Disclaimer! the lovely characters do not belong to me, but Yana of course! Enjoy!
Five little ladybirds, climbing on the door
One flew away and then there were four.
Four little ladybirds, sitting on a tree
One flew away and then there were three.
Three little ladybirds, sitting on a shoe
One flew away and then there were two.
Two little ladybirds, looking for some fun
One flew away and then there was one.
One little ladybird, hiding behind the sun
One flew away and then there was none….
There was none.
What's this rhyme that keeps replaying in my head, Lizzie thought. Elizabeth Midford looked out the clear panes of the high French windows, decorated with graceful sweeping curves and bunches of carved marble fruits, in the wide dining room of the magnificent Midford mansion, out at the grey, rainy sky.
The Midford family, being the leader of all knights in the Kingdom "where the sun never sets", in the year 1894 under the reign of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, enjoyed as vast and lavish estate as would be expected of such a high-ranked English noble family bloodline.
But they were, in fact, more than the typical English nobility; along with the Phantomhive family as well as a few others in the empire, these are the people considered by the few who knew them as "the secret service of Queen Victoria"; and the vast majority of common folks, who while not knowing them were nevertheless struck awed by their aura of superiority, that soft, luring smell of resplendent lives lived beyond the wildest imagination – to them, these people are known as…
"the lofty, dangerous and beautiful."
Lizzie Midford sure was beautiful. At 14, she had great moist eyes of the lightest shade of green, which seemed always on verge of revealing something delightful or divulging some "awful" secret, as she would have put it; luxurious blonde curls which she always took care to have arranged in bunches of gleaming, cascading beauty; a slender figure, nimble feet, swift fingers. Combined with Lizzie's adoration of the latest fashions of laces, silks and velvets, she was an ideal image of the "spoiled noble child" living the forever untroubled dream life.
Yet Lizzie's mind was far from untroubled, this gloomy morning. Her body ached from the intensive sword-fighting training she had received yesterday; she was worried about the whereabouts of her papa, who had been dispatched off to an errand in the middle of the night; and to top it all off, to match the gloomy weather, there was this gloomy nursery rhyme playing and replaying in her head, like the sob of a broken musical box.
Five little ladybirds, climbing on the door….
A soft, melancholy voice, childish voice in fact if not for that tinge of unmistakable sadness, was singing it, singing it. Lizzie was positive she had not heard that voice before, in her conscious memory. Who on earth could it be, she thought, gazing into the depths of the smudged grey sky.
Four little ladybirds, sitting on a tree…
The smudged, grey sky. Sky, sky, Ciel. There was a reason why Lizzie loved watching the sky so much, because it was the namesake of the one and only boy to whom she gave her heart ever since she knew she had one, and to whom she was, in fact, going to belong to, for the longest time of forever.
Yes, Lizzie thought, and her heart seemed to swell with warmth; together, forever.
Three little ladybirds, sitting on a shoe…
How Lizzie loved le ciel. Especially on certain crisp autumn dusks, when the sky was the calmest and brightest hue of indigo, because it reminded her of his eyes – or, eye, after that time he returned three years ago – crisp, bold, dangerous yet somehow not lacking grace at the same time. She could lose herself in the depths of this indigo, completely, timelessly.
Two little ladybirds, looking for some fun…
I wonder what he's doing now, Lizzie thought, with a little sadness as she always felt when it came to Ciel Phantomhive. She had an idea he was not as fