December, 1888

The Undertaker offered Eleanor a plate filled with donuts.

Ever since the dame had agreed to have her blood regularly drawn, she asked that the Undertake provide her with something sweet to help her blood sugar levels afterward. When he asked what she'd like, she said donuts and so—

Eleanor happily accepted the plate, munching on one of the fried baked goodness. "Where do you get these?"

"Would you believe me if I said I made them myself?" the Undertaker inquired.

"I would, and then I'd ask if you would kindly share the recipe."

The Undertaker smiled. "Heh-heh-heh. You flatter me, little birdy."

Eleanor glanced back at the newspaper she had been reading. Snake took the paper from her so she could eat her donuts without causing it to get messy. The headlines for the past week had been all about attacks on "upper-class" citizens.

At the time, there were a lot of British settlers living in Britain's Indian colonies. The third or fourth child from upper-class families who couldn't afford to live luxuriously in England could instead live like aristocrats in India. Those who returned from India were called Anglo Indian; those who couldn't leave the lazy lifestyle due to the luxury they found in India were called Indian upstarts.

The attacks had been focused on them; spoiled nobles or wealthy brats who preyed upon the Indian colonies and returned to England.

Oddly, none of them had been killed.

If it were a hate crime, there surely would have been at least one death, but whoever was behind it acted too level-headed—only leaving it as humiliation by stripping them naked and hanging them upside down.

The target demographic implied it was an Indian avenging themselves on the fat pigs that wronged them, but the lack of violence felt too... clinical.

The motive didn't feel emotionally charged, which lead Eleanor to believe they were likely monetary or politically motivated.

Although there's always a chance it is an Indian taking revenge, but they do not want to go so far as to commit murder.

Eleanor had to remind herself that not everyone was okay to kill. She had to remind herself that there were a lot of people who were able to go about their day without knowing what it felt like to take a life.

Her lifestyle was an exception, not a standard.

It was hard. Even more so not to slip into apathy.

She had lost enough; she did not want to lose her humanity as well, so she reminded herself.

All lives are valued. Everyone is precious to someone. While she did not value those who were not close to her, they were dear to someone else.

Every life had meaning.

Can't forget that.

She would kill out of necessity, not out of insanity.

Eleanor finished the last of the donuts before she bade the Undertaker good day and promised to see him again for their comedy night later that month.

(✹)

Stepping out of the funeral parlor, Eleanor breathed in the crisp, cold air.

"Come here, Goethe," Eleanor said, picking up the orange and white snake off the ground. He was the most recent acquisition to Snakes' collections, an albino tiger snake. Whenever Snake spoke using him, he had a childish and friendly disposition, giving Eleanor the impression he was still a baby snake. "It's too cold for you to be on the ground. Shouldn't they be bromating or something, Snake?"

"Most are," he said. "A couple didn't want to. 'I don't want to sleep,' said Goethe."

"Ah, I see," she said, slipping the snake under her jacket. The little thing squirmed its way under her clothes, seeking her body heat. It wasn't anything new. She had woken up several times with snakes wrapped around her in bed.

It was the norm for her life since accepting Snake as her butler.

"Stay put," she told Goethe, the little albino snake poking his head out from under her collar. "Else I might drop you in the snow."

"'No, no, no, that's too cold,' said Goethe," Snake told her.

"Mm-hmm." Eleanor stretched her arms. "Ah, it's a lovely morning. We weren't able to see Ciel yesterday when he came to London, so let's go now."

"As you wish, my lady."

(✹)

Ciel Phantomhive was having an okay day.

It couldn't have been a good day because he woke up in London and not in his countryside manor. He loathed staying in the city; hated the noise, the crowd, the people—nearly everything. He didn't understand how anyone could thrive in a place where people were packed together like rats.

At least the sewer system was finished. Ciel could not imagine having to live in London just a decade ago before London had a sewer system.

But it wasn't a terrible day because if he wrapped up his business early enough he could spend the rest of his visit with Elly.

He reckoned he only had a few more days of labor to complete his work on his company, and as for his other job...

The main reason Ciel had to stay in London was because the Queen had assigned him a new case: to stop the serial assaults on the upper class citizens of London.

What made those assaults stand above the rest was that the assaulter repeatedly left a note at the scene—a signature.

It could be interpreted as a taunt to the Scotland Yard for not catching the perpetrator... or a way to apologize.

Ciel examined the latest crime scene that day with Sebastian, unimpressed by what he found.

'Little more than elevated schoolyard bullying,' Ciel thought. Rapes, murders, human trafficking, and cults running amok but this is what the queen wanted to be stopped. Some nobles and rich merchants being hung upside down naked.

Not that Ciel would voice those thoughts. He was her guard dog. He would bark when told, fetch when asked, and hunt when commanded.

That was his duty as a Phantomhive. His family's honor depended on his success and loyalty to Her Majesty.

The latest crime scene was on a popular shopping street. The victims were naked and hang upside, unconscious. Their faces were flushed red—a combination of the blood rushing to them and the shame they likely felt—as each of them squeezed their eyes shut to avoid looking at the surrounding passersby.

"This fellow is the child of craziness and laziness. England is the blasphemous country that has taken all and forced on us, in arrogant ways, its rotten culture. Retribution should befall the fools of the country that the hellcat rules," angrily read Arthur Randall, Police Commissioner of the Scotland Yard.

What he read from was one of the many notes attached to the hanging victims. The man was plainly furious, crumpling the note in his rage.

"This is the twentieth one," he snapped. He whipped his head around to glare at a young man with short auburn hair and deep blue eyes. "You still can't catch this criminal, Abberline?!"

"I—I apologize, Sir Arthur."

