ciel mutters, still kneeling next to our aunt's body. His voice is hollow, detached. My heart clenches at the sound. "It's not important anymore."

The weight of the night settles over me. We both stare at our aunt's lifeless form, our gazes empty.

Sebastian gently touches Ciel's cheek with his blood-stained gloves. "Your body's cold. Let's get back to the mansion. I'll prepare some hot milk for you, as promised," Sebastian offers, his smile soft.

Ciel looks up at Sebastian, his eyes a little hooded. Sebastian's hand drifts away from his cheek, and my brother finally responds, "I guess you're right."

Ciel slowly stands, wincing as he rises. He stumbles, but I'm already reaching out for him, only for Sebastian to beat me to it.

"Young master!" Sebastian exclaims.

Ciel swats Sebastian's hand away, a stern look on his face as he steadies himself. "Young mas—" Sebastian starts, but my brother cuts him off.

"There's no need for you to support me," Ciel mutters, his expression downcast. "It's fine. I can stand by myself."

A tear slips down my cheek at his words.

I know for a fact he's just putting on a brave face, like I've done for him countless times, even now. Even now, I'm struggling to hold it together. I refuse to let my brother—or Sebastian—see me falter. No matter how much my mind screams for release.

We both look at our aunt's body again, and Ciel continues, his voice thick with weariness, "I just...feel a little tired. That's all."

0o0o0o0o

I've never felt such a tense, oppressive atmosphere with my brother or Sebastian before. Sebastian practically ran us to the townhouse, and we arrived in a matter of minutes. It should've been fun, if the circumstances were better.

The trip inside the townhouse was silent, and my brother didn't spare me a glance the entire way.

He headed straight for his bedroom when we got inside. I wanted to say something—comfort him—but I knew it would be pointless. I'd just get yelled at or belittled. It would make me feel like I'd failed him, like I always do.

Sebastian disappeared the moment we came inside as well, probably to tend to his wounds or change or whatever it is demons do.

I decide to retreat to my own room, my mind swirling with too many thoughts.

Shutting the door behind me, I face my reflection in the mirror. I look like a mess. My hair's tangled, blood from Aunt's wound streaks my face, and my clothes are filthy. I sigh, removing my hat and setting it down. I take the clip out of my hair, then strip off my clothes and head to the bathroom.

After a long, relaxing bath, I lay back in the water, staring at the ceiling. My mind refuses to rest; I know I won't sleep for the next few nights. So much happened tonight. It's almost painful to process.

Supernatural beings are real. Religion isn't a farce. I'm probably from another world, an alternate Earth, maybe. My aunt is dead...

I let out a deep sigh and sink further into the tub. The water's starting to go lukewarm, so I decide to get out. The droplets run off my body as I stand on the rug. I grab a fluffy white towel, bury my face in it, and inhale deeply. Laundry detergent. I smile softly. I wring out my hair into the towel, grab another towel, and wrap it around my body, draping the first one over my shoulders.

I drain the tub, step out, and head back to my bedroom.

I search for my nightgown and toss it on before crawling into bed. Once settled, I sigh in relief. But I know better than to think I can sleep. The grief is there, but it's the confusion, curiosity, and simmering anger that plague me more.

I sit against the headboard, the book beside me, but I can't focus on the words. My mind is elsewhere.

Then a knock at the door surprises me. My eyes swivel toward the sound. I already have a feeling who it is. I don't want to talk to him.

"My lady? May I come in?" Sebastian asks from the other side of the door.

Hmm, to let the demon in or not...

I sigh, eventually giving in. "Yes." I answer.

The door creaks as it opens, and Sebastian steps inside, his face devoid of any emotion. He shuts the door quietly behind him.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, stopping by my mirror stand.

I cross my arms. "I can't tell if that's fake concern or if you're genuinely curious."

He glances at me sideways. "I was merely being polite."

...What an asshole. Good to know that hasn't changed.

"So, tell me," I continue, "what's the purpose of visiting me so late?"

His lips curl into a smirk. "I believe you know the answer to that question."

I sigh heavily, running a hand through my hair. "Unfortunately…" I mumble.

"I'm...surprised," he trails off, narrowing his eyes as his smirk fades into a frown.

That catches me off guard. I raise an eyebrow. "About what?"

In the blink of an eye, he's at my side, and I have to stop myself from scooting away in shock. "That you don't reek of fear or disgust. The fact that you know what I am, yet you don't tremble."

I fall silent, unsure what to make of his observation. "Well, I'm no ordinary human, I suppose."

"You are correct."

I gulp nervously, clenching the bedsheets. "I fear something more than just you right now." I glance at the wall, avoiding his gaze.

"What could be more frightening than a demon?"

I look back at him, and his eyes glow with their demonic hue. The words I was about to say vanish from my mind as I become lost in those captivating orbs. I can't hear my own breathing. It's like everything else fades away. And yet, in those eyes, I can sense confusion, curiosity... and maybe even frustration.

He continues to show his true eyes, staring at me in a trance of his own.

"...my very own," I mutter—barely realizing the words have left my lips.

He leans in slightly, close enough that I can feel the breath between us. I should pull back, but I don't. I can't. It's like he has cast some invisible spell over me, and I am helpless to resist.

"And what kind is that?" he whispers, voice low and close.

The question lingers, but no answer comes easily. My eyes sting with the threat of tears—I swallow them down.

"My...my own treacherous thoughts."

He hums, thoughtful, as though weighing something far greater than my reply.

"Do I still not scare you with these eyes?" he asks, sudden and soft.

I shake my head. "No. I find them rather peculiar, actually. In fact, I would say I am obsessed with them."

He tenses. Just slightly—but I catch it. The sharp glint in his eyes fades, shifting back to amber brown. I feel a quiet pang of disappointment at their disappearance, but I don't let it show. Instead, I breathe out, steadying myself, breaking the strange trance between us. He pulls back a bit, like he's just remembered to keep his distance.

"Obsessed...I have never heard such a thing."

I hesitate. Should I tell him about the dreams? About the eyes that burn behind my lids at night? But before I can speak, he cuts in.

"You are the strangest human being I have ever had the pleasure of encountering."

"Glad to be of service?" I shoot back, voice tinged with sarcasm. Then, more curious than bitter: "Do humans naturally disgust you?"

"Yes, as well as other holy beings—even my own kind," he answers, casting a withering glance at the bed. I raise a brow, intrigued, and he continues, "...but humans are rather entertaining. Such as the young master, for example."

I hum, pretending to think it over. My lips purse. "Including me too, then?"

His gaze glints with amusement. "Yes, you as well."

I smile faintly and settle down onto the mattress, resting my head on the pillow. Without a word, I pat the space by my legs, inviting him to sit. He sighs, long and theatrical, but does as I ask—as if it's somehow a burden.

"Do be warned," he says, tone shifting, darker, "a demon who finds an interest in a human is a concern."

"I trust you enough to know you won't hurt me," I point out easily.

He looks down at me, and something flickers in his eyes—an emotion I can't quite name.

"You take the matter lightly. To trust a demon is very dangerous to do. Especially if I am not harming you from an order the young master has given me."

I stare at him, letting my smile warm. "Sebastian, I know you will not hurt me unless you are told to do so."

His eyes narrow. "How do you know? I could snap your neck easily; it would not be the first time I have done it to someone who once put their trust in me."

I sigh through my nose. I don't know why I trust him—can't explain it. But the feeling is there, steady and unshakable, nestled somewhere deep inside me. On a whim, I raise my hand, fingers spread like I'm asking for a high five. I wiggle them, waiting.

He stares at me like I've grown another head, but eventually, he lifts his own hand, placing it gently against mine. I wrap my fingers around his. He doesn't return the gesture—just watches. Carefully. Quietly.

"But people are different, right?" I murmur. "I'm a different person compared to the past and the future versions of myself, right? Some people grow. Some wither. That's life. If I choose to trust someone, I will. I can't take that trust away until it's broken. Who knows? You'll probably break mine someday. My brother broke it tonight. It'll take time to heal. But I still care for him. And I know he still cares too."

My voice dips lower, unsure but honest. "Sebastian...I don't know if you've ever had a friend before. I know you eat people—my kind. I have a feeling that's tied to your contract with my brother."

The lump rises again in my throat. I swallow hard.

"But what's the harm in creating a companionship?"

I already see him as one. A friend. Something more than just a 'demon' or 'servant.' But he doesn't know that. Not yet. And I can't blame him for Ciel's decision—the soul was never his to refuse. Still...I'm angry. Furious. But I push the thought away.

Sebastian watches me, wide-eyed, a faint glow returning to those impossible eyes. Then a smile lifts the corner of his lips.

"My lady, you never cease to surprise me. A feat in itself." His hand tightens around mine. He brings our joined hands up to his lips and kisses the place where our fingers meet. "I believe I have cautioned you already. If you still want to form this 'companionship,' I do believe I will have to comply, as I am curious about the outcome."

Heat blooms across my cheeks. I smile, heart hammering.

"I do believe we have a compromise then, Sebas," I tease with a smirk.

"Please refrain from calling me that despicable name," he grumbles, brows twitching—and I can't help but giggle.

Is it safe to offer this kind of vulnerability to a demon? Probably not. But if regret is coming, I'll deal with it when it does.

Right now, being on a demon's good side feels far better than the alternative.

Chapter Text

It's well into late morning when the carriage rolls through London's quieter streets. We're en route to my aunt's funeral. The Yard recovered her body alongside Mary's just yesterday, and Undertaker prepared her for today's showing.

A crimson dress rests beside Ciel's seat, its bold color a wound to my eyes. I stare at it without blinking. I don't think I can stand red anymore. It's too loud, too full of blood and grief—too much like her.

My brother stares out the window, unmoving. Sebastian, as always, drives us in silence. Ciel and I haven't spoken since yesterday. I spent the entire night trying to think of what to say to him. I didn't sleep. Not even a minute.

He gave me a passing glance when we left the manor, but nothing more.

I wring my hands in my lap, fingers twisting into themselves. Words form on the tip of my tongue and scatter like frightened birds the second I part my lips.

The sky is clear, deceptively bright. The light doesn't reach us where it matters. I flick my eyes toward the window and watch the scenery pass. A tune floats into my mind unbidden, the kind of song you'd hum just to remember you're still here. I mouth the lyrics silently and let the melody hum low in my throat.

Ciel's dark blue eye shifts to look at me. I meet his gaze and smile—soft, sad, and bitter beneath the surface. I'm still angry at him, but today...today, I'll let him be. Today isn't for rage.

He stares at me flatly, a mask over whatever storm might be underneath. Then, without a word, he looks away.

My hand tightens into a fist.

I wonder what this changes. If knowing one of his secrets brings us closer or widens the space between us. I don't want to be left behind again. I don't want to sit in the dark, locked out of every door. It hurts.

As we descend deeper into the city, familiar buildings rise on either side. I don't know what time it is, but I know we're late. Still, Sebastian brings the carriage to a clean stop in front of the church. I wait for him to come around to the door. When he does, he opens it smoothly, one gloved hand extended toward me.

I gather the folds of my black mourning dress and step down, with his help.

The interior is already packed. People shuffle between pews. At the far end of the church, I catch sight of Elizabeth near Madam Red's body, which lies atop an altar.

I remain at the threshold, rooted by instinct. I don't like churches. Never have. Especially not now.

The woman lying inside that casket—she helped raise me. Knew me better than anyone outside the Midford family or Ciel. Her presence was always a constant. Now she's a memory.

Ciel descends next, still carrying that red dress over one shoulder. He strides past me without a glance, drawing attention as soon as he enters. Whispers flare around the room, most of them directed at the dress.

Sebastian remains beside me as we both watch Ciel walk forward.

"My lady, will you not go in?" he asks, voice low.

I watch Ciel reach the altar and gently drape the crimson fabric across her body. "...No. I don't really like churches."

"Any particular reason?" he murmurs, careful with the question.

I shrug, arms folding around myself. "They make me feel weird," I mutter. "Plus…I don't need to see her to know she's gone forever."

Petals begin to scatter on the wind—red rose petals, drifting like blood-tinged snowflakes into the church. It's beautiful. It's exactly what she would've wanted, even if red had become a complicated color for her. She still wore it like it was stitched into her bones.

Suddenly, Undertaker is next to us.

I act like I expected him, though I didn't hear a single step. His grin is wide and eerie as always. Sebastian, beside me, frowns in quiet disapproval. I narrow my eyes at Undertaker. He knows things he shouldn't—about Ciel, about Sebastian. That's what bothers me most.

This man knows everything.

0o0o0o0o

After the funeral, we had Undertaker bury Madam Red in a nearby cemetery. Most guests left after offering their condolences—empty words I didn't care to absorb. I sit close to the fresh mound of dirt, fingers idly pulling at blades of grass. The silence settles heavy over my shoulders.

How many more deaths am I going to witness in this world? How many more people I've grown to love will I have to bury?

My gaze lifts automatically to my brother. When Sebastian eventually takes Ciel's soul, I don't know if I'll survive the grief.

Lau, Sebastian, Ciel, and I are the only ones left atop the hill. Wind stirs the grass and nothing else moves.

"You did not inform the Queen of Jack the Ripper's true identity?" Lau's voice cuts into the stillness.

"...I did not think it was necessary," Ciel answers. "After all, Jack the Ripper is no longer in London."

"By doing so, your feet steadily sink into the bog," Lau replies, his words laced with something darker. We all glance at him. "Even if you're dragged forcefully into unfamiliar territory, you never show your unsightly, weeping-for-help form." His smile sharpens. "You prideful, Queen's dog. I also do not wish to trouble you, Earl. Take care of yourself the best you can."

"If opium and intoxicants from China become viewed as a problem, regulations and time both will be an issue. If that happened, I do not think the Yard would release your administrative opium den."

I huff softly, still crouched on the ground. "You better think of a better 'business' option. Drugs aren't exactly user-friendly."

Lau smirks. "If that happens, I will take that into consideration. My interest in this country remains inexhaustible," he says, then leans close to Ciel. "As you do, Earl. It is my hope that you will show me more interesting things."

When Lau finally leaves, we watch his silhouette disappear over the hill's crest.

Ciel turns. "Sebastian, Rina, come. There is somewhere else to visit."

Well. He addressed me. Miracles never cease.

I rise to stand but pause as Sebastian offers me a hand. I take it, meeting his gaze with a quiet nod. He helps me up gently, his touch precise, respectful. I wonder if Ciel ordered him to be kind today.

I let go just as quickly. We follow Ciel deeper into the cemetery, where Undertaker waits again—this time perched on a headstone like some ghostly sentinel. My mood sours.

"Undertaker, are you finished?" Ciel asks.

"Of course. I gave her a reliably pretty little burial," Undertaker says, gesturing to the headstone.

I blink in surprise. He buried the final victim? I never expected that from Ciel. Even Sebastian looks faintly startled.

"The final customer of Jack the Ripper affair. It seems she was a foreign immigrant. No one could be found to take charge of the corpse." Undertaker now holds a shovel, which he let's fall to the grass with a thud. Then, he moves behind my brother, claws poking at Ciel's cheek. "That's why the kind Earl gave even a nameless prostitute her own grave.~"

I smile faintly despite myself. "Kind" isn't a word Ciel would use, but this was a kind thing to do.

"I came to an understanding of why I could not save this woman," Ciel says after a long pause. "That night, if I had made her life my priority, there would have been countless opportunities to save her. But I did not. While I understand there was the possibility of saving her, I made capturing Jack the Ripper my priority. I know that I did not save her. My blood relative...I understand, and I let her die."

The wind shifts and I draw my arms inward. There's no telling what he's feeling. He wears a mask like Sebastian does—except his might be fused to the skin. Auntie once told me Ciel had changed...maybe this is what she meant.

"Are you regretting it?" Undertaker asks, tilting his head.

"I am not. Jack the Ripper no longer exists. Queen Victoria's sadness has been alleviated."

"Victoria, huh? I don't like her~" Undertaker grumbles. I narrow my eyes. That's unusual. Undertaker gets along with everyone—or pretends to. "She does nothing but sightsees from way up high, and forces eeee-very-thing harsh and dirty on the Earl."

For once, I agree with him. The Queen means nothing to me. She's just a historical name and a distant puppet master. But it is a bit cool to know I'm a part of a family that is involved with her history.

Ciel fingers the ring on his thumb. "That is the karma my family has been burdened with. I inherited it with this ring."

"That ring seems more like a collar. Connecting you and the Queen by a chain called Karma."

I think of Vincent then. Always distant, always running on duty.

"The one who decided to put that collar around my neck was me."

Undertaker leans in close, tugging Ciel by his tie, lips curling into something near a threat. "I hope one day that collar hangs you because that's boring." He lets go with a snicker. "If anything else happens, come on by my shop."

He drifts away like a phantom, and I watch him vanish again.

Then I hear fabric shift. Sebastian lays his coat over Ciel's small shoulders.

"How kind of you."

The wind lifts Sebastian's dark hair. He brushes it back slowly with his hand, a motion full of mockery.

"How many times do I have to say it? I'm not kind or anything."

Sebastian's eyes darken, a smirk curling as something feral dances in his expression.

"You are kind. If you weren't you would simply be a 'coward', isn't that right?"

Ciel turns sharply, his expression sour. "You bastard—"

"Why did you not shoot?"

I freeze. He had a gun? My breath stalls as I inch closer.

"You 'watched a blood relative die'? I do not admire lies."

Oh no. If he knows about that, does he also know I've been stealing his desserts? I wince. So he let me get away with it... why?

Sebastian glances at me now. "That night, you carried a hidden gun with you. If you thought you were going to fire it, it would have been at her. But you hesitated. Even at my urging, you did not fire your gun. Rina, nor did you use your sword when she was aiming her dagger at you. Why was that?"

I stare at my hands. He's right. I didn't raise my blade. I couldn't.

Because...I loved her. I'd known her since the beginning. Two years of warmth and worry and tangled attempts at family.

"Was the idea of killing Madam Red with your own hand, scary?"

Sebastian's eyes burn now—sharp, demonic, gleaming in the dim light.

Not scary. No. But she was still herself. And she was suffering. Grell only pushed her further off the edge she was already standing on. She needed someone to catch her, not someone to finish her off.

Damnit. And sadly—I fail in that department.

So no, it wasn't scary. I didn't want to keep adding to my guilt, and I wasn't going to kill her just to give myself another reason to hate who I've become. I think this with a strange sort of clarity—determination, even.

"If she killed me, I would have let her." The words slip out loud before I can stop them.

My brother's eyes go wide, horrified. As if I've said something unforgivable. Sebastian looks surprised too, but I don't retract the statement. I can't. There's no logic behind it—just how I felt. If it would've settled the roiling pit of guilt in my chest...if it meant protecting Ciel the way I failed to in that moment...I would've died without regret.

Ciel's face hardens. "...Because it was your job." His voice is cold, matter-of-fact—yet also oddly resigned. He answers Sebastian's unspoken question as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It is because even if you died, I thought you would protect me. That is why I did not shoot."

Sebastian stares, visibly stunned.

"The contract between you and I is 'Until my objective is achieved, you will become my power. Protect me to the end so that I am not killed.' If I had died there, it would have been a breach of the contract. It is said that obeying orders is a demon's aesthetics. Therefore, I expect even if you die, you would come and save me. You demons have no such thing as 'convictions' or 'loyalty,' isn't that right? All you have is 'aesthetics.'"

I let his words sink in slowly, filing them away. It's the most insight I've ever gotten into their bond—into what Sebastian is.

No wonder he talks about "trust" like it's foreign currency. If demons don't act from loyalty or emotion, but only by aesthetic obligation...how bizarre. And fascinating. I wonder what else a demon like Sebastian considers beautiful.

It's also good to know Ciel's got safeguards in place within this strange, supernatural contract. I've always wondered about the true nature of their relationship. This explains a lot.

"...If that is the case, you will protect me for the sake of your aesthetics. Therefore, to not expressly hand down an order—if I said nothing—you would have killed Madam Red. Am I wrong?" Ciel finishes, tone sharp, gaze unflinching.

I blink. He's sharper than me...I never could've thought that deeply on something so specific.

Sebastian tilts his head, ever so slightly. "Then why...was I stopped?"

"There had been contamination by power from the flip side of the world. If you step out of your proper place, the rule is that you will be punished. That is the duty Scotland Yard stands upon. And I." Ciel's voice is steel.

I want to interrupt. To say Madam Red wasn't just some tainted soul in need of punishment. But I keep quiet. I'll carry her pain with me, alone.

"When it looked as though she would kill me, there was doubt in her eyes. It was most identifiable when she attacked Rina. Madam Red could not kill us—her blood and non-blood relatives. That is what I believed."

I nod slowly. I felt that too.

From her film, from her hesitation...there was a moment where she remembered me—not as some obstacle, but as a child she once met. Half-dead, voiceless, barely hanging on. I remember that time too. How I barely spoke, how Vincent helped draw me out. All I can do now is protect his son until the end. But I failed once already...Fenian is gone. And Ciel? He's hunted by a demon—not the kind people speak of metaphorically.

"...Even a moment's hesitation will be fatal. Chess and a moment. She was hesitant and lost sight of her next move. That is all. That is why I did not hesitate." Ciel finishes, stepping away. His silhouette cuts sharply against the gravestones behind him.

I scoff, brushing my wind-tossed hair back. "So bleak. You really don't know a person's heart, brother. She had no next move. She was acting on an emotional whim the whole time." A quiet smile tugs at my lips. "You two will never understand." I clasp my hands behind my back and gaze out into the cemetery, letting the wind bite at my cheeks.

I don't think Ciel hears me.

But Sebastian does.

I turn slightly—just enough to see him watching Ciel with a strange reverence. Until his expression shifts. That knowing, sinister smirk returns.

"That is not it, is it? To survive, it is always good for the King to be able to skillfully manipulate the pieces. To use both the Knight and the Queen. Under that throne, the fallen bodies of the chessmen gather as your sins increase. If the King is taken, the game is over. You must not lose."

Ciel stops mid-step.

"I will not halt. I will not regret any step that has advanced me. Therefore—" He turns to us, eyes burning with fire. "This is an order. You two alone will not betray me. You will never leave my side. No matter what!"

I stare at him blankly.

Sebastian bows with a smirk. "Yes, my lord."

There's a pause before I reply. I cross my arms. "I will make no such promises." My voice is low, serious.

Ciel's eye widens. "W-What?!"

I walk past him.

He grabs my arm roughly, yanking me back. "You will do what I say!"

I rip my arm away, glaring. "I. Will. Not."

He matches my stare, trembling now. "You will!"

"Why should I?!"

He breathes hard, voice cracking. "You vowed you would not."

I laugh—but there's no joy in it. Just bitterness. I cover my mouth, trying to steady the fury behind my words. "Y-You...You really think I wouldn't reconsider? After what you just did to me? Do you even see what's happened?"

His eye trembles. "Rina...I—"

"I really am not in the mood for this talk right now." I cut him off and start walking again.

This time, he lets me go.

And somehow, the wind carries my tears for me.

0o0o0o0o

The carriage ride back is just as unpleasant as I expect. Ciel shifts between glaring and sulking. I pretend not to feel the heat of his gaze crawling up my spine. When we arrive at the manor, I don't wait for Sebastian to open the door. I climb out and march straight inside.

Up the stairs. Down the hall to my room. Slam.

A muffled shout escapes me as the door rattles in its frame. My breath heaves. I don't know how to talk to Ciel about any of this—what I know, what I think I know.

He's branded. A literal seal burned into him. Where the hell does a child even get something like that?

The thought drags my stomach to the floor. An auction house? Trafficking? Both?

I suck in a breath and yank open my dresser. Time to shed this stupid corset and dress. Off they go, strewn across the floor. I grab a shirt and shorts—my real armor. The soft stuff. The hidden self.

I flop onto my bed face-down, inhaling the scent of the sheets. Warm, familiar. Comforting. When I roll over, my eyes catch a glint of silver on the nightstand.

The photo.

I crawl to it, careful hands cradling the frame.

Thank God I had asked for multiple photos in one session. I lie on my back and hold the frame above me. Vincent and Racheal's smiling faces beam down at the twins in front of me. Fenian banned all pictures with his twin, so this one—is all I have. I drag a thumb over their faces, slow and gentle.

God, I wish Vincent was still here...

0o0o0o0o

Memory Lane

"Racheal, look, look!" I shout.

She giggles. "I know—I can feel it."

My hands press against her round belly. I gasp as the baby kicks.

"How many months until the baby's born?" I ask, eyes wide in wonder.

She taps her chin, thoughtful. "Hmm...I believe two."

I grin. "I can't wait! Can I help take care of it? Please?"

Her smile grows. "Yes!"

I lean close, clutching her dress. "You hear that, little baby? I'm going to be like a big sister! I'll be there for you, okay?"

Another kick. I laugh as it thumps against my forehead.

"Rina, are you disturbing my wife again?"

I spin—nearly trip—until I see him.

"Vincent!" I cry, running into his arms.

He lifts me effortlessly, spinning me once. "The business trip was boring," he mutters to Rachel with a deadpan look.

"Am I heavy?" I ask, a little self-conscious, ignoring their conversation.

He shrugs. "Not really."

I kiss his cheek. "Welcome home!"

He startles for a moment, then smiles. "I'm home."

End Memory Lane

0o0o0o0o

I smile sadly at the memory playing in my head. I don't even realize I'm crying until the warmth of a tear slides down past my ear. I pull the photo frame closer, pressing it to my forehead, clutching it tight—until the ache in my chest finally cracks open, and I start to sob.

"What do I do? Vincent, I am so lost. Everything's so fucked up. Why did you take me in?" The wail that leaves my throat is raw, desperate, and loud. I don't care who hears me.

It's been so long since I let myself cry like this. I cry for Madam Red, for my brother, for every person I've loved and lost. And finally—for myself.

I cry until the sky outside fades to night. Until my throat burns and my eyes sting and every breath feels like I've been dragged across gravel. My sniffles echo through the dark room as I lie there, dazed, hollowed out.

A headache is already blooming behind my eyes. I need water.

Groaning, I sit up and reach for my robe at the end of the bed. I throw it over my shoulders, tying it with a sluggish knot, and pad quietly to the door. I don't want Sebastian to know I'm out of bed. The hallway is dim, lit only by a flickering oil lamp. If that demon thinks it's funny to scare me right now, I swear to god—I will slap him. I don't care what species he is.

Hugging myself, I creep down the stairs with careful, silent steps, each one deliberate.

