Chapter 1: The Lotus

She had the perfect life, in all aspects. But still the feeling of dissatisfaction haunted her. No matter what activities she immersed herself in, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing and that, perhaps, life was meant to be a bit more engaging. It was a bright spring day when this feeling came back to her. She was sitting at her window, knitting needles and yarn in her lap. She had been working on a new blanket for Ciel for most of the day, but as it came closer to completion, she found herself too tired of it to finish. Instead she looked out the window at the garden in the courtyard. The flowers had bloomed recently, and the yard which had looked so dreadfully stale in the winter finally started to look the way it should always look year-round. If only the beautiful colors and lovely scents could last that long... Rachel let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair. After a moment she decided that the blanket shall not be finished that day. She returned the yarn and needles back to their basket. With nothing left in the room to interest her, she decided to walk through the garden.

Spurge laurels, dwarf morning glories, and leather flowers, these were the flowers Rachel was sure to take extra time to admire. They were her favourites. However, on this particular day it seemed as though even these flowers couldn't hold her attention. She stopped for a moment as she noticed a cluster of dill flowers sprouting up from the earth. They were an ugly addition to the garden. Rachel made a mental note to instruct the gardener to remove them immediately. She pulled her irritated gaze from them and looked across the courtyard. Suddenly, she felt the strong desire to run through the tender green grass, dance in the midst of the flowers. She knew better, of course. With her illness, she couldn't even play with her own child. When the other ladies would play croquet, she would sit on the sidelines, watching and working on her knitting, creating beautiful garments for her child.

She didn't mind most of the time. However, there were days when she found it difficult to just watch. There were times when she wondered what would happen if she just tried, just for a moment. Her lungs emptied abruptly and she grasped at her chest. These lungs… If only she could will her entire being to find blame in her lungs for the dissatisfaction she felt deep down inside. Tilting her head up, she breathed in deeply. How immensely it disheartened her when she could feel her lungs struggle to expand. She feared she would have been trapped in that melancholy forever if Abigail had not called for her.

"My Lady," Abigail called in her bird-like voice as she hurried –far more quickly than necessary- down the garden path. She was a springy girl of twenty. Her wavy hair was as bright and golden as sunshine and bounced with every movement she made, no matter how small. She wasn't married, and likely never would be. Though overzealous at times, Abigail proved to be a hard worker with a kind and gentle heart. "Lady Bellamy has arrived for tea," The blond now said, her cheeks flushed with panic.

"Tea?" Rachel contrasted the girl, calm and unbothered by the sudden intrusion. Maude was a dear friend of Rachel's. They had known each other for several years. It saddened Rachel to see how much her friend had changed in those years. Once a pious and devoted wife, Maude was now the center of gossip in high society. The rumors that plagued her were readily believed, despite the lack of evidence. Once faithful friends now shied away from her, save for Rachel. Even if she wanted to abandon her friend, the self-absorbed woman wouldn't allow it. As was expected of Maude, she often dropped by unannounced. She was ignorant of the basic rules that governed society. This didn't bother Rachel, however. Hesitant to admit, she found in Maude a form of escape. The eccentric woman allowed a window into a more entertaining lifestyle and Rachel readily made accommodations for her. "That's perfectly fine, Abigail, don't worry. Just see her to the drawing room and have some tea and cakes prepared. I'll be there shortly."

"Yes m'lady," Abigail gave a quick, shallow bow and scurried off. Rachel took one last look at her flowers. If only their scents could heal her…

In the drawing room Maude was seated with a cake already in her hand. She was only two years older than Rachel but looked far more aged. Her heavy used of makeup did not help her. Rachel felt the presence of the woman before she even entered the room. She was thoroughly soaked in perfumes which invaded every nearby hallway and room and strangled the air. Abigail had opened as many windows as she could in preparation, but even that did little to dilute the odor. Rachel had warned Maude against this in the past. It agitated her illness. These heavy scents would surely cause her to faint one of these days. But, Maude never listened. She saw Rachel's illness as nothing more than mere fancy, a delusion created to call what little attention it could to her. When Maude saw the Lady Phantomhive she gave a small nod, as if giving Rachel permission to enter the room. The corners of her lips struggled to push the fat of her cheeks aside to form a smile.

"My, Rachel, don't you look lovely," Maude remarked, using the tone of voice that always made her comments sound as though they lacked sincerity.

"What a pleasant surprise.: Rachel replied dryly. "Hello Maude. How have you been?"

"Simply superb. And yourself?"

"Quite fine, thank you." Maude hummed her response and, raising an eyebrow, leaned back against the chair. Rachel took a seat across from her and moved to offer her guest some tea. However, seeing that Maude had already helped herself, she poured only herself a cup and let it grow cold in her lap. They talked about whatever simple subjects came to mind then. How the weather has been lately, the events of the recent ball they had both attended, the Marchioness of Winchester's new ball gown… When they found themselves with nothing else to address, Rachel was too anxious to allow for any sort of silence. Maude, on the other hand, found it to be the perfect opportunity to savour the Phantomhive's food. "What can I do for you, Maude?" Rachel asked, not wanting to wait until Maude had finished devouring all of the cakes before speaking again.

"Oh, not a thing, not a thing…" Maude replied, sitting up and reaching for something on her left side. "I just wanted to see how my dear Rachel was doing. Have you spread your wings a little more since I've last seen you? Have you done anything to cast off that act?"

"I'm beg your pardon?"

"What have you been doing with yourself, Rachel? Are you still more puppet than woman?" Maude's brows furrowed, while Rachel wore a look of surprise.

"What do you mean? I've been fulfilling my duties just like any other lady should. It's no act." Maude closed her eyes, her expression melting into a far-off, dreamy look.

"I don't see myself as a puppet, Maude." Rachel added.

"My poor dear, so green behind the ears. You can be so much more than a mother and a wife." Rachel clenched the fabric of her dress, growing more upset with each passing moment. Being a mother was one of the greatest gifts she could have ever asked for. Being the bride of Vincent Phantomhive was one of the greatest honors. Shouldn't that be enough? She found she was at war with herself now with Maude's words as an awful catalyst. What else could she possibly want? She had a feeling there was something out there. This feeling that she had pushed down with ease for so long finally started to bubble up within her. It clung to every passing thought and demanded itself be acknowledged. Rachel remained silent, unable to produce a peace within herself that allowed for a reply. Meanwhile, Maude pulled from her side a well-worn book with a tattered leather cover and no title. "I've just finished a marvelous book, you see. I thought you may enjoy it. It allows you to delve into life's infinite possibilities without dirtying your own hands." Rachel was wary of where the conversation was starting to head. She was afraid that with any more provocation she would not be able to hold back her shameful thoughts.

"…Is that so?" She said weakly.

"Yes, indeed so. You see, precious Rachel, a woman only has but one life. She mustn't surrender it to others."

"Maude-"

"There are so many opportunities in life. One mustn't limit herself. In books. In books we find an escape to those possibilities."

"But Maude-"

"Why, in this book, I was able to see life as an adulteress-"

"Maude!" Rachel stood up then, her voice returning to her. Her cup of tea fell from her lap and the lukewarm liquid bled into the rug. "I must ask you to stop!"

"Don't be so frightened, Rachel. It's not you in this book, after all. At least see how a life of excitement and sensuality could be—"

"No! I've heard enough." Rachel could feel her cheeks start to burn. She hurried over to Maude and took hold of one of her plump arms. "I must ask you to leave, now. Vincent is expecting company soon and they'll be needing this room." Maude let out a chuckle that sounded like the chiming of bells.

"Oh, alright. My dear you are far too virtuous for your own good."

"Please don't…" Maude placed a soft peck on Rachel's cheek.

"I was looking forward to hearing your thoughts on it. You were always more open-minded than those other cattle. Dear girl, take care now." Rachel saw her off to her carriage. It felt as though the air had become richer after the carriage disappeared into the thick forest. Her breaths were deeper, more gratifying. At least, for a moment or two. Rachel was now left alone with the tempest Maude had stirred within her. She was ashamed to admit to herself that what that fat old woman said did excite her, but she must admit it. Perhaps, she really was growing tired of her life. Rachel bit her lip hard, trying to stop these emotions before they spilled over. She had everything she could want… Everything. She repeated this to herself as she returned to the drawing room. Already a maid was there cleaning.

"Oh," Rachel sighed. "I apologize for the spill."

"It's alright, m'lady." As the maid scrubbed the tea out of the carpet her eyes wandered to the chair Maude had been sitting in. Rachel followed her gaze, and felt her chest tighten.

"Oh, that!" She exclaimed, hastily snatching the book from where it rested. "Just a book of Maude's she forgot…"

"Perhaps we could have one of the grooms return—"

"No!" The word came out before Rachel could even think of a response. "No, no, that's quite all right. Maude said she'd be coming by tomorrow. I'll just return it to her myself then." Rachel wasn't accustomed to lying. Her reaction surprised her. Without waiting for a response from the maid she hurried to her bedroom to hide the book like a stolen treasure. She sat down on her bed once the loot was secured. What was she doing? She breathed in deeply. She could smell the flowers from the outside garden as their scents drifted in through the open window.