"So all the victims had just come home from India, then?" asked Ciel, unminding of Arthur's glower. He reached forward and plucked the note from Arthur's hands. "No one's died yet. The child of craziness and laziness? Hm. He does have a way with words. I agree our country would be improved if all these nouveaux riches fresh back from India disappeared. Still, this mark..."

Ciel's eyes narrowed as he peered at a drawing at the bottom of the note. It was a long line with an upside-down D drawn underneath it. Ciel could only infer it had some kind of significance to Indian culture, but he wasn't familiar enough with that culture to immediately identify what it was and what it meant.

Arthur took back the note. "He's mocking the Queen and all Englishmen! He must be Indian."

'Most Indians who come here illegally hole up in the criminal neighborhoods of East End. The Yard still hasn't learned their exact number or their route, which is likely why I was called in.'

Ciel turned away. "Let's go, Sebastian."

"Yes, young master."

(✹)

East End was a notorious area in London known for its deep poverty, overcrowding, and associated social problems. There had been heavy talks of reformation in the court, but that was only talk for now.

Ciel walked slowly through the street, assessing the huddled bodies of the destitute people. His gaze settled on a girl with pale brown hair, sitting limply against one of the brick buildings.

As he watching, a man in ragged clothes came up and bumped into Ciel.

"Ow!" the man howled, clutching his arm. "You've hurt me, you've hurt me!"

The man wailed, dramatically feigning injury. A crowd began to form around Ciel, Sebastian, and the whimpering man.

"That's awful!"

"He needs compensation for that!"

"How dare he?"

"Poor man."

Sebastian turned to address Ciel. "We've been caught by very cliché thugs. What ever shall we do, young master?"

"Hurry and get rid of them," dismissed Ciel, bored of the acting.

"You drag us here then discard us like trash," snapped the man on the ground. "You'll know what it's like to feel that kind of humiliation."

Ciel did not dignify that with a response.

"Wait," called out a bored voice. A young man dressed in finery approached the group, holding a crude drawing. "Have you seen an Indian who looks like this?"

"Who the hell are you? Stay out of this."

The young man frowned. "Are you dueling? Are you an Englishman noble?"

"And what if I am?" asked Ciel.

"Then I will side with my countrymen. Agni!"

"Yes?"

"Defeat them."

Ciel coldly assessed the man. "Are Indians the sort who blindly attack any British noble?"

The young man blinked. "Huh? Wait—did you guys attack this shorty for no reason?"

Shorty?

"Agni, I changed my mind. Switch sides."

"Yes."

(✹)

Eleanor did not need to knock when visiting Ciel, whether that be at his townhouse or countryside manor.

Snake always opened the door for her without hesitation.

Eleanor stepped inside Ciel's townhouse to find an odd scene.

Her dear friend had an exhausted expression on his face: his only visible peacock blue eye stared vacantly into space, his brow furrowed ever so slightly, his lips tugged down into a sharper frown than usual, and his normally neatly combed black hair was askew.

Standing next to him was a tall, dark-skinned man with a very handsome face. The kind of handsome face that made Eleanor almost do a double-take. She had met some absurdly pretty people in her life. The world she was born into had some lovely smiles to hide its wickedness.

It really did seem like everyone in Ciel's life belonged on a runway.

Well.

Except her, of course.

It could not have been made even more obvious when standing next to them. Sebastian with his demonically beautiful face, Mey-Rin with her charming vibrant eyes, even Snake was a far cry from ugly.

Then there was Eleanor. The nicest thing she could say about her appearance was that she inherited unique lavender eyes, and she was in good shape due to her training.

Her scars and burns could not be considered attractive by any stretch of the imagination. Her face was average and forgettable. Her pale-brown hair was common and lackluster.

When people complimented her, it was directed toward her manner or family—never her appearance.

Eleanor's lavender gaze flickered to assess the elegant Indian man who was grinning beside Ciel. He was dressed in wealth and oozed self-confidence. He had not yet noticed her arrival, but Ciel certainly did.

Ciel tiredly rubbed at his forehead. "Elly... please."

"Please...?" Eleanor cocked her head. Sebastian stepped up from behind Ciel—Eleanor noticed that another handsome Indian man stood beside the demon.

"Prince Soma, this is my fiancée, Lady Eleanor Midford," Ciel introduced, grabbing Eleanor's arm and pulling her forward. "She is a capable dame, and would be a worthy escort for you and your aid."

Eleanor blinked. Prince? Wait escort—?'

"Your fiancée? That means the one you're supposed to be married to, right?" Soma grinned. "Nice to meet you! Please show us around London. We're looking for someone, you see."

"Um," said Eleanor. "Okay." She looked back at her friend with a raised eyebrow. "I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yes—thank you." Ciel sighed with relief.

"You're welcome?"

Soma made a move to grab Eleanor, but he was immediately slapped away by both Sebastian and Snake. Eleanor would have been impressed by Sebastian's speed—as he was literally behind Ciel before suddenly appearing in front of Eleanor—but he was, after all, a demon so super speed was expected. He blinked in surprise. "Ah? Was that a no-no?"

"I don't let many people touch me," said Eleanor. "Please refrain." She smiled. "Prince or not, if you do so again, you might lose a hand."

And out popped Goethe from underneath her clothes, hissing.

"... or maybe die from venom," she said, guessing what the snake wanted to say. Judging from Snake's firm nodding, she thought she was pretty spot on.

"Hmm." Soma frowned. He shrugged in response. "All right. Let's go, come on."

"Very well," agreed Eleanor, turning back around for Snake to open the front door for her.

Gracious. I didn't even have a chance to join Ciel for tea.

(✹)

"So who are you looking for?" Eleanor asked in the carriage. Soma and his attendant, a tall handsome man by the name of Agni, sat across Eleanor in the carriage as Snake swapped out the horses before they left. The ones they had hooked up that morning were tired and Eleanor wanted to give them a chance to rest, so she asked Snake to swap them with the ones Ciel and Sebastian used to ride into London the day before.