I'm basically tiptoeing by the time I reach the kitchen. No sign of anyone. Thank god. I ease the door open and slip inside with a sigh.

I grab a cup and turn the faucet on. Keep it quick. I'm in no shape to be talking to anyone.

"My lady, the quieter you are, the more curious I am."

I jerk the cup from my lips and choke, hard. Water goes down the wrong pipe and I cough violently, eyes watering, heart slamming against my ribs. That bastard! My face is already burning.

Still coughing, I rub at my neck and spin around, glaring. "You, honestly. Wasn't there a better way to phrase that sentence?!"

He shrugs like I'm overreacting. "I do believe you have an inappropriate mind."

I jab a finger into his chest. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

His smirk widens, a flicker of red in his eyes. "I do not deny such claims."

God, I need space. "Oh my god, I knew you were a pervert."

He raises a brow, amused. "What do you take a demon for? We are made up of all the sins."

Right. Demons. I cringe. "Really?"

"Some more than others," he nods. "But yes."

"Huh. I learn more every day." I mutter with a slow nod. "Anyway, I'll be heading off to bed."

"If you get any sleep, you mean."

I freeze. I glance back at him. "I haven't gotten any sleep in two days. I don't know how I am standing."

Suddenly, he's behind me. His hands settle on my hips and my whole body locks up. I feel his breath on my neck, his hair brushing against my skin.

"Perhaps you need some help relaxing."

His voice is low, coaxing—seductive.

My face instantly flares red. He's not...He can't be serious, right?

But my body's reacting—burning under his touch, my pulse racing, the skin on my neck alive with heat. My heart screams yes while my mind scrambles to escape before it's also lured in. Fog creeps in around my thoughts, thick and dizzying.

And then—his lips ghost over my neck. My entire body shudders and heat pools in other areas.

H-Hold on. I just told him yesterday we were companions! That's not what I meant!

"S-Sebastian..." I whisper, breath catching. His eyelashes tickle my jaw. "W-What are you doing?!"

He chuckles, rich and deep. "You should take advantage of what I offer. Who knows what splendors you may encounter?"

His grip tightens just slightly. Every word is coated in sinful promise, and it's working—too well. I don't understand it. How can one man unravel me like this?

Then it hits me—he's doing this on purpose. He's seducing me. Why? What does he want from me like this, when I'm vulnerable?

He's a fucking demon! This isn't supposed to happen either way. He's going to devour my brother one day! He doesn't go around caressing humans for fun.

There has to be a reason.

"Sebastian," I say firmly.

He freezes. He notices my tone. Tension radiates off him.

I pry his hands off my waist and turn to face him, glare edged with confusion. "Care to tell me why you suggest such activities?"

I'm not furious, but I am bothered—and not just by him, but by me. Why did I almost let it happen? I can't be that touch starved…right?

He regards me blankly. "The young master requested I gather information about you. Your thoughts and feelings toward him. Toward us."

I blink. "And you thought sex was the best course of action?"

He smiles, that infuriating trademark grin. "It is an easy method. One I am surprised you broke out of. A demon's influence is quite powerful. I thought you wouldn't mind such a gesture as well."

My head bobs slowly, processing. "Did I sound like I was wanton? No." I glare at him. "You do realize my brother would kill you for laying hands on me like that, right?"

"Yes."

I stare, utterly exasperated. "You're crazy. You've got some balls, I'll give you that. But out of all the methods, that one? I doubt it was the easiest."

"But it almost worked, no? It is easy for me to seduce a human. But you? The idea of doing so was most entertaining. And I was right."

I scowl and shove his closing-in face away with my hand. "You're trying to distract me again."

"I simply wish for you and the young master to touch base again. It is a nuisance to deal with when the young master is upset."

I cross my arms, still scowling. "He sent you to check up on me. If he wants my trust again, he needs to earn it. With a real explanation. Not a half-assed one."

He bows with practiced grace, hand over his chest. "I shall let him know."

I nod and turn back toward my room, wanting to put a wall between us before he tries anything else. What I don't see as I walk away are his glowing eyes, still watching me from the shadows—nor the strange tingling that flares across my neck the moment I leave.

0o0o0o0o

I toss and turn in bed, sheets tangling around me. Sleep refuses to come. I growl and kick the blanket off. My mind keeps looping back to Sebastian—his voice, his touch. His hands still linger on my hips like phantom fire.

I press my palms to my eyes. Get a grip. Sleep, dammit.

A knock breaks the silence. My heart jumps. What the hell—It's past midnight.

"I swear to god, if that's you, Sebastian. Turn back around and go find someone else to entertain your devious thoughts for the night." I bark.

The door creaks open. Not Sebastian.

It's Fenian.

I sit up, eyes wide. He looks awful—bone-tired, dark circles, no eyepatch. The mark of the contract blazes clear on his uncovered eye.

"You're still awake?" I ask.

He enters without a word, closing the door behind him. The room goes dark again.

"Rina..." he murmurs.

His footsteps pad closer to the bed. He flicks on the oil lamp beside me, and I squint at the sudden light.

"Let's talk," he says, climbing up onto the mattress. "Ask your questions."

I hesitate, unsure. Will he really answer me?

I grip the blanket in my lap. "Tell me from the beginning. I beg."

He's quiet, staring down at the Phantomhive ring. Twisting it on his finger. Then he looks up at me.

"Fine...just, just promise to not get mad."

That dead look in his eyes...it pleads with me.

I reach out and take his hand. "Take your time. We have all night."

He grips it tightly.

And then he tells me everything.

The kidnapping. The cult. Watching his twin die. The summoning. The revenge.

The contract.

I don't cry—not right away. I know he'd hate the pity. But as he keeps speaking, the horror sinks in. The weight of it.

And then I break.

I cover my mouth with a trembling hand, but the sobs break through anyway. I hunch forward, wracked with grief.

"I-If you're just going to d-die, why did you b-bring me back?" I wail.

His eyes widen, and then he frowns deeply. He clutches my hand tighter. "I...I needed to know if you were alright."

"I won't be able to handle it," I whimper. "Feni, I-I can't..."

He brushes tears from my cheek. "You will live through it."

I shake my head and press his hand to my face. "I—I'm going to die too. When you do."

That sparks something in him. He grabs my face with both hands and yanks me toward him. "You will not!"

"My heart can't take any more death! I'm weak—I can't live in a world where I know no one! I—"

"The Midfords will take care of you."

I shove his hands away. "I don't want them! I want to be where my family is—even in death."

"You foolish girl..." he mutters.

I crash into his chest and cling to him, burying my face in his shirt. He gasps, but slowly relaxes, wrapping his arms around me. His hand strokes my back, calming.

Eventually, he runs his fingers through my hair—just like I used to do when he was a scared little boy.

We sit like that for a long time, not speaking. Just holding.

Sleep drags at my eyes. "I miss...auntie," I whisper.

"I know."

"I miss...Vincent..." I say by accident. I'm too tired to filter myself.

He stiffens under me. His hand pauses. "I know..." he whispers.

I lift my head and meet his eyes. "I'm sorry...for being such a terrible big sister."

I kiss his forehead gently. He squirms, obviously uncomfortable, but doesn't stop me.

I kiss his forehead—softly, deliberately—and he shifts beneath me, already bristling at the affection. "Heh, terrible. Why do you stoop yourself so low? I am a terrible brother. I have wronged many, even you to protect myself," he mutters, lips twisting into a wry smirk.

I frown, the weight of his self-loathing coiling around us like smoke. I've had enough of this air—too heavy, too bitter. Without warning, I pull him into a full-on bear hug, squeezing tight, refusing to let go. He gasps in shock as I nuzzle my cheek into his hair, soaking in the warmth I thought I'd lost.

"Ahh!~ My young brother is amazing!~" I squeal, voice sing-song, hoping to cut through the fog with joy.

He flails against me, wriggling like a caught cat. "R-Rina?! L-Let me go!" he shouts, scandalized.

I just giggle and roll us onto the bed, pinning him gently to my chest as I wrap around him like a cocoon. "Nuh-uh!~ If you want to be forgiven at least a little bit, you gotta sleep with me all night like this."

"Hah!?" he sputters, and the deep red blooming across his face is so satisfying.

"In my arms alllll night," I chime, grinning.

He kicks a little more, but it's half-hearted now—just for show. Finally, with a dramatic sigh of resignation, he mutters, "Fine…"

Victory tastes sweet.

I smile, giddy and warm, and bury my face into his hair again, curling around him like I'm trying to keep him safe from the world. Maybe I am.

"Rina?" he asks after a long pause, his voice low and almost uncertain.

"Mmm?" I hum, eyes drifting shut.

I feel him tug lightly at the hem of my shirt, and then the soft press of his legs brushing against mine. "What are you wearing?" he asks, suspicious.

I blink, cheeks flushing. Right. Shorts and a tee. "Erm…comfy clothes?"

"They're weird. Where did you get them?"

"I had them made special from Nina. Been wearing' 'em for years—even back when you were just a little kid."

He's quiet for a second. "How come I never noticed?"

I shrug lazily, too comfortable to care. "'Cause you were a kid…" I mumble, already drifting. "You still are one though…"

He doesn't respond. The silence stretches, but not in a bad way. It's the kind that wraps around you like a blanket, warm and final.

And just like that, I fall asleep with him in my arms.

There's a long road ahead—nothing's fixed overnight. But somehow, the jagged edges between us don't feel as sharp anymore. My trust, so battered and cracked, begins to piece itself together. Maybe it's reckless. Maybe it's just the pull of blood and years and what we've both lost.

But I know one thing for certain: my brother has walked through hell. And somehow, he's still standing—still here—because of Sebastian.

That demon…always one step ahead. He's playing a game I haven't figured out yet. I'll have to keep my eyes open. No more blind spots. No more letting myself get pulled around.

For now, though, I just hold onto what I can.

These rare, quiet nights before Ciel vanishes from my life again.

Chapter Text

Waking early for once, I spring out of bed, the kind of restless energy from a near-sleepless night still buzzing through my limbs. Pulling the curtains open, I watch the sun begin its slow ascent over the horizon, pale gold stretching over frost-covered fields. I lift my arms in a stretch and head to the vanity, brushing through my hair with quick strokes before tying it into a high ponytail with a steel-blue ribbon.

I dart into the bathroom and finish my morning routine in record time—ten minutes, tops. Once dressed, I choose a matching dress and a pair of flats, smiling to myself in the mirror. Today isn't just any day—it's important. I need to look the part.

Humming something light and aimless, I grab the small gift on my desk, cheeks warming at the thought. My brother's birthday. The memory sends a soft ache through me, despite the smile on my face. This date always stirs up something complicated—joy laced with dread.

The last time this day came around, all I could think about was that night…the one that stole so much from us.

The trauma still echoes, but I try to push past it—for him. For Fenian. I know how much today haunts him too.

I fasten my cloak tightly beneath my chin, pull on gloves, and loop a scarf around my neck. With the present tucked close, I leave my room quietly, hoping I don't run into Sebastian just yet. Knowing him, he'll appear out of thin air like some theatrical phantom.

Downstairs, the manor is still quiet. I slip through the servants' kitchen and find it empty, a blessing. Using the back door, I step out into the sharp December morning.

The cold hits instantly. I shiver and tuck myself deeper into my cloak. The ground is bare—no snow today, just brittle grass and stiff earth underfoot. I walk toward a place I only visit once a year.

The iron fence creaks as I push through, and I enter the graveyard.

Gray stones rise around me like quiet sentinels. My steps slow as I approach Vincent's grave. A soft wind lifts my hair and I pull my scarf over my mouth, letting my breath warm the fabric. I lower myself to sit before the gravestone, setting the present down beside me.

I don't pray. Not really. It's more like...letting my thoughts wander where they might be heard. If they could be heard. If souls linger, if they care to listen.

I sit there a long while, just breathing, just remembering. The sun climbs slowly, and when it reaches a height that makes time undeniable, I realize I've been out here for two hours. My backside is frozen numb, and my ears sting from the cold. With a sigh, I push to my feet, knees creaking in protest.

I bow toward the grave with a small, solemn smile. "Thank you," I whisper.

Turning away, I pick up the gift and head back. The warmth of the manor calls to me, and I'm pretty sure Sebastian is waking Ciel by now. I hurry through the back, slipping past the staff with a quick, breathless "Good morning!" and bound up the stairs, three at a time, until I spot him—Sebastian, of course—at Ciel's door, a tray of tea balanced effortlessly.

"Wait!" I call, heart thudding as I run to meet him.

He glances over his shoulder with mild curiosity. I reach the door, panting slightly, grinning with anticipation. I open it slowly, slipping inside with the present hidden behind my back.

Ciel lies in bed, his face twisted in sleep, brow slick with sweat. I blink. Something's off.

"Brother!" I chirp, but he only furrows his brow.

"Brother!" I try again, louder this time. I lean forward to shake his shoulder, but—

His eyes snap open and a cold barrel presses to my forehead.

I freeze.

He's breathing hard, chest rising and falling, the gun trembling in his grasp. His eyes are wide but unfocused.

"Don't…touch me," Ciel pants, his voice raw.

I don't dare move. Sebastian steps in silently, guiding me back with a gentle but firm hand until he takes my place.

"Today's morning tea is Assam black tea with added milk," he says, tone cool and composed as he pours the tea into a fine porcelain cup. "It is a milk tea I prepared."

Ciel doesn't speak. His hand finally lowers.

"Milk can help soothe one's nerves and calm you down," Sebastian adds, stepping forward with the cup in hand. "Especially after a nightmare."

Ciel exhales heavily. His grip loosens, and he finally seems to recognize us. I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"It must be because you were reading Edgar Allen Poe's works before bedtime," Sebastian notes with a small glance toward the nightstand.

I spot the book and lift an eyebrow. "Not exactly the wisest decision," I murmur. "I wasn't expecting a gun against my head to start the day either."

Ciel looks vaguely guilty and clears his throat. "I have the pleasure of doing anything I please." He takes a sip of tea before continuing, "What's the schedule for today?"

I keep the gift hidden behind my back, biding my time. I want to give it to him when it's just us. Did he really forget what day it was?

"Today, you will need to assess the files sent by the company. You will be having the Marchioness Midford and Lady Elizabeth as guests in the afternoon."

I pale. "W-What?! Wait—what?!"

"Oh no!" Ciel groans, full panic taking over.

"And also, young master—"

Sebastian doesn't get to finish. Ciel bolts out of bed, shouting, "Hurry up and make preparations! HURRY!"

"There's no need to be anxious. The Marchioness will only arrive in the afternoon—"

"Sebastian, how long have you lived in this household?! That woman is always super early!" I yell, panic rising in my throat.

Understanding dawns on him belatedly. Ciel frowns at me in confusion. "Rina, why are you here anyway?"

Sebastian crosses to the closet and selects an outfit. I grin, remembering. "It's because today is—"

"Young master, we must be swift. I'm afraid breakfast will have to be skipped." Sebastian interrupts.

I narrow my eyes at him, irritation burning in my chest. He smirks as he dresses Ciel with mechanical precision. Really? Did he have to cut me off right then?

I fume silently and tuck the present into my hidden dress pocket. Yes, Nina blessed me with secret compartments. She's a genius.

Once Ciel is fully dressed, I notice his eyepatch missing and fetch it from the nightstand. Carefully, I fasten it in place, fingers brushing lightly over the knot at the back of his head. I find the mark beneath fascinating, but I don't linger.

We rush down the hall, footsteps echoing in unison. Ciel is a few strides ahead, and I slow just enough to whisper to Sebastian.

"Why won't you let me mention his birthday?"

He smirks without looking at me. "I want to watch him figure it out on his own."

I sigh and glance at the gift in my hand. The tiny box warms my palm. A cane ornament, custom made—a tiny metal hummingbird perched elegantly. It's simple but personal. I think he'll like it.

"Did you get him anything?" I ask curiously.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. "What would I have to give?"

I frown, considering. "Fair. You are a demon, after all."

We walk together, descending the grand staircase. "Do you have a birthday?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Demons are manifested, not usually born. It is rare."

"Do demons not populate like humans?"

He chuckles darkly. "Hardly. Most demons are infertile."

My jaw drops. "What? Why?"

He shrugs. "We are damned. Most demons emerge through sin. Sometimes, a human turns after death. It varies."

I whistle low. "So...you were manifested?"

"In a way."

"Can I ask how old you are?"

His eyes gleam faintly. "Aren't you a curious little cat?"

My cheeks flush. "I can't help it. It's not every day I live with a demon."

He watches me for a long moment, amused, before we reach the foyer. Ciel waits by the doors, straightening his coat. The instant we arrive, Sebastian steps forward and opens the door to reveal our guests.

"It has been a while since we last met, Marchioness Midford," Ciel greets politely, still looking a touch disheveled. We really did speed-walk here.

"Hello, my ladies!" I chime in, curtsying with practiced grace. Just because I'm adopted doesn't mean I get to slack off on etiquette. Especially not with her.

"Forget the formal greetings," Francis snaps. I stand up straight, sweating a little. "Anyway, Earl Phantomhive, with that out-of-bed look, can I presume that you have just awakened?"

I stifle a laugh as Elizabeth rushes past and tackles Ciel in a hug, practically vibrating with sparkles. "Ahh! Ciel, who has just woke up is soooo cute!"

Agreed. Completely.

"Elizabeth!" Francis barks. "It is not proper for you to engage in such improper actions—"

I flinch at her tone. Flashbacks to training. Yikes.

"I am so sorry, mother!" Elizabeth squeaks.

Then Francis shifts her gaze to Sebastian.

He bows, one hand over his chest. "It has been quite a while! Welcome, Marchioness and Lady Elizabeth. Thank you for taking the trouble to travel all the way here…"

Her eyes narrow. She steps closer, scrutinizing.

"May I ask...is there something on my face?" he inquires smoothly, though a single sweat drop betrays him.

We all brace in silence.

"That face of yours! It's still the same as ever," she says sternly. "What an indecent look you possess."

Ciel snorts behind me, trying to stifle his laugh. I can't hold mine back. I smack my leg, silently cackling.

"T-That's not the only thing that's 'indecent' about him," I wheeze, "y-you should see his personality."

Sebastian shoots me a murderous glare, and I shrink slightly under it—but the giggles still spill out.

"I was born looking this way..." he says through a strained smile.

I'm still recovering from my laugh when I feel her eyes shift—onto me.

"Rina, what is with your hair as well? No refined lady should be wearing her hair so high in such an indecent manner."

I pout, instinctively touching the base of my high ponytail. I liked it. I really liked it. I hear my brother snicker and snap a glare in his direction. There's nothing wrong with my ponytail! It's not like it has glitter or confetti in it!

I sulk quietly as Francis launches into a fresh round of criticism.

"And also!" she snaps, suddenly grabbing Sebastian's fringe and yanking it upward like she's trying to pull out his soul.

I abandon my sulking to watch the spectacle unfold. From the twitch in Sebastian's brow, I can tell he's more irritated than surprised. He freezes as she critiques him mercilessly. "Both the master and the butler are alike. The two of you are obviously men, yet both of you keep your fringe long. Seeing it irks me! Kindly learn from Tanaka!"

Right on cue, Tanaka appears—smiling like he hasn't aged in a hundred years. My mouth parts slightly in awe. Is she seriously scolding all of us just for our hair?

She stalks closer with those terrifying eyes, and my survival instincts start screaming. Next thing I know, we've all been given makeovers.

Ciel looks ridiculous. Sebastian...still looks hot. Just, in a different way. More polished, maybe. And me? My hair's tied into a librarian-style bun so tight it's pulling my thoughts back with it.

We're all fake-smiling with sweat drops while she surveys us, comb in hand like a victorious general.

"I am really sorry that I have to trouble you for this, Aunt Francis," Ciel says, practically grinding the words through clenched teeth.

"Really now!" she sighs, disappointed. Her tone hardens and my spine straightens on reflex. "Rina, you should be the governing lady of this household. You need to be properly educated on how to be a respectful lady and how to assist the Earl in looks, form, and success before you marry. Why aren't you married yet? Do you understand the many responsibilities you have?"

I shrink back under the weight of her expectations. Apparently, I should be panicking over societal duties and husbands instead of, you know, breathing and existing. Can't I just freeload in peace?

I shoot my brother a desperate look. Can I be a maid again? His answering sweatdrop is a tragic "I-have-no-idea-what-to-say" look. Ugh. Useless.

I pull on a wide smile, placing my hands neatly in front of me. "Aunt Francis, I have yet to take, erm...lessons, because my brother needs me to help with...the company!" I tack on a grin like I've just come up with the cleverest excuse.

Not exactly a lie.

"A noble lady should not be working in a business setting meant for men."

I wince. And then my twenty-first-century rage nearly detonates.

"I can do—" I start, then bite down on my lip, hard enough to draw blood. "…Yes, ma'am," I mutter. Quiet. Bitter. Resentful. My eyes flick away.

God, I hate this. Being dismissed—less—because I'm a woman. I want to scream. But I can't. Not here. Not now. In my head, I'm still free. But out loud? Out loud, I have to bow.

It's like parts of me have to stay locked away just to survive.

I want to help Ciel. I want to work with him, run the company. But that future feels...unreachable. He'll die young—maybe even soon. Could I take over then? Would anyone even let me? Can a woman lead something like that in this world?

My thoughts spiral, bitter and sharp, until Ciel glances at me with faint concern. I offer a small nod. I'm fine.

"I have come today conduct a surprise spot-check," Francis declares with her arms crossed like a battle-ready general. "And you are still lazing around like usual. Also, your butler is STILL as indecent as ever."

Great. Today's looking better by the second.

The only thing I'm looking forward to is giving Ciel his birthday present. That moment—that tiny spark—will make today worth it. I love and hate this day for all the same reasons. But I've got plans. A party. A surprise. Something fun for once.

"Bearing in mind that you are going to be the man whom my daughter is marrying in the future."

Ciel sweat drops beside me.

"I am going to retrain you today! I am going to do an extensive check!"

Her finger points directly at me, Ciel, and Sebastian. We all sweatdrop in sync.

"Firstly, I am going to check the inside of your house. Unruliness in the living environment is the thing that leads to the heart being unruly!"

Oh god, I groan internally. Please tell me the servants didn't trash anything.

"In that case, allow me to lead the way," Sebastian says with his usual fake charm, hand elegantly pressed to his chest.

"Hey!" Ciel whisper-shouts, tugging on his sleeve.

"Please be at ease, I have already ensured that everything is in place yesterday."
Sebastian gives a sly wink and brings a finger to his lips, like it's some grand secret.

I roll my eyes and step in the opposite direction. "I'll talk to y'all later. I have plans for the rest of the day."

Francis raises a skeptical brow. "Y'all?"

Sebastian, Ciel, and Elizabeth don't even flinch. They're used to me by now. I sweatdrop and mentally curse.

"Um...I mean you guys?" I say aloud, suddenly unsure of my own phrasing.

Her brow arches higher. "You mean, you all?"

I facepalm. "That is what I mean."

"It is clear you need proper education."

Sebastian clears his throat and reclaims the spotlight.

"Milady?"

Francis walks off with the others, and I stick my tongue out at her retreating figure. Proper education? Please. I know more than everyone in this manor. Well—maybe not Sebastian. But he doesn't count.

I huff and head to the kitchen. The ribbon strangling my bun gets ripped out the second I step through the door. My scalp stings.

No one's inside. Not a great sign when I need the servants for setup. I move to a lower cabinet, pulling out two large mixing bowls with an eager grin.

Today, I'm making Ciel's birthday cake. And decorating the main hall.

I assume Elizabeth and Francis are here for his birthday too. Which means I need to make a lot of food. Baking is fine. Cooking? That's another war for another hour. I gather ingredients for a double-layer cake, debating between chocolate and strawberry. I think I made strawberry last year...

Chocolate it is. My favorite. And honestly, the most superior flavor.

I pull my hair back into a high ponytail just to spite Francis. Plus, I don't want stray strands falling in the batter. That's disgusting.

No pre-made mixes here. I'm doing this from scratch. No Betty Crocker, no shortcuts. Sebastian's cakes are technically perfect—but they taste too clean, too...impersonal. Like they're sculpted.

Yet, they are my favorite for some reason.

I sigh and start mixing the dry ingredients.

"It's been twenty-four hours and I need more hours with you~ You spent the weekend getting even~"

I start singing, dancing a little in place. I miss Maroon 5. And Bruno Mars. God, I wanted to see them live.

"You spent the late nights, making things right between us~ But now it's all good babe. Roll that Backwood baby and pull me close~"

I hum, pouring the wet into the dry while shaking my hips slightly. The kitchen's mine now. Just me, a bowl, a whisk, and some off-key pop music.

"Cause girls like you~ Run around with guys like me~ Til sun down, when I come through~ I need a girl like you, yeah yeah~"

I hear a door squeak and instinctively lift my gaze from the frantic search through pans and pots. There stands Mey-Rin, mouth agape, eyes fixed on me like I'm some sort of mystery. I raise a curious eyebrow.

"Is everything okay?" I ask.

"M-Miss. Rina! You have such a terrific voice!" she stammers, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me for emphasis.

Heat rushes to my cheeks at her compliment. I scratch the side of my face sheepishly as she lets go. "You think so? Thanks."

She nods vigorously, then tilts her head with a finger pressed thoughtfully to her lips. "I don't think I have ever heard that song before."

I laugh nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. "Hmm, yes, well. It was made by a small group of men in my old hometown."

"Oh! In America, yes?!"

I nod with a bright smile, popping the 'p' at the end for emphasis. "Yep!"

Her smile grows in response. "What are you doing in the kitchen, my lady?" she asks, eyeing the bowl behind me on the counter.

"Oh!" I exclaim, spinning back to my task. Dropping to my knees again, I continue pulling out pot after pot. Why do we have so many?! This is ridiculous, Sebastian! No human needs this many! I think in exasperation. "Well, today's my brother's birthday. I want to throw him a surprise party," I explain with a small, hopeful smile.

She gasps and sidles up beside me, eyes bright. "Finny, Bard, and I were planning on throwing one, yes! We have begun to set up already, yes!"

I look up at her, genuine wonder blooming inside me. "Really? How convenient. I'm touched that you guys care so much for him." I grin.

She beams back. "Yes! Bard and Finny are still prepping in the main hall."

"You guys are so awesome, no matter the messes you make." I praise, eyes twinkling.

I glance back down under the cabinet, still hunting until my fingers close around two cake pans. "Ah-ha!" I announce, pulling them free.

