A/N: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin, but you knew that already.

Mithridate

n. 1.

(Med.) An antidote against poison, or a composition in form of an electuary supposed to serve either as a remedy or a preservative against poison; an alexipharmic

- Webster's Dictionary (1913)

Chapter One: Cinnamon & Ginger

Sunlight filtered into the room through windows framed by heavy baroque drapes. The light danced across the lavish dinning table to the rhythm of drifting clouds. I glanced down at my steaming cup of tea and brought the delicate China to my lips. A hint of cinnamon and ginger.

"Your arm, miss." Ancel, my attendant, offered me a gloved hand. His soft brown hair complemented his quiet disposition.

"Certainly." I lifted my sleeve. He held a syringe to my scarred forearm. "I have known you for years. You can call me Lucile." He did not respond.

"The master requests your presence at noon." He placed his gloves and the empty syringe in a metal canister. "I have been summoned by the missus. If you finish your tea beforehand, please leave the dishes and silverware in the canister. I shall dispose of them once I return." The door closed behind him.

I sipped my tea. Cold. I set the cup on its saucer and left the room.

-/-

"It's a beautiful day. Wouldn't you agree, my dear?" My father adjusted his glasses.

"Quite." I settled into the chair opposite of his desk. He was a man with sharp, angled features, dark eyes and dark hair. His clothes were impeccably tailored and his gloves were lined with gold trimming.

"Mister Bertrand was here a moment ago. He wanted to thank you for your service." I said nothing. The clock ticked, ticked, ticked. "He brought a box of fine chocolates as a token of his gratitude." He slid a small ribbon-wrapped box across the wooden desk.

"I assume the large sum of money he gave to you was out of gratitude as well."

"Now, Lucile," he sighed, "a lady must be careful with her words." He stood from his chair and slowly made his way to my side. The clock ticked. He grabbed my jaw and violently turned my face toward him. I felt his nails digging into my jaw through his gloves. "I am your father, so I will forgive your poor behavior. However, other men will not be as understanding." He released my jaw and pat my head. "Tomorrow evening, you will encounter Oliver Hoffman at the tavern. He frequents the establishment regularly. No further information is necessary." He handed me a photograph of a plump, pig-like man. Judging from his gray, thinning hair, he was probably in his sixties.

"Yes, father." I stood from my seat and dusted my skirt.

"Oh, and Lucile, be aware of your surroundings. I have received word that your actions have caught the attention of the military police." I nodded and left.

-/-

"The military police have recently contacted me regarding an issue." Erwin studied my obvious disinterest. "Several people been found dead within the inner city. The cause of death has been listed as poison."

"So?"

"The death reports are all rather strange. The victims were found bleeding from their eyes, mouth, and ears. Abrasions were found along the sides of the victims' faces. In a some cases, their eyes were ruptured. No puncture wounds were found on the bodies. A suspect has not been identified." Erwin rattled off the police report.

"So they want to push their responsibilities onto us?" I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into my chair.

"I suppose. However, choosing to cooperate will aid us in the future."

"Why are they so interested in these murders?"

"All of the victims were well known, wealthy men, most likely financial supporters of the military police. The community must be placing a particular emphasis on the situation."

"Of course." I scoffed.

"I would like you to find the murderer, Levi." Erwin placed his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands.

"What?" I blinked. A joke?

Erwin sighed. "Your leg is injured. Apprehending a criminal is less strenuous than participating in this week's mission."

"Is that an order?" My eyes narrowed.

"Yes."

"Tch. Understood." How fucking annoying.

-/-

The marketplace was busy during the mid morning. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air and drifted from one building to the next. The heels of women in lacy, cumbersome dresses clicked on the cobblestone streets. Danger, death, and Titans rarely occupied the thoughts of the affluent upper class. Dinner parties, business negotiations, and weekly specials at the butcher were of the utmost concern. My long black hair was neatly plaited and my tea-length dress was appropriate for a morning excursion. I was an unassuming member of this stifling, snooty society.

"The air is different." I commented.

"On Wednesday the bakery sells rye instead of pumpernickel," Ancel replied. He knew I was not referring to the bread.

Ancel walked half a step behind me. He rarely walked ahead of me and never walked beside me. I looked up at his face. He had an appealing face- boyish features, but icy, indifferent eyes.

"You have grown taller."

"Is your sole business to inspect the tavern today?" He ignored me.

"It is my primary concern, but I may stop at my leisure."

My eyes wandered to a toy stall a few paces ahead. I approached the stall. Toys were organized by type and color- blue wooden trucks, green paper kites. I plucked a multicolored pinwheel from a standing, wooden display. A gust of wind blew; the wheel spun. A strand of hair struggled free from my braid and tickled my nose. Ancel delicately brushed the strand of hair from my face, and our eyes met.

"Ah-!" A child chased a red ball to my feet. I knelt down. Ancel quickly snatched the ball and handed it to the boy. My fingers barely grazed the toy. "Thank you, sir!"

Ancel smiled and ruffled his hair. "You're welcome. Just be careful next time." The boy nodded and darted down the street.

"I could have returned it myself." I adjusted my white, silk gloves.

"I know."

We continued down the street in silence. The tavern was located at the far end of the market district. The building was cushioned between a narrow alleyway and a dead end. The nearest establishment was a brothel. "How convenient."

"We should return." Ancel scanned the crowd of people. "You are perspiring and your breathing is labored."

"I am fine." I spun around abruptly and looked over my shoulder at Ancel's disapproving expression. "The weather is simply-!" My heel caught between the cobblestone. I tripped and tumbled into the nearest person. My eyes widened as I felt the stranger's face brush against my own. Ancel grabbed my arm and pulled me toward himself, and my hand immediately flew to my cheek. A man with black, raven colored hair cursed under his breath and glared at me from the ground. His gray eyes studied me with suspicion.

"I-," my voice was shaking. I can't breathe.

"I am deeply sorry, sir." Ancel offered the man his hand.

"Tch." He was annoyed by the gesture. Unassisted, the man rose to his feet. He cast a venomous look in my direction before continuing in the opposite direction.

Ancel turned to face me. "Did-," he began.

"The side of my face..." My hand had not left my cheek. Panic. I felt perspiration collecting on my forehead and dripping down my neck. Panic. I felt lightheaded. I was fading. Then, there was silence and nothing.

-/-

A flock of stupid women were bragging about the clarity of their obnoxious jewels. I groaned. Why was I here? Oh, yeah. Erwin and his fucking, stupid orders. I decided to walk through the marketplace to see if I could gather any useful information. So far, all that I had gathered was an earful of shit. I was severely regretting my decision.

I made my way through the crowd. I planned to turn back at the end of the street. "My wife doesn't meddle in my late night affairs. After all, she knows she's a dead fish in bed." Two men laughed on my right. I gripped my temples and closed my eyes. This place is giving me a fucking headache. Maybe I should-! Someone ran into me. I fell backwards.

"Shit." My eyes darted to the woman that had driven straight into me. Her long dark hair was pulled back neatly to reveal pale blue eyes that were wide with terror. I expected her to demand an apology for wrinkling her dress. She opened her mouth to speak, but the man accompanying her interrupted. "I am deeply sorry, sir." He offered me his hand.

"Tch." Annoying. I stood up and glanced at the woman. She was cradling her cheek. Your face won't bruise, if that's what you're worried about. I turned around and left. As I pushed through the crowd, my face began to throb. On the other hand, maybe it will bruise. I rolled my eyes. There are worse things.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Get excited for the next one! It will hopefully be posted within a week. Suggestions and reviews are appreciated! :)