"Earl Phantomhive." I didn't know what to do, really. This boy - this young boy in front of me - he was heir to one of the most powerful estates in the British Empire. He had earned his own reputation as Queen Victoria's guard dog, and he commanded a vast network of informants and underlings. He made my paltry achievements look absolutely pathetic.
"Sit." He gestured to the chair front of him, "Please. Sebastian, leave us."
"Of course, Young Master. Do you wish for me to prepare refreshments?"
Earl Phantomhive's eye flickered to me and he quirked an eyebrow. "Tea?"
"That would be - um, lovely, thank you."
"You heard the woman, Sebastian."
"Yes, My Lord." Sebastian bowed and left the room, the door closing with a quiet click.
"How do you do that?" I blurted out, sitting down in the chair. "Oh, I'm sorry, Earl, that was - out of place." I felt like I was in trouble, like the Earl himself was my master. His presence was very strong, a no-nonsense attitude about him.
"Please, my name is Ciel." He pulled the chair behind the desk back and sat down in it, slumping against the back. He was smiling properly now; a warm, intelligent smile. "Rephrase the question."
"With - Sebastian. The demon. How do you get away with treating him that way?" I was amazed. I thought Sebastian would have ripped his head off, the way that Ciel was speaking to him.
Brief surprise flickered "Oh, him?" He chuckled. "I like to see how far I can push him, what I can get away with. He has quite a long fuse, but if the servants have been acting up he snaps in a delightfully explosive manner. Such patience has been tested with you." Oh, I had irritated the butler. "I decided to have a little fun - However, he cannot harm me if it is against my wishes."
"I understand," I answered, even though I had only partially registered. "Um..."
"Yes, the matter of the case. We have many details to discuss." Ciel pushed his hair back from his face, displaying the black eyepatch. "The first of which must be obvious."
"Please - enlighten me."
"You know of demons," he said simply, playing with the tips of a leather glove which he still wore. "How is this? And please, unless you have a fantastically detailed story, spare me lies. I do not have time for that sort of thing."
I shut my mouth. Opened it, and shut it again. Speaking about demons on the first date was not an intelligent move. Come now, Celeste, you may as well just admit it. "I was signed into a contract of my own."
"'Was'?" He enquired, fixing me with a slightly perplexed frown.
"The demon in question involved is now dead," I said, giving a small nod and looking down at my lap again. "The bargain is no longer active, and I still have my soul; however, it is, as your lapdog so eloquently put it, stained."
"Interesting. How did it die?"
"He."
"My apologies. How did he die? Demons are naturally rather robust creatures."
"He was murdered." I swallowed. "Two and a half years or so ago."
"I see. Would it be possible for you..." Ciel leaned forward, his fingers knotting together. He paused, plucked a pencil from the jar beside him, and clasped it between his hands before continuing, "To divulge the terms of this contract?" His voice was soft, and kind, his blue eye seeming to will me to speak to him. "I understand if you find this whole business too distressing to talk about."
"I..." I glanced up at him. "This sounds ridiculous."
"Please, I am sure that it does not. Do continue."
"I am a very foolish woman, My Lord. Dorian came to me in a period of weakness - unbeknownst to myself, I had summoned him. My brother and I - we were young, and starving to death. And not like those urchins on the streets - we were only a day from death's door, in the workhouse. Edward had tuberculosis. He was going to die. We needed help.
He gave us a home, Ciel - um. He gave us stability. A background. Money - oh, God, there was so much money - and Edward and I grew up in a paradise that we had never known. So many years. Dorian was originally a... a brother figure. But as I grew... my shape changed, I matured, and I began.... He was also -" I shut my mouth.
"I understand," Ciel replied, leaning forward and jumping on the trail that I left. "You were in a desperate position, and this demon offered you his service, his protection, and a mysterious 'inheritance', am I correct?"
I nodded enthusiastically. "He invented stories - and no one questioned anything, as long as we had the money. And when Dorian was taken away, so was that. Thus, my fall from grace."
"That explains why you are so well spoken for a woman of your class."
I was gearing myself up to be offended; however, I reminded myself that he was only stating the obvious. "Well, yes, you could say that."
"Moving onwards. What do you know of Undertaker? This man -"
"His true name is Adrian. Crevan, I believe." I paused. "My apologies for interrupting."
"Do continue."
"Adrian Crevan. And he did not wish to avail of my usual services - he just wanted to draw me, actually." I blinked, staring down at my hands. "And he had questions for me. He said he was interested in the occult. He knew of my past - he swore to speak of Dorian to no one. And I desperately needed the money, my Lord. I had no idea that it would lead to... murder."
"Oh, don't worry about that," he said cheerfully as he leaned back in his chair again; there was a short knock at the door. "The women whose deaths we are investigating were dispatched to the afterlife long before Undertaker had anything to do with you. So, he drew you without any clothes on?"
"Yes. And he asked me questions about Dorian, and my contract seal - along with the nature of my contract."
"I see. Sebastian, come in."
The man in black entered the room - I turned, craning my neck to peer at him. Sebastian held a tray laden with cakes and crockery, along with a steaming pot of hot water; the scent of everything together was intoxicating. I could feel my mouth watering just at the thought.