I stand and place them beside the cake batter. "How much do y'all—er—you all have done?" I correct myself with a quick wince. Old habits die hard, especially with that conjunction.

"The decorations are done. I am looking for a tea set to use, Finny is picking flowers in the garden for the vases, and Bard is supposed to make food. But I can see, he is not here oddly."

I nod, filing the list away in my head. "Make sure to not break the china, Mey-Rin."

She nods confidently. "I will not fail the young master, yes!"

I smile. "Alrighty, then. Better get to it before time runs out." I raise a fist with determination. "I'm counting on you three!"

With that, she swiftly retreats. Please, don't wreak havoc on the manor, I silently plead.

I spread butter inside the pans so the cake doesn't stick, then pour the rich chocolate batter in. Grabbing an oven glove, I slide the pans into the already heated oven and close it with a satisfied grin. I set the timer nearby for an hour.

Hopefully it'll be done by the time Ciel finds out about the birthday bash.

Next, I quickly whip up the cocoa frosting. It doesn't take long. I set the homemade frosting in the cooler to keep fresh. Wiping a bit of sweat from my brow, I realize I probably smudged powdered sugar all over my forehead—whoops.

I blow a stray lock of hair back from my face and start cleaning up the flour scattered on the counter. I wet a rag under the faucet and gently wipe it all away.

Suddenly, the door bursts open with a stampede, and Bard storms in wearing a wild grin. I pale instantly, spotting the piece of dynamite clenched in his hand.

"B-Bard!" I shriek as he wanders over to the bowl of tangerines on the counter, chewing a cigarette like it's nothing.

"Bard!" I shout again, desperate to grab his attention.

"What'?" he asks, moving closer to the stove.

He sets the tangerines down beside it and grabs a tea kettle. A cold sweat forms on my brow.
"What on the bloody Earth are ya' doin'?!"

"Makin' tea. What else?"

I pace to his side, peering over his tall frame. "With the stovetop, right?"

"Is there another way to?"

I shoot him a deadpan look, unimpressed by his cheek. "Well, considering how you blow up everything, yes."

He fills the kettle with tangerines despite my protests. "Seriously! What are you thinking?! You can't just put tangerines and a tea packet in it!" I exclaim, irritation thick in my voice.

I swipe the bowl away with a glare. He shrugs and strikes a match. I pale, dropping the bowl to the floor. "Bard..." I whisper.

He lights the dynamite and plants it inside the kettle, grinning maniacally. "This is how you make tea!" he exclaims, giddy.

I shove him aside and grab the kettle, burning my hands badly. I whimper and rush for the door, the dynamite's fuse ticking down like a death sentence.

"Hey!" Bard yells angrily.

I slam open the back door and toss the kettle out just in time. Tears stream down my cheeks as it explodes, showering tangerine peel and shards of china across the ground. I sigh in relief, pressing a trembling hand to my chest, adrenaline dulling the pain.

I whirl on him, eyes blazing. "YOU CRAZY BASTARD! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME—US!" I scream, shaking my fists.

"So what?! I would have lived, unlike a prissy woman like you."

My temple pulses furiously. "Hah?! Say that again, you asshole!"

"What was that?" he smirks, mockingly sticking a finger in his ear.

"Get out! Get out of here! No cake for you!" I shriek, punching him repeatedly—my fists already stinging red.

"Ouch! Jesus Christ, woman! Why are you so strong?!" he whines as I smack his back one last time, taking wicked pleasure in his pain until he stumbles out the door.

I huff and stomp my foot like a child, still furious. Ugh! He pisses me off more than Sebastian sometimes, I swear.

Opening my clenched fists, I wince at the fiery red burns. I rush to the sink, turning on cold water and holding my hands beneath it. The shock of cold makes me hiss; tears leak from my closed eyes at the sting.

Burning...it burns, it hurts. The heat feels like hell itself.

I open my eyes to the kitchen engulfed in smoke and flames. The walls blacken to charcoal, smoke choking the air. I cough violently, the acrid scent of burning flesh filling my nose. Panic claws at my throat. My vision blurs as I stagger toward the door to my right. I need to get out before I die. Coughing worsens until I'm hacking uncontrollably.

My hand touches the door handle, cool against my burning palms—oddly soothing. I pull it open.

Outside, the cold air hits my flushed cheeks, the sharp contrast almost shocking. I hear my own ragged breathing, gasping desperately. I collapse to the floor, sweat running down my face, my head pounding. My hands burn against the cool ground beneath me. I'm trembling, but it's not the winter chill.

Slowly, I breathe in and out, counting silently. It calms me, tethers me back to now. This isn't a nightmare—though it feels like one. I bite my lip, sorting through the haze. I've done this before—in the daylight, no less—just always alone in my bedroom, where no one can see.

I sit there on the floor for who knows how long. My hands still burn as a reminder this is real, not some ghost of memory. Ugh, fuck this PTSD bullshit.

"Miss Rina?" A high-pitched voice breaks through the haze. I startle and turn to see Finny, concern written all over his face.

"Are you alright?" he asks, tilting his head.

I nod meekly. "Yes..." I whisper.

"Why are you on the grou—What happened?!" he gasps, eyes widening at my red, cracked palms.

I raise my hands uncertainly. "I burnt them."

Panic flares in his eyes. "I-I'll grab the aid kit!" He rushes off, the door slamming behind him.

I wince as the cracked walls groan around me. Please, let Sebastian not blame me. The pain is nothing new. Minor injury, it will heal. No scars, unlike the ugly marks on my ankles and calves from two years ago.

My legs stretch out from beneath my dress. I stare down at my feet with a hollow ache. Slowly, I peel the tights down, revealing the old scars. I don't like looking at them. They drag unpleasant memories back—ugly reminders of pain I try to bury. Not sure if Ciel even knows about them.

I pull the tights back up and stand, legs wobbling. I take a deep breath. The oven timer blares again—a sharp call back to duty.

Groaning, I shuffle over, turn it off, and slip on oven gloves. I lift the cake pans out carefully, proud I don't cry out in pain. I grab a silver fork and poke into both cakes. Perfectly done.

Finny's footsteps rush down the hall. I smile softly as he bursts in, breathless like he's run a marathon. "I-I brought it!" he announces proudly.

I nod gratefully as he sets the aid kit on the counter and opens it. "Thanks, kid. I appreciate it."

I reach to tend my wounds, but Finny gently pushes my hands away with a frown. "No! I-I will wrap them for you!" he says, cheeks coloring.

Stunned, I stand still. "Well, then. I will let you, if you wish."

He beams like a puppy, and I feel a warm glow inside. Finny's more like a man-child than a servant sometimes—well, he is still a boy. He pulls out gauze, and I hold my hands up to him. He carefully and lightly takes one, treating it gently. I don't wince, appreciating his control.

He sticks out his tongue as he unwraps the gauze and wraps it around my hand. When finished, he grabs some surgical tape. "One down, another to go!" he announces seriously.

"When did you learn to patch wounds so well?" I ask, curious.

He concentrates, starting on my other hand like his life depends on it. "I get hurt a lot."

I hum in acceptance. Not surprised. Most servants are bumbling idiots most of the time, but deep down, they're kind. That's why I love them.

Finny finishes with a proud smile. "There! All done! How did I do?!"

I can't help but smile back. "You did well, young one."

He jumps with a joyful 'yay!'—I swear I see sparkles.

"Is the main hall ready?" I ask once he calms down.

He nods quickly. "Yep! We need your cake, that's it!"

I hold my hands up. "Since my hands are hurt, do you want to frost the cake for me?"

He looks uncertain, eyes flickering. "O-Oh, I don't know. Mister Sebastian doesn't usually let me help with the food..."

I pout and give him my best puppy dog eyes, fake sniffle included. "Pretty please, Finny."

His face melts with a blush. "F-Fine! I can do it!"

I let the look slip and walk to the cooler. Opening it slowly, I take out the bowl of frosting and set it on the counter. "I'll tell you how to do it, okay?"

He nods enthusiastically. "Yes!"

"Let's get to frosting!" I giggle.

0o0o0o0o

We all wait in the main hall for the guests, my brother, and Sebastian to enter. My nerves are through the roof—my brother will either be furious or surprised. Maybe a mix of both? He wasn't thrilled when I threw a party last year for his birthday. That was a disaster on my part—I ended up sad drunk, mopey, crying all night...just bad times, really, and I shiver thinking about it.

The servants look just as wrecked as I feel. Finny's dirty from helping me—his face and clothes smudged with dirt and flour. I notice the floor strewn with broken winter roses—just the heads, no stems. Mey-Rin's got bruises too, and I swear I spot a shard of china tangled in her hair. Bard has a legit cast, and I'm guessing he blew something else up while I was gone.

I sigh, taking in the mess around me. I'm not spotless myself—flour dusts my dress and probably my face. No time to clean; I wasn't sure when my brother and the rest would come back.

The cake I made looks amazing. Finny did a great job decorating. I pinned a gold star sticker on his chest—he's beaming with pride. I stuck the candles on to match the age my brother is turning. I wish big number candles existed already; I couldn't write a birthday message because my hands were burned.

Suddenly, I hear Sebastian's voice and footsteps as everyone enters the hall.

"Ah!" the servants and I all exclaim in surprise.

"Welcome back!" Finny calls out excitedly.

Ciel stares at us, a sweat drop sliding down his temple. "What happened? Why does everyone look like this?" His tone is curious, with a pinch of mild concern. He eyes me carefully, fixating on my hands with furrowed eyebrows. I smile stupidly.

"Rina! Your hands," he frets, grabbing them quickly into his own.

I wince and pull them back with an apologetic look. "They got burnt." I mutter lamely.

"What? Why?!" he shouts, the anger barely hidden.

Before I can explain, Finny shoves the cake forward with a huge grin. "This was made by all of us!" he cheers.

I smile warmly at the gesture. "Well, mostly me. But I did have some help." I nod toward the blonde-haired kid beside me.

"Huh?" Ciel utters, confused.

I sigh, hopeless. The servants jump in, explaining what else they did. "We even used roses for decorations!" Finny adds proudly.

"I made donburi filled with the young master's favorite food!" Bard says with a proud puff of his chest.

Ah, so that explains his injuries—I facepalm internally.

"The table setting was done by me," Mey-Rin adds, bashful but smiling.

Sebastian and Ciel both stare at us with deadpan expressions.

I pout, hoping my brother at least feels a flicker of warmth from our efforts. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Francis lurking behind them with a discontent look. The butler-child duo spin around, wary of her reaction.

I know better than to expect my aunt and teacher to care about how the table looks. She values the kindness behind the gesture more than the clumsy surprise.

"Hmph, they're actually one step quicker than me..." Francis sighs, stepping forward. "I came here especially today just to say this." She places a gentle hand atop Ciel's head. "Happy thirteenth birthday, Ciel!" she exclaims with a warm smile.

"Ah, I wanted to be the one to say it," I pout, rushing over to my brother with a big grin. I pull him into a loving hug and nuzzle my face against his. I watch the blush spread over his cheeks as he returns a half-hug. "Happy birthday, to you too," I mutter softly in his ear, so no one else hears the double meaning.

He stills in my grasp and clutches the back of my dress. "Thank you...very much," he says, forcing a smile before letting me go with a knowing look.

I smile warmly, feeling like my cheeks will ache from smiling so much.

"And also, everyone," Francis begins, gazing at my brother and me with a loving look, "...I'll be counting on all of you to take care of my daughter and her husband in the future."

I frown slightly. If only things lasted that long...I sigh deeply.

Then my aunt surprises me. She approaches Sebastian, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sebastian, thanks for all the trouble today."

Sebastian bows deeply, hand to chest, flashing his signature smile. "You're welcome."

"However, there are still things I need to remind you of—the broken tea set, the ridiculously bare garden, as well as the dinner that's been burnt to charcoal...I trust you'll take better care of them." Francis teases, smirking.

Sebastian stands frozen for a moment before smirking himself. "You found out?" he rumbles with a slightly nervous chuckle. "Yes, of course," he admits.

"Let's all party!" Finny shouts with excitement.

I let out a loud 'whoop.' "Hell yeah! Bard, where's the alcohol? I need a drink since my baby brother is getting older."

He snickers, and Francis lets out a sharp 'tsk.' "Rina! That is not lady-like in the least! Watch your profanities!"

I shrug off her scolding while Bard and I chant, "Booze! Booze!" searching the room.

No luck on the table. "Hey! I'm going to the kitchen to find some. Don't start blowing out the candles until I get back!" I shout, rushing out.

"Don't take too long or we'll start without you!" Ciel calls after me with a smirk.

I turn and stick my tongue out at him with a childish giggle. Jogging to the kitchen—not far away—I open the door. Sebastian stands there by the counter with a cake beside him, looking a bit surprised to be caught mid-frosting—his fingertip poised with chocolate frosting, about to lick it off.

I raise an eyebrow. "While that cake looks amazing, can you even eat it?" I ask, approaching him.

His expression turns impassive. "Yes, though I doubt it will taste the same for me as it does for you."

That's when I notice—his glove is off for the first time, revealing a pentagram etched on the top side of his hand. I stare curiously and grasp his wrist, bringing it closer to my eyes. Strange characters fill the symbol's interior—I can't tell what they say or what language it is. Maybe Latin?

"What does it say?"

"I do not have to tell," he responds coolly.

I pout a little but drop the subject. It must be personal. "Does every demon have one?"

"If contracted, yes."

I hum thoughtfully before taking his frosted fingertip to my lips. I lick it off with one swipe and then let go. Why did I just do that? Have I really lost my mind? I avoid his gaze, afraid my blush will betray me under his intense stare.

"It's yummy..." I mutter softly, screaming inside. What the actual fuck am I saying and doing?! Control! Brain to mouth, control yourself!

Before I know it, he grabs my chin, tilting my head up to meet his eyes. Panic floods me. My heart races like a rocket. His ungloved thumb rises, pressing gently on my lower lip.

"I wonder what you taste like..." he hums.

I blush hard, my mind going to places it shouldn't. H-Hold up, HOLD THE PHONE! WHAT?!

"U-Uh..." I stammer dumbly, begging my brain to get out of the gutter.

Suddenly, I laugh awkwardly and push him away, though part of me wants him closer for reasons I don't understand. "T-Taste? Me? I probably taste like trash," I joke, chuckling nervously.

I walk away but feel his heated gaze follow me.

I try to ignore it with every fiber as I find the wine.

I grab two bottles—maybe three, after that.

Silence fills the room. I make a swift, quiet escape. Bard cheers when I bring the wine back. I try to forget the odd moment as Ciel glares at me, tapping his foot.

"What took you so long?" he asks, irritation thick in his voice.

"You waited?"

"...Shut up and get over here," he growls, and I smile at his sass.

After singing the birthday song, we all give him presents. By now, I'm pretty buzzed, and Bard's right behind me. I keep giggling manically, calling my brother adorable who knows how many times. His blush never gets old, and his flustered look makes me smile even more. He really likes my gift, and that makes me super happy.

Eventually, the party winds down. The servants start cleaning, and I walk back with Ciel to his room, gifts cradled in my arms.

"Hmm.~ I can't believeee you're so old-d..." I slur, stumbling slightly down the hallway.

He sighs loudly. "And I can't believe you can't hold your alcohol."

"Sssh!~ I neverrr dri-nk."

"If you did more often, I'd lock you in your bedroom."

I pout with a hiccup. "That's not nice.~"

I trip over my foot but catch myself before flying off into space. Oh yes, space, pretty stars! "Let's go to the moonnnnnnn!~" I shout.

He winces and scowls. "Stop being stupid!"

"I'm n-ot stup-id. We can go to the moon!"

He pinches his nose. "I'm never giving you wine ever again. Especially last year, when you started crying nonstop."

I drop the gifts with a giggle and hold out my arms like a rocket. "Get on board! We'reeee going to the mooon!~" I sing, squealing as I fly down the hallway.

"Rina! Knock it off! Stop acting like a child!" he thunders, irritation flaring as he picks up the gifts.

"Feni! Wh-en we go to the moon, we can li-ve there. Where no on-e can...touch uss. We float!" I keep slurring, drifting into my tipsy thoughts.

"Don't call me that! You know better!" he snaps, marching toward me. I lean against the wall. When did I get here? I wonder if I'm sleepy now. "Humans can't go to the moon," he says seriously. "So knock it off with the childish thoughts."

I frown. "We can, and we will. And the view is amazing! Earth is sooooooooo big!" I exclaim, gesturing wide.

He stares, confused. Then his gaze narrows strangely—I can't quite place the look. Suddenly, I blurt, "I love youuuuuuu!" with a warm smile.

All I hear is a deep sigh, and I catch a smirk aimed right at me.

Chapter Text

With my snow boots laced tight, I kick a spray of powdery snow straight at Bard with a wicked snicker. It splashes up around his legs, clinging to the fabric of his trousers. He shoots me a scowl sharp enough to freeze water.

I duck behind Finny like a child dodging a snowball and stick out my tongue with full dramatic flair.

"Get over here!" Bard shouts, already scooping up a handful of snow. He's definitely about to make a snowball.

"Um…let me think about that." I smirk, pretending to debate it while inching away from Finny's side. I pause just long enough for him to hope—then bolt. "How 'bout no?!" I laugh.

My breath puffs out in visible bursts, curling around my cheeks like fleeting fog. Behind me, I hear the crunch of boots pounding against the snow as Bard gives chase. Bard, you're such a sissy.

I fake a wheeze, slowing my pace like I'm winded. Good thing I'm not actually in a corset right now, or else I would be gasping for real—but he doesn't know that, thanks to the bulk of my winter coat.

"I got you now!" he calls out behind me, triumphant.

I glance over my shoulder, feigning panic. He's a lot closer than I expected—damn, he's really sprinting. Rookie mistake, Bard.

If there's one rule in this world, it's never underestimate your opponent. I juke him hard to the left, aiming straight for the manor.

His yell of frustration echoes behind me—then abruptly cuts off with a loud 'oof.'

I stop and spin around.

He's facedown in the snow.

I throw a hand to my mouth, trying and failing to hold back a laugh. "T-That's what you get!" I call between snorts, pointing shamelessly at his slumped figure.

He rises slowly, snow clinging to his skin like vengeance, eyes locked on me with a glare hot enough to melt the whole damn back yard. "Mey-Rin! Finny! Attack her!"

Oh no.

My blood runs cold. Two familiar forms shift at the edge of my vision, their gazes locked in like predators.

S-Scary!

I wave my hands in surrender. "W-Wait!" I yelp, panic overtaking me.

Too late.

They barrel toward me, unstoppable, and I hit the snow with a shriek. The cold rushes through my coat and pants like a shockwave. They're grinning like maniacs above me as laughter spills out of my chest.

Eventually, they get off and tumble away into another snow fight. I stay where I am, limbs splayed as I start carving out a snow angel. My fingers ache with numbness—but it's the good kind. The clouds above are thick and gray, but I feel light somehow, the kind of weightlessness you only get in the middle of winter.

Then I sense it.

Crunch. Footsteps—measured, deliberate—and approaching.

A shape cuts into my peripheral vision. Black and stark.

Oh no.

I turn my head.

Sebastian stands above me, the picture of judgment. His eyes narrow as he looks down with a sigh. "My lady, what are you doing?"

I move my arms and legs, deepening the angel I've carved. "Playing in the snow. Same as last year."

"You are not a child, no?"

I stick out my tongue, just to be annoying. "I can be."

He sighs again, like a man burdened with impossible tasks. I sit up and brush snow from my coat with a scoff. "Do you even know what fun is?"

"Yes, and I do not care for it."

I scowl. "Do you have seasonal depression or something? Is that what this is?"

"What?"

That gets him. The confusion on his face is almost worth the cold. Maybe he does have it. Christmas is coming up—I don't imagine it mixes well with a demon's aesthetic. I personally only like Christmas for the food and gifts.

Grinning, I bend down and scoop up some fresh snow. I pack it into a ball as I eye him curiously. "Do you like snow, Sebastian?"

"Not particularly..."

Too bad.

I whip the snowball at him. He dodges with a tight scowl, but I'm already moving, taking the opening to rush him. I tackle him to the ground in a thud of tangled limbs and snowy impact, straddling his waist with a triumphant smirk.

His eyes flash with irritation—annoyance, maybe something darker—but his hands land firmly on my hips. Oddly firm. I don't focus on that though. Something cold hits my forehead and I blink.

Snowflakes.

They're beginning to fall—thin and slow at first. I raise a hand to catch one. "Snowflakes are so pretty," I murmur with a soft smile. "Did you know that every snowflake is different in design?"

He sits up beneath me, brushing snow off his coat, watching me with something more like curiosity. "This is common knowledge."

More flakes settle into my hair, melting softly against the warmth of my scalp. I gaze at the ones landing in my palm. "I suppose so. But it doesn't change the fact they're all unique, yet still snow. The same, but not."

"Much like you humans."

That makes me pause. I tilt my head and shift on his lap. "How so?"

He picks up a messy lock of my hair, it's damp. "Humans vary. Whether it be personality, skin tone, hair color, physical features, or emotions. All different from one another. All tasteless beings who are greedy and thoughtless. They all work the same in the end." he adds with a sneer.

I frown. "Idiot." I flick his forehead. "You need to open your eyes more. Judgmental, biased creature. You demons only ever seem to meet the rotten ones."

His eyes narrow, and he glares at the hand I've just used to flick him. "You are blind to your own kind."

I snort, quiet but firm. "No, Sebastian. You're the one blinded by us."

His eyes widen for just a second before narrowing again. "This debate is pointless."

"I know you are."

He scowls and retaliates by shoveling snow in my face. The icy chill makes me shriek and shiver, my teeth chattering as I wipe slush from my eyes.

"Y-You asshol-e," I sputter.

He smirks down at me, victorious. Then he lightly smacks the back of my head.

"Language, my lady."

0o0o0o0o

After a long, hot bath to thaw out from the snow fight, my nose won't stop running. That bastard demon gave me a cold. It's been years—years!—since I've been sick. Not since the twins were little. I wrap myself in soft black pants—heavier than anything I normally wear—and a light pink sweatshirt, both warm and comforting. My body still trembles with lingering chills.

Ciel received a letter from the Queen this morning. Now we're heading to London by carriage. I tug my thick winter cloak tightly around me, hiding my suspiciously casual outfit beneath. If either of them saw the sweatshirt, I'd never hear the end of it.

The ride is long. Freezing. Miserable.

I cough lightly, trying not to draw attention. But it doesn't last.

"Rina, are you okay? You look kind of pale," Ciel asks, folding his paper into his lap.

I nod and burrow deeper into my cloak, the fur tickling my jaw. The coughing only gets worse. His eyes narrow with concern.

"Don't tell me you're sick."

"…Sadly, I think so."

He frowns, hard. I cough again into the fold of my cloak, away from him. I can't risk him getting sick—if his asthma returns, it'd be my fault.

"Why didn't you say anything? I'll have Sebastian prepare medicine and tea when we get back."

My stomach drops. "No! Anything but medicine—!" My protest breaks into more coughing. He starts to get up, but I shove him back into his seat.

"Sorry, I just…I don't want to get you sick too."

"You will take medicine. I don't care if I have to shove it down your throat by force."

I sink into my seat, defeated. God, he's terrifying when he goes full older brother mode. I cry internally.

When we finally arrive in town, Sebastian helps us down from the carriage. I hug myself tightly, breath shallow, limbs heavy with fatigue. I trail after the others, sniffling like a broken faucet, trying not to whine about how utterly shitty I feel.

Then I see it.

Bodies. Hanging from the awning of a shop. Four of them.

I gasp, frozen in place.

Commissioner Randall is already there, ranting at another man. I squint—Aberline, I think. Randall clenches a paper in his fist, jaw tight with frustration. "Damn it! This is the twentieth one now! You haven't apprehended the culprit yet, Aberline?!"

"My apologies!" Aberline says quickly.

"Feh, and the glory of catching Jack the Ripper was stolen from us also by that little brat," Randall sneers.

I roll my eyes and scoff. "Oh look, brother! The poor chief is still terrible at his job."

Randall turns, startled. I stand beside Ciel with arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. He smirks, adjusting his hat. "Nothing new here then. Sorry for being such a brat."

"Earl Phantomhive! Lady Phantomhive!"

I inch closer to Ciel and cough lightly, hiding behind my cloak.

"Hey, you! How the hell did you get here?" Aberline asks, shocked.

Randall raises a hand to silence him. "Lord and Lady Phantomhive, why are you here?"

"Heh. Isn't it obvious? We're here to clean up the mess made by an old pathetic hunting dog."

I let out a soft snicker. My brother, ever savage. I spot some documents in Aberline's grip and snatch them. His jaw drops.

"What the—?!"

"Hm, is that so…" I murmur, flipping through the contents. I hand the papers off to Ciel.

"A crime targeted only at people who have returned to England from India. I see the victims aren't dead."

I frown deeply. Indians have been in London for a long time now. And yet the British treat them like pawns. Slaves. If there's one thing about being human that disgusts me, it's this: our capacity for cruelty.

I mutter under my breath, "England would be better off not invading other countries in general and staking claims altogether…"

Sebastian, reading over Ciel's shoulder, glances at me. "That's quite an opinion."

I glance up. "It's the right kind. Don't even get me started on this bullshit train of interculturalism in this era."

He raises an eyebrow but continues reading the papers. I lean over Ciel's shoulder, curious about the one he's holding now.

"They are cowards who were too busy with extravagance and indulged in worthless pastimes. Most of the upper-class people in so-called Great Britain." Randall drones after a brief pause.

My gaze drops to the bottom of the page in Ciel's hands. There's a strange symbol printed there, one that oddly reminds me of a tongue. I stick my own out at my brother, and he mirrors the motion with a smug look. "Upper class, how worthless. Anyways, what is this mark?" he asks.

"Reminds me of a tongue," I say plainly, tapping the symbol. "He's either mocking us or it's a legit symbol for something else."

A vein twitches at Randall's temple. "He's making a fool of us—the British! And the Queen! What an idiot! Targeting those returning from India means the criminal can't be anyone other than a vulgar Indian barbarian!" he snaps, voice rising in rage.

I bristle. His words hit like a slap. How dare he? Heat floods my face despite the chill in the air, and I glare at him, fists tightening. "Excuse me?! How do you know it was an Indian?!" I shout, practically steaming.

He glares right back. "Well, who else could it be?!"

I raise my fist and shake it at him. "Maybe if you opened your blinded eyes, you'd have more options to narrow—!"

Suddenly, my breath catches. I cough violently and double over, clutching my side like someone knocked the wind out of me.

"Rina!" Ciel cries, rushing to my side with a hand on my back.

I straighten slowly, gently brushing him off. "I—I'm fine. I'm okay," I manage between breaths.

He watches me, wary, ready to step in if I fall again. Randall looks like a tomato about to burst, which only makes my victorious grin grow wider. One point for me.

Aberline steps closer, and I instinctively stiffen, eyeing him like he's up to something. But he just scratches the back of his head with a sheepish smile and offers me a cough drop. "Here."

I nod my thanks and pop it into my mouth. Immediately regret it. Tastes like chemicals and gravel.

"So that's the reason you called me out here?" Aberline asks, turning to Randall, a visible sweatdrop sliding down his temple.

Ciel pulls me a little closer, making sure I stay by him. Sebastian is right beside us, like a quiet shadow.

"A majority of smuggling Indians have a stronghold in the East End," Ciel says, his voice steady. "I can see even city yards don't know what to do with a dark street like that. It's hard to identify the route and the exact number of smugglers, right?"

He glances at me, then Sebastian. "So I'll make a move in my own way. I want to return to the manor house quickly. Sebastian, did you memorize those documents?"

"Yes." Sebastian replies with a polite smile and a small bow.

"Let's go then, Sebastian, Rina."

I follow beside them, still sucking on that nasty cough drop. It tastes worse by the second. I groan.

"Ugh, it tastes bad."

"That's what you get for playing in the snow," Ciel scolds with a disapproving tsk.

I pout and fold my arms. "Blame your butler. He's the one who literally dumped snow on top of me."

Ciel smirks. "And who's the one who goaded him?"

"Hmph! Not my fault he wasn't on his guard."

"Hah…?"

"That's right! I took him down with my body. You should've seen it. Not every human can say they tackled a demon to the ground." I smirk proudly at the memory.

A chill pricks the back of my neck. Yep. There's that distinct murderous demon energy again.

"My lady." Sebastian's voice slices through the air like glass. I freeze. A shiver races down my spine, and I feel a flicker of fear rise. "I would appreciate it if you did not spread lies about me."

My eye twitches. "What?! I did so tackle you to the ground!" I spin toward him, walking backward now. "Who's to say I didn't?"

He arches a brow, smug as ever. "Who's to say I did not let you?"

I blink. Huh. I hadn't considered that. He thinks he's won, the bastard. But I narrow my eyes and match his smirk.

"Who's to say you're telling the whole truth?"

He looks intrigued. "Please, do enlighten me."

I yank him down by his tie, bringing his face to mine. His eyes go wide.

"I think you didn't fully expect my mode of attack," I say slowly. "Because why would you let me push you down? A full-grown demon letting a puny human knock him over? Not likely. So, either you didn't expect it…or you wanted it. There's no in between."

Before he can respond, Ciel cuts in sharply, "You two, honestly. Stop your bickering!"

I release Sebastian with a shrug and walk alongside Ciel again. One annoying demon, one cranky brother—what a day.

I can feel Sebastian's glare burning holes into my back as we walk. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake it off. Eventually, curiosity gets the better of me.

"So, where are we headed?" I ask.

"Lau's den."

I blanch. "You're kidding, right?"

"Does it sound like I am?"

My face twists with distaste. "I forbid you from entering that—that place."

He glares up at me. "You can't tell me what to do."

I raise a brow at his sass. "You will listen. Don't forget who you're talking to."

He meets my stare, defiant. "You don't get to order me about."

I scoff. "Excuse me? Wanna repeat that?"

He falters for a moment, then firms his expression again. "I can do what I want, when I want."

"Oho!~ Look at you. And who told you that?"

He ignores me, so I grab his elbow and yank him to a stop. "Please, enlighten me. What gave you such an idea?"

"You say it all the time."

I gape at him. "That's because I can. You, on the other hand, cannot."

"I have earned it!" he yells.

"You're grounded when we get back home," I say flatly.

"What?! You can't ground me!"

"I can and I will. You clearly need a reminder. Sebastian and I have been spoiling you way too much."

"You're not my mother!" he shouts.

That stops me cold. He storms ahead without looking back. I stare after him, the words lingering like smoke in the air.

His mother…huh.

I sigh, the fight draining out of me. Sebastian steps beside me, his gaze also on Ciel's retreating back.

"You are not wrong," he mutters.

I glance at him, caught off guard.

"That boy needs to learn not to be selfish."

"You humans are all selfish," he replies, tone unreadable. "It does not matter how much."

I frown. "I don't care. That mindset's dangerous—especially at his age."

"Does he not deserve such rights?" he muses. "Perhaps you don't realize it."

"What do you mean?"

"The young master will die at some point. Is it not acceptable by human standards to be selfish in that regard?"

His eyes glitter, something mysterious and dark simmering beneath his smile.

I start walking again, Sebastian falling into step beside me. "In my eyes, no. What right does a child have to be so selfish that no one can push back?"

I glance toward Ciel's slumped figure.

"If there's one thing you should know about my kind, Sebastian…It's that no human learns without being told no. 'No, you can't do that.' It's how we figure out the world. It's how we learn how to be human."

"So simpleminded," he comments with a slight smirk.

"Yet, so useful." I rebuke, returning it with a small smile of my own. "I don't know how long you've been alive, but you still have a lot to learn. I wouldn't mind being the one to teach you."

His eyes widen just a fraction—there's a faint intake of breath—before he masks the reaction behind a calm, unreadable face.

"My, my. It seems you have enraptured me with your knowledge. You are the most unique in many ways."

"You're not the first to say that." I chuckle, momentarily drawn back into memory—Vincent's startled face the day he met my younger self. That memory will never lose its shine.

Ciel halts ahead of us by a weathered door, ignoring my presence entirely as usual. He waits just long enough for us to join him.

"We have arrived," he announces flatly.

I fold my arms with a frown. "If you need information, send Sebastian inside to gather it. I won't allow you to go into an opium den."

Predictably, he shoots another glare in my direction before turning toward the demon. "Sebastian, open the door. We are going inside."

Sebastian bows, his smirk sharpening. "Yes, my lord."

He lifts his hand toward the door—but I grab the back of his coat, yanking hard. Or...trying to. He doesn't budge an inch. It's like trying to pull a statue from the earth. Did he superglue his boots to the ground?

My brows knit in frustration. I dig deeper, calling up my superhuman strength, and pull again. This time he shifts—barely—before cementing himself in place once more.

"Sebastian, don't listen to him!" I growl, trying to wedge myself between him and the door.

He simply smiles at me, infuriatingly serene. "But the young master commands me to."

I let go, fingers slipping off the dark fabric as I step back in defeat. Ciel knows he's won this round, and the smug look on his face says everything. I narrow my eyes at him. "You think I'm going to roll over that easily? Fine. Go on. Breathe in every poisonous chemical you can. But once we're back at the manor, you'll wish you hadn't." I hiss, and shove past them both, reaching for the damn door myself.

Untying the scarf around my neck, I rewrap it over my mouth like a makeshift mask. That miracle cough drop from earlier is still doing its job, but I can already feel the air in here threatening to undo it. The opium stink is going to wreck my lungs.

Stupid brother. Stupid demon. Neither of them ever listens.

And why would they? I'm just a girl—one who happens to be smarter than the both of them combined. But oh no, logic is no match for masculine ego.

The staircase beneath my feet echoes with every step I take, sounds ricocheting off the walls. I can hear them following behind me, the cadence of their footfalls calm, calculated.

At the base, I exhale sharply and reach for the heavy double doors. They creak on their hinges, moaning like the place itself resents our intrusion. The wave of smoke and stale perfume that hits me is...suffocating. I cough, gagging lightly into the scarf. It's thick in here—hazy with human heat, incense, and opium.

Men moan from hidden corners. Somewhere, someone laughs. A shadow stirs near the back.

"Lady Phantomhive? It is a surprise you are here as well as finding this place." Lau's voice slices through the fog like a blade.

"I'm not here for what you think," I respond flatly. "But I am not here alone."

"What an awful smell," Ciel mutters behind me.

"Earl. It feels kinda weird for you to see this way. However, I knew the day would come." Lau croons.

Through the thick haze, I finally make out Lau's figure—and instantly regret doing so. He's buried in women, limbs tangled together like a brothel centerpiece. I sputter, a bit horrified.

"And what kind of day is this?" I ask, trying not to look too closely.

"Welcome Earl, Lady! Long time no see!" Lau says cheerfully, dodging my question completely.

The women slip away one by one until only Ran-Mao remains, nestled calmly in his lap, her fingers lazily wrapped around a smoking pipe.

"How you been? Ah! Wasn't it your birthday recently? Congrats. ~" Lau adds with a grin.

Ciel shifts slightly. "I don't really care about such things. I have something to ask you, though."

As they speak, a woman drifts toward Sebastian and me, holding out a pipe already trailing smoke.

"Want a smoke?" she purrs, looking me up and down.

I recoil instinctively. "No, I'm good," I mutter, resisting the urge to wave the smoke away. Sebastian, always polite, raises a hand and declines as well. She disappears into the haze.

"The president of the British Branch of the Chinese trading company, KunLun...no. Shanghai mafia, Qingbang executive, Lau." Ciel recites with a stern expression.

"What? I didn't know you ran a mafia in Shanghai," I blurt, blinking in disbelief.

"Hoho~ Surprised, little lady?" Lau's grin sharpens with amusement.

I scowl. "I am surprised. I didn't think an idiot like you could run such a business."

He gasps theatrically, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Ouch! The lady is so mean! I don't really like being addressed as so though—it's too formal. Right, Ran-Mao?" He lifts her chin gently, smiling.

I exhale in exasperation. Moron.

"I'll leave the East End in your care. The numbers of people who move in and out of this street are in your control, right?" Ciel asks, steering the conversation back.

"Of course, I have done as you asked. It's the bribe that allows me to do business in the underworld of this country."

"So."

"Well firstly, I also want to ask you one thing."

I tilt my head. "And that is?"

"What exactly is 'that' incident?" Lau asks innocently.

I drag a hand down my face. Of course. Of course he has no clue.

"You…" Ciel mutters, visibly annoyed.

"Typical of a yes-man," Sebastian adds, sighing lightly.

Great. Now we have to explain everything from the top. Again.

0o0o0o0o

The streets of London bustle around us, lined with people preoccupied by routine—shopping, hurrying to work, living simple lives. For a moment, I envy them. Just for a moment. My cold lingers like a curse, and the chill air worsens it. All I want is a blanket and silence.

I trail behind the group—a Chinese man, a British child, and a demon. Sounds like the setup for a very bad joke.

Lau hums thoughtfully. "I see. You want to arrest that mischievous kid. Since there are no casualties it must be because he's targeted upper-class citizens or soldiers. Setting an example for the common people? It must be tiring for you, Earl."

"Nonsense." Ciel answers automatically.

"Nonetheless, we have walked for a long time now. So where is this stronghold of Indian people?" Sebastian asks, tone still pleasant.

The buildings grow more crumbled the farther we go. This part of London bears its poverty in plain sight—broken windows, soot-stained walls. A harsh place to survive.

"The quicker we get out of here, the faster we can return home. Let's hurry this, yes." I plead, rubbing my arms.

"I agree. I wish to return as well," Ciel echoes.

"Sorry, I think I got lost in the conversation. So it seems that we are lost now!" Lau admits with a ridiculous grin.

I stop in my tracks. "Great, just what we need." My glare could sear through stone.

Ciel bristles beside me. "Why you…"

"I guess we'll have to go back to the manor and—" I start, until something crashes into me from the side. Hard.

A man in rags—grimy, angry—staggers back. His eyes catch on my jewelry.

He drops to the ground with a pained cry, clutching his ribs. "It hurts! My ribs cracked!"

"…Hah?" I deadpan, already fed up.

"Someone come and help!" he screams, drawing a crowd.

Fingers point. Accusations fly. My temple throbs with fury. I am done. I am beyond done. I wanted to rest, not this circus.

I ball my fists at my sides, shaking as a ring of strangers surrounds us. The man looks up and smirks.

He lunges, grabbing my cloak and yanking me close. "Showing up in a place like this…you're asking for it! That's quite a nice necklace you got there, woman. A noble, eh?"

His breath reeks. His voice scrapes my eardrums.

"Rina!" Ciel hisses beside me, but I don't look away. My blood is thrumming.

The man snarls, "Pay me consolation money! Strip off everything you have and give it to me!"

Then—snap.

A gloved hand closes around his wrist and peels him off me with graceful ease.

"Please, do not touch my lady so carelessly," Sebastian says, smiling that dangerous smile of his. His touch crackles against my skin, grounding me. Something in his tone is...furious.

"It seems we are caught amongst some irritating punks yet again, young master. Shall I…?" he asks calmly, but the promise beneath his words is anything but gentle.

"Dispose of them right away." Ciel orders.

"As you wish."

The man who faked his injury isn't done yet. "I'll tell you, all of us here despise nobles. They all brought us all the way to England and then they dumped us like trash!" he shouts, veins bulging in his temples. "All you British are selfish!"

A chorus of angry agreement rises from the other Indian men around us. I feel a flicker of sympathy—no one deserves to be treated like garbage, not by anyone. That much, I get. But it doesn't excuse what this man just tried to do to me. The fury still burns hot under my skin.

"Our country was walked all over by your shoes! We'll give you a taste of how it feels to be plundered and humiliated!" His voice sharpens with hate as he lifts a dagger into the air, filled with righteous anger.

I watch, arms crossed, unimpressed despite myself. It's not that I don't understand their pain—I do.

But there's something self-righteous and arrogant in the way he speaks that grates on me. All of them nod along, caught up in their collective resentment, and it pisses me off more than I expect.

Then the man starts rambling about food, and the tension fizzles out with confusion. Everyone sweat drops. What? Where is this even going?

"Wait a sec! That's not how it goes...!" The group swivels, shouting in unison, and turns to glare at two Indian men standing behind them—men we all mistook for the original loudmouth.

"So, yea, guys, we're searching for someone. Have you seen any Indians who look like this?" the younger man asks casually. He wears opulent, formal Indian clothing and looks like he's around my age, maybe a bit younger. His companion is a towering man with white hair—so tall I momentarily wonder if he's moonlighting from the NBA.

But the image the younger man holds up? Not what I was expecting.

I snort softly and tug on Sebastian's sleeve, rising onto my toes to whisper, "Am I allowed to laugh?"

He glances down with an amused smirk. "It is quite the sight," he murmurs, and I can't help the quiet snicker that escapes me. It turns into a cough, though—my throat's still raw. Sebastian's eyes flick to me briefly, almost concerned, but I probably imagined it.

The thug who slammed into me earlier suddenly lunges forward, dagger out. "What the?! You're in the way, you bastard!"

The young Indian man barely flinches. He leans back, arms folded. "Eh? How rude…calling me such impolite things." His gaze shifts to us, narrowing as he scans our attire. "He has a butler...you are British nobles?"

"So, what if we are?" Ciel replies coolly.

The young man doesn't move an inch. "Then, I shall side with the people of my country." His voice carries a new sharpness. "Agni…"

The tall man bows, fist to heart like a knight in shining armor. "Yes."

"Defeat them."

I tense as Agni calmly begins to unravel the bandages around his arms. "Your wish is my command. I will swing this fist blessed by the Gods for master's sake." he says with eerie calm.

He moves faster than I can register. I barely have time to react, but Sebastian is quicker—he pushes me aside and raises his arm, blocking Agni's blow with ease. My breath catches. No one moves like that—no one except Sebastian. And now...this man?

"What the—!" Ciel yelps, startled, but Sebastian scoops him up effortlessly, cradling him with one arm.

He turns toward me next, hand reaching out to carry me too—but before he can, the same thug from earlier grabs me and yanks me close. I shriek, his foul breath hot in my ear. It sends waves of disgust through me, makes my skin crawl. He chuckles, low and husky, and for a moment I forget all about the fight behind us.

Then I see the other men circling us, eyes gleaming with sick curiosity.

"Looky here, fellas. A noble bitch, what should we do with her?"

"She looks mighty pretty, just what you expect from the higher class."

"I wonder what's underneath that fancy garb..."

One of them yanks at my cloak as I struggle, but another presses a knife to my throat. I freeze, trembling, my cloak falling to the dirt. I start coughing again—too much exertion for a body barely functioning through fever. They stare, confused by my strange, loose clothes.

That's when I strike.

I slam my head backward into the man holding me. He yelps in pain and loosens his grip. I grab the wrist of the one with the knife and twist hard—there's a sickening snap.

He screams and drops to the ground. The others gape at me, fear slowly replacing malice in their eyes. I grin coldly as they scramble away like rats.

I stalk back to the first guy and plant my foot on his chest, pressing down with enough force to draw a strangled gasp from him.

"P-Please h-have mercy!" he whimpers.

I tilt my head, feeling a little sadistic. "Honestly, men are pathetic." My voice is ice as I push harder, hearing something crunch beneath my shoe.

"Oops! ~ I think your rib really is broken." I coo.

He howls.

"My lady!" Sebastian's voice cuts through the moment. I look up, startled—and just in time to see a blur of white hair flying at me. Sebastian intercepts the attack again, blocking Agni with practiced ease.

Agni frowns, momentarily thrown. "I've hit all your Marman countless times. Your arm should be paralyzed. How is it that you can still fight?"

"Sebastian, are you okay?!" I ask, my concern slipping through before I can stop it.

He glances at me and offers a small, almost fond smile. "Yes. I do not deserve your concern, my lady."

"Well, I am thankful either way. It's the least I can do."

Ciel interrupts with a scowl, still cradled in Sebastian's arm. "Hey! Sebastian, let me down!" he snaps. "We had barely stepped foot in this place and those guys picked a fight with us! Do all Indians act like barbarians and indiscriminately attack the British?!"

The young man raises a brow, confused. "What?" He turns to his countrymen. "You lot! Did you actually attack this kid for no reason?"

"More like he attacked me personally…" I mutter, dusting off my cloak. The two men I fought are groaning in pain, barely able to stand. Good.

"Eh? Reason?" one of them echoes dumbly.

"That's not right! Picking fights without reason is childish!" the young man scolds, then looks at Agni. "Agni! Our brothers are the wrong ones here. We shall help this kid now!"

We all gape at him. The sudden turn in allegiance leaves us speechless. Is this guy serious?

"Yes, sir!" Agni replies without hesitation.

In a matter of seconds, Agni subdues every last thug, piling their battered bodies neatly. "It is done, Lord Soma!" he announces proudly.

We stare, dumbfounded.

"That's right! So, I hope you guys aren't hurt or anything?" Soma says cheerfully, retrieving Ciel's top hat and jamming it back onto his head.

"Er, no," Sebastian replies with a sweatdrop.

"Not particularly…" I mutter, still dazed.

"Also, kid," Soma says, turning to Ciel and slapping the hat into place. "This kind of area isn't the place for a kid to wander about. Anywhoo, I'm in the middle of a search so I need to split. See ya."

What…just happened?

As they walk off, the silence lingers like an aftershock.

"Yaa, those two are amazing," a voice drawls from above.

I glance up. "Ah! That's where you went!" I shout, spotting Lau lounging on a rooftop.

"And what exactly have you been doing?" Ciel asks, visibly irritated.

Lau hops down with a smile. "Meh. Just waiting for the right chance to jump in."

"I call bullshit," I mutter, glaring at him.

Lau throws an arm around my shoulder playfully. "Why, little lady, I wouldn't dare lie. ~"

I shove him off. "That's not something I'd believe from a man who never smiles with his eyes open."

His smirk widens impossibly. I roll my eyes and drift toward the moaning pile of men. Most of them are out cold. I poke one gently with the toe of my shoe, half-listening to the others.

"By the way, who exactly were those two men?" Ciel asks, still rattled.

"They are definitely not people who live in the East End," Lau answers. "Also, they wear pretty dresses. Their English accent is pretty too."

Sebastian comes to stand beside me. I glance sideways at him as he kneels beside the unconscious men.

"Something's not right about that man," I murmur.

"Perhaps," he says, smirking faintly.

"Oh well," Ciel sighs. "It looks like our first job is to deliver these people to the Yard."

0o0o0o0o

We decide to go to the townhouse, not wanting to travel all the way back to the manor. I'm utterly exhausted—the second my foot crosses the threshold, I feel ready to collapse.

As I walk further inside, I start undoing the tie of my cloak. "Ahhh, I'm so happy to be home and warm." I murmur, letting my voice soak in the comfort of it.

Even though I'm warm now, my head still throbs like a bitch. Pretty sure I've got a low fever. That snowy trip earlier definitely didn't help. Ciel looks just as tired. "How tiresome." he drawls, voice flat.

Unfortunately, Lau decided to tag along with us. Sebastian takes my cloak without a word. I give him a small, tired smile in thanks—only for it to get interrupted by a cough.

Ciel glances over with slight concern. "Rina, you should go rest upstairs. You look horrible."

I scowl, dragging a hand through my tangled hair. "Gee, thanks."

He crosses his arms, instantly irritated. "Feh! Fancy calling me out to London because of this boring case."

Lau chuckles and steps closer to my brother. "Well, you can't help but bark if there is any sort of threat to the Queen. This is part of being a pitiful watchdog, isn't it, Earl?"

Before Ciel can spit back a retort, the servants rush into the main foyer in sync, "Welcome back!"

"I see you brought all the servants this time." Lau observes with mild surprise.

I sweatdrop. Yeah, there's a reason we brought them—leave them alone in the manor and the place would be wrecked by morning. Sebastian seems to share the same thought. His expression turns grim.

"Yes, they would end up more of a burden eventually if we left them at home," Sebastian explains.

"More like there wouldn't be a home to come back to." I toss in.

I glance over at Mey-Rin, noticing her discomfort because of Lau. I decide to take Ciel's suggestion to heart. "Mey-Rin, can you draw me a bath in my bedroom?" I ask, coughing lightly into my sleeve.

Her brow furrows in concern. "Yes! Are you alright?"

I approach her, and we begin climbing the stairs together. "I caught a cold."

She gasps and places her hand against my forehead. "Oh dear, yes! You are burning up quite a bit."

I sigh, letting my head hang. "I had a feeling."

Once we reach my room, she slips into the adjoining bath. I start undressing quickly behind the bed curtain—thank god I wore a dress today.

A couple minutes later, she returns just as I'm tying the sash on my fuzzy blue robe. "It's ready to go!" she announces brightly.

"Thanks, really." I murmur, walking past her.

"Is there anything else you need?" she asks just before I head inside.

"Hm…maybe ask Sebastian to bring me my favorite tea later?"

She nods and curtsies before slipping out.

I sigh as warm steam curls from the open door. A bath sounds perfect right now. I shrug off my robe and ease into the water. Holy shit, this feels divine. I dunk my hair under and lather in the hair soap, letting it sit while I rest my head against the back of the tub.

My eyes drift shut, but soon I hear muffled voices outside the bathroom. They're loud. My eyes snap open. The door—I left it cracked to let out the steam. Oh my god. Who the hell is in my room right now?! I told everyone I was taking a bath!

Rinsing the soap out of my hair in record time, I shoot to my feet, snatch a towel, and scrub myself dry as fast as I can. I wrap my hair into a towel turban and yank my robe back on, the tub still full behind me.

I can't make out the reply, but I definitely hear Ciel: "You can't stay in this room! This is Rina's bedroom! Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?!"

I storm out, pushing the door open wide. My glare sweeps across the room. The entire group falls silent at the sight of me in my robe—cheeks going red. Well, most of them. Sebastian just glares at me instead.

And that's when I spot Soma and Agni. In my room. Apparently staying with us now?

I sigh and press a palm to my forehead. My fever's definitely worse. And frankly, I don't give a damn about my outfit right now as long as I'm covered.

"What is everyone doing here?" I groan loudly.

Soma beams at me. Why is he smiling? "Ciel will be hosting us in turn for saving him."

I blink, incredulous. "You can't stay here," I say flatly. "Find another room."

His smile falters. Clearly not used to being told what to do. Great. Another spoiled brat—this one more entitled than Ciel, which is really saying something.

"I like this room though; I shall sleep here."

My eye twitches. I'm ready to claw him out of my bed. "Miss Rina! This person's a prince!" Finny exclaims in awe.

Whatever rage I had fizzles into disbelief. I stare at Soma. "You're joking?"

Finny shakes his head, eyes still wide as Soma lounges smugly on my bed. "I'm going to stay here for a while, midgets."

Did he just call us midgets?

"Then, as a symbol of our new friendship, this Agni will serve you, Chai!" Agni announces, chipper. Ugh, not Chai. I want my favorite tea. The kind Sebastian makes. "On a cold day, Chai tea with ginger can be great!"

Agni bolts out. Sebastian follows quickly. "Er, wait. Serving tea is kind of my thing." he mutters.

"Amazing! ~ So, you really are a prince!" Finny gasps, starstruck.

"A...prince," Mey-Rin echoes dreamily.

"Hmm, this is like, my first time seeing a real prince," Bard mutters.

Soma smirks. "I shall allow you to come closer."

The room explodes with questions until Ciel and I both reach a breaking point.

"Get out!" we shout in unison.

0o0o0o0o

Naturally, I'm kicked out of my own bedroom and into a guest room. I'm sick, and yet somehow he gets my bed? Unbelievable.

I bury myself under stiff linen blankets, glaring at the wall. They smell sterile. I miss the natural scent of my own sheets.

I sneeze hard. "Ugh. Bless me," I mumble to myself.

There's a knock, and I jolt slightly, head still foggy. Sebastian enters without waiting for an answer, pushing a tea cart.

I blink as I sit up slowly. Did he actually…?

"I believe you requested your favorite," Sebastian says, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

I smile, nodding once. "Indeed. I appreciate you making me some."

He parks the cart beside the bed and pours a cup. "If the young master's sister requests such a thing from me, I must abide."

"Now you make it sound like I'm forcing you." I accept the cup carefully, fingers grateful for the warmth. Green tea with a couple drops of honey—perfect.

"It is an order either way."

I frown, lifting it to my lips and taking a cautious sip. "Sebastian, I don't want to force anything on you."

"It is in my nature to do so as the young master wishes me to."

I sigh. This conversation's going nowhere. I take another sip and shift the topic.

"Thank you again for earlier. I think you saved my life twice—or at least stopped me from getting hurt."

He stands motionless by the cart, smiling faintly. "Do not think much about it. I was simply doing my job."

"If you weren't…would you let me die?" I ask, genuinely curious.

His eyes glow faintly, then dim. "I cannot say."