As evening approached Rachel was able to once again lock away her feelings. Vincent had returned and was preparing for a meeting with his colleagues. The evening was a serene one, save for the servants who scurried throughout the building cleaning and preparing for the guests. Rachel found herself to be scurrying among them when her precious little one found the evening too boring and decided to misbehave. Ciel never truly meant to be naughty, Rachel knew this. Any time he found the day too bland, he decided to act out. He believed it benefited everyone around him. Unfortunately, he was wrong, and this deduction typically awarded him with a harsh scolding. Today he was incorrigible. He ran down the halls with one of Rachel's scarves clenched tightly in his chubby hand. She was no longer sure how long she had been chasing him, but she could feel the fatigue settling in. She found herself trailing farther and farther behind him, unable to even call out his name. Eventually she needed to stop. She leaned heavily against the wall as she struggled to catch her breath. No matter how deeply she breathed in, it felt as though no air was coming through. Her blood ran cold. She looked up to see Ciel had stopped and was now looking back at her, wide-eyed, from the other end of the hallway. She didn't want him to see her like this. She couldn't even find the breath to reassure him that mother was fine. Rachel fell to her knees, her free hand tugged at the collar of her dress. She felt as though it was choking her. She looked back up at Ciel and noticed a great shadow behind him. It glided past the boy and in an instant was beside her. It knelt down and spoke in a hoarse murmur.

"It's going to be alright, Lady Phantomhive. Just relax…" It was a request easier said than done. Rachel turned to look at the entity but found it had moved behind her. Bony fingers dug into her shoulders. The pressure hurt, and she wanted to squirm away. "Breathe in through your nose, slowly. Then out through your mouth." Rachel as she was instructed. She focused on her breathing, trying to forget about the pain in her shoulders. After what seemed like an eternity breathing came easier to her. She inhaled energy back into her lungs. The talons released their grip. Rachel ran a hand over her collarbone.

"Thank you," She said, looking back to see her savior. The Undertaker smiled back broadly before rising to his feet.

"It's nothing at all, m'lady. I couldn't very well have the Earl's wife succumb to her illness right in front of her child," He held out a hand. Rachel gingerly took it and stood up. She stared at the Undertaker, struggling to see his eyes from behind his curtain of silver hair. A few locks shifted, and an emerald eye peeked out at her from behind it. She felt as though she would lose her breath again. It must be the mystery of that oculus, half hidden and promising beauty like that of a sacred jewel that kept her so hypnotized. She had a delayed reaction to the man's words. Once her child's name registered in her mind, the spell was broken.

"Oh, Ciel!" Rachel gasped, realizing that the poor child witnessed all of it.

"Mother!" The toddler ran to her then, tears swelling in his eyes. She quickly gathered him up in her arms, smothering him with kisses and reassuring him that everything was okay.

"Mother's just fine, dear. Don't worry…" Rachel felt the light touch of hair against her cheek, and initially thought it was Ciel.

"That was quite a scare, wasn't it?" Feeling his warm breath against her ear, she jumped. The Undertaker simply smiled, seemingly unaware of how close he was. "Be care not to overdo yourself again, Lady Phantomhive, ihihi…" He lightly ran the back of his hand against her cheek. Rachel flinched and took a step back. She never spent much time in this man's presence, and certainly not alone. Though he was a trusted friend of Vincent's, she found herself feeling uneasy. For a nobleman, he certainly didn't know the proper way to interact with a married woman… Undertaker chuckled, amused by her reaction. "I should get going. There's a few things I want to talk to the Earl about. Take care m'lady, little Earl…" He waved goodbye with his sleeve and just as suddenly as he arrived, he vanished. Rachel remained where she was, clutching Ciel closely to her bosom. Ciel giggled and waved at the empty hallways where the Undertaker was.

"Bye bye!

That evening a frightening thought came to Rachel Phantomhive's mind. She was reading Ciel a bedtime story in the cozy rocker a friend of Vincent's had given to them. As she turned the page she remembered her own book, nestled away safely in her own room. The word she was reading got caught in her throat. It couldn't be possible that the book was cursed? She tried to force that silly thought out of her head, but the memory of the evening kept coming back to her. Undertaker's breach of personal space. His smoky voice. His scent, unlike any cologne she had smelled before. His fingers on her shoulders, dangerously close to her breasts… Rachel slammed the book shut.

"Mother?" Ciel looked up at her, wearing a look of disappointment. It was his favourite part of the story. Rachel sighed.

"I'm sorry, dear…" She opened the book again. "Now, where were we?" She'd keep these thoughts bottled up inside. They'd wither away eventually. They just had to. She wouldn't let this man distract her from her duties as a wife and mother. She wouldn't allow these fantasies to run loose inside her.