"Leave the tray on my desk and stand to one side. Don't bother serving anything."
"Yes, my Lord."
As he disappeared almost completely into the shadows of the bookcase, Ciel leaned forward, wrapping his fingers around the handle of the pot; he wore many rings, and his fingernails were painted glossy black.
"I believe," he said, speaking to us both now, "That I have deduced the reason of Celeste's involvement in this mess."
"And what is that?" Sebastian enquired smoothly, why I gracefully spat out "Why?"
"Undertaker - he wished to study the effect a Faustian Bargain has on its human host. I believe that he was not sketching you, but rather your seal, yes? Providing where that is requires your unrobing. The questions that he asked you, I imagine, would be of the relationship between the human host and the demon. He was looking for loopholes that he could exploit. Preparing for the eventuality that we would be assigned to this case." He appeared to be mildly impressed. "Clever."
"... how did you glean this information?"
"From what she told me. I'm intelligent, Sebastian, don't forget that." Ciel poured a measure of tea into each cup, passing one over to me. "Milk? Sugar?"
I splashed a little milk into my cup, and grabbed two sparkling lumps of the sweet stuff. "I promise you, I had no idea what he was doing. I just thought he was some crackpot that I could make money from - and he paid me a substantial amount." Most of which had gone on my shoes, I thought mournfully.
"You couldn't have known. Onwards." He held out a hand, looking bored, and Sebastian slipped him a leather folder which he placed on the desk, and removed several pictures from. Ciel took his time to spread them out in front of me - there were twenty one women, total.
"Tell me if you recognize any of these women."
I let my eyes flick over the unfamiliar faces, taking in every inch. I noticed the pictures were colour coded - red, blue, green and purple. Apart from one, who my eyes were pulled towards immediately.
"Only this one." I laid a finger down upon a woman whose portrait held a grey border. She had paper-straight brown locks and wide, light blue eyes, with a lovely smile. "She was in the parlour. Undertaker's parlour. She was kind. She offered me food..." Such kindness I was unaccustomed to.
"Charlotte Farrow. She died almost... let's see, I think it was seven years, now? A little quiet, polite. The few people in her social circle confirmed she had been to several events with Undertaker."
"They kissed," I said, in a very small voice; I remembered the tenderness with which he looked into her eyes, the soft whisper of "I love you," murmured quietly in her ear. I assumed that they were married. "What do you mean.... she died?"
"She passed away aged twenty-six. Influenza." Ciel crossed his arms over his chest. "We have very strong reason to believe that Undertaker was connected to the...'disappearances' of all of these women."
"You think they were murdered?"
"Yes, in a quest to rediscover the secret to resurrection. These women all possessed similar body types, and transfusable blood types; all similar to Charlotte Farrows. We believe that they were like.... practice rounds."
"Young Master, are you certain that it is wise to be sharing such... detailed information?" Sebastian said quietly.
"She is intelligent; perhaps she can remember something that might aide the investigation," Ciel said, sounding assured. "Besides, she won't be leaving."
"Wh-What do you mean by that, exactly?" I asked, completely shocked by his words.
The youthful lord turned in his chair to face me completely again; he had a bright smile on his face. "Don't make me contradict my previous statement. You cannot be so stupid as to assume that I would let you go, especially since you know about Sebastian."
"You can't hold me here! You have no right!"
"Actually, I think you will find that I have every right." He arched an inky eyebrow. "Especially since I'm almost one hundred percent certain that there's blood on those pretty little hands of yours."
I felt myself go cold. "It was self-defence."
"Murder is still illegal," Ciel said cheerfully. "And you irritate Sebastian. I'm keeping you."
"My Lord -"
"Ciel--!"
"Silence, both of you." He clapped his hands together once; he was grinning broadly now, obviously amused. "Besides, you could be of use to us yet. There may come a day where we have to be in three places at once.
For the moment, you are my cousin, who has come down from London North. If the servants or my fiancée asks you anything, you are to tell them that. Have a little fun with the details to your backing story; I'm sure you will come up with something quite interesting." Ciel slipped two black fingers into his pocket, and pulled out a watch, peering at it. "Sebastian, call Nina Hopkins first thing in her morning. Have her come fit this woman for a dress, she looks atrocious. And buy her some shoes, for God's sake."
"Yes, my Lord." The butler bowed, his expression completely iced over. Oh. Someone was not a happy bunny. With one final glance in his master's direction, Sebastian disappeared swiftly from the room.
"I don't understand - what are you doing?"
"We can't have you running around like that, it's bad for business," he said impatiently, rising suddenly from his seat. "I have no ideas of your capability as a servant - you're probably useless - but you have lived the life of a noble before, and will be able to act accordingly. It is obviously the best course of action. If it's loss of earnings you are worried about, don't worry. I shall have you working for me here, even if it isn't as a maid."
"You can't keep me here," I mumbled, feeling near tears.
"Like I said," Ciel replied, moving to replace volumes back in the bookshelf. He appeared to have some sort of secret smile on his face, like there was some sort of plan in his head. "I most certainly can."