I sweatdrop. "Good to know."

Silence stretches between us. A little awkward, honestly. I drink slowly—until a sharp cough jerks through me. I gasp, nearly spilling the tea as some splashes onto my hand.

Sebastian's there in an instant, napkin in hand. "My lady!"

He takes the cup from me and dabs my hands gently, his other hand resting on my back. My eyes widen at the contact—heat prickling through my spine. I freeze. He stiffens too, glancing at me sharply like he's trying to decipher something.

I push his hand away, unsettled. The touch…felt good. Relaxing, somehow.

"W-What is that?" I whisper.

"I'm afraid I do not understand what you mean."

I rub the spot he touched, my back still burning faintly. "What is this feeling?"

"My lady, I think you fear me to some extent."

I stare at him, stunned. "…What?"

"You tense under my touch and much of the time under my true eyes. It is a natural response to such a thing though, as I am a being of darkness."

"Oh…" I mumble. Fear? That doesn't seem right. That's the last thing I feel around him. If anything…I'm comforted.

Maybe this is just how humans react. Maybe I'm lonely, and the feeling of his presence registers as safety by accident. Everything's so confusing when it comes to him. What's real and what isn't?

My back still tingles. "You're so confusing. A damn mystery," I grumble, rubbing my temple. My head aches even more.

He smirks and leans closer to eye level. "A demon should hide things, no?"

"I'll solve you."

His smile widens. "In exchange, I shall do the same to you."

…Welp. That escalated.

"Oh yeah, Sebastian."

"Hm?"

"Tell my brother he gets no sweets or desserts of any kind for two whole weeks. Message from me. And if he disobeys, tell him I'm running away and never coming back. I won't forget my vows."

Sebastian sighs, sweatdropping. "Yes."

Chapter Text

Sniffling, I tug the comforters closer, burying myself deeper. A quick glance at the window confirms the moon has risen even higher. Letting out a soft groan, I reach for another tissue and blow my nose miserably.

Seriously—why did I have to get sick? Stupid Sebastian and his smug teasing. My immune system sucks ass.

I cough weakly and sigh afterward. My eyes sting with unshed tears, and my head feels stuffed with cotton. It's so late, I don't even want to know the time. Where's some NyQuil when you need it?

A sudden knock at the door makes me freeze. Please don't let it be Soma. I had to move all my stuff into this room temporarily—well, more like Sebastian did, while I was knocked out cold.

I didn't even hear him come in.

"My lady, pardon the intrusion but may I come in?" Sebastian's voice slices through the silence like a knife.

Do I let the bastard in? I don't want to be rude. "Yeah, you can."

The door swings open. He walks in pushing a tea cart. I squint at the setup—not tea, exactly, but warm milk. Huh. Not what I expected.

Depends on which one he made, but it might help...or just knock me out faster.

He stops by my side and pours the drink with mechanical grace. Still curled up in bed, I watch him curiously.

"Any specific reason as to why you made me warm milk so late at night?"

"The young master requested I watch over you tonight."

I blink at that, then smile faintly. My brother...always silently trying to care in his own way. I watch as Sebastian adds two drops of honey into the cup.

"I suppose I'll have to thank him in the morning, then."

When he offers the cup, I sit up slowly and lean against the bedframe. I blow gently on the steam, letting the warmth seep into my face. He begins moving again—until I catch sight of what's in his hand.

My eyes widen. A spoonful of medicine. Oh, hell no.

"H-Hold up—" I start, scooting back in alarm.

"This medicine should help that weak body of yours."

I go pale and quickly set the milk on the nightstand. "No! I refuse to consume that stuff!"

"You must get better." Sebastian states firmly.

I shake my head adamantly and slap both hands over my mouth. "No!"

He sighs, exasperated, and kneels on the bed, spoon still in hand. "Stop being a child. You are worse than the young master."

I clamp my hands tighter and shake my head like a stubborn toddler. "I will not have that type of medicine in my body," I mumble through my fingers, sounding absolutely ridiculous.

He doesn't care. He grabs my wrists and pulls my hands down with ease. "Please stop being a nuisance and open your mouth for me."

"It tastes like poison though! It's bad for me clinically!" I argue, staring down the spoon like it's a loaded gun.

"My lady, it will not kill you and I can assure it is not poison."

"I don't trust medicine from here!" I blurt, jerking out of his grasp. My body lurches into a coughing fit, the soreness in my chest sharp.

"Why would you not trust the substance? It is made to cure you, humans, correct?" he asks quizzically.

I eye the spoon like it might bite. "Yes! But not this kind!"

"But every other human uses this medicine when they are sick."

"Not me! I'm different!" I shout and whip my head away.

He lets out a much louder sigh this time. "Fine. Be stubborn." He dumps the medicine back in its container with sharp, annoyed movements. "The young master will be most displeased."

"Sorry, not sorry. I'm not dying, I can handle the cold you gave me."

He eyes me with flat disdain and wheels the cart back toward the door.

"Perhaps, you should not play around like a child and take your so-called 'mature self' more into account to prevent such misfortunes."

I gawk at his retreating back. What the—was he mad at me just now? That was weird. Like...uncharacteristically real.

Guilt tugs at my chest, sour and sudden. I didn't mean to be such a bitch. But I really don't trust Victorian medicine. Reaching for the milk, I take a sip and let the heat calm my throat. The night sucks. And not being in my own bed? It also sucks.

I finish the milk quickly and collapse back into the blankets with a defeated sigh.

0o0o0o0o

A gentle knock stirs me from sleep. My eyelids flutter open, but I immediately flop back down when the weight in my skull drags me under again. Ugh, no—nope, I feel worse than yesterday. My joints ache. Fuck me. When did I even fall asleep?

"Com-e in," I croak, my voice gravelly. Water. I need water.

The bedroom is still dim. The oil lamp beside my bed is still lit—I must've forgotten to turn it off. But the morning sun creeps through the cracked door.

"Lady Rina?"

I squint, not recognizing the voice at first. The figure steps farther in, and as they draw closer, I finally place him.

Agni. Soma's butler. I stare at him, blinking blearily. He smiles and moves toward the curtains. I instinctively duck beneath the covers.

He chuckles, easing them open just a little. Not like Sebastian, who rips them wide open like he's trying to blind me. "It is me, Lady Rina. I have come to check on you as you said you did not feel well yesterday."

His warmth is like stepping into the sun after a cold wind. A small smile tugs at my lips, moved by his quiet kindness. "Ah, I appreciate it, Agni."

"How did you sleep?"

I rub my eyes, yawning. "Not very well. I still feel bad."

He touches my forehead, brows knitting the moment his skin meets mine. "My! Your head is very warm! It's a fever."

I sigh and collapse deeper into the sheets. "Great. It probably got worse overnight."

"Mister Sebastian is almost finished preparing breakfast. He wanted to know if he needed to make less in case you did not arrive."

I scowl. That bastard. Is he still mad about last night?

Dragging a hand through my hair, I mutter, "I'm not sure if I want whatever he's making."

I cough, then sniff, feeling like roadkill. Agni frowns with genuine concern. It's...refreshing. My brother buries his emotions behind walls. Sebastian is an ice sculpture. The other servants? Drama queens.

"I could grab you some medicine. We need to get that fever down before it gets worse."

I wave my hand weakly. "No, no thank you. I don't really like our medicine here."

He pauses as if thinking. "Would you prefer an Indian recipe for a cold? It is a great dish that treats the common cold back home."

My whole body brightens. "Really?!" I squeak, then clear my throat in embarrassment. "What's it called?"

"Masala chai as a remedy for the cold and khichdi is a common dish to help sooth you in these times."

God, this sounds perfect. I don't love chai...but if it helps, I'll suck it up.

"I shall try it! It sounds amazing, Agni! Thank you so much."

He smiles with me, then switches gears and gently presses me back into bed. "You must rest! You have a fever, this is serious!"

I pout. "I'll be okay. I need to greet my brother anyway."

He sighs but helps me sit up when another cough wracks my body. He steadies me by the shoulders. Ugh, yep—definitely still very sick. He grabs my robe, and I mumble thanks. Slippers on, robe tied, we head for the dining room.

Man, is it just me or is it hot in here?

"Agni, I really appreciate you coming to check on me."

"It is nothing, Lady Rina."

"But surely you must be attending Soma, right?"

"My prince is bathing at the moment, he does not need help."

"Ah, I see."

Silence drapes over us—calm, not awkward. When we reach the dining room, Agni opens the door.

Inside, Ciel is already seated, newspaper in hand. No Sebastian—must still be finishing breakfast. "I shall go assist Mr. Sebastian then, I will be out with your dish when breakfast is served."

He bows and exits.

I plop into the seat next to Ciel with a groan. My head feels like it's packed with steam and static. The newspaper crinkles. I turn—and of course, he's already watching me. "You look terrible, you could've at least brushed your hair for our guest."

I scowl, beyond caring. "Did Sebastian follow through with my punishment?"

"No. Your plan failed as I ordered him directly to bring me some."

My hand slams the table before I can think. Ciel jumps slightly, surprised.

"Brother. I am not putting up with your attitude. You need to learn. When I am all better, I will deliver a very harsh punishment for disobeying me, do you hear?"

He glares, stubborn as always—but there's hesitation now. He huffs and hides behind his paper. Little brat. If my mother were here, she'd send him to his room without breakfast or lunch. I stare daggers into the white tablecloth, hoping it spontaneously combusts.

The doors swing open again—and in walks Lau.

Oh, god. Cue my incoming migraine. I grab my head in preemptive pain.

"Oh, look, everyone's awake." Lau observes.

"I'm not just lucky, am I?" I deadpan.

He drops into the seat across from me. "You're beautiful as always, Lady Rina."

I scowl and rake a hand through my messy hair. "You have broken eyes. Maybe you shouldn't keep them closed all the time."

"Feisty as ever, it makes me want to keep you."

"I'm not a pet. Touch me and your hands are gone."

"Noted." Lau smirks.

I pour a glass of water from the pitcher on the table and drink it greedily. My throat aches. My head pounds. This cold can rot.

Soma enters the dining room next, all sunshine and sugar.

"Good morning, everyone!" he cheers, far too loud for the hour.

Ciel and I wince in sync. I don't even bother replying—I'm too exhausted to fake politeness.

"Morning..." Ciel mumbles, lowering the paper in his hands.

"Good morning," Lau greets smoothly, his gaze following Soma as he parks himself at the far end of the table.

The doors open once more.

Sebastian enters, pushing a trolley stacked with breakfast. He begins laying out the dishes with practiced ease, stacking pastries and setting plates with almost mechanical grace. Agni trails in behind him with a second trolley, and—wait, Sebastian's letting him help? That's new.

Normally, he refuses any kind of assistance unless it comes from the manor staff. Guess Agni earned a pass.

Sebastian moves down the table, setting meals in front of everyone—except me. My plate is pointedly empty. I shoot him a heated glare. He did that on purpose. The bastard.

He doesn't even spare me a glance. I cough into my elbow with a huff, but before I can stew further, a hand lands gently on my shoulder. I follow it upward—Agni. He's holding the same dish he mentioned earlier. He smiles warmly as he places it in front of me. The second I see the rice, recognition blooms.

"I got them done just in time," he says softly, setting a teacup beside the bowl.

My grin is probably stupid, but I can't help it. I pick up my fork. "I can't really smell it, but I hope I can taste it. It looks amazing."

"Oh! Is that khichdi I smell?!" Soma exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Yes, it is, my prince! Lady Rina is feeling very unwell. I thought a good Indian dish such as khichdi would help her feel better," Agni explains proudly.

"Good suggestion, Agni! You're the best butler!" Soma beams.

Their dynamic makes me smile—it's warm, genuine. I scoop a bite into my mouth and—wow. My whole tongue lights up with gentle spices, just enough to stir my senses without overwhelming my sickly taste buds.

"This is so good, Agni!" I gush, taking another eager bite.

The taste tugs at old memories—homemade chicken noodle soup on sick days, my mom's careful hands. There's comfort in this food. My body relaxes slightly for the first time all morning.

Then I feel it—eyes on me. I glance up and find Sebastian glaring, but not at me. His gaze is locked on Agni's hand, still resting lightly on my shoulder.

...Does he have a problem with Agni?

"I am happy you enjoy it," Agni says before removing his hand and stepping back to stand near Soma. I continue eating, already feeling a little better. My fever's still lingering, but the warmth in my chest isn't from illness anymore.

Everyone returns to eating after that. A lull settles over the room until Ciel breaks it.

"How long do you two intend to stay at my house?" he asks, sounding more irritated than curious.

"We'll leave once our work is done," Soma replies, mouth full of bread.

"And that is...?" Ciel presses, twitching with annoyance.

"Aren't you two looking for someone?" Lau asks casually.

Oh, right. They were searching for someone. I vaguely recall Soma showing us a picture before.

"So what if they are? Why do they have to stay here too?" Ciel grumbles.

I snicker into my tea. "Maybe I should make you spend the day with Elizabeth as punishment?"

Ciel turns pale in a flash. "Anything but that!" he begs.

I smirk into my cup and sip again, triumphant.

"Oh yeah! We're looking for a lady," Soma adds, spraying crumbs everywhere. I flinch. Manners, man. I might eat like that sometimes, but not like that. "This lady!" he exclaims, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper.

The second I see it, I regret not finishing my bite. I choke, coughing violently, because whatever that is—it is not art.

Soma passes the drawing to Agni, who hands it off to Ciel. Lau and I leave our seats to get a closer look, even Sebastian leans over Ciel's shoulder.

We all stare. Sweatdrops all around. Yeah, this is...rough.

"Her name is Mina. She was a maidservant at my palace," Soma explains.

"This is..." Ciel starts.

"I drew that. I drew it so good that once you see her in person, you'll recognize her for sure. Isn't she a beauty?" Soma says with misplaced pride.

"Sebastian, can you find her with this?" Ciel asks, somehow still serious.

I snort beside him, trying to hide my laughter. "Yeah, Sebastian, can you? You have such keen eyes, ya' know?"

Sebastian shoots me a side-eye. "Even for me that's...I'll try my best then."

I retake my seat, sniffling. Lau grabs the drawing and smirks. "Meh. She bests you in beauty, Lady Rina."

I grab a piece of bread and lob it at his head. He dodges without missing a beat.

"Of course! She is the most beautiful lady in my palace!" Soma adds, clapping his hands in satisfaction. "Lady Rina is quite a gem too though, for an English woman."

I flush immediately. Between the fever and the flattery, my face is burning. That compliment came out of nowhere.

"Of course, she is," Ciel says flatly. "She's my sister, after all."

...Wait, what? Ciel just called me beautiful?

I stare at him. Suspicious. It's a cute attempt to hide affection behind a monotone response, but what the hell is he up to? Trying to get back on my good side? Pfft. It'll take more than flattery. Still...I will be basking in that compliment for the next decade.

Clearing my throat, I shift the topic. "So why is this woman in England? If she's originally from India?"

Before I can get an answer, the sudden sound of foreign prayers floods the room. I turn, baffled, to see Agni and Soma kneeling before a statue of Kali—where did that come from?! One second we were eating, the next—spiritual ritual?

"What the actual fuck," I mutter under my breath.

"Listen!" Ciel snaps, clearly at the end of his patience.

We gather around the pair, watching in confusion as they chant before the unfamiliar goddess. I blink up at the statue, unsure whether to be impressed or disturbed.

"What the hell is this all of a sudden?!" Ciel demands.

I cough lightly. "I'm more interested in its random appearance."

"It seems they are praying, but that's such an awful, surreal figure of God," Lau observes.

"A figure of God..." Sebastian repeats, eyes narrowing, hand on his chin.

I step closer, fascinated. "It's been a while since I've seen Kali."

"You know of her, Lady Rina?" Agni asks, surprised.

I nod, studying the figure. "Learned about her from one of my foreign classmates."

"Classmates?" Ciel frowns. "You never went to school."

I slap my hand over my mouth. Shit. "What? Did I say classmates? I meant, um, workmates in the manor. You don't remember them because you were a baby and they quit before you officially met them." I spit the lie out quickly, hoping it sticks.

Ciel squints. Sebastian's stare is sharper than a knife. He doesn't buy it at all. I start sweating under their scrutiny.

"It is nice to know the English society is becoming aware of the Hindu religion." Agni says, saving my ass with a peaceful smile.

Sebastian turns back to the statue. "It's just a statue of a woman who holds men's heads, wears men's heads as a necklace, and happily dances on a man's stomach. That's how I see it..."

"This is a statue of Kali from the Hindu religion we have faith in, as Lady Rina mentioned before."

"So it's a god from India?" Ciel asks.

"Yep! One of the many, anyway." I say with a grin. I'm not religious, but learning about others' beliefs is honestly fascinating.

"Our Kali Goddess is the wife of our God Shiva and is also the Goddess of power," Agni begins. His tone deepens with reverence. "A long time ago, a demon recklessly challenged the Goddess to fight him..."

The story flows, rich with meaning. Agni speaks with such conviction, I find myself hanging onto every word—even though I already know this tale. Hearing it aloud gives it weight.

Sebastian, of course, breaks the tension. "Ah! So that's why he is being trampled on. Of course, it's just a matrimonial quarrel."

I snort. "I bet you'd like that."

He throws me a look, clearly taken off guard. "...Are you requesting this, my lady?" he asks, the corner of his mouth curling.

The heat rushes up my face. "D-Don't be stupid!"

Ciel sighs, ignoring our bickering. "Maybe he should have done it before so many people were killed."

Agni continues, finishing the myth with calm reverence. "After she had trampled on her husband with her dirty legs, Kali the Goddess returned to us, and this world returned to its peaceful state..."

I smile. It really is a badass story. Way more interesting than any Bible verse I remember. "She is holding the head of the demon she defeated as proof," Sebastian observes, deep in thought.

"So you say..." Ciel muses.

"If such a strong person exists, I should be careful when I go to India," Sebastian adds.

Agni looks confused by the comment. I sweatdrop. Gods, goddesses, demons...How many are there really? My brain aches just thinking about it.

Maybe I'll ask Agni later. When Sebastian's not watching me like a hawk.

"So, I have finished praying now," Soma announces, rising to his feet and brushing stray dirt from his sleeves. With an easy grin, he strolls over to us and throws an arm around my brother's neck, locking him in a cheerful headlock.

"Let's go out, midget! You'll be my guide!"

I stifle a laugh as Ciel struggles beneath Soma's grip. "Why me?!" he snaps, startled.

Soma merely keeps walking, hauling him along. "Besides, my name is not 'midget,' my name is Ciel."

"Then Ciel, I order you to lead the way," Soma declares, all royal authority and sparkle-eyed mischief.

Arms crossed, I watch them with a half-smile tugging at my lips. Ciel rarely gets flustered unless it's me pushing his buttons. It's strangely nice to see someone else pulling that off. For all his flamboyance, Soma isn't a terrible influence. He's unpredictable, loud, and irritating, yes—but he has a warmth that challenges Ciel in ways I think he needs.

Before Soma can drag my brother off entirely, Sebastian steps in with a polite gesture.

"I'm deeply sorry, but it has already been scheduled for the young master to study and work today."

I frown beside him. "Couldn't he spend a little time with Soma?"

Sebastian doesn't miss a beat, offering me that irritatingly perfect smile. "My lady, I believe you should be resting instead of interfering with the young master's affairs."

My patience snaps like a dry twig. What the hell is his problem? The air suddenly feels suffocating, my skin prickling hot with anger.

I flash Sebastian a sugary, venomous smile. "Maybe you should be doing better at your job instead of standing there criticizing me."

His brow twitches ever so slightly, but Ciel swiftly cuts between us.

"You two, stop!" he barks, then turns to Soma. "As you can see, I'm busy. If you want to look for that person, then do it yourself."

Sebastian follows him out without another word.

I press the back of my hand to my forehead, only now noticing the sweat beginning to bead. Maybe he's right. I should rest. With a tight nod to Soma and Agni, I excuse myself and make for my room.

I had an appointment with my bed—and I wasn't missing it.

0o0o0o0o

I don't know how long I've been out, but judging by the light filtering in through the curtains, it's sometime in the afternoon. Thankfully, I feel less like death. Still sniffly, though.

Shuffling out of bed, I grab a fluffy white sweater and some oversized pants. No way am I putting on anything fancy today—if the staff complains, they're welcome to catch this cold themselves. Robe on, slippers on, I decide a glass of water wouldn't hurt and make my way to the kitchen.

I've just filled the glass when voices catch my ear from down the hall. Curious, I follow the sound until I come upon a cracked door. Peeking in, I see Ciel clutching a fencing foil, standing in the middle of a small crowd—Sebastian, Lau, Soma, and Agni all watching.

I push the door open the rest of the way and step inside quietly. Let's see if my brother's actually improved at this sport. Judging by the furious ticks on his face, I doubt it.

"I can't concentrate!" Ciel snarls.

Soma, now sprawled on the floor like an overgrown cat, tilts his head lazily. "And just what the hell are you doing?"

Ciel's response is pure rage. "Arrrrgh! SHUT UP!"

I raise an eyebrow and stroll to Soma's side. "Oh, calm down."

Ciel points an accusing finger at me next. "You! Be quiet, I don't need your lectures!"

I blink at him, unimpressed. "Who shoved a stick up your ass today? Geez, this only earns you more points on why to discipline you."

He bristles, of course. I swear, the brat's practically allergic to correction. Puberty's a hell of a drug.

Before he can snap again, Soma pouts theatrically. "No need to get mad."

Ciel growls and grabs the second foil from Sebastian. "Okay, I get it...If you want my attention that much, then be my opponent."

He tosses it to Soma, who catches it with surprising ease. Seriously? My brother's letting a complete novice duel him? Genius move, Fenian.

"I have only studied martial arts like kalarippayattu and silambam, though..." Soma admits, swinging the foil around like a stick.

"Meh, have it your way," Agni says with a shrug.

Lau is in his own world, idly playing with another foil.

"So, if I beat you, you will play with me?" Soma asks, eyes gleaming.

"Only if you win," Ciel replies with an arrogant smirk, stepping into stance. "If you lose, then you must stay quiet and keep out of my way."

The two face off, foils raised. Sebastian positions himself between them like an official referee.

"Five bouts in three minutes. The one with the highest score wins," he announces. "So...let's start!"

I nibble at my bottom lip, nervous for Ciel. He's cocky—too cocky—and I know how karma works.

Vincent would probably be proud of how ruthlessly focused his son is.

Soma charges forward, foil whipping behind him. "Take this!"

Predictable. My brother doesn't even flinch, reading Soma's movements like a book. When Soma's foil bends against his leg, he just smirks.

"That is not a valid point in fencing!" Ciel declares, eyes gleaming.

Yep. He's gloating. Great.

Ciel strikes back with precision, that cruel smile never leaving his face. Soma yelps, barely dodging.

"What the hell are valid points?! You coward! I don't even know the rules!" Soma cries out, flailing.

Ciel's form is impeccable—textbook perfect—but the whole thing is starting to grate on me. It's not a fair match. It's not even a match. It's Ciel showing off.

"It's your fault that you don't know the rules. A match is a match," Ciel says, voice clipped and smug.

Soma starts swinging wildly. Foils aren't meant for that kind of force; they're for thrusting, not hacking.

"Huh! This sword is hard to use when swinging left to right!" he shouts.

I sigh, resisting the urge to groan. This is embarrassing.

"Thrusting forward won't do you any good, Soma. Don't swing side to side." I call out, watching his form with irritation.

Ciel turns to shoot me a glare. I glare right back.

He snaps his attention back to Soma—and sees the opening.

"Your torso is wide open!" he shouts and lunges.

Soma doesn't have time to dodge.

But someone else does.

Agni launches across the room and throws himself between them. "Prince! This is dangerous!"

I see it coming before anyone else. He's going to use that nerve strike. Sure enough, Ciel crumples to the floor with a cry, clutching his limp arm.

The foil hits the ground with a metallic clatter. I don't move. He'll be fine. Eventually.

Agni panics. "Huh?! Ci–Ciel, sir! My deepest apologies! My body moved on its own when I thought the prince was going to lose! Are you okay?"

Sebastian kneels beside my brother as Ciel struggles to lift his arm.

Serves him right. Honestly.

Soma, laughing, claps Agni on the shoulder. "Agni! You have protected your master like me really well. I praise you! Agni is my butler, he's all mine! In other words, I won!"

I groan under my breath. How did this turn into a circus so fast?

"You shall now play with me!" Soma beams.

"Oya! Oya!" Lau sings out, tossing the fallen foil toward Sebastian. "Here, you should take reprisal for your master."

Sebastian catches it without fanfare, still crouched.

"What are you doing?" Soma asks.

"Ciel's butler?" Agni adds with a nervous blink.

Sebastian sighs, rising slowly.

"Indeed, it's because you were being mean to a novice who didn't know the rules. However, when the master is injured like this..." His voice drops to a low, deadly calm as he flicks the foil to one side. It's smooth, lethal, and—damn it—hot.

"As a butler of the Phantomhive family, I can't ignore it."

I cross my arms with a smirk. "Sebastian, if you lose, I'll personally see to it you are punished."

He meets my gaze with a thin, knowing smile. "Yes, my lady."

Then his face darkens into that cold mask of efficiency I've come to recognize. "Moreover, we are behind the planned schedule by ten minutes."

I slap a hand over my face.

Of course he's still obsessed with the damn schedule.

"That's your real motive, isn't it?" Ciel asks with a tick mark as he pushes up from the ground.

"Interesting. This is good; I shall allow the duel," Soma declares with a sly smile, handing Agni the foil he'd been holding.

Ciel steps over to my side. Agni draws his arm back, foil angled low in an unfamiliar stance, his expression like still water. It's strange—too smooth to be Western. Must be something he picked up in India.

"Agni! In the name of Kali, the Goddess, you can't lose!" Soma cheers, fire in his voice.

Sebastian mirrors the motion, adopting a poised stance. Completely still. Calm, yet unreadable.

"Sebastian. This is an order! Silence that brat!" Ciel commands.

"Jo Ajna. (English: As you command.)" Agni vows.

Sebastian smirks, clearly amused. "Yes, my lord." His eyes sharpen, focused. The two wait—statues holding blades—each daring the other to move first. "Now then, please kindly go easy on me."

"Here I go!" Agni charges forward with a shout, lunging with the foil aimed straight at Sebastian.

Sebastian dodges with a sharp grunt, sidestepping and lowering his stance. In one fluid motion, he thrusts his own foil toward Agni's midsection.

