This is a collaboration story I've been writing since October of last year, together with my friend aeon fear. Oh. There's a rhyme. :)

Regardless, this is a story I'm personally very proud of so I'd appreciate it if you shared your opinion through a review.

Also, we don't own Kuroshitsuji, not even Sebastian, unfortunately. :(

I hope you'll enjoy our synchronized performance :)

Mary :D

Act 1

Scene 1

Alcott Aethelburg, the third Earl Aethelburg, used to be one of the finest gentlemen of the metropolis. With his handsome features and kind manners, it was a wonder how he had been left unmarried, even though he was barely 24 years of age. Oh, how he would need the unconditioned love of a woman in such dreadful moments!

The poor young man was standing alone in the burial vault of his family, holding his hat to his chest in one hand and carrying a silver cane in the other. Two years had passed since the tragic events but only then, surrounded by the dead members of his family, did the loneliness reach deeply into his heart, freezing his blood.

Earl Aethelburg had ceased to be a fine gentleman after his sister, his darling Beatrice, and his father were brutally murdered by an unknown criminal. The shock was great, for Beatrice was the purpose of Alcott's existence. Their mother had lost her life upon giving birth to his sister but, taught by his father, Alcott had learnt to cherish this sacrifice and grew to love the little girl more than himself.

A single tear escaped the corner of his ash colored eyes, running slowly along his smooth cheek. "What have I done wrong?" murmured he, gripping his cane tighter. He had sworn not to cry, for he was a man, but he had done it numerous times, during the long nights when he would drink much more than necessary.

A heavy sigh left his tired lips as his thoughts drifted towards those moments of weakness. He realized how many pointless things he had done and suddenly wished to make everything right again. His eyes fell on the 'Arthur Aethelburg' name engraved on the stone of one of the tombs-his father's. Alcott deemed himself unworthy of the title and the fortune he had inherited from his parent. He had lost his pride long ago, had even stopped cutting his hair as a sign of his continuous mourning. But he couldn't keep doing this forever, he didn't want to ruin what was left of his family.

Putting his black hat back on, Alcott left the cemetery with refreshed spirits. He wouldn't let his father's efforts go to waste. The West End theatre Arthur had put all his hopes in and loved so much, the stage which brought happiness to his depressive sister—he wouldn't let it fall down without having even tried to restore it.

He had once been his sister's manager. He would be capable of managing the theatre as well. But first, he needed a troupe. And among that troupe, he needed a star. A star that would make his theatre shine brighter than any other. Such a unique star could be found anywhere, he just prayed to come across it as soon as possible.

For that purpose, Earl Aethelburg began wandering the dark and dirty streets of London and attending extravagant West End theatres, observing second-hand performers during the day and admiring already polished diamonds on evenings. Out of the two, he inclined more towards the former. He wanted someone he could take care of, someone who would become indebted to him for the charitable act he would do. Such a someone would forever be loyal to him and never leave him, should they be approached by a richer theatre owner.

Unfortunately, the streets were of absolutely no help at all. The gypsies did not interest him, nor did the dishonest gamers tricking the men out of their money. It was the first time he saw how low London actually was. He'd been with his head in the clouds his whole life and knew nothing of these poor souls struggling to survive every single day. It caused him pity but also nausea.

Until, one day, while strolling along a more populous and tidier street, he heard the newspaper boy yell, "Circus! Circus! One fortnight in town! Circus! Circus!"

Earl Aethelburg received the news as a splash of cold water in the face early in the morning. He rushed with small steps to the boy and bought a paper. It wasn't the Times, it was a company he hadn't even heard of, but the article on the first page captured his attention and held it for long moments.

A picture of a happily smiling girl, wrapped in a tight, colorful costume accompanied the columns about the 'Wagner Zirkus'. "'Charlotte Wagner, of only 15 springs, daughter of the owners, is also the brightest shining star of the circus...'," he read aloud, "The brightest shining star..."

Folding the paper, he put it under his arm and hurried back home to begin the preparations. "Circus! How brilliant! Why has it not occurred to me sooner?"

Earl Aethelburg bought a ticket that very night and attended the first performance of Wagner Zirkus.

The circus put up their tents in the edge of London. It was some distance from his home, but it did not matter. He was utterly focused on seeing how Charlotte Wagner would perform. She may have been just what he was looking for. Brilliant, young, talented. She was also beautiful—though the picture in the paper told him nothing about the color of her hair or eyes.

He arrived with only ten minutes in advance and showed himself in. There were some ruffians who tried to rob him on the way in but a few blows from his cane put them to order. He seated himself a few feet from the circus ringside. He had to make sure to absorb every second of her performance.

It was crowded inside the circus. The sequence of the performances obviously catered to Charlotte's popularity—she was the last act, for maximum audience impact. Before her act, there were the ordinary acts for a circus—bears, clowns, horses, leaping tigers. There were also a knife-thrower and a fire-walker.

The crowd gasped, shouted, and applauded according to the performances. Alcott watched the crowd as carefully as he watched the acts, and what he saw satisfied him. If this was the sort of environment that Charlotte had grown up in, she would have no trouble adjusting to a life in London. She was no shy backwater country girl, this Charlotte, to shine in the Wagner Zirkus.

"And now—the moment you've all been waiting for! The pride of the Wagner Zirkus—Lottie Wagner!"

Lottie? Ah, yes. Her stage name.

Lights suddenly burned high above them. As one, the audience looked up, just in time to see a blurred figure leap high into the air. It caught a bar that Alcott hadn't even noticed was there until she swung from it, as easily as if her body was not made of flesh and blood and sinew but of another, more ethereal substance.

"Charlotte Wagner," he whispered softly to himself.

She had light brown hair, was slim and petite. That was all that he could see from where he sat. He could also see her smile from down there. It was obvious that she loved performing.

The crowd returned that love. They applauded wildly, whooping and shouting with glee. A few rows in front of him, a black-haired boy was actually laughing, clapping his hands.

"Perfect," he told himself, as he watched her do pirouettes. The perfect tool.

He stood just as Charlotte made one final graceful somersault, landing only inches from where he was. For a moment he caught her eyes—a lovely shade of crimson. It seemed that she noticed him too, for her eyes lingered on him, a well-dressed figure, standing in the sea of people.

He smiled at her. The first time he smiled since...well. Since that incident.

Charlotte immediately turned away, blushing slightly, and bowed to the audience, her arms raised up high. Three bows in three directions. Then she exited the ring.

As she left, Alcott was also leaving his seat. He had to have her in the new theater. It was the new purpose that he needed after the deaths of his father and sister. Something stirred in him as he watched her performance. As a theater man, he knew what it was. Charisma. The ability to draw in people.

Looking at her perform, he felt like he could live again—face each day with only the thought of bringing the criminals to—what?

Justice? A personal vendetta, perhaps, at his own hands—

But it could all wait. It must wait, for the first step in his plans was spiriting Charlotte away from this circus. Money was no object. He could offer her a life a thousand times better than what she was used to.

He departed from the circus. A few men pointed him in the direction of the Wagners' tent. He nodded his thanks and proceeded to the said canvas dwelling.

There was a man outside the tent, smoking a cigar. Alcott approached the man cautiously. "Good evening. Are you Hans Wagner?" he asked politely.

"Perhaps," said the man. "Who wants to know?"

"Earl Alcott Aethelburg." He swept his hat off and pressed it close to his chest. "Are you interested in a proposal?"

"Proposal? What kind o' proposal?" the man spoke with a thick accent, his eyes gleaming strangely.

Alcott gave him a sly smile. It would be easy to fulfill his plans. Although the German was physically imposing, with strong arms and broad shoulders, it was obvious that he lacked education. Also, it would have been impossible not to notice how his entire attitude changed upon hearing the title of Earl. The man wanted money. It was all Alcott needed.

"A business proposal," the Earl replied, "Concerning your daughter."

Herr Wagner stiffened for a moment, but just for a slight moment, then invited the Earl in to a cup of hot tea because the January chill was freezing him to the bone. Alcott gladly accepted, mentally preparing his speech.

Charlotte was greeted by her mother behind the curtains with a proud 'bravo!' and criticizing eyes. The woman never let her daughter think too highly of herself, for she strove perfection and arrogance would be an obstacle impossible to overcome. Frau Wagner knew from experience. She herself had once had an unfortunate downfall which forever cast her away from being the main attraction.

The girl listened carefully to her mother's explanations and promised to work hard to correct her mistakes until the next show. She wrapped herself in a woolen shawl her mother handed to her and walked outside to talk to the journalist who had made the article about the circus, in spite of the cold. She was well aware of the financial difficulties her parents found themselves in and was willing to help as much as she could.

"Miss Wagner, is it?" he inquired.

Charlotte nodded.

"I must say that your performance was impressive! I have never in my life seen something so beautiful," he heartily praised her, "Would you mind answering some of my questions?"