"This," Soma exclaimed, pulling out a crude drawing. "Mina! She was my nanny. Some British nobleman took her away."

Eleanor vaguely remembered something like that. "Ah... Um, that's a nice drawing, but what about getting another sketch?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ever heard of a sketch artist?" she asked. "I know a nice lady who's pretty good at drawing people from descriptions."

"I think my drawing is spot on."

"Even so," Eleanor said carefully, "it wouldn't hurt to have someone else take a crack at it, will it?"

Soma folded his arms across his chest, pouting. "Oh, all right."

"Good. After that, I'll show you guys my favorite pastry spot," she said with a polite smile.

"Excellent! I want to see all the best spots London has to offer," the prince said enthusiastically.

"Of course."

(✹)

With a better sketch of Mina at hand, Eleanor and Snake escorted Soma and Agni to a quaint shop for lunch. It was down one of the quieter streets, and it was normally empty. Eleanor loved to enjoy her afternoons there, as it was on the way to the knight training academy. Sometimes Ciel would indulge her while visiting and accompany her. Sometimes Edward would take her. There had been a few times she had even gone there with Charles.

Eleanor was on good terms with the man and woman who ran the shop. Eleanor tipped generously and in exchange, they always made sure her favorite table was ready for her weekday afternoons.

The shop was empty aside from them. Eleanor habitually strode to her favorite table, Soma right at her heels.

"Snake, would you please bring the usual?" Eleanor kindly asked.

Snake bowed shortly. "Yes, my lady."

"Bring?" Agni inquired.

"We place the orders at the front," Snake explained.

"I will accompany you then," said Agni. "Wait for me, my prince."

Soma waved his hand dismissively, taking a seat at the table across from Eleanor.

"Why are you chasing after her anyway?" Eleanor asked.

"She's my nanny," he said. "She was kidnapped."

"Why do you think she was kidnapped?" she asked.

"I mean—why else would she be gone?" Soma questioned, flustered.

"She eloped?" Eleanor dryly said.

Soma opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly shut it, perplexed. "She is indeed beautiful—the most beautiful woman in the palace. Anyone would fall in love with her. But she wouldn't just leave me."

Eleanor arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well—I mean—we were close!"

"What's her favorite color?"

"Uh," Soma spluttered. "Um..."

Eleanor gave him a disbelieving look. "You're close, but you don't know much about her, do you?"

"I—she—I—"

"Did you even think about the scenario of her not being kidnapped?" Eleanor shrewdly asked.

"That..." Soma's shoulders sagged. "She... she wouldn't leave me..."

"If you say so."

"She—she has to come back with me," he continued, more so to himself than to Eleanor.

Humoring him, however, Eleanor said, "And why is that?"

"That palace... it's empty," he said. "I hate the silence. Without Mina, there's nothing but silence there."

"That seems more like a you problem than a her problem," she said. "You've got two perfectly fine legs and a working brain, don't you? What's to stop you from going out, meeting new people, and making friends?"

His eyes were wide.

"We have returned," said Agni with the plate of food and a smile on his face. Snake was beside him, carrying the drinks. "Thank you for your patience."

(✹)

Eleanor gave Soma and Agni a grand tour of London. She took him to a museum, Big Ben, Tower Bridge, Trafalgar Square, even Nelson's Columns. Soma and Agni took everything in with interested eyes—Agni more so than Soma—and enthusiastically asked many questions.

Soma behaved more like a child than an adult who had undergone royal education.

'That could just be my own misconception, though,' Eleanor thought. She had to admit that her knowledge on how Indian royalty was raised was skim at best. She would guess it was similar to other royal families, but maybe not. She certainly couldn't imagine any of the princes and princesses of England traveling anywhere without armed escorts and heavy supervision. From the first prince, Albert Edward, to the youngest princess, Beatrice, each member of the royal family was heavily guarded and sternly educated.

Eleanor had the honor of meeting Princess Helena at her fortieth birthday party. Of Queen Victoria's children, Princess Helena was the most active in royal engagements. She was the founding president of the Royal School of Needlework, president of the Workhouse Infirmary Nursing Association, and Royal British Nurses' Association. She had a keen interest in pushing for equality and was one of the few high-ranking women in England to personally—and sincerely—congratulate Eleanor on her knighthood.

Eleanor could not imagine Princess Helena and Prince Soma having the same kind of education. Soma was a bundle of energy, childish kindness, and warmth, whereas Helena was a cool cat, oozing grace and hidden smiles alongside her claws.

She was also one of the few people who could go to head with her mother and come out unscathed.

Well. Now.

In the past, Helena fancied a German librarian twelve years her senior when she was fourteen. Victoria banished the librarian and married Helena off to Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein.

Certainly didn't stop Helena from finding another German to entertain her and her husband.

Not that anyone said that out loud, ever.

Pretty German girl, though. Eleanor had caught a glimpse of the woman at Helena's birthday party. She and Helena were both forty, yet they did not look a day older than thirty. Both were gorgeous, full of life, and had a way of drawing attention.

Soma had that in common. Wherever he went, Eleanor found it hard not to watch him with a smile on her face. He had the kind of arrogance only a child would have, but it was endearing on him. He had a darling twinkle in his eyes and a beguiling manner of speaking.

A different upbringing from Princess Helena, but Eleanor could still easily picture Prince Soma attending one of Helena's parties and dazzling the woman.

Maybe if he's still in London during the next Season I'll invite him along to Helena's FireFly Soirée.

At the very least, it'd be amusing.

When the sun had set, Eleanor and Ciel's guests enjoyed a dazzling dinner at one of London's finer restaurants, and then she escorted them back to Ciel's townhouse.

While Agni and Snake brought the carriage over to them, Soma admired the night sky.

"Eleanor," Soma said.

"Yes?"

"Would you be my friend?"

Eleanor smiled faintly. "I see no reason not to."

As soon as their attendants arrived with the carriage, Soma awarded Eleanor with a smile that would charm the sun.

Sebastian greeted them at the door, smiling in amusement. "A very good evening to you. My lady, will you be staying the night?"

"Might as well," Eleanor said tiredly. Her butt was already aching from being in the carriage so often. "Snake, would you please draw me a bath? I'll go say hi to Ciel."

"Right away my lady," said Snake.

"I'll say hi, too," Soma chirped, following right behind Eleanor.

Eleanor bit her bottom lip to keep from rejecting the prince. She did not think Ciel would be overly happy at the prince's sudden intrusion upon his office, but at the end of the day, Soma was still a prince. Eleanor was a knight and noble daughter, her title was not strong enough to outright dissuade a prince.

Soma did not strike her as someone who would be easily offended—she felt like she could risk being rude to him—yet she could not bring herself to go against her upbringing. She had spent too many years in etiquette classes. Furthermore, Soma had endeared himself upon her. She'd have as easy of a time as saying no to him as she would any other happy child.

Besides, perhaps the two needed to talk?

There had to be a reason Soma was staying with Ciel, after all. Maybe they were budding friends.

Pfft.

Eleanor climbed the steps up to Ciel's office, knocking once. "Ciel?"

"Come in, Elly."

Eleanor stepped in to the office, Soma popping in right behind her and exclaiming, "Hi, Ciel!"

Ciel's briefly furrowed his brows. The discomfort only revealed itself for a moment before he smoothed his expression to that of polite detachment. "Good evening, Soma. Eleanor."

Eleanor's lips twitched at how he switched to his formal attitude as soon as he realized Eleanor was not alone. "Only popping in to say hello, Ciel. I'll be staying the night."

"Do as you please," he said.

"Come visit me before you go to bed," she said with a smile. Then turning to Soma she nodded curtly. "Good night, Prince Soma."

"Night night," he said. "Ciel, is my room ready? I did save you from those brutes, you know. You owe me."

Eleanor closed the door to the office as she heard Ciel stand up from his desk.

(✹)

"You have a good match," Soma told Ciel as soon as Eleanor left.

"I know," Ciel said flatly, grabbing his cane. "I'll escort you to your room."

"I am honored to have seen such a side of her today," Soma added with a smile.

Ciel paused. "What?"

"She is a very wise young lady," he went on, nodding firmly. "I wouldn't mind accepting her as one of my own wives—ah, but not to worry, I won't try to steal her from you. I know it'd be no contest."

Ciel tapped his cane on the ground. "Uh-huh."

"Still," Soma carried on brightly, "she's made me rethink some things. She deserves a gift as thank you. What should I get her?"

"Nothing," said Ciel. "There is nothing you can offer her that she couldn't get for herself."

"Oh? That's a shame."

"Mn." Ciel tapped his cane again. "Come along, prince."

(✹)

Snake sat at Eleanor's bedside.

Eleanor was dressed comfortably in her nightgown, a shawl draped over her shoulders. One lamp was lit at the end table. She was reading Charlotte Brontë's, Jane Eyre for the fifth time. She glanced over at her butler, smiling softly. "You do not need to wait up with me."

"What if you need me?" asked Snake.

"I'll be perfectly fine," Eleanor insisted. "You deserve some rest, Snake.

Snake shifted uneasily at his chair. "But—"

"Look," she said, pulling up her blanket to reveal Goethe curled in her lap. The snake did not move at all, sound asleep. "I've got company already. Get some rest."

Snake frowned. "... If you insist."

"I insist."

"Okay," he said reluctantly.

(✹)

Eleanor read her book for another hour until the door to her bedroom opened up and Ciel came in. He took a seat on her bed as she lowered her book to greet him with a smile. "Good evening Ciel."

"Good evening, Elly," said Ciel. "Was the trip fruitful?"

"It was interesting," she said. "How did you meet?"

"In East End. He's deluded himself into thinking he saved me from being attacked, and consequently I owe him room and board," dryly explained Ciel.

Eleanor giggled. "How unlike you to not put him in a hotel, prince or no."

"I've an instinct he might be related to the attacks," admitted Ciel. "Sebastian will be monitoring both of them tonight."

"Ah, I see," Eleanor said. "I did not have much chance to interact with the prince's attendant, but I do not believe the prince is directly involved."

"What makes you say that?"

"He is a charming child."

"Child? He's older than you."

"Physically, perhaps. But he behaves so much like a toddler in a toy shop I can't think of him as anything other than a child."

Ciel let out an acknowledging noise, his stoic face unreadable. Eleanor had a fondness for reading by candlelight, and so her bedroom was dimly lit save for the lone candle at her nightstand. Ciel's only visible eye moved to look at the flickering flame.

Her friend was pensively quiet for a long moment until he quietly asked, "And me?"

"Mn?"

"Do you see me as a child?" he asked wryly.

Eleanor snorted derisively. "How could I possibly view you as something as cute as that? You're constantly scowling like a grumpy old man."

His lips twitched.

Eleanor reached forward to affectionately brush one of his bangs. "Do you have much work left to do?"

"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow," he admitted."

"In that case... Care to stay the night?" Eleanor asked, patting the spot beside her.

Ciel sharply glared at her. "I'm not a little boy needing comfort, Elly."

"I did not say you were," she rebuked reproachfully. "Have you, perhaps, considered that maybe I want to be comforted by you?"

He stiffened, his face slowly turning a darker shade of red. He immediately got up from the bed, turning and storming out of the room.