The foils stop—Sebastian's tip hovers just inches from Agni's torso, Agni's blade the same distance from Sebastian's face. The stillness only lasts a moment before Agni shifts. He drops lower, palm pressing against the tile, ducking beneath Sebastian's strike. There's fierce focus behind his movements.

But Sebastian spins—effortless. He's suddenly behind Agni, and before I can even register how he did it, his foil presses lightly against Agni's bindi.

Holy shit—they're fast. Too fast. I've never seen anyone move like Sebastian, let alone a human. It's like a dance, violent and beautiful. I glance down at Ciel and catch the intensity in his eye—locked, unblinking, focused on Sebastian.

"One week," I say crisply, clearing my throat.

Ciel glances up, confused. "What?"

My eyes stay on the duel. "One week of punishment," I clarify.

"What?!" he snaps, glaring.

"You won't take me seriously. So, the more you act up, the more I will extend the period of your suffering."

I meet his glare, refusing to flinch. His expression twists into a scowl. He grabs a fistful of my dress.

"I'm not going to listen to you."

I stare at him, startled. When did this rebellion start? Why didn't I notice it earlier? This brat...

Before I can retort, a sharp snap slices through the moment. We both turn, stunned. The butlers—still locked in place—freeze mid-action, eyes wide.

The foils. Snapped. Steel fragments hang in the air like feathers.

Sebastian catches his broken blade with a sigh. "Oh my, the sword's broken."

Sebastian...lost? No—he didn't. It was a tie. My brain struggles to catch up. A draw? What the hell even is Agni?

"This means that it'll be impossible to compete anymore. So, this match ends as a draw?" Agni asks, examining the fractured metal in his hand.

"Ciel's butler is also pretty strong," Soma adds cheerfully as Agni returns to his side. "Agni is the strongest fighter in my city! This is the first time somebody has drawn with him!"

I gape at the two of them. There's no way Sebastian—a demon—has a human rival. Is that even possible?

"I'm impressed! Ciel's butler, seeing that you are so skilled, we shall stop for the day," Soma decides.

"It is my honor," Sebastian replies with a hand on his chest and a graceful bow.

"Mr. Sebastian, thank you for exchanging blows with me," Agni says, pressing his palms together in gratitude.

"I feel the same way. Mr. Agni has a really fast learning pace," Sebastian returns. I can't tell if he means it. His tone is unreadable. "I can't say that the results will be the same if you are not a novice."

"No, that's not the case!" Agni protests, clearly flustered.

I step forward with a smile. "Good job, you two. I don't think I've ever seen a duel that interesting."

Agni blushes, rubbing the back of his cheek as he bows deeply. "Lady Rina! I do not deserve such praise from you."

I blink. That was unexpected.

Sebastian's hand suddenly clamps onto my elbow, his smile fake and sharp as glass. "If you'll excuse me, I must speak with my master."

Agni bows again, then drifts back to Soma and Lau, who have resumed chatting. Sebastian keeps his grip firm, which starts to irritate me.

"You can let go anytime," I mutter.

His eyes narrow coldly. "Please refrain from interacting with the guests. You are not quite the society standard to a lady."

I gape. Excuse me?

I try to shake him off, but his grip doesn't budge. Damn demon strength. "What is your problem?!" I hiss in a whisper, careful not to draw attention. Ciel's just behind him, watching quietly.

He doesn't respond. Just that blank stare.

I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. "Seriously? Come on, Sebastian. If I did something to upset you, please let me know so I can fix it."

Still nothing. Just silence as he hauls me over to Ciel. The second I'm in place beside my brother, he lets go like I've burned him.

The rejection stings more than I want to admit.

I glance back at Soma and Agni. Why the cold shoulder? Why can't I talk to them? Unless...No. Wait. Could this confirm what I'd been thinking? Agni's strength—could he be the one who hung those bodies?

Ciel's voice breaks through my thoughts. "That guy...what exactly is he?" Suspicion clings to his tone. "Don't tell me he is that 'kind' again..."

I shiver. Grell flashes through my mind. Please, no. Never again.

"No, he is human," Sebastian says, flashing a sidelong smile.

"Oh really..." Ciel exhales. Relief, maybe.

Soma bounds up from behind and wraps him in a hug.

"Hey, Ciel! We should compete again too!" he shouts, gleeful.

"What?!"

"I won't lose this time!"

"How many times do I have to say that I am busy?!"

I laugh under my breath. Ciel's suffering is honestly hilarious. I glance back at Sebastian—but my smile fades when I catch his eyes again.

"Has there ever been a human as strong as a demon?" I ask, voice low.

"He is just an ordinary human. However, he possesses abilities that we do not have." Sebastian replies, something cryptic hiding in his gaze.

"Well, whatever he is, I'm impressed. Even if he becomes our enemy..." I mutter, letting the thought hang. Those bodies. No way a normal man could've managed that without serious help.

Sebastian's lips tug into a smirk, the glint in his eye brighter now. "My lady, you still surprise me despite how I am feeling at the moment."

"And that would be?"

His smirk widens. "Can't say."

0o0o0o0o

After lying in bed for a while, I end up drifting into another nap. Honestly, dozing and guzzling water seem to be doing wonders for me. I just wish this damn stuffy nose would finally clear—it's like trying to breathe through a wet rag. The coughing subsided a good bit, at least.

Maybe I really do owe Agni another thank-you; that meal worked like a miracle. The fever's mostly gone, but I still feel like I've been run over by a carriage. Manageable, though.

Stretching with a tired yawn, I slide out of bed again. The evening light spills lazily into the hallway as I pad toward the kitchen. I'm not hungry enough for a full dinner, but I could definitely nibble on something.

I descend the stairs, rubbing sleep from my eyes. A small yawn slips out as I near the kitchen door, where a warm, subtle scent of food lingers in the air. I reach for the handle and push it open—

—and stop dead in my tracks.

Mey-Rin, Bard, and Finny…are cooking.

My eyes must be lying.

"I'm dreaming..." I mumble under my breath, unable to tear my gaze away. Finny glances up with a bright, familiar grin.

"Lady Rina!" he chirps, positively glowing.

I hadn't even noticed Agni standing at the counter until he turns to greet me. "Ah! Lady Rina! It is nice to see you again."

"What...is going on here?" I manage, one eyebrow twitching in disbelief.

The kitchen is intact. Nothing's broken. Nothing's on fire. Everyone's…cooperating?

"We're helping make dinner, yes!" Mey-Rin adds enthusiastically.

Agni gives a calm chuckle as he crosses the room to me. "I asked for some help and the servants said they could assist. More hands the better, right?"

I stare in stunned silence, processing this domestic miracle. Then, it hits me.

"Agni...you're seriously the most amazing person I've ever encountered!" I gush, eyes scanning the scene again.

His cheeks tint pink—clearly, praise isn't something he's used to.

"Lady Rina, I don't deserve—"

I press a finger to his lips, grinning. "Say no more! I'm genuinely impressed. You got the chaos trio to function like actual staff! That's a feat worthy of legend." I spin toward the others, stars practically sparkling around me. "Good job, guys! I believe in you!" I give them a thumbs up for emphasis.

"Mr. Agni, how are things going? Can you cope?" Sebastian's voice floats in from behind me.

I turn as he enters the kitchen, just in time to see Agni respond with a confident smile. "Yep! There shouldn't be a problem." He returns to his station and begins rolling dough with practiced ease.

"Mr. Sebastian! Look! The potatoes that are going to be in the pie are smashed by me!" Finnian announces proudly, beaming.

I quickly glance at Sebastian to catch his reaction. His eyes go wide—truly, the picture of disbelief. I bite my lip to stifle a laugh.

"As for me, I was the one who chopped up the onions. I am now preparing the side vegetables," Bard announces with a rare air of discipline.

"I have already prepared the cutlery," Mey-Rin says shyly, blushing just a little.

"Thanks to everybody, we will be having a really delicious meal tonight," Agni says with open joy.

Sebastian walks over to Agni, slowly scanning the scene like he's entered a dream—or a nightmare.

"Mr. Sebastian?" Agni prompts after a beat of awkward silence.

Sebastian sweat-drops, exasperated. "It's nothing, just that it's amazing how you're actually able to let them be of some help!"

"Everyone is a good person who works really hard," Agni replies.

"Yes...they are not bad by nature...but..."

Agni folds his hands together, expression serene. "Everybody is born with different abilities and purposes in life. With our calling and life being guided by God. Us humans just need to abide by God's will, naturally and slowly. In order to complete what we have to do."

I watch him, a quiet awe softening my thoughts. It's refreshing—being near someone who radiates nothing but kindness, who doesn't make you feel like an emotional hostage just by existing.

"I don't know how to put it across, Mr. Agni, you're a really capable person," Sebastian admits.

"That's not true!" Agni replies, modest as ever.

I let out a small laugh, though it comes out more like a wheeze. "But you're like a miracle worker! You're so awesome!"

He blinks at me, sheepish. Then he shakes his head, adamant. "Before I met the prince, I was an idiot that can be said to be hopeless. What I owe him can never be repaid in this lifetime..."

He speaks of his past—of status, sin, and spiritual emptiness. Of being born into a caste said to be closest to God, and yet living a life far removed from faith or purpose. Of the weight of his sins, the hollow path he walked, until the day everything changed.

My heart aches as I listen. It's hard to picture that version of him—the man standing here now is the very definition of composed grace.

"...Then God appeared, he allowed me to realize that God does exist inside of me. That day, I definitely saw a God emitting holy light inside the prince's body."

That...That's such a powerful thing to believe in. I still don't get how that prince inspired such reverence, but...I gather Agni's hands in mine, moved.

"That is such a moving story. I am glad you were saved, Agni." I give him a warm, sincere smile.

"Rina."

The flat, unfamiliar sound of my name spoken aloud by him sends sparks skittering down my neck to my lower back.

I stiffen. He's never called me that before. Ever.

"Could you please grab me a towel? The pot is boiling."

I walk over in a daze, heart hammering so hard it's practically echoing in my ears. I pick up a towel from the counter, trying to hide behind my hair. I hand it to him, and he snatches it from me—more rude than usual.

Still flustered, I watch him wipe up the water calmly. Agni returns to his side, speaking softly.

"I served the prince ever since that day. The prince is my kind and God. Even if it costs my life, I will do anything to protect the prince who gave me a new lease on life. I hope to help fulfill his wishes in any way I can!"

Sebastian stirs the pot with a ladle, wearing a bored expression. "Eh, but the Gods, in reality, are all useless in a sense..."

"Eh? Did you say something?"

"Nope, I didn't say anything!" Sebastian replies quickly.

As Agni heads back to his task, I sidle closer to Sebastian and cross my arms with a suspicious squint.

"You want to explain why you decided to call me by my name?"

"You would not listen if I called you by your title."

I flush slightly and scoff, blowing a raspberry. "Give a girl a little warning before you drop her name like that."

He smirks sideways. "Any particular reason why?"

"Hmph. Nope."

He chuckles low, under his breath. "Liar."

I blush harder, hugging my arms around myself to stay grounded. "Fine, I'll admit my name sounded kinda...nice coming from you. Happy now?" I mutter.

Suddenly, his hand cups my jaw, and before I can blink, a spoon is shoved into my mouth.

I gasp softly—caught off guard—but the moment the warm broth hits my tongue, all complaints vanish. Chicken noodle soup. But not canned. Not even homemade in the usual sense. This is something else. It's rich, comforting, and warm to the soul.

I swallow as he pulls the spoon back, still wearing that insufferable smirk.

"You shouldn't confess to a demon." he whispers, just for me to hear.

He sets a bowl beside me, and I glare at him—half embarrassed, half impressed.

"And you shouldn't force-feed people either." I retort, snatching the spoon from his hand.

"I don't hear you complaining."

"Neither do I. Is this dinner for the night?" I eye the bowl curiously.

"I looked up recipes that do not require medicine and help with sickness. This was the top recommendation in all the books."

I glance down at the steaming soup, a soft smile tugging at my lips. He...he looked this up. Just for me? My chest warms all over again.

Feeling bold, I rise on my tiptoes and press a soft, featherlight kiss to his cheek.

He freezes. Completely.

I step back, hoping my blush isn't as red as it feels. I scoop up the bowl, placing the spoon inside.

"Thank you." I offer a small, genuine smile.

He just stares—wide-eyed, silent.

I make a quick escape from the kitchen, heart pounding out of rhythm. Why did I do that?! I clutch the bowl like a lifeline and return to my room, trying desperately to erase him from my thoughts.

Failing that, I decide to focus on something more satisfying: how to properly punish my idiotic brother.

Yes. That I can definitely obsess over for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

The night drags on with me sniffling, struggling for breath. Honestly, I get terrible sleep. I wake very early, unable to endure it any longer. Forcing myself out of bed feels like climbing a mountain. Now, I sit in the office with Lau and Ciel. Holding the tea Sebastian handed me, I mull over the events from the night.

Another attack happened, and apparently Soma and Agni were missing for most of it.

Lau flips through the newspaper with a hum, "Meh, to be honest, those two have been ultra-suspicious from the get-go."

"Well, I mean, it makes some sense though, does it not?" I ask rhetorically, watching his reaction.

Sebastian hands my brother a letter, which Lau carefully slices open with a knife. "That is true though. I just can't see why those two would cause trouble." He sighs, then places the letter on the coffee table with little interest. "A grudge against the colonial rule? It just doesn't seem likely. Even if they do have a problem with the Anglo Indians returning to England, attacking them in such a fashion is just too risky. Besides, most of all, if they are criminals why would they come and stay with me of all people? They are not really all that 'suspicious' at all, right?"

"Well then, it would be pretty neat if it was nighttime soon, don't ya think?" Lau points out.

I let out a tired sigh, leaning back in the chair. "All the excitement for the night, huh?" I muse aloud.

Yawning softly, I decide to excuse myself. The night has taken its toll. Too bad I'm already dressed for the day; a nap sounds amazing right now. Corsets are the worst to sleep in, no matter how used to them you are.

On my way past the library, I end up going inside. Maybe a book will help pass the time. Most of these volumes are things I've collected or are for my brother's studies. He picks up the simplest things but calls them difficult. I wish my schoolwork had been that easy.

I skim along the shelves.

It's a small library—just a cozy collection for a house this size. I pull out a history book from the early 1800s. A history buff, I can be, and it seems mildly interesting. Carrying the book, I settle on the comfy couch by a large window.

Curling my legs in, I lean against the armrest and begin reading, partly bored, partly intrigued.

0o0o0o0o

Something jolts me awake from a nap on the couch. The moment I sense it, I snap upright and fling whatever I'm holding toward it.

My book flies across the room while Sebastian dodges with an amused look. I cough, startled from sleep, clutching my chest as my heart races.

"You! Don't you know it's rude to scare people?!" I shout, exasperated.

He picks up the book and brushes off dust. "I am surprised you acknowledged my presence in such a state."

"I didn't know it was you, or else I would have stayed asleep."

He chuckles softly, walking to return the book to its place. I glance over my shoulder to see the sun dipping low. How long was I out? Damn, I must have been exhausted. I yawn again, covering my mouth. Stretching with a drawn-out sigh, I notice the couch is stiff—hardly anyone uses it.

He returns just as I scratch the back of my head, messing up my hair further. "I do not think a book will defend you much if it were a stranger." he quips.

I roll my eyes, chuckling. "No, but it would surprise them." I imagine the scene and snicker. "Anyways, how long were you there for?"

"A few minutes or so."

I raise an eyebrow. "...Watching me sleep?"

His lips curl in a faint smile, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I found the drool coming out of your mouth quite humorous."

My eyes widen in embarrassment, and I wipe my mouth automatically. "Eh?!"

He smirks and heads for the door. "The young master said to inform you that we will be leaving whenever the two take off."

I glare at his back, standing up. "I see. Is dinner almost ready?"

He pulls out his pocket watch as we leave the library. "Yes. In twenty minutes or so."

I nod, following him down the hall. "Sounds good to me."

0o0o0o0o

Dinner passes quickly, as always delicious. Night falls, and we all gather in the study. I pick up another book—not quite so educational this time. The sound of rustling clothing draws my attention. I look up from my fantasy world involving a handsome protagonist to see Soma rising from his chair.

"We'll be off then! Get some sleep midget Ciel!" Soma calls, waving.

Agni opens the door, and soon they're leaving the manor.

We exchange glances and nod. Time to move. Sebastian goes to fetch coats—it's still cold outside. My brother leaves his desk to stand by my side, waiting. I sniffle, irritated by his attitude.

"You shouldn't come with." Ciel says firmly.

I cross my arms defensively and sigh. "I feel fine."

"You just had the fever not but yesterday!"

I glare at the door, hoping Sebastian will be quick. "I can take care of myself."

His face hardens into a scowl. "Have it your way, but if you get worse, don't come to me crying."

"I'm so done with this—" I start, anger bubbling up.

"Young master, my lady, I have arrived with the coats." Sebastian interrupts, cutting off the argument.

I stomp forward, grabbing my coat from his hands. I glare back at my brother and march out, head held high. Ugh, I'm so tired of his attitude, his thought process—everything about him! I shrug on my coat with several huffs. At the front door, I wait for Ciel and Lau. Sliding gloves and a winter hat from my pockets, I feel comfortably warm.

I hear their approach but refuse to acknowledge Ciel. Done with him today.

"I shall fetch the carriage." Sebastian announces, passing me and opening the door.

Soon the carriage arrives, and we all climb in. The ride to London is painfully boring. I sit next to Lau; Ciel notices and keeps glaring at me. Serves him right. Suck it up, twat.

I nearly fall asleep but manage to stay awake until we arrive.

Sebastian helps us out. We set out to find the Indian butler and prince combo. Finding them isn't hard—we basically stalk them from behind corners. They enter shops but don't appear successful. Asking passersby yields no useful information.

Peeking around a corner, my breath fogs in the cold air. Lau's head is just below mine as we creep to the side. "Eh, it really does seem like they are just looking for that person..." Lau observes.

"In this country, the best place to look for news of that person would be in a club or pub. It really seems like they aren't up to anything." Ciel states, standing upright from our crouched positions.

I yawn, sleepy. I'm not usually up this late—not since middle school weekends. My yawn triggers a cough—stupid cold air. "...There's a lot of people in London though. It might take them a while to find her." I say, rubbing my arms to warm up.

"It is now one a.m. I predict they will return soon. We should go too." Sebastian remarks, closing his pocket watch.

0o0o0o0o

Back at the manor, we wait for developments. It's so late I keep dozing in my chair. I want to tell my brother to go to bed, but this is a case. We have to be sure Agni or Soma aren't the culprits. I shuffle and rest my head on my arm. Cracking open sleepy eyes, I see my brother dozing too, clearly out of it. I need to wake up before I actually fall asleep.

Stretching, I rise. It does nothing to clear the sleepiness. I don't trust Lau either—he lounges casually in his chair, bored. I wish radios existed! This silence is soul-crushing.

Walking over to Ciel's desk, I glance out the window behind him. It's open and snow is falling softly. I go around and peer outside, shivering as the cold wind hits me. No wonder Ciel is still half-alert—the cold keeps him awake.

Fixing my wild hair with a sigh, I hope no one leaves and we can get back to bed soon. Leaning against the wall, I watch the snow drift gracefully. I want spring already, tired of Great Britain's cold, miserable weather. It only makes travel harder. Resting my head on the windowsill, I try to keep my mind busy. I wonder briefly if Sebastian feels cold. Can demons even get cold?

Suddenly, Sebastian appears upside down outside the window. I jump back, startled, and let out a startled gasp. He smirks at me.

"Young master, he is making a move," Sebastian announces.

That catches my brother's half-attentive gaze. "Good, so—" he starts, but the study door opens and Soma walks in, cutting him off.

"Wait! You...let me come also." Soma steps in. "I've known for some time that Agni sneaks out while I'm asleep. I want to know what he's up to."

"If you knew, why wait till now to find out?" I ask, folding my arms.

He looks down, regret shading his face. "I didn't think it was serious, but my curiosity's been growing the more it happens."

I sigh, tired, and head to the door. "Well, looks like we're going out, boys. Sebastian, prepare the carriage, please."

He bows quickly. "Yes, my lady."

Sebastian is as swift as ever, and our departure is quick. The ride is mostly silent, exhaustion heavy in the air. We follow Agni and soon reach a nice home in town. A wall separates us from the house, and we can't enter the gates—guards stand watch.

"So, he went inside this building?" Lau asks.

"This looks like..." Ciel muses.

I press a finger to my chin, not recognizing the house. "It looks like a noble's home. That's for sure."

"Right. Maybe we can finally see what's going on." Ciel's breath puffs in front of him.

"What's that supposed to mean? Who lives here?" Soma frets.

"Settle down, prince, no need ta' panic," Lau replies calmly, eyes steady. "If you go in, you'll see the horrible truth—you and I...eh?"

Ciel, Sebastian, and I exchange exasperated looks. "In saying that, you mean you have no idea what's going on either." Ciel calls him out sharply.

"Idiot, just say you don't know!" I snap at Lau, irritation bubbling up.

Lau chuckles, humorless and dry. "Yup! And what is the fun in that anyway?!"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, silently wondering why I put up with this kind of idiocy every single day.

Sebastian interrupts my spiraling thoughts, his voice calm and measured as he explains the place before us. "This is the home of Harold West Jebb. He's involved in the import of various goods."

"I've only met him once while off duty," Ciel adds. "He's rather creepy—not to mention his criminal record."

"I don't recognize the name well," I say, shrugging. Not that it matters much. The name doesn't ring any bells for me.

"Imported goods, eh? Then he and I are in the same business," Lau acknowledges with a sly grin.

I shoot him a deadpan look. "Yeah, real similar in the occupation skills."

He smirks and casually throws an arm around my shoulder. "Lady Rina, you're always so cold to me!"

I choke on air when he touches me and shoot him a quick glare. "Get off me, you fool!"

He laughs and pokes my cheek playfully. "So harsh.~"

I sigh through my nose and catch his hand, grabbing one finger between my thumb and forefinger. Slowly, I lift and pull it back while lowering his arm away from me. His small cries of protest barely escape him, but inside, I can't help but grin a little sadistically.

"Anyways, why would Agni visit this specific person?" I ask, steering us back on topic.

Sebastian steps forward, voice precise and deliberate. "He mostly imports Indian spices and teas. He runs a general store named 'Harold Trading.' He also runs 'Harold's Hindustani Coffeehouse.' Mina's name appeared on some of Lord West's papers. From what I've read, business mostly takes place in the Bengal area. The hanging incident may have hurt the business; however, it seems such damage was avoided due to Lord West being absent while the incidents took place."

I raise an eyebrow at that last detail. "Sounds clearly suspicious."

My brother nods grimly and shifts his gaze toward the wall blocking our path. "I guess we better go in then…"

Sebastian bows slightly. "If it's your wish."

Before I know it, Ciel is already in Sebastian's arms. With a graceful leap, Sebastian vaults over the wall, carrying my panicked brother effortlessly, leaving the three of us behind. I glare at the barrier, feeling zero motivation to scale it myself.

Lau and Soma approach next. Lau climbs it with ease; Soma struggles, muscles trembling. I sigh tiredly, unwilling to exert more energy. Taking a couple of steps back, I sprint toward the wall and practically run up it, grabbing the back of Soma's coat mid-ascent. A grunt escapes me as I haul him up and over.

I toss him down on the other side while still airborne.

Soma flails briefly before hitting the ground with a shrill cry of pain. I snort quietly at the scene and land gracefully beside him, though the impact vibrates painfully through my ankles. I let out a quiet whimper and crouch next to the prone prince, the sting familiar—like stubbing a toe or a cramp seizing a muscle.

"That was rude, you know?!" Soma shouts, eyes brimming with tears.

I scowl at him. "Why are you complaining?! Humans aren't exactly light in weight!"

"You didn't have to throw me to the ground, though!" he protests, sniffling.

A tick twitches at my temple. "I tossed you, I did not throw you."

"You manhandling woman! I could've been seriously hurt, you brute!"

"Wha—!" I start to protest, but Sebastian steps behind us, smacking the backs of our heads with both hands.

"You two, quiet down," he orders, his small glare sharp.

I rub the spot he hit with a pout, and Soma does the same. "Whatever." I mumble and stand.

Soma follows suit, and Lau lands behind us, that infuriating grin firmly in place. I sigh, releasing a small cough. The cold air bites through my clothes, sharp and unwelcome.

Suddenly, a low growl cuts through the quiet.

I glance over to see a couple of mangy, snarling dogs advancing toward us. Instinctively, I move closer to Sebastian, wondering how we'll handle these beasts.

One dog turns, eyes fixed on me, then lunges to attack. I freeze, caught off guard—no idea how to defend myself against such a territorial animal.

"Rina!" Ciel calls out, voice tense.

Then, a dark presence suddenly blankets the area.

The dog hesitates, lowering its head in submission as it eyes Sebastian warily. My gaze shifts to him, and I catch the faint glow of his demon eyes, alive with eerie light. The other dogs pull back, unsettled by the ominous energy radiating from him.

Strangely, I feel comforted—yet uneasy—as if someone slid an ice cube down my spine.

"Huh? The dogs are backing off?" Soma asks, bewildered.

"Hmm. Such cowardly dog's Lord West has raised." Sebastian comments dryly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

I tug gently on Sebastian's sleeve and offer him a small smile. "Thanks for the save."

He bows his head with perfect politeness. "You are most welcome, my lady."

"Yo Earl!~" Lau calls from nearby. Behind him, two guards lie passed out on the ground, their keys jangling between Lau's fingers.

"Bloody hell, Lau! Did you kill them?!" I shriek, rushing over in panic.

He laughs, the keys chiming rhythmically. "Don't worry, little lady. I simply put them to sleep."

I sweatdrop as I stare at their unconscious bodies. "I forget how dangerous you are sometimes."

Lau's grin widens. Ciel sighs behind me, sniffling in the cold. "Let's get a move on then."

Sebastian leads us toward the door, and we file inside one by one. The house isn't large, but it's unmistakably aristocratic.

"There's no one here?" Lau asks, confused.

I catch the sound of two voices from upstairs. "No, there are two people upstairs," I point out.

Sebastian's gaze flickers to me curiously, and I raise an eyebrow in return. He halts and gestures toward the staircase. "Let's go." he instructs.

We quietly ascend, stepping into the hallway.

