The Last Song [Black Butler] [Kuroshitsuji]

CHAPTER I

We had chosen to bury him next to mother. It was what he would have wanted. Even alive, I knew he wanted to join her more than anything.

I tried to assure myself that that was the reason he placed a gun to his temple.

Walking, Rosemary trotted ahead to sit on the wooden bench overlooking the city of arched stones while I lingered, looking for a particular tombstone.

Her grave had a bouquet of white roses and daisies, relatively fresh. From what I remebered, they were her favorites. Which is why both me and my sister were named after flowers. She had loved their alluring fragrances and beautiful petals.

I hadn't known that Father visited her so often.

I ignored the stone perched next to hers, the new bed of dirt marring the emerald landscape.

Sighing, I shook my head of the thoughts and decisively walked forward.

♤ • ♡ • ◇ • ♧

Instead of leaving, Rosemary had taken to exploring the graveyard, peering at all the odd names enscribed on the old tombstones. Ordinarily, I would have cut this little adventure short long ago - with the weather crisp and my patience thinning - but it was pleasing to see her bouncing about when the mood has been so dark for the past few days.

I also needed some peace to think about what to do next.

I asked and asked myself what should I do? wielding the same answer again and again.

Nothing. I had absolutely no idea how to run a company, how to support a family, how to do anything!

Maybe I ought to just sell the company to Lord Burton. I'd be a fool to refuse his rather generous offer. And yet . . .

And yet it was dissapointing. Although the company board guaranteed me the deal was just, I was hesitant to accept something that could either allow us to continue to live prosperously or degrade into poverty. I had a chance, a slim one albeit, but a chance. My self ambition went beyond this bargain. To defy them all, prove them wrong only because they said I couldn't, lift my head higher. Not many women educated themselves in business - it was only literature if I were to be completely frank - and I wanted to be different. Wanted to make a name for myself. Wanted to prove that no, my face is not my only redeeming quality. A woman is so much more than a manor's ornamentation or an arm's accessory.

Or perphaps my thinking bordered on insanity. It's not as if anyone shared these views. Good god, to hear me speak one must think me loony -

Rosemary's laugh tinkled through the air as she continued to chat animately.

That's right. This isn't just about me anymore. Could I risk failure at my overconfidence? Surely if so many have failed endeavors at lucrative business then I -

Wait, who is she speaking to?

Whipping my head up, I could feel my blood ice in my veins.

"Get your hands off her!"

A man stood in front of Rosemary, a hand wrapped around her upper arm. With scruffy trousers, a sullied shirt, matted hair, and torn shoes, I knew he was no friendly visitor. The only ones invited to the funeral were nobles; besides, I'm sure Father wasn't acquainted with the likes of him.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had crossed through the graveyard in long strides and tugged my sister behind me.

"You will not speak nor lay hand on her!"