Eleanor watched her friend leave, resisting the urge to sigh. Any other time after the year 2000 none of her friends would have any issues sleeping with her. One thing she really missed in her current life was the ease of physical affection.

There were already very few people Eleanor felt comfortable being touched by.

Even after her... experience... she still wished to receive affection. She wanted hugs, cuddles, and warmth beside her.

Eleanor closed her eyes, trying to stamp down her disappointment.

She had to consciously tell herself Ciel was not rejecting her because it was her—It was only because of his upbringing and his own trauma.

He didn't leave because he was repulsed by me, Eleanor told herself. My friend is not disgusted by me. My friend is not grossed out by me. My friend—

Eleanor bit hard on her bottom lip, uncomfortable with the tight sensation in her chest. She squeezed her book tightly, took a deep breath, and tried to return to reading. She knew if she went to sleep as upset as she was she'd only have a nightmare.

Minutes ticked by. She had been re-reading the same page, unable to process the words.

She sighed quietly. Maybe I should go for a walk?

Eleanor lowered her book, weighing between trying to sleep or getting up for a walk.

Before she could decide, the door to her room opened up again. Ciel entered, now dressed in his nightdress. Eleanor raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You are fortunate I indulge you," he said, climbing into bed beside her. "Only for tonight, Elly."

Eleanor could not resist beaming a smile at him. Her happiness radiated so brightly, Ciel found it impossible not to briefly—very briefly—smile back.

"Thank you, Ciel."

(✹)

Soma and Agni stayed at the Phantomhive townhouse for several more days. Eleanor visited them daily. She escorted the prince around London in search of his nanny. For six days nothing of note happened, but on the seventh day Eleanor came to visit the townhouse, she was surprised to learn that Agni was no longer there.

Eleanor joined Ciel, Lau, and Sebastian for tea early in the morning while Soma slept in. She supposed he must have had a rough night if he lost his attendant.

Lau's presence was a surprise, but nothing out of the norm. The man was exceptionally helpful in ruling the underworld and had proven to be steadfastly loyal to the Phantomhive family. He must have visited last night to discuss something with Ciel, but ended up witnessing whatever happened with Agni. That was the only explanation Eleanor could think of for why he was invited to join her and Ciel for tea instead of being chased out.

"The prince's attendant is working with Lord Harold West," explained Ciel as he blew on his tea.

Harold West handled a range of imported goods from India. He was expanding into the restaurant business and owned several cafés and coffeehouses. Eleanor actually quite liked one of them.

"The owner of the Blue Butterfly on Oxford Street?" Eleanor exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "I actually was interested in purchasing that store."

"Really?" asked Ciel. "I didn't know you were interested in the food industry."

"It's hard to picture the fearsome dame visiting such a dainty shop," observed Lau with a smile. "But it's certainly a nice picture to imagine."

Eleanor briefly smiled. "There have been some dessert recipes I've wanted to have sold in London. The Blue Butterfly is gorgeous. I love the decor, and the servers there are very charming."

"I see," said Ciel.

Snake poured Eleanor a fresh cup of tea.

Eleanor thanked her butler, taking a sip of the spicy orange flavor. "Mn. So Agni was meeting with West?"

"Correct. It appears he's hoping to use Agni to intimidate his competition, as well as win the Royal Warrant."

The Royal Warrant was a fun little thing the royal family came up with to encourage cooking competition and innovation. Restaurants or food businesses that had a Royal Warrant on their signboard had the royal family's guarantee of quality. The most common way to obtain one was through a cooking competition, but that was not the exclusive way.

Eleanor, for example, could request one if she owned a food business. One of the queen's representatives would be sent out to judge Eleanor's menu and food, and if she passed she would receive the warrant.

The option to request such a thing was exclusive to high-ranking nobility, or those who directly had favor with the crown.

"How stupid," she murmured quietly into her tea. The Royal Warrant would only generate a moderate about of publicity and could be withdrawn if food critics disliked the restaurant too vehemently, or if too many nobles protested. Obtaining the warrant was easy—keeping it was a pain in the neck.

It would be more cost-effective to market the food to the masses and pay food critics to praise it.

Ciel drank his tea. "Exceedingly so. West has something on Agni."

"Related to the missing nanny?"

"Most likely."

"How should we proceed?"

"Elly you should already know the answer to that," said Ciel, setting down his tea and smirking. "We win."

(✹)

By "winning" Ciel meant winning the Royal Warrant himself.

This part Eleanor vaguely remembered. Everything leading up to the curry competition she had forgotten, but she distinctly remembered two things about the curry competition.

One: Sebastian made some delicious curry buns with chocolate.

Two: There was a blue lobster.

Eleanor did not know what the blue lobster was or how it related, she only remembered seeing an image of a blue lobster.

In order to win the Royal Warrant, Sebastian began to practice making curry. To Eleanor's immense surprise, the demon was not able to come up with the winning curry right off the bat. In fact he actually tried to use curry powder.

Soma, who had volunteered to be the taste tester, was astonished.

As was Eleanor.

"You can't use curry powder to make curry," Eleanor admonished, dismayed to find something the demon was not perfect in. Wasn't he supposed to be good at everything?

"I've never seen that stuff used in India. Spices will decide the color and heat, but the most important thing is the flavor. The smell will fade away if you don't grind the spices. In my palace I have servants who are just for grinding spices," Soma declared, pushing away Sebastian's plate of curry.

Sebastian pursed his lips. "So, it's out of the question to use such a thing like curry powder that has already ground the spices."

"What's more, Agni's curry has different tastes and colors depending on the ingredients. I think he combines them to match well with the main focus of the dish," added Soma.

"Then we need to collect fresh spices of high quality," mused Ciel. "West has the advantage there. He controls the distribution with his own company."

"We don't have much time. If we don't instantly contact a trading company..." Sebastian glanced to Lau at the same time Eleanor and Ciel did.

Lau was, after all, officially the president of a trading company.

"Aha," chuckled Lau uneasily.

(✹)

The following two days Sebastian was constantly in the kitchen. The townhouse reeked of spices, so much that all the windows had to be cracked open despite it being December. Ciel was holed up in his study most of the time—it had a fireplace—in order to stay warm while the townhouse was ventilated.

Eleanor watched Sebastian cook a variety of different things, a little concerned she was misremembering something about the competition.

He used chocolate right? And a bun?

She hadn't seen Sebastian do anything of the sort.

Eleanor hadn't made curry often before—and certainly not with chocolate—but she knew the basics.

And, to be honest, she was concerned she wouldn't have a chance to eat that fabled curry bun she had drooled over in the anime if she didn't step in. Things weren't going as expected—she was still flabbergasted Sebastian didn't immediately ace the assignment—so she figured it wouldn't hurt to help things along.

(Okay—she just really wanted to try that curry she had seen in the anime. If she was stuck in this dismal world, she deserved to try some of that curry.)

In the afternoon she changed into casual clothes—a long-sleeved dual-toned, loose dress—and tied her hair in a relaxed ponytail with a ribbon. She entered the kitchen—everyone else was ordered to give it wide berth so the demon could move at his normal speed—which elicited a curious look from Sebastian.

The demon did not pause in his quick movements. He did not need to hide his nature nor superhuman speed from Eleanor.

"May I assist my lady?" he offered.

"No thank you. I'll be taking up a small corner in the kitchen, however," she said. "Please ignore me."

"As you wish," he obliged.

Eleanor had never been a professional chef. After she had starved to death in one of her lives, however, she made it a point to memorize the fundamentals of cooking and foraging. She wasn't wholly certain how she was going to make chocolate work with curry, but she'd taste and add things as she went along.

The only part she was confident in making was the bun itself.

Two hours later she had three fried curry buns.

Tasting one herself she was pretty happy with the results.

"Sebastian?" Eleanor asked, holding out the bun. "Think you could improve upon this?"

The demon leaned over to take a bite. "If that is your order, my lady."

"I'd like to see it," she said with a smile.

"Where did you get the idea for a bun?" the demon inquired.

"Not my idea. Not sure who came up with it, but I think it's popular in Japan," she said, squinting her eyes as she tried to remember. In one of her lives, she had been reborn in Japan. She remembered eating a lot of curry bread from convenience stores.

I miss melon bread.

She missed a lot of foods and items from the 2000s. She missed the internet. She missed the music. She missed the smell of public libraries. She missed burgers, youtiao, melon bread...

She hoped in her next life she'd be reborn in an era of technological convenience.

She'd weep if she had to live in feudal times.

At least they had working toilets here.

"I look forward to what you come up with," she said. "I wrote down the recipe, please perfect it."

"As you wish, my lady," said Sebastian with a bow.

(✹)

The day of the competition, the group headed to the designated palace. Stepping out of the carriage Ciel offered his arm to Eleanor, and she accepted it without much thought. Snake and Sebastian wore right behind them, with Soma and the rest of the Phantomhive servants trailing behind.

Ciel and Eleanor met up with Lau and Ran-Mao inside the exhibition palace.

"So the prince's butler is really serious?" Lau asked, moving to walk on Ciel's other side with Ran-Mao silently behind him.

"He betrayed his beloved master, of course he is serious," Ciel snorted derisively. "It's safe to assume that this is all for the prince. He was probably told that once the plan is complete, the girl will be returned to them."

"If so it sounds like a lie to me," Lau remarked.

"Well... should his plan succeed, letting Agni go after obtaining the royal warrant would possibly mean the leaking of his deeds. If I was West..."

"You would have him killed?" Lau guessed.

"You really think it would be worth killing someone over?" Ciel sighed, while Eleanor went heh.

"Meeh~ I'd do it if it was me," Lau said.

"Oh my!" exclaimed an overly saccharine voice. "If it isn't Earl Phantomhive and Lady Midford!"

The group paused as a young man rapidly approached them.

"Lord West," Ciel coolly greeted.

Lord West beamed. "Long time no see! I haven't seen you since the unveiling of Funtom. It's an honor to meet you both again. You two look positively made for each other, even your outfits match. What brand are you wearing?"

"Nina Hopkins," Eleanor answered. "She's brilliant."

"My! I'll be sure to visit her myself," Lord West said brightly, tone full of fall politeness. "Come to think of it, isn't your group competing in this contest?"

"Yeah, I'm considering expanding my business into the food industry," Ciel smoothly replied.

"I was rather surprised to learn you would enter. Did you go on a hunt for a talented chef? My company cannot lose! We have hired a curry specialist."

"That so," Ciel said flatly.

Lord West glanced around, then bent down to whisper to Eleanor and Ciel. "Between you and I some spies broke into my home. It was terrible. One of my Galle Lamps was broken along with a chess set I got from overseas. It scares me to even think about. Luckily the secrets of the curry were kept safe. I get shivers knowing that the criminal may even be here." Lord West started to rub his hands together as he leaned back. "Enough about that, I heard that the Queen might be attending this curry show?"

Ciel stoically stared at the lord. "And?"

"Well since King Albert passed away Her Majesty doesn't appear in public so often. I'd like her to taste the curry we are so proud of in front of the audience before I receive the Royal Warrant. Oh, this chat has gone on a bit long. I will see you later."

As he headed away, Ciel muttered, "Before you receive the warrant, eh?"

"He really is certain that he will win," said Sebastian.

"I can't wait to see his face when he realizes he lost," mused Ciel. "Or your face if you lose, Sebastian."

"Yes, my lord. Then I will head to the competitor's room and wait."

(✹)

The competition was held in the center of the exhibition palace. It was a wide, open space with window walls and a sky-dome. Despite it being inside, it was still rather chilly—it was December—and Eleanor found herself wishing she had a heavier cloak on.

Eleanor sneezed.

"Tt." Ciel pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at her face.

"Wha—"

"You had snot hanging."

"I did not."

"Not anymore," he said, putting the handkerchief back. "If you're cold, you should have worn more layers."

"That's hindsight," she retorted.

"What happened to your scarves?"

"Oh, I gave them to the snakes," she said. "They said they liked my smell and wanted to hibernate in them."

Ciel gave her a look of disbelief. "And you haven't bought more?"

"I've been busy."

"Ugh. We're going shopping after this."

"I—"

"No excuses. Idiot," he muttered crossly.

Before Eleanor could retort, the announcer began to address the audience saying the competition had begun.

Things went predictably well. Eleanor was amused to spot the blue lobster was an ingredient Agni used, and the crowd—like in the anime (and maybe manga?) were surprised to see Sebastian add chocolate to the curry mixture.

The entire exhibition hall smelled of a delicious symphony of curry.

The judges loved Agni's dish and were astounded by the Funtom's curry bun.

Eleanor and Ciel were a touch annoyed to find that Viscount Aleister Chamber was among the judges—the man had bribed his way out of escaping judgment—the viscount gave the Funtom's curry bun the most compliments. While the judges debilitated, the rest were free to try the buns.

Eleanor was most eager to finally try the Funtom chocolate curry bun. She practically pulled Ciel over to the table to grab one, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"Are you really that excited over some food?" Ciel asked with reproach.

"I deserve this," she whispered, savoring the smell of freshly fried dough.

"You deserve more than some oiled bread," he sniffed disdainfully.

Eleanor took the first bite.

She closed her eyes.

Heaven.

A demon had no right in creating something so otherworldly good.

I need to memorize this recipe for every life, she told herself. She refused to never not know how to make such amazing curry buns.

"I'm pleased to have brought such a smile to my lady's face," said Sebastian as he returned to the group, a dark smile on his face.

"Please tell me this recipe can be replicated by human hands," she said.

"But of course!"

"You have made my day," said Eleanor, savoring each bite of the bun. She noticed Snake was watching her eat intently. She chuckled and held out the rest of her bun to him. "Eat."

Snake hesitantly took the rest of the bun, nibbling on it slowly at first. Then his entire face lit up after the first bite and he began to eat with renewed eagerness.

So cute, thought Eleanor. What a good boy.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," called out the announcer. He held up a trophy as he loudly declared, "After much discussion... the winner of this curry show is... Harold West Company and Funtom Company! A tie!"

A whip snapped out the trophy out of the announcer's hands, pulling it to an attendant dressed in white.

Eleanor recognized the man as one of Charles' coworkers, John Brown. John, as with all of the queen's secretaries/attendants, was dressed in a white uniform consisting of a double-breasted, button-down trench coat, with a medallion attached to the left breast. John Brown always wore dark-tinted glasses and had short, shaggy silver hair. He was normally composed and impassive and was considered to be one of Queen Victoria's most staunchly loyal servant.

Eleanor had not many encounters with John—he did not attend the same academy as Charles prior to becoming a government official—but she was always left with a positive impression of him.

"The victor—" John was abruptly hit atop the head by a white stallion.

HOW IS HE ALIVE?! Eleanor's eyes were wide as the horse literally stepped on his head and he did not even bleed.

She gaped at the man.

He's not human. Anime logic can only excuse so much, right? That man is not human. That is—something?

He had white hair—

Is he an angel? What if the reason the anime had an angel by the queen's side, was because the author said that was one of the twists she had planned?

She was so preoccupied staring at the man that it took her a moment to recognize the woman riding the horse.

She and Ciel gasped, both rushing forward.

"Your Majesty!" Ciel exclaimed, rushing forward.

Eleanor bowed before her, as trained to do so by her father. She had only met with her majesty a handful of times—always with either Ciel or her father—so she could spot her easily enough.

Queen Victoria, elderly but still regal, and forever dressed in black to mourn her husband, smiled serenely. "Hello."

She was the beloved queen who was behind one of the most brilliant times of Great Britain's history. Not only was she the political power behind the idea of expanding the territories of Great Britain, allowing it to become The Empire where the sun never sets she also made her mark in the fields of fashion at balls and other events. She was the one leading the trends and had immense popularity amongst the people. To this day, she was still deeply in love with her deceased husband, King Albert.

In fact, whenever she had fits of depression, her attendants would use a King Albert puppet to role-play as her deceased husband to cheer her up.

Eleanor, per knight protocol, offered her hand to assist her majesty down from her horse. As she did so, John got back up, brushed off the dirt—No blood? Is that the power of anime logic in this world or because he's not human?—and addressed the stunned audience, "I am done talking, but it seems the Queen has something to say."

Queen Victoria smiled kindly at Eleanor. "Thank you, dear." She raised her head to address the masses. "This curry show was indeed exciting. The fragrance permeating throughout the entire room reminds me of a time I had curry with Albert on White Island." Queen Victoria glanced at a pocket watch that contained a picture of her late husband. Upon seeing his picture, tears filled her eyes and she fell over in despair. "Oh Albeeeeeeeerrrrt..."

John, completely used to this, pulled out the King Albert puppet and mimicked his voice, "I want to eat this curry with you also! Please pull yourself together."

Lau whispered to Ciel and Eleanor, "Her Majesty seems quite the complex character."

"Don't," Eleanor warned.

"You'll lose a tongue, speaking like that," Ciel added.

Queen Victoria recomposed herself, wiping away the tears with a handkerchief. "As I received an invitation to be a judge in this contest, I have one vote, don't I?" She held out her hand and John placed the trophy inside it. "I have chosen someone."

She approached Sebastian, offering him the trophy. "Funtom Company's butler, Sebastian. This is for you."

"Wh-Why!?" Lord West exclaimed. "How can the curry we made lose to some doughnut stuffed with curry?!"

Victoria pointed at the crowd. "Please look over there. Do you see? Funtom's curry requires no utensils and can be consumed by anyone." Queen Victoria smiled warmly. "Yes, that is right, this is a method that takes even children into account. Everyone is happy, the rich, the poor, the adults, the children. Everyone is equal. This kind of idea is essential for Great Britain as it heads into the new century. I highly approve of Funtom Company's accounting for our future, the children. Thus the victor is the Funtom Company."

"I... lost?" Agni trailed off.

"Mr. Agni, wasn't it?" Queen Victoria smiled. "Your curry's flavor did not lose. It was also a curry I would like to enjoy at the white tower."

Agni lowered his head. "I'm not... worthy of such words."

West stumbled away, flushed and dizzy. "My plans... the Royal Warrant..."

"My lord!" an Indian woman exclaimed, rushing forward to the dazed Lord West.

"MINA?!" Soma shouted.

Mina, the woman, whirled around in surprise. "Prince Soma...?"

Soma staggered to her, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He ran forward, embracing her. "I finally found you, Mina! I've been looking for you! For a very long time! You must have been so worried when you were kidnapped to England. I finally, finally, finally found you. You don't have to worry anymore. Let's go home together."

Mina pulled away from the prince, first horrified and then enraged. "Are you some kind of idiot?"

"Eh?"

"Who the hell do you think you are, coming this far, just to get in my way again? Come home with you? Don't make me laugh. Who'd want to go back to a place like that? Sorry for not wanting to live my whole life bound to my social class," she fiercely scolded him.

"Then... you... wanted to... with West?"

"Of course. Even a child would understand which is better—a commoner living by on scraps, or a rich wife? And... I was so sick of looking after such a selfish master!"

"Ah..." Soma closed his eyes. "I see... Sorry."

Mina's eyes widened in surprise.

"We were that close and I didn't understand one bit of your feelings. I'm sorry for never thinning about being a bother and chasing you all the way to England. And... thanks for everything up until now." He brushed past her, now approaching the crying Agni who had fallen to his knees. "Up until now, I've always blamed other people. Being alone in the palace was my mother and father's fault. Mina disappearing was West's fault.

"But I was wrong. Even though I was gnawing at my parents' ankles, I did nothing but complain. There's no one who'd love a brat like that. But... you stayed by my side. Even when we were separated. I've given you nothing but trouble up until now. Will you stay by my side and still be my khana, Agni?"

Soma held out his hand to Agni, who accepted it with tears streaming down his face. "Yes, Ajha."

(✹)

A week later

Eleanor nibbled on her cookie. "And now there's an Indian prince and his servant living at the townhouse for what seems to be an indefinite future."

"My, my," tuttered the Undertaker. "You always have such fun adventures."

"You might have some of your own if you bothered to leave this place," she teased.

The Undertaker smiled that odd smile of his. "I prefer listening to you. You have a way with words, dear birdy."

She chuckled at that, setting down her plate of cookies. She glanced out the funeral parlor. Snake, always so faithful and strong, kept guard outside whenever she visited—except for comedy nights—so no one could risk hearing their... dangerous conversation.

Eleanor quietly asked, "My friend... have you... ever encountered someone like me?"

"A phoenix?" he asked.

Eleanor was reluctant to call herself such a mythical creature, but she couldn't deny the similarities with reincarnation. She nodded slowly. "You seem to immediately call me that, so I had been wondering..."

"You are the first one I have met," he said, and she could hear the notes of honesty in his voice. "But I will admit that your situation is something I have... often pondered. Life beyond."

"You're a reaper though, aren't you?" she asked. "Wouldn't you know all about that?"

"You overestimate how valued The Powers that Be think of us," he murmured. "Reapers are expendable."

"I'm sorry," she said.

The Undertaker shrugged. "I've no ill will in that regard. I'm no longer part of that organization, after all."

Eleanor smiled faintly. "That's right. You made a dashing escape, didn't you?"

He let out a wheezing chuckle. "That sounds so glamorous, like one of those storybook heroes."

"Aren't you?" she asked. "You're your own storybook hero."

He shook his head. "I should hope not—that's far too tiring a role."

"Come now, you expect me to believe you'd really choose an indirect role in your own story? After you went through all that trouble for your freedom?"

The Undertaker smiled at her. "I never said about being passive—only that the role of a hero is too tiring."

"Villain then?" she teased. "You are part of our little club, so I suppose it makes sense."

"I would have chosen that role if asked a year ago," he said.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "A year ago? Do you mean to say you've changed your mind since then?"

"Of course," he said. "I've found a different path to take, one that's already far more enjoyable."

Eleanor smiled at her companion. "I see. I wish you all the best on this path, then. If you need my assistance at all, you need only ask."

The Undertaker carefully reached forward and placed a hand atop hers. She reflexively stiffened, but she had gotten better about his touch. "You are far too kind for this world, little phoenix."

(✹)

Added character pictures to Wattpad chapters. 

Next up circus babes.

Answer: For spontaneous dancing in the rain I bet Yuji Itadori (Jujutsu) or Luke Pearce (Tears of Themis) would be a lot of fun. For something more formal I'd pick Earl Grey (Food Fantasy) or m'lady Merlin (7 Deadly Sins).

Question: If you were forced to compete in a food com petition (any category) and sincerely wanted to give it your best, what would you cook?

Reviews are love!