Following Sebastian to a cracked door, I hover just behind him, peering through the gap. Two male voices drift through—one is definitely Agni's. Pressed close to Sebastian, I force my pounding heart to slow. Why it's racing so hard, I don't know. And honestly, I don't want to find out. Especially since he's so distracting—the scent he carries is so...er...alluring. AH! Stop me! That sounded so creepy! I think, cheeks flaming.

Suddenly, a man inside exclaims, "You did a good job! Why give me that expressionless face? Take a cigar and loosen up a bit, okay?"

I inhale sharply at the sight of Agni sitting on the sofa, looking grim and withdrawn. The other man, unfamiliar to me, holds up a cigar. I grimace—smoking is a filthy habit. West seems arrogant—no doubt an aristocrat, especially with those snakeskin shoes.

"These are grade A Havana cigars. I got these babies from James Fox; he has a royal warrant," the man informs, holding the cigar up like a prize. He turns to Agni, clasping his hand. "Everything is going to plan. In one week, it will all be decided. Only with this 'right hand of God' will I realize my dream."

I feel Lau move behind me, something grazing my bottom. My eyes widen, and I spin around to glare at him. He smirks slyly. I raise my hands as if to strangle his skinny neck. "Die." I mutter low, my threat laced with venom.

He chuckles silently just as someone's arm snakes around my waist. Sebastian pulls me close to his side, shooting a glare at Lau and then returning his attention to the room.

I simmer with rage, wanting to tear Lau to pieces, but we must be as quiet as possible. And judging by Sebastian's iron grip, I'm not speaking anytime soon—or anywhere else, for that matter.

My attention drifts from the conversation as I find myself distracted by the handsome demon beside me. Suddenly, Soma races past and flings the door wide open.

Sebastian yanks my brother and me back, shielding us from sight.

"You said, Mina?!" Soma shouts, disbelief lacing his voice.

Gasps echo, and I stiffen with panic. This idiot prince!

"You fool!" Ciel whispers harshly, but Sebastian clamps a hand over his mouth.

I squirm in Sebastian's hold but keep silent—no hand over my mouth for me, thank you very much. "Ssh...he would recognize our faces. Let's just wait for now." Sebastian advises softly.

We listen as Agni and Soma argue, though it sounds more like shouting. Finally, Soma orders Agni to defeat the other man in the room, but no action follows—confusing us all.

"Agni, what are you waiting for?!" Soma demands.

"Agni. Throw out this fussy prince," West commands with a cheeky grin.

"Huh?!" Soma exclaims, appalled. "Can't you hear me?!" he pleads desperately.

Uh oh, I think, a sweatdrop prickling my temple. It looks like Agni is no longer on our side.

"This doesn't look good, guys," I murmur low.

Sebastian frowns and straightens up. "They are starting to argue."

"Well, back to what we were talking about before...it seems Lord West is involved. It also seems that this has something to do with the black market." Ciel observes thoughtfully.

"So then, this is the Earl's jurisdiction since the black market is involved." Lau states.

"Indeed," Ciel replies. "Reporting this to the Yard could be problematic. Perhaps we should just go home now..."

My mood perks at the idea. "I like that idea," I comment.

His lips twitch into a slight smile before frowning again. "That would be nice, but I have another idea. I want to watch West a while longer. This time I will save that foolish prince."

"But won't he recognize us? Well—erm—you the most." I point out.

"Yep—" Ciel begins but is cut off.

Sebastian already has a sly smirk painted across his face. "Leave it to me. I have a good idea."

I raise an eyebrow, curious. "You and good? Those don't mix well."

"You'll just have to watch and learn, my lady."

Curiosity claws at me. What could the butler be planning? Shouting grows louder inside the room. I peek through the crack as Agni and Soma become heated, voices rising with emotion.

Suddenly, Agni seizes Soma in a vice grip. My eyes widen in shock. This is unlike Agni—to harm or touch the prince like that. His expression darkens as he raises his arm—was that going to be a slap? Hard.

But then a streak of black flashes past me, tossing my hair as it zooms into the room. Sebastian's black butler form materializes in an instant, tailcoat flapping behind him. Damn, that arch is flawless—leave it to a demon to look attractive. Apparently, it's not even that hard. What a showoff.

The room falls silent, stunned and confused, until Sebastian lifts his head.

I can't help but suck in a breath and laugh. What the actual hell is on his head?! HAHAHA.

I start shaking with suppressed laughter as tears gather in my eyes, while Ciel shoots me a resigned sweatdrop.

"I-It's so funny." I wheeze quietly.

"Shut up." Ciel whispers back, his voice low but sharp.

"Who the heck is that?!" West yells, his tone slicing through the tension.

Sebastian pivots toward West, bowing with a theatrical flair, hand sweeping across his chest. "I am a deer sent to collect the prince."

Lau smirks, eyes flicking up to the bare wall where the stuffed deer head once hung. "Using a stuffed deer, good one butler."

"To hide his face, despite how dumb it looks." I laugh, trying to steady my nerves amidst the chaos.

The yelling swells louder from the room and I cautiously peek inside.

"This is probably one of the prince's spies, Agni!" West shouts, retreating next to Agni.

"No, I am just a deer to the core." Sebastian replies, voice muffled beneath the costume.

I snort quietly, amused by the absurdity.

"Destroy him!" West commands Agni sharply.

Agni's eyes dart between West and the deer, panic flashing. "Destroy him?! I can't—"

"Shut up! Do you want me to take back my promise? I order you to do this!" West barks, urgency thick in his voice. "Do it now!"

Agni's resolve crumbles. His body trembles—not with fear, but something darker. "I...I—" His muttering trails off. I spot drops of blood falling onto the floor from his clenched right fist. He collapses, head bowed, pain etched deep in his posture. Oh, Agni...what are you doing to yourself? It's painfully clear he needs help, or at least some kind of reassurance.

"My God...I only serve him. This right hand I use only for his sake, I've chosen this sin of betrayal..."

My throat tightens, almost tearing up. My heart aches for Agni, truly.

"Agni, no..." Soma's voice is a soft whisper of desperation.

"Please forgive me..." Agni groans, yanking off the bandages wrapped around his right arm. A scream rips from his throat, raw and horrifying. His eyes—bleeding. Tears of blood spill down his face. I've never seen anything like it. This world never stops surprising me.

Agni jerks upright, right hand tense and useless, vision blurred. He lashes out suddenly toward Sebastian, who stands protectively in front of Soma.

Sebastian quickly moves them both aside. Agni, eyes still bleeding, seethes with rage. His punch shatters the wall behind Sebastian, who deftly dodges as the blow destroys a chest. I stare in disbelief. This man is human? Or something else entirely? I feel like I'm trapped inside a movie—no, a parallel universe seems more fitting.

"Not the chest I got at general trading!" West cries out, aghast.

Agni ignores him, relentlessly attacking Sebastian. The butler ducks and weaves, causing Agni to slam fist after fist into walls and furniture. West's cries of loss grow louder with each destruction. I'd laugh if this weren't so intense.

Lau suddenly moves behind me, scooping up my brother who gasps in protest.

"Lau! Put him down!" I whisper-shout, barely audible over the uproar.

He grins. "My little lady, I suggest you follow me. Things are getting a bit wild—we should leave."

"Give my brother back. I don't want your perverted hands on him."

Ciel mutters with a slight twitch, "Let's just get out of here."

Lau darts down the hallway, my brother calling after him, "Wait! A commotion this loud will attract attention! You need to bring him out too!"

I assume he means Sebastian and I race after Lau. The man moves fast, but I keep pace. We all burst out into the yard, leaping over the wall again. At the carriage, silence falls like a heavy blanket, each of us lost in thought.

I always feel like I think too much, but sometimes I forget I live with a demon. Not to mention, in a world where I suppose God exists—though I'm not even sure He existed in my original world.

I sigh quietly to myself. Too much is happening tonight.

Back at the manor, we gather in a room like a living room. Ciel's expression is clouded with thought. Soma looks depressed; Lau, his usual steady self. We wait for tea, which Sebastian prepares swiftly.

When he returns, cups in hand, I set mine down untouched on the coffee table.

"So...are we going to talk about how Agni demolished a whole room? It was like he had superpowers." I say.

"It was incredible. He was beyond human," Ciel agrees.

"It's called Samadhi. Anyone with it has that power." Soma states flatly.

I tilt my head, curious. "Samadhi?"

"It's part of their religion. Like entering a trance, isn't it?" Sebastian muses aloud. "Humans are strange creatures. Their blind belief, what they call strong faith, can summon enormous strength. Vikings called upon Odin; holy knights and crusaders fought in the name of Yahweh." His dark gaze deepens. "For Agni, his belief in his one true God, Soma, grants him that power. Something we demons could never have. Born from love and faith. The power of 'faith.'" He smiles faintly, hand to chest.

He glances at my brother with a smirk. Ciel looks indifferent. I frown, thinking only of my brother's plight. I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat, if it didn't break the contract.

"Such deep emotions—the will to attach to someone like that..." I murmur to myself. It shows how far Agni will go to appease Soma—even to betrayal.

Soma sits beside me, head bowed low. "Then tell me, why...did he betray me?" His anger flares; he sweeps the tea from the table in a furious gesture. Some splashes onto me. The fresh warmth stings where it seeps through my dress and into my skin. It even splatters my hair.

"How did he leave me behind so easily?!" Soma cries.

I slowly grow irritated at the tea and his tantrum.

"You..." Ciel begins.

"Why?!" Soma cuts him off. "Why does everyone around me vanish?!" He shouts, breath ragged. "Why...why..."

He stands abruptly and storms out.

Sebastian approaches me, holding a hand towel.

"My lady, are you alright?" he asks quietly.

I take the towel, irritation lingering. "Somewhat."

I dab the tea stains on my dress carefully. A piece of broken china slices my skin, hidden by the fabric. It bleeds.

"Ow!" I cry softly, sucking on the wound as the bleeding slows.

Sebastian's eyes flick to my hand, then to the shattered tea set on the floor.

"The Haviland tea set I went through the trouble of selecting for the young master..." he mutters, disappointed. "I suppose I should teach him some manners."

I stand, feeling the need to change. "I'll follow you upstairs."

Sebastian nods. Before I leave, I shoot my brother a pointed look. "Behave."

He scowls. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out."

I sigh, finger throbbing, and follow Sebastian. He's a few steps ahead, so I jog to catch up.

"What are you going to do?" I ask.

He smirks. "As I said earlier."

"Basically, criticize him?"

"It will be a lesson."

"I'm guessing it's a lesson about life."

"Something like that."

I shake my head. "Knowing you, it'll be harsh."

"What you humans consider harsh makes me question your intelligence."

I gape at him. "Hey, our brains work differently from yours. Mister, I-can-see-in-the-dark—that's how I was built."

His gaze flickers down, amusement glinting in his eyes. "It must be hard to live as such a pathetic species."

I smack his arm hard. "Whoa—okay. Sorry for being so uncool like you! Must be fun making fun of what you eat."

"You humans do it too; hypocritical."

I scowl at the floor. "Touché. But my food doesn't understand me."

He stops suddenly; I halt after a few steps, puzzled. His expression darkens. "What?"

"I don't understand."

"Wow, that's a first."

He frowns and steps closer, demon eyes flickering alive. "You confuse me beyond understanding sometimes. Like now."

I stare into his eyes, lost in their strange color. "A conversation confuses you?"

"More of the context. You should show at least an ounce of fear, no matter how comfortable you are around me."

My eyes widen. He's pointing out the obvious. I should be afraid. Yet I feel no fear. Why? Maybe it's because I'm open—open to all possibilities. I'm more scared of being lost forever, lost and alone in a world not my own.

A demon is frightening—I'm no idiot—but that's not my only fear. I fear losing this family I've built here. Even losing Sebastian. One day, I might just vanish, like I did in my old world.

I don't realize I'm trembling, hands clammy.

"Your desires and nature are not what frightens me. I have more pressing concerns."

His eyes widen, human once more. "Again, what could be more fearful than a demon?"

"...Life? My life? My brothers? I don't know how long I'll be here."

His eyebrows furrow. He grabs my arm as if that might help him understand. "Please explain."

I bow my head sadly, trying to pull away. He tightens his grip painfully. "I can't."

"All you humans keep secrets. I easily sense their kind—dark and foolish. But with you, I only get emotional feedback. A hint. Never a taste."

"You should leave me be, Sebastian. I'm not worth the energy."

Suddenly, he pulls me close. My body crashes into his. I gasp softly, surprised. He grabs my chin, demon eyes blazing, close to mine. Something twists inside me—a shiver running down my neckI can't explain. I like the feeling...and that scares me.

"Let...let me go." I mutter weakly.

"I want to know what it is about you that entrances me so."

I freeze. Does he sense I'm different? It would explain his earlier glances and coldness. This is dangerous—I need to get away.

"Can I have a taste? Just a sip," he whispers darkly.

I notice his sharp teeth and blanch. My heartbeat pounds in my ears. His gaze devours me. He's hungry. Is this his hidden nature? Predatory, raw. My cheeks flush, caught between fear and something like excitement. WHY am I excited? I scream silently.

"W-Why...are you asking if you can?" I breathe out.

He seems startled by my question, then his face hardens, blank. He tosses me aside, into the wall.

I cry out in pain, rubbing my back. When I look up, he's gone.

…Did I just dream that? Maybe I really should sleep.

I rub my back slowly, heading toward my room. I've never seen Sebastian like that before. Did I want to? Another side of him—one I don't understand. I don't trust myself around him. I'm crazy enough to want to believe in a demon.

I sigh, scratching my head, my mind buzzing with frustration and curiosity. It's time to finally sleep.

Chapter Text

Dragging myself through the hallways, I wander toward the kitchen in hopes of finding something to eat—something light, preferably. I slept later than I meant to, but that's what I get for staying up so late. I'm used to a stricter schedule: up early, bed early. Most mornings, I train right after waking.

Today...I don't really feel the need.

Not after that mishap with Sebastian last night.

It took me ages to fall asleep.

As I descend the stairs, I spot the servants heading toward the kitchen. I trail after them, catching up just as they hover near the doorway. That's when the smell hits me—late, but hard. The air is thick with the scent of spices, sharp and heady enough to make my sinuses throb. My nose is still a little stuffed, so I can't get a clear sense of it.

My cold's slowly easing up, but last night I couldn't stop shivering.

I pause outside the kitchen, watching the others go inside. They're probably chatting with Sebastian. I hesitate. I'm not sure I want to walk into a room with him right now. Last night...left me with a lot of mixed feelings, and one of them, unfortunately, is awkwardness. Do I really want to see him?

I steel myself. Then I step in.

"What are you cooking this morning?" Bard asks tiredly.

"Curry," Sebastian replies in that flat, unreadable tone. His back is to us. He doesn't realize I'm here yet.

"Oh, that's a rare choice for you. What kind of curry will it be then?"

"Prince Soma is here also, so I am thinking of making chicken curry. I have rarely cooked it because of the young master."

I tilt my head. Curry? At this hour? Sure, curry's good—but it's heavy on spice. I don't mind spicy food, but sometimes it gets to be a bit much. Still, thinking about it makes me crave spicy chicken wings. Of course, they don't exist yet. The realization makes me sigh as I shuffle farther into the kitchen, already feeling weirdly nostalgic.

"Oh! Good morning, Miss Rina!" Mey-Rin chirps.

I manage a tired smile. "Mornin'."

Finny beams at me while grabbing a roll. "Good morning!"

He tears off a piece and hands it to me before heading over to the servants' table. I follow, sliding into the seat across from him. There's jam already laid out on the table—strawberry, maybe—and I spread a bit across the warm bread.

That's when I feel it. A heavy gaze burning into me. I glance up and catch Sebastian staring, eyes narrowed, mouth drawn into a frown. His grip on the wooden ladle is tight.

I don't look away. Let him stare. "My lady, I believe I have told you not to come in here. It is not proper."

I chomp down on the bread, talking through my mouthful. "And I don't care."

His eyebrow twitches. "A young lady should care about her reputation."

I snort—actually snort—and swallow the bite. A breathless laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "No one cares about me besides who lives in this household and maybe some scattered family."

Bard plops down beside me, slinging an arm over my shoulders with a lazy grin. "This is why I like ya'! So different from most of those boring noble women out there."

I smirk, smug. "See? Even Bard likes how I behave."

Sebastian sighs, sweat-dropping as he returns to the counter to prep more ingredients. "That is because Bard is uncultured."

I clamp my lips shut to stop another laugh. Bard's face darkens as he pulls away. "What did you say?!" he snaps.

My shoulders shake, the insult too good. "Isn't that saying most men are uncultured, then?" I shoot back with a devious grin.

"Not you too!" Bard groans.

I laugh—loud, real, and unfiltered. It feels good, like all the tension draining from me. My eyes start to water and I wipe them with the back of my hand. "You guys...so gullible. You men really don't know how to take a joke."

"Bard, your face! Hah!" Finny cracks up beside me.

"It's too early in the morning for these insults!" Bard wails.

"Cheer up!" Mey-Rin pats his head as she walks past.

I snicker, taking another bite of my bread with a grin. "Today might not be so bad after all."

My gaze flicks to Sebastian.

He's locked in concentration, completely ignoring us now. Probably for the best. He could use a break from my weird energy. I glance down at the crumbs on my plate. A little sadness creeps into my smile. I know I don't quite fit in. I never really do. Like a puzzle piece that doesn't belong, warping the picture just by existing.

I sigh through my nose and finish the rest of my roll.

When Mey-Rin leaves the kitchen, I follow soon after. No point lingering near Sebastian. Feeling slightly more energized, I decide to work out. Might as well pass the time until lunch. Probably curry.

Jogging through the hallway and up the stairs, I head to the guest bedroom I've been using. Soma is still sleeping in mine. Typical. I open the dresser and pull out my pre-customized clothes. Off comes the nightgown, and on go my underwear. Nina struggled with figuring out a design that worked for me, but honestly, I prefer it this way.

I throw on a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts, tug on some tights and socks, then slide into my bendy—not-quite-gym—shoes. They're flexible, and that's all I need. I tie my hair back into a ponytail and pin back the shorter fringe. Once I'm satisfied with how I look, I grab my cloak and fasten it loosely around my chest to stay decent.

Rounding the corner by the staircase, I nearly barrel into someone.

"Ah!"

Ciel turns to look over his shoulder, brow arched. "Why are you running?"

I rub the back of my head, sheepish. "Going to train in the yard."

"Oh, I see."

I try to move around him, but he stops me.

"Wait—"

"What?"

His face stays blank, but his eye sharpens. "I don't understand why you continue to exercise."

"We've gone over this."

"You shouldn't have to push yourself. I have Sebastian to protect me, so you needn't worry anymore."

I follow him down the stairs, irritation creeping in. "You forget something."

"Which is?"

"Who's going to protect me?"

He freezes mid-step, eye widening. "That—It would be me, obviously."

"You know that can't happen."

"I can order Sebastian to protect you. I'll even lower myself to pulling out my pistol if something ever happens to you."

We stop at the bottom step and face each other.

"And what if we're both in danger, brother?" I ask, quiet but firm.

His mouth opens slightly, words dying on his tongue.

"You know Sebastian has to protect you, right?"

"I—…"

"This is why I train, Ciel. Because one day, it might be just me against whatever threat is out there. I do this for a lot of reasons. I need you to understand, Feni."

He clenches his teeth. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

I soften, touched by how fiercely he means it. "Don't worry. I'll hurt them first."

I pat his head with a small smile and turn away.

"Rina..."

"Have someone fetch me when lunch is ready, okay?" I say over my shoulder.

Outside, the chill air smacks me in the face. I'm going to freeze my ass off. The wind bites at my ankles as I descend into the yard. Maybe I'll keep the cloak on, at least for now.

I start with some stretching, then break into a brisk jog. Cold air stings my cheeks as I circle the estate grounds, running the full property line. Back and forth, a few laps in, I start to sweat.

By the time I stop in the backyard, my breathing's a bit heavier, but this is nothing. Just enough to wake my body up. I shrug off the cloak, the cold air a welcome contrast now. I wipe sweat from my temple and begin a circuit: jumping jacks, crunches, planks. I find a sturdy tree and use a branch for pull-ups, feeling the strain in my core and thighs. Each count tightens something deep in my muscles.

And that tension—that quiet burn—is exactly what I need.

Once I hit a hundred, I drop to the ground with a relieved exhale. My arms throb, and my hands pulse red from strain. Hanging off a tree branch is wildly uncomfortable—I don't know how our ancestors managed. Then again, I glance down at my flushed palms, fingers twitching slightly—evolution really is something.

I don't understand how Sebastian sees us. Sure, humans can be idiots—but we're also geniuses. I doubt demons would've invented the internet before we did. I don't see them launching themselves to the moon either.

So why do they look down on us?

I get that we're a food source, but looking at it logically—beyond their physical perks and magical bullshit—what exactly makes them superior?

The question clings to my thoughts like sap as I take it out on the training dummy tucked deep in the forest next. I don't think Sebastian knows I set this up—or maybe he does. Who knows with that freak? Either way, I hammer into the dummy like it's a real enemy, each punch landing with a satisfying crackle from the rice stuffing inside.

I pivot, side-kick the dummy square in the face, and another thought strikes. Why don't humans, demons, and Grim Reapers ever work together?

It'd make sense. Pooling knowledge and power like that could move the world forward faster than anything. The ideas, the potential—it would be extraordinary. Everyone could gain something. Maybe this happens in the future of this timeline? The possibilities spiral, too many for my already overworked brain to hold.

Honestly, it'd make for a decent book. Maybe I should write it.

I take a step back and stare at the mangled dummy. My old world was confusing, sure, but this one? This one is pure chaos. For God's sake, my brother is in a contract with a demon.

"My lady." Sebastian calls out behind me.

I freeze. Damn it. I didn't notice him. That's rare. Must've been too deep in my head. I whirl around with wide eyes. It's like he knows when I'm thinking about him. Idiot's going to be the death of me one day.

"W-What is it?" I ask, voice hitching a bit.

"Lunch will be served in an hour."

I nod, brushing a hand through my sweat-slick bangs. "Be there soon then."

He turns as if to leave, then pauses halfway, eyes trailing over my flushed, exposed state. The cold breeze shifts his bangs slightly as he analyzes me. "I question your mental state to be wearing such a...unladylike outfit."

I glance down. The tights hug my legs like a second skin. "Do you expect me to be exercising in a corset?"

He frowns, just a little. "No, but there are dresses designed for such movement."

I huff and cross my arms. "Must you judge everything I wear? Why does a demon care?"

"I am thinking of your reputation as a woman in human society. It would not do to lower my lord's if you were seen in such a state."

"Ah, I see now. Makes sense," I murmur as I approach him. "...However, I'll keep doing what I want. I deserve that much."

"That's quite selfish of you."

That hits a nerve. My jaw tightens. "If I'm not mistaken, you were the one who stated humans are known to be selfish. So, I don't care what your opinion is at the moment."

The words fly out before I can stop them.

His crimson eyes widen for a split second, then fade back into that cold, unreadable calm. "You are correct. However, as you have also mentioned, that selfishness has a limit. And my lady, you are at your quota."

That stuns me. He turns and walks away.

Flashbacks slam into me—starvation, the cold, the weeks before Vincent found me. I'd been on the verge of dying. I was thirteen. That was hell. And in my little world, I believe I have some right to be selfish, considering the circumstances of the past and present.

How dare he?

My hands curl into fists. Just because my brother went through hell doesn't mean I didn't too. Gritting my teeth, I dash after Sebastian, fury flooding my chest. He knows I'm coming—I'm not subtle.

I don't even try to mask my emotions or footsteps.

He dodges my punch with infuriating ease, stepping aside with a practiced calm. His face is unreadable but I know he's irritated.

"Y-You...You don't get to walk away and judge me!"

"I am not judging—I am assessing. And you, my lady, are a conundrum."

I stomp toward him. "Even if so, I don't appreciate you making assumptions!"

He smiles, that annoying, eyes-closed, patronizing smile. "My lady, as I stated last night, you are merely exotic food to me."

My breath catches. My heart aches like someone stabbed through it.

Food. That's all I am to him.

And what do you do with food? You play with it. Like a child. He's been playing with me this whole time. I may surprise him occasionally, but in the end, I'm just a meal waiting to be devoured.

Companionship? What a joke. To him, saying I'm his friend is like me claiming a cow is my best friend.

My grip on his jacket slackens. My neck and heart both throb with the weight of this realization.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. The rage drains out of me all at once, like it was never even there.

His eyes widen in shock. "What are you apologizing for?"

I offer him a small, pained smile and let go. My arms fall to my sides. I think I finally understand what I've been feeling around him all this time.

I'm in love with a demon.

God, I'm an idiot.

A tear slips out before I can stop it. I swipe it away fast. Crying in front of a demon—pathetic. He's probably enjoying this. His toy breaking down in front of him. Typical demon.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot." I mutter, lips twisting into a broken smile.

He looks...lost. As if the puzzle pieces don't quite click.

Good. Maybe I've done a good job hiding it after all.

You'd think Sebastian, of all people, would know when a girl's fallen for him. Especially someone who looks like that. Lust is demonic, isn't it? He has to know.

"I'm afraid you have confused me more."

I smile again. More tears trickle down. "D-Don't...worry about it. I'm fine. Or will be."

He raises an eyebrow and leans down slightly, towering over me. "You forget I am able to tell when a person is lying. And, my lady, I believe you are doing so—not only to me, but to yourself as well."

"Why would you care if I was?"

He doesn't answer. Just stares, like he's searching for something in my expression.

I force myself to stop crying. I have to crawl out of this pit. I shouldn't love him. It's idiotic. He'll eat my brother one day. He's a killer. He's evil.

This discussion is even more evidence.

I brush past him, snatch my cloak from a nearby branch, and walk away, trying to hold myself together. I feel his gaze on my back the whole time, but I don't look back.

I can't.

0o0o0o0o

After I wash up—and cry more in the bathtub—I manage to be just on time for the evening meal. I slide into the seat beside my little brother, who keeps sneaking me worried glances like I might crack in half if he looks away too long. Maybe it's written all over my face—how much I hate myself right now. How this throbbing ache keeps flaring up in my chest, sharp and random and unbearable.

Across from me, Lau floats somewhere in his own quiet world. Soma takes the far end of the table, sitting across from Ciel.

Eventually, Sebastian glides in with the curry he's made for us.

I keep my eyes fixed anywhere but on him. The shame sits heavy in my throat like wet fabric—suffocating and clinging. I'm not ready to face him. Not today. Probably not for the rest of the week.

He sets the curry in front of me. I feel his gaze linger during the whole exchange.

Of course I do. My skin prickles just from his proximity. After the plates are laid out, he moves around the table, pouring tea into our cups with elegant precision.

The curry smells fine. Honestly, it looks pretty appetizing. I brace myself, thinking maybe—just maybe—it might help shake this mood.

Before I can try it, Soma makes a loud, shocked sound. "Yuck!" he voices as he puts the spoon down.

"..." Ciel is silent for once.

I glance over at Soma, puzzled. "Yuck?" I echo, tilting my head.

I scoop up a spoonful, curious now. The taste is...odd. Definitely not what I was expecting. Kind of grainy? I force myself to swallow and steal a glance at Sebastian. My chest tightens painfully the moment I do, but I push through it.

"This...isn't the best," I admit with a shrug, trying to play it off like it doesn't disappoint me a little.

"It doesn't please you two, then?" Sebastian asks with a concerned look.

"AH!" Soma cries out. "No, no, it's just that it's too different from what I have had in India. This...this..."

"To be blunt," I cut in, gesturing at the plate with my spoon, "it sucks."

Soma nods in agreement. "Firstly, the taste is too weak, and I can't smell anything. I can still feel something like powder in my mouth, such a thing is just not curry."

Sebastian puts a finger to his chin in thought. "That's weird, I used the finest curry powder..."

"Curry powder? What is that?" Soma asks.

"Well, that's where the problem lies," I point out. "There is no powder in curry. That's something people use when they don't know how to properly cook the recipe. Curry usually uses fresh spices instead of powder."

"Miss Rina is correct. I have never seen this powder in India, nor did Agni ever use such a thing. In my palace, I have servants who are just for grinding spices. Spices will decide the color and spiciness, but the most important thing is the flavor. The smell will fade away if you do not grind the spices." Soma informs.

"So, it's out of the question, to use such a thing as curry powder that already has ground spices." Sebastian notes.

"What's more, Agni's curry has different tastes and colors depending on the ingredients. I think he will combine them to match well with the ingredients." Soma further explains.

"Then West has the advantage. He controls the distribution with his own company, he can secure the high-quality products. Well, firstly it looks like we need to collect fresh spices of high quality." Ciel says.

"We don't have much time. If we don't instantly contact a trading company..." Sebastian mentions with a finger to his chin in thought; however, he drifts off and we all look at Lau.

"Er..." Lau voices, now put on the spot.

About time he was useful, I think dryly, lips twitching just a little.

"Well, it sounds like the competition is on," I say as I stand up. "I'm going to go chillax for the rest of the day."

Soma gives me a puzzled look as I walk off.

I slip away from the table and make a quiet detour into the kitchen, scanning for anything sweet and preferably terrible for me. Leftover desserts—jackpot. I gather a small mountain of them in my arms like a thief and glance around one last time.

A flash of red catches my eye.

My gaze lands on a deep crimson bottle of wine sitting near the cooking supplies. It's the kind Sebastian uses sometimes when he cooks. My teeth sink into my lip, hesitating only a moment before I snatch that too—along with a glass. Screw it. Hopefully, a little wine won't do any damage.

Even if I end up a bit tipsy, it's not like anyone's expecting me to do anything productive today. I drift back down the halls toward my bedroom, arms full. No one should bother me there. Hopefully.

It's moments like this I miss technology more than anything. Curling up and watching a cheesy romcom sounds like heaven right now. My mom and I used to do that—even when I was little.

She let me stay up and watch them, pretending I understood the romance.

Once I reach the room, I awkwardly fumble with the doorknob, trying not to drop my loot. It takes too many tries, but I finally get the door open and kick it shut behind me.

Last time I drank alcohol, nobody even noticed. I've never actually been drunk though. I'm not that reckless. My brother would kill me. Ha.

I set everything down on the floor—blankets, desserts, wine. I drag every pillow off the bed and make myself a makeshift nest on the rug. It's cozy. I strip into some comfy clothes, loose and soft, and curl into the cocoon. For a second, I let myself imagine this is my old room. Not this fancy replacement that doesn't quite feel like mine.

I start on the desserts. Most of them involve chocolate. I don't even know what half of them are, but they all taste amazing. I lie on my stomach, propping a book against a pillow, and let myself read. Mindlessly.

Absorbing someone else's story feels safer than thinking about my own.

I sip the wine slowly as the hours slip by. A glass turns into two. The bottle empties little by little. The words on the page start to blur and double, my vision fuzzy around the edges. I blink hard, hiccuping once—and then giggle at the sound.

Setting the book aside, I flop onto my back and grin at the ceiling. It's swirling in the prettiest patterns. I lift my hand and trace the curves in the air, amazed by how sparkly everything feels.

Eventually I sit up, bored of ceiling art. Another hiccup escapes, and the motion makes the room tilt.

Wait...did my room always look like this?

No, no—this isn't my room. My room is where that stupid prince sleeps now. I want it back. I pout.

Standing seems like a good idea until I actually do it. The ground tilts. I stumble back a step or two but manage to catch myself, wobbling slightly. I shuffle over to my mirror and grab the small table beneath it to steady myself.

I look into the glass, blinking at my reflection.

Am I...pretty?

I think I am. So why doesn't anyone want me?

Pretty eyes. My eyes are nice.

Sebastian's eyes are prettier. And that ridiculous face of his—total fuckboy vibes. He's like Edward Cullen but way darker and cooler. Not even a vampire, but he looks like one. All that black. So dramatic.

Sebastian is sooo cool.

I've never met anyone like him. Not even Thor.

Wait—Thor!

"He's a God!" I yell, bursting into laughter. "Lightning strike!"

I slam my fist down on the mirror stand, pretending it's Mjölnir.

The wood snaps beneath my hand. The stand crumbles to the floor with a crash.

I stare at the wreckage.

"...Oopsie."

0o0o0o0o

After that ridiculous afternoon of getting tipsy as hell, I spend the next two days hiding in my bedroom as much as possible. I'm doing everything I can to avoid Sebastian. He notices—of course he does—but he doesn't seem to care. He doesn't even look at me. If anything, that stings more than I'd like to admit.

I wish I could stop liking him altogether. With how cold he's being, I should take the hint: nothing will ever happen between us. I need to drill that into my stubborn skull.

But it's easier said than done.

I sigh as I stroll down the staircase. My room has become suffocating, and I need some air. My resolve to ignore him is already starting to crack.

From down the hall, I catch the faint shuffle of movement and voices outside. Curious, I make my way to the kitchen, then toward the back door. It's already propped open, letting in a burst of sunlight and the scent of something foreign.

Outside, I spot a carriage pulled up in the courtyard, flanked by the servants, Sebastian, and Soma. Bags upon bags of something are being unloaded—spices, I realize. Lau must've pulled through. Looks like we managed to get what we needed just in time.

I step outside and descend the stairs, heading straight for Soma.

"They are all things I have seen in my country!" Soma exclaims, beaming.

I can't help but smile in return, drawn in by his bright enthusiasm. I glance at the spices in his hands, the scent drifting up to meet me. "They smell nice," I say honestly.

"Amazinggggg! All of these are ingredients for curry!" Finnian announces, lugging five massive bags over his shoulders.

I sweatdrop. No normal human should be able to carry that much. I glance over to see Bard barely managing with just one.

"It all smells wonderful," Sebastian remarks with a faint smile, holding a handful of spices. "They are premium spices."

"To prepare them all in one day...the Earl sure has a rough way to use people. I'm not even an expert in spices." Lau comments, smiling with a shrug.

"For once you're useful, Lau." I mutter with a smirk as I walk up beside him.

"Little Lady, that is quite rude. I do much to help."

"I think your definition of help is warped."

"I do not mind giving out favors."

"Then, I'll cook some curry with these spices right away," Sebastian declares. "Prince Soma, only you know Agni's godly curry. Could you please give me some advice regarding the taste of it?"

"I don't mind. But does a British person like you know how to use all these spices?" Soma asks, a trace of doubt in his tone. He suddenly darts behind me, hands clutching my shoulder and side with a jittery grip. "I just thought it will be hard for you if you aren't used to it...it's just that it's not something you should fool around with!"

I shake him off, mildly annoyed. Seriously? Face Sebastian yourself, don't use me as a shield!

"Is it really alright?" Soma presses, worry dripping from every syllable.

"Who knows?" Ciel replies with a bored yawn.

"Please just wait for me to finish," Sebastian says with a polite smile and a hand over his heart.

"If anyone can do it, it's Sebastian." I add, feeling the conversation begin to wrap up. I turn to head back into the manor, wondering what I should do in the meantime.

0o0o0o0o

After killing some time at the piano—I hadn't played in a while, but my fingers still remember the motions—I finally head back down. Hunger gnaws at my stomach, and the closer I get to the dining room, the more mouthwatering the smell becomes.

The scent of curry and spices practically lures me in like a siren's call.

Inside, I find my brother, Soma, and Lau already seated, lazily playing cards as they wait. No food on the table yet, so I quietly slip into the seat beside Ciel.

The room feels oddly still.

I wonder if Sebastian can actually pull this off. He thrives on challenges, but curry isn't exactly simple. I sigh quietly, thoughts drifting to him again. Why am I still stuck on this? What do I even like about him that much? I have too many questions and not enough answers.

The doors push open, and Sebastian enters with a cart full of food. The aroma intensifies—rich spices, savory chicken—it floods the room.

He begins serving us, the scent somehow even more intense up close. I can't stop the small smile that forms on my lips. Food might not fix everything, but it sure helps soften a tired heart and a messy mind.

"Sorry for the wait. Here is the curry featuring soft chicken boiled with spices and onions. It's seasoned with coriander and yogurt." Sebastian announces.

Soma jumps up, stunned. "You made this?! It's been two hours!"

Sebastian exhales, sounding almost...dejected. "Yeah, I spent two hours on it. I apologize for making you wait."

A laugh nearly escapes me. The way he says it makes it sound like he just finished a twelve-hour shift at a steel mill.

"It's okay. Besides, this smell...it's really similar to Agni's curry," Soma admits, sniffing carefully. He sits again, staring at the dish. "How did you do it in such a short time?!"

I spot a smirk stretch across Sebastian's lips and have to look away. Seriously, what is wrong with me? His damn smirk is practically hypnotic.

"It's an easy task," he replies, smirk turning into his usual serene smile. "I just tasted all the spices."

"All of them? All of them?!" Soma exclaims in disbelief.

My brow furrows. Wait a second. I thought he didn't eat human food. Despised it, even. So how—?

"Yes. I tried to combine the spices that would achieve the same smell as Agni's curry from the other morning."

"You could just do it from the smell?" Soma asks, baffled.

"My nose is better than a human's." Sebastian says, gesturing to it.

"Too bad your brains aren't..." I mutter under my breath.

He hears it, naturally. A faint tick mark appears at his temple. I sip at my water, trying to act casual. Whoops. That one might come back to haunt me.

Why do I keep giving him ammunition?

"Meh prince, Che Bi You Lu. How about trying to eat it first?" Lau suggests, gesturing to the curry.

Soma adjusts his chair, nodding. "Eh sure...okay. Let's give it a go..."

"The smell is totally different from before. These spices give off a nice smell." Soma says, spoon dipping into the dish.

Lau takes his first bite and lights up. "This is...Mai Pao!" he exclaims. "The taste of ground spices really stimulates the appetite. The well-done chicken is so soft it just melts in my mouth."

After such glowing praise, I dig into my own bowl. The second it hits my tongue, I deflate like a balloon. Lau wasn't exaggerating. This is really good. I hum in approval, spoon still in my mouth.

"Prince Soma, what do you think?" Sebastian asks after a pause.

All eyes turn to Soma.

He frowns and shakes his head. "Nah. The smell is good, but the flavor is a whole other thing."

Sebastian rests a finger to his chin, thoughtful. "Is that so...then I'll try another combination that will give the same smell but a different flavor."

"It'd be good if I knew how Agni cooked his curry...even just a little. I really know nothing," Soma admits. "Even though I really want to help, I just can't! In the end, I'll have to rely on you! I'm such a..."

He stops when Sebastian places a hand on his shoulder. I blink. It's rare—almost jarring—to see him offer such a human gesture.

"Please do not blame yourself," Sebastian says, eyes closed, smiling wide. "There is something even you can do."

I sweatdrop. That smile's pure performance. He's already scheming something.

Before he explains further, he urges us to eat. I finish my curry happily. Lau does the same. Ciel—unsurprisingly—keeps any thoughts to himself. I excuse myself once I'm full, rubbing my stomach as I make my way up the stairs. Ciel follows a moment later.

"Do you want to play a game?" he asks.

I shrug. I don't have anything better to do. "Sure, only if I can beat you this time."

"In your dreams." he smirks, following me to his study.

"That's harsh."

"I never said I was nice."

I snort softly as we reach the door. "You act like you aren't mean?"

He scowls as he steps past me into the room. "I believe your eyes are going bad."

I roll mine and shut the door behind us. He sits and pulls out a deck of cards while I sink into a padded chair across from him.

"Don't act like your mask doesn't wear down from time to time."

His hand halts mid-motion over the card deck he just set on the table between us.

"You...I don't expect anything better from you."

I lift a brow. "Oh? Here I thought you were going to start a mini argument with me. Yet, I receive a compliment."

He frowns, blue eye flashing. "I'm not that idiotic."

Crossing my legs, I settle deeper into the seat. "As long as you acknowledge it. I like when your mask is down."

Without a word, he splits the deck and hands me half—he's setting up a game of War.

"Too bad you'll ever see it fall then."

A shadow crosses my face. "You know, hiding the truth from others is sometimes not the smartest move. Take it from someone who knows quite a bit about that."

His gaze sharpens, eyes narrowing like he's peering straight through me. I shiver.

"I will do what I think is best. As for you…" He pauses, flips a card. Two of hearts. "I respect what you wish to hide. This is coming from someone who wishes to keep their secrets as well."

His words strike something in me. My fingers tighten on my half of the deck. I flip my card—a four of spades. I take his with quiet hands, winning the round.

"Feni…I can't even tell you about me. As much as I wish to, it's better not to drag anyone into the mess that is my life. Your father was the only one who knew who I really am, and he took that secret to his grave."

He draws again. Six of diamonds.

"…Was it that bad?"

I sigh, lips pressing into a tight line. "I wouldn't call it bad. Just…unfortunate. I know you've probably had Sebastian dig into my past and come back with nothing. Didn't he?"

His eye widens. The color drains from his face as he freezes.

"How did you…"

I smile softly, flipping my card. Five of hearts.

"I didn't. I just assumed."

He scoops my card up with a neutral expression. "I had to know if you were against me."

I nod slowly, though a pang hits me deep. That he once doubted me stings more than I'd like to admit. "Understandable. Though, I would think after raising you since birth, my loyalty would be the most absolute."

"I thought the same about Auntie, but we know how that turned out."

This time, I frown. "Can't argue there. Just know—I'm not a bad person, brother. My purpose in this world is still unclear to me…But I could never betray the people I consider family. This isn't lip service. It's the real deal."

He watches me closely. Then, just like that, his expression loosens. The tension around his eyes softens, and he sighs.

"I know that by now."

Relief ripples through me. I nod. "Good. Because if you didn't, I might've had to give you a couple of knuckle sandwiches." I grin.

He cracks the faintest smile. "Doesn't sound too bad. Sebastian's done worse."

I laugh for real this time. Despite the heaviness in the air, that small joke lifts something off my shoulders. This talk... cleared the fog between us. There's more understanding here now. Maybe even trust.

Smiling like a fool, we go back to the game, talking casually about little things.

"I'm still going to mother you," I say offhandedly.

A tick mark pulses on his temple. "Whatever."

0o0o0o0o

Lau eventually joins us in the study, and I end up playing a round of War against him too. I lost to Ciel at first, but I absolutely trounced Lau. It actually felt good for once—these past two days have been a stormcloud. I try not to think about him. I don't want that depression creeping back in.

No more letting Sebastian toy with my heart. No more giving in to feelings that can only lead to loss. He'll take Ciel away someday—and that alone makes any affection feel wrong. I won't let him mess with my head anymore.

I have to protect myself from that demon's influence.

"We should go check up on Soma." Ciel suggests later, casually.

"Sounds like a plan." I say, pushing to my feet.

We all walk down to the kitchen. Ciel strides up to the doorframe first and leans against it with a knowing smirk. Lau and I hang back behind his short frame, watching.

"How's it going?" Ciel asks, voice light.

Sebastian and Soma turn to face us. The three house servants linger in the background, looking thoroughly dazed.

"Young master." Sebastian acknowledges with his usual coolness.

We step fully into the kitchen, and I spot a bowl of curry on the counter. Curiosity gets the better of me. I dip a finger in to taste it—Ciel does the same.

"You too, my lady. You two shouldn't come down right now…"

"Three days until the contest," Ciel notes, licking the curry off his fingertip. His smirk sharpens. "It looks like you're researching very hard."

The air turns still as he and Sebastian lock eyes, a silent battle of wills. But it's Ciel who breaks away first, turning back toward the door. Before stepping out, he glances at us over his shoulder.

"Oh, by the way—for today's dessert I'd like to have Gateau Chocolat. Bring it to me later."

"…As you wish." Sebastian replies with a deep bow.

Ciel walks out, his expression darkly pleased.

Sebastian shifts his attention. "My lady," he begins, and I perk up at the familiar title. "I ask you to stay and help taste-test the food. It appears the servants are reaching their limits."

I glance toward them—they look like overfilled balloons. Even Soma seems woozy.

I sweatdrop. "Er…I don't see why not," I agree with a nervous chuckle.

Sebastian resumes cooking, preparing more curry and starting on the chocolate cake for Ciel. I linger near Bard, who sighs heavily beside me.

"I am totally stuffed," he groans, stretching out his arms. "With my tummy like this, I should go do some exercises."

"I'm gonna head to the garden. Come on, Prince!" Finnian chirps brightly.

"Um…" Soma murmurs, looking helpless.

"Oh! I want to come!" I add quickly.

"I'll continue my washing." Mey-Rin chimes in dutifully.

"Everyone," Sebastian says from the stove, not even turning around. Instantly, all attention shifts to him. "The next curry is ready to serve."

He smiles—but it's that terrifying closed-eye smile. The one that screams danger.

I pale. That smile is never a good sign.

"I can't take it anymore!" Bard wails.

"Digest it within ten minutes." Sebastian orders darkly.

He begins ladling out curry into bowls, handing them to each of us. We all sit down to eat. The curry's delicious—bursting with flavor—but like Soma said earlier, something still feels… incomplete.

Despite that, it's overwhelmingly rich.

Soon, groans fill the air. Everyone starts keeling over, their stomachs visibly bloated. The floor is littered with miserable servants, moaning like they've survived a food war. I laugh internally. Honestly, it's impressive.

Only Tanaka and I remain sitting upright. Legend.

Sebastian surveys the scene, lifting the pot with a contemplative frown.

"What exactly is there not enough of?" he wonders aloud, mostly to himself.

He moves to pour the cake batter into a pan and slips it into the oven. Then, wordlessly, he turns to tackle the mountain of dishes.

The others have already fled—some to the bathrooms, judging by how fast they bolted. I wince. It's like Thanksgiving dinner dialed up to eleven.

Now it's just the two of us in the kitchen.

The silence stretches, not tense exactly, but too quiet for comfort. Only the rhythmic sound of dishwater and clinking plates keeps the moment from going stale.

I debate whether or not to speak.

…

Eventually, I rise from my chair and make my way over to his side. He doesn't acknowledge me, save for a brief glance. He's washing dishes at a steady, methodical pace—one that doesn't falter even with me standing there.

He slides the wet plates onto the counter in front of me.

I pick up a towel and start drying them.

It's something. Not quite peace, not yet, but something close enough.

"So…" I start, wincing at myself internally. "What do you think is missing from the recipe?" I ask.

Sebastian's expression doesn't budge as he passes the dish into my hands. "Is that really what you wish to discuss?"

It hits like a slap—I flinch inwardly. Yeah. He's definitely still mad. Guilt creeps into my chest, dull and persistent. I clear my throat, trying to steady myself.

"Yes and no," I admit. "But I do want to fully apologize for my behavior back at the training dummy."

I set the dish down gently. He hands me the next one, smooth and calculated. "There is nothing to particularly apologize for," he states, then turns—his eyes lock with mine. "Unless I am missing something?" he adds, voice edged with meaning.

My breath hitches. My eyes widen. He set this up. He was waiting for me to bring it up. "I—"

He cuts me off, abruptly grabbing my chin. Not gently, either—his grip almost hurts. His face is close, irritated, intense.

"Do not lie to me again."

My heart lurches in my chest. "It's really nothing, Sebastian!"

He steps in, his body crowding mine, pressing me back into the counter. The edge digs into my hips. His gloved hand, damp from washing, is clammy against my skin, and I shudder—whether from nerves or something else, I don't know. My thoughts scatter under the pounding of my heart.

"Why must you continue to lie?" he asks, low and seething. "Whatever it is you are hiding, surely it can't be that bad. I thought we were friends, or so you called it. Don't friends tell each other things?"

He's not just cornering me physically. It's mental warfare, and he's already three moves ahead.

"Friends don't make fun of being a certain race! It's technically racism, is it not?" I blurt out. "Imagine me calling you an evil bastard!"

My head swims. I'm flustered—stupidly flustered. I'm rarely this close to him, and it's messing with my brain.

His eyes narrow. Then, to my complete surprise, he smirks. "Is that what was disturbing you so much?"

…What?

My brain stalls. Did he just—

He lets go of my chin, slowly. "The reason you got so upset that day. You didn't like how I kept name-calling you?"

I stare at him, brain doing gymnastics trying to keep up. "Well…yes. I mutter with a pout.

Okay, not a lie. But not the full truth either. The real reason? I like him more than I thought—and that is mortifying. If he believes it was about name-calling, fine. Let him.

He blinks at me, then suddenly makes a noise—"Pft"—and covers his mouth with his hand. Is he…laughing?

"Aah. That's adorable," he says.

Heat floods my cheeks. Did he just call me adorable? Sebastian? I try not to think about how soft his laugh sounded just then.

"S-Shut up!" I shout, mortified. I bury my face in my hands, cheeks burning. "I hate you."

He 'pfts' again, less restrained this time, and lowers his hand. His face is lit with genuine amusement, completely entertained.

He lifts his hand and pats the top of my head. "My apologies, my lady. I did not think it would offend you so much to the point of tears."

I swat his hand away, flustered beyond repair. "Words hurt, you asshole!"

He chuckles softly and shakes his head, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips. He steps back, returning to the sink. "Even though the words I speak are true, I will refrain from speaking about your kind in such a manner, if it pleases you."

"It doesn't change the fact that you only think of me as food though." I sigh, frowning.

That smirk fades. His face returns to that unreadable neutrality. He focuses on the dishes again, as if weighing something heavier than silverware.

"My lady," he says quietly, "every human is food no matter what relationship we have. You must accept this."

I look away, stomach twisting. His words sting, but I need them—to remind myself of what we are. "I suppose I have no choice."

He hands me another dish, this one slower than the others, almost hesitant. A quick side glance flickers my way, but I miss it.

"If it helps," he adds, "just know you are one of the humans I favor to some extent."

I blink, caught off guard. "Really?"

He nods, simple and sure. Then he reaches for another dish—one of the bowls from the snack my brother requested. He pauses, brows lifting slightly.

"This is…"

"What?"

His mouth tilts into a smirk—faint but purposeful. "I have figured out the body," he says, offering me the bowl.

"…Chocolate?" I eye it warily.

Without answering, he sets to work. He mixes up another batch of curry and melts down more of the Phantomhive chocolate. The scent hits instantly—rich, savory, with a subtle sweetness that makes my stomach flip.

Hours pass. When it's finally done, I taste it.

The first bite nearly sends me into heaven.

I keep going back for more, barely restraining myself until Sebastian stops me and insists I wait until tomorrow. It's late, after all. I pout, but obey, heading to bed with my heart—and stomach—full.

0o0o0o0o

The next day.

We gather in the dining room like always. I sit beside my brother, hands folded, eyes on the door. When Sebastian enters with the food cart, he looks smug. Confident. Like he knows he's about to destroy the competition.

"I have made the curry of God." he announces with a smirk.

"What did you just say? You made the curry of God?!" Soma gasps, stunned.

Sebastian lifts the lid slowly, theatrically. "It's just how I am to the core. Please have a taste…"

He serves it out, portion by portion. We all wait, watching Soma closely. He scoops up a bite with his fingers, tastes it—then stops.

Silence.

Then Sebastian speaks. "Does it please you?" he asks with a graceful bow.

Soma beams. "This is not Agni's curry. This is a curry that contains complicated flavors and spices like Indian curry. It also has a depth and fresh taste that only the British can make. This curry is worth competing with the curry of God. It's delicious, butler. But how did you do this over such a short time?"

Sebastian smiles, eyes closed, and produces a chocolate bar from his coat. "This is the answer."

"Tha… that is…" Soma starts.

"Chocolate!" the others shout in unison.

I sip my tea, smiling. Leave it to Sebastian—he's brilliant.

"Cocoa in chocolate was originally used as a spice which provided a special sweet flavor," he explains. "The cocoa, which has fat, milk, and sugar perfectly blended into chocolate, added the rich substance that the curry needed. Also, the Phantomhive company has the best chocolate made with a large dose of pure cocoa. To make the best curry, there isn't a more suitable ingredient."

He glances at Ciel with a sly grin. "I noticed this when I cleaned up the Gateau Chocolat the young master requested yesterday. So, you helped me out there, young master."

Ciel does not look amused. I try not to laugh.

"Amazing, Ciel! Your butler was able to make the God of curry in only one week!" Soma marvels.

I taste my curry with a satisfied hum—it melts on my tongue like magic. This might become my new favorite dish…

"It's too bad, but you can't beat them with this," Ciel says flatly. "To replicate is different from to win. You will probably just be on par with the curry of God. Isn't that so, Sebastian?"

Sebastian bows again, smiling with polite restraint. "Yes. As things are now it will be that way."

Lau leans in, intrigued. "That face tells me you have something planned, eh, butler?"

"Yes." Sebastian replies smoothly.

"It's no lie?" Ciel asks.

"Of course not. I don't ever tell lies," Sebastian says, flashing a smirk. "On my name as the butler for the Phantomhive family, our company will definitely be the one to take home the royal warrant."

I beam. He's got this. "I know you can do it, Sebastian!" I cheer with a thumbs up.

He bows to me now, his smile gentler. "Thank you for the courage, my lady…"

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.