"No, not at all. Go ahead. But my English is not very good so please forgive my mistakes," she shyly responded.

The lad smiled with sympathy and suggested a walk around the place to keep themselves warm. For the following quarter of an hour, the reporter assaulted her with flattering compliments every time he asked a question. Charlotte blushed and smiled with crimson orbs full of gratitude. She replied to his queries to the best of her abilities and apologized whenever she thought she had said something wrong, until she received the assurance that he understood everything and shall make it sound good on paper. He kissed the back of her hand when they parted, earning one last cute smile from the young lady that had charmed him completely.

Charlotte spun on her heels and returned quickly to her tent, knowing that a cup of hot milk was impatiently awaiting her. But she was more than surprised to find a stranger in her tent, talking to her parents, who had clearly forgotten about her milk. Of course. They were too busy entertaining the rich-looking guest.

"Ah, there is she!" her father merrily called, standing up. His heavy arm fell on her shoulders, almost crushing her to his chest. "Mah daughtah," he stated on a proud tone.

Earl Aethelburg stood as well and bowed before the confused girl. "Miss Wagner, it is my utmost pleasure to meet you like this. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Alcott Aethelburg, the third Earl Aethelburg."

"Earl?..." she muttered dumbfounded.

She looked away when their gazes met, as if that would hide her suddenly reddened cheeks. It was the handsome man from the audience who had smiled at her during the show. She didn't know what to say. His presence was unusually overwhelming, unlike nothing that she had felt before. When she finally dared to look at him again, her eyes locked on his unwillingly. There was something in his that sent shivers down her spine. Not that great sorrow hidden deep within his irises, something else, malicious and unnerving.

"Well, then, Mr. Wagner, we shall meet again in 13 days. Have a good night." The Earl put his hat on and grabbed his cane.

Frau Wagner saw him out with overbearing politeness, speaking too much and too fast. Her face was gloriously beaming when she came back. Charlotte had a dozen questions but seeing the bottle of good liquor on the table, she assumed that Earl Aethelburg must have been an investor of sorts. Little did she know that the investment required an unpleasant trade.

Alcott jumped in his carriage with a satisfied countenance. He had taken the first step into his new life and he was extremely happy about it. Charlotte Wagner was more than he could have wished for. She had talent and loved to perform. She was also strong, both physically and psychologically. She wouldn't be such an easy target for his evil enemies.

"Charlotte..." A playful grin adorned his lips. "Charlotte...," he repeated, still lost in the girl's scarlet orbs.

Three days after Charlotte's interview with the newspaper, the article was published. She received the morning edition of it and eagerly browsed through the paper.

She found it on the fifth page. Her picture was on the upper right hand corner. She read every word. So far, the article stayed true to what she had told the journalist...

Except for the final paragraph.

"However, rumor has it that the Fraulein Charlotte Wagner would soon be leaving the Wagner Zirkus to pursue a life in the theaters of London!" she read aloud in horror. "What is this? I never said anything like this!"

She ran to their tent. There was only one place the reporter could have gotten that tidbit from. Her own parents.

"Father! What is this?" she demanded.

Her father looked up. "Eh?"

"What's this? I am leaving the circus?"

Herr Wagner put a hand on her shoulder. "Lottie, calm down. That gentleman from three nights ago, the Earl Aethelburg—he wanted you to join his theater."

Her heart began to pound."And?"

"Ah...Lottie, you know that we've had money problems..."

Comprehension came at the speed of light. "You agreed...You will give me away!"

He had the grace to look ashamed.

"Did you tell the paper, too?"

"No! No, Lottie." He shook his head emphatically. "We would not...we would like to tell you this ourselves. Not the paper. You should not have had to find out from this article."

She threw the paper down at her father's feet. "How can you expect to make the circus popular again if you give me away?" she hissed. Tears were starting in her eyes.

If her parents weren't the ones who told the paper, then...

It could only be that Earl.

The Earl Aethelburg folded his morning paper with a satisfied expression on his face. It had been a simple matter to ask the journalist to add a few sentences more to Charlotte's article—that, and a few coins sent the right way. He wondered how she would take it.

Nonetheless, Charlotte was not the only factor in his plans for revenge. She was a step, yes. Still, he had to oversee the theater premises, or else Charlotte would not have anywhere to perform.

He found other actors quickly. They had been lured in by the promise of working with the Aethelburgs once more. Most of them were members of his old theater, only needing a "Beatrice".

