Ciel stared at the Queen's butlers, shocked. Tax evasion? That was far beneath him, and the members of his staff were well paid. Ciel groaned when he realized the discrepancy's cause.

"Fine. Sebastian, prepare two cheques. Make one out to Her Majesty for the outstanding balance, and the other," he sighed. "The other is to be made out to yourself at the sum of a hundred pounds for your work this year."

"Retroactively," his butler muttered under the guise of a cough.

"Three hundred pounds, Sebastian. Not a pence more."

"Yes, my lord," the demon smirked, rather pleased with himself.