Never was there a day that went by where you didn't imagine life in a different sense than the one you had lived. You weren't one to play the fool- usually that was. However, more recently, you'd found yourself in a greater number of difficult situations than you'd have liked. Even so, you didn't let that stop you- usually that was. Usually. That'd become a term you hated. What was usual wasn't usual any longer.

Your long coat stroked the floor with its fur lining as you walked against the wind, toward the house that had sent you an enigmatic letter, one that your servant had opened against your wish, informing your father and your entire family that you'd been summoned to meet with a man of a higher station than you, one that was younger than you by three years. You didn't want to visit this prat's home, but you had no choice after your father made you.

To add insult to injury he made you go alone, without a coach to drive you the mile and a half walk uphill, that was, to the large estate that belonged to your potential future locality of either employment or forced labor to retrieve payment for your debts. You recalled reading somewhere that it had burned down some years ago, and had been rebuilt, almost rising from the ashes like a Phoenix. You breathed in and smelled the cottony tweed of your scarf against the crisp air of the midwinter morning, and pushed forward against the bitter winds. You were a fast walker, and this was the fastest you'd ever trekked in the city of London.

The snow continued to billow around you as you finally made your way past the gate of the large, stately home of this young nobleman you'd never laid eyes on before, one who knew about you. Too much about you for his own good you'd thought. You raised a heavily gloved hand and pulled down on the golden ring encircled by an ostentatious brass eagle, and rapped loudly against the rich mahogany doors. You heard a shuffling, and within a matter of seconds, the door's frost-laden lock clicked open and you were standing face to face with a man. It wasn't the one you'd expected, however.

"Hello, my lady. My master sent for you." The man checked his watch as he pulled it delicately from within his black waistcoat. "You're punctual. Five minutes early."

You smiled lightly and begrudingly muttered your thanks. He didn't show much emotion back, but he went ahead and extended his arm, beckoning you to enter the foyer of the home you assumed he served.

"My master will be down shortly to greet you. He's quite busy. Is there anything I can get you while you wait?" You shook your head politely, but clearly he didn't believe you. Thirsty and cold, you were bound to be bitter if you didn't get some form of satisfactory relief from the frozen feeling inside your chest.

"Would it be terribly rude to ask for a cup of tea?" Your voice came out from behind the many folds of your outfit. The man smiled and laughed lightly, you assumed from looking at you in such a state.

"Not at all, my lady. It would actually be my pleasure."

For some reason beyond your contemplation, you perked up when he said that, as you were half certain he emphasized 'pleasure' carefully.

"Thank you, um-"

"Sebastian Michaelis." He replied. "Head butler of the Phantomhive Manor."

"The only butler of the Phantomhive Manor." A youthful, yet powerful voice responded. Sebastian turned from you and almost instantaneously and placed a hand on his chest as he faced the person who spoke, as you stood on your toes to see him better.

He looked to be about twelve or thirteen, not much older, but he carried himself in a way that signified he was wise beyond his years in an intense way. He wore a blue suit with shorts down to his knees, along with an ornately tied bow at his neck. You saw the lights of the candelabra above you reflect off of the silver and sapphire ring he wore on his hand as he clutched the top of a black walking stick, with the face of another eagle on its silver head. He didn't seem altogether happy, but you noticed a silent sort of energy about him, a deeply underlying current of rigidity and emotion, a resilience to defeat, and a desire to achieve something, at any cost.

You hoped that cost didn't involve you. As he moved down to where you were standing awkwardly by the entryway, his butler, Sebastian, drifted to his side, his ebony shoes echoing off the high walls and ceiling as they clicked against the lapis-lined floors. You stood transfixed to where you were, but you were brought out of your trance-like state by a laugh, a low screech and a feminine yelp, following by masculine shouting, and what you perceived to be the shattering of multiple dishes.

"What was that-" you began to ask, hoping there wasn't some crisis about to happen, it sounded as though someone may have been injured. However, you were cut off from finalizing your inquiry by the young man before you extending his hand and interlocking it firmly in yours.

"Don't worry about that. It's just my incompetent servants. Come with me, we have business to attend to. Sebastian." He addressed his butler curtly. "Get the young lady her tea."

You weren't sure how he had heard your earlier request but you shrugged it off and credited the acoustics of the main hall to be the main factor therein. Sebastian nodded and paced away in the direction of the kitchen, as you still were shaking the hand of the fascinating young man before you.

"I don't believe I properly introduced myself. I'm Ciel." The man -or boy really- smiled courteously, and it seemed forced, rehearsed even. "Ciel Phantomhive. Welcome to my home."

You smiled back, and at once recognized with whom you were speaking. You mentally kicked yourself for not being cleverer before; the letter you received should have been enough. You knew about the Phantomhives, knew about Ciel's father, more so than not.

It hadn't been intentional, your father made sure your knowledge of his affairs was limited, but you knew about Vincent, knew the people he worked alongside, and what he was capable of. You looked at Ciel and noticed he was wearing an eyepatch, and wondered what for.

The silence between you lasted only a few moments, as the noise of footsteps again echoed through the grandiose room in which you stood. Within a matter of seconds, you were again speaking with the Phantomhive butler, as he handed you a steaming cup of tea that smelled like peppermint and honey. You thanked him and followed the younger man before you into a room lined with gold-leafed paint running up and down glistening light blue wallpaper, covered with little silver stars the size of marbles. He sat down at the head of a long oak table and motioned for you to sit at his right, Sebastian moved behind him, seemingly cautious, protecting him from something.

It couldn't be you, could it? You certainly posed no threat to him. Not that he knew of.

Ciel folded his hands together and motioned for his servant to light the candles in front of the two of you, as he jutted his hand backwards to direct Sebastian to retrieve something from a chest of drawers behind you. You swallowed hard and picked up your tea quickly, and to your great relief you didn't spill it all over yourself. You wondered what could be in the cabinet that would tie you to this young man's past, this twelve year old Earl who was richer and more successful than you'd ever become in your entire life.

"I wanted to ask you, [Y/N]," Ciel began, disregarding a proper introduction on your end -obviously, he knew your name. It was he who had sent you the letter- as Sebastian laid a tattered paper before him; you noticed a deep red wax stamp on it: the seal of your family: a lion surrounded by what looked like the sun, and the words "victory through war" spelled out in Latin. You didn't know what to think, but you were soon aware of why you were summoned to the Phantomhive Manor, and if you were doubtful of your father's secrets before, you were indignantly in the dark now.

"What do you know of a man named Aleistor Chamber?" Your eyes widened as you looked at a photo of a gentleman with long blonde hair, wearing a white suit, standing with another man's arm around his shoulder, staring back at you with the same eyes and hair as yours: your father, joyous and alive, swept up in the carnival of his younger days. They were both clearly happy about something as they laughed and carried on without a care in the world.

You looked at both of them, yet one caught your attention first. You faced Ciel, answering his query with a gesture. You pulled out the letter he gave you and handed it to him. "I didn't know my father knew him, that's for sure." You replied hotly.

"We didn't either. Until recently that is." He replied. Sebastian smirked, as Ciel's expression became more sinister. "Now," he began again, "wouldn't you like to know why we really called you here?"

You swallowed hard and gulped down the rest of your tea, not even fully noticing how it scorched your throat as it passed over your lips, and warmed you up instantly. You subconsciously wished you were back out in the cold winter winds. It had suddenly become hotter than hell in the Phantomhive Estate. You nodded in assent as Sebastian Michaelis' smile matched that of his master, his gaze making the situation all the more burningly pressing, the tension in the room almost tangible.

"As you wish," you replied meekly as the butler's crimson eyes seemed to bore through yours, almost violating you, burrowing their way into your soul itself. Ciel smiled and moved his hands behind his head, affirming your suspicions earlier: he wasn't one to lose.

Well, neither were you.
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A/N: Thanks again to BonnieandFoxy010203 requesting this story, and supporting my writing! If anyone has anything they'd like to see, don't hesitate to ask.