He felt the familiar grief rack through him at the thought of that—another "Beatrice"? Another star who would make the theater—his theater now—rise from the bloodbath it had descended into. Disappeared into. And, like a magic trick, he would show those men what it really meant to have him as an enemy.

He rode all throughout the city, gathering resources and information. He was just about to go home when he heard a commotion in the street.

"And I need the directions for the newspaper, Gazette! Where is it?"

The Earl knew that voice, and couldn't believe it. He tapped the side of his carriage to halt the vehicle.

A group of thugs were surrounding a much shorter figure. He stepped closer. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

The thugs turned to look at him. "Mister, you shouldn't stick your nose where it don't belong."

"This lady is with me." Or almost with him anyway. "I think you're the ones who don't have any business with her."

Charlotte was just staring at him with wide eyes.

"Oh yeah? Care to prove your claim?" said another thug, getting offensively close to his face.

Gray eyes flashed. There were five of them and one of him. He swung his silver-tipped cane, nearly taking out the eyes of the thug closest to him. As it was, he heard a sickening crack as the cane came into contact with his skull. Another two swings, dislocating an elbow and a wrist of two separate bullies.

Their cries of pain were like music to his ears. They had never known real pain, the ignorant fools.

The remaining two men stepped back when he took another step towards them. "Well, gentlemen?"

They fled. In seconds, the street was clear.

He faced Charlotte. "Are you all right?"

"H-How did you know where I was?"

He almost laughed. "No, I didn't know. It was just coincidence. Lucky for you, too. Have you been in London before?"

"No."

"It would be easy to get lost, and there are a lot of ruffians like that around here. Come with me. I'll escort you back to the circus."

She followed him into his carriage, where he instructed his driver to convey him to the Wagner Zirkus. He was inspecting his cane, checking to see if there was any blood, when she finally spoke.

"Aren't you going to ask why I was there?"

"I can guess," he said dryly. "You wanted to find me. And ask me why I told that journalist that you're about to leave your precious circus."

She reddened. "If you know so much, then answer my question!"

He was blunt. "I don't think it's strictly relevant. Your parents are inclined to agree with selling you to me. You would know better than I about your current financial situation. I can give you my reasons why I want you when you formally leave the circus."

"I don't want to go with you!"

He smirked. "That's not strictly relevant, either." He leaned close. "And you can be more gracious to the one who saved you. What do you think they would have done if I hadn't arrived, hmmm?"

"I..."

He sensed her mounting temper and sat back again with a sigh. "If you want to go into the city again, take someone with you. You may be a gifted performer, and I think with your abilities you may be able to get away from one, maybe two of them. But five men are too much. They could break you in half with only one hand."

The carriage stopped, effectively ending their conversation. "Here we are. I can't come with you to your tent, however. This is as far as I can go."

They really were there. Charlotte had been afraid that the Earl Aethelburg would take her to his home and never let her leave.

"Aren't you going to come and persuade my parents again?" Charlotte asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

The driver opened the door for her and she got out of the Earl's carriage.

"Why, Charlotte," the Earl said, amused. "They don't need persuasion anymore."

She went pale. It was already arranged?

"Enjoy your last performances with your circus, dear. Guten abend." He tapped the roof of his carriage again, and the Earl rode away.

Charlotte sank to her knees. She had little more than a week left.

What had her parents done?

Charlotte ran desperate to her tent, finding her parents talking casually over lunch. "What have you done?" she yelled with bitterness.

"Lottie!" Her mother stood up, a hurt expression spread across her face.

"You have sold me like a slave, to a stranger! And you dare call yourselves my parents! How could you?! Just how could you?"

"Lottie, dear...It is best for all of us," Frau Wagner began, "With the money from that man we can restore the circus and he has promised to take very good care of you! You have seen him! We'd have to live a thousand lives to offer you what he already has—"

"I don't care! You are the worst!"

With that, she stormed out and rushed to the main tent. The performers greeted her warmly and smiled at her as she passed by them. She smiled back, sadness picking at the corner of her eyes. She had to scare it away before the show and the best way to do it was training. She climbed to the tightrope, took a step on it, breathed in deeply and jumped. The audience didn't have to know what she was going through. The audience always deserved the best.

Apotheosis-1. perfect example of something 2. best point in someone's life or career

~The first act will be continued with scene 2 on the 24th~

ps: the cover is custom-made. by me. the blonde chick is Charlotte :D (I could make one for you, too, if you'd like, just drop me a review or a pm)

pps: don't just click all of those little squares, write something in that big review box as well; Sebastian will give you a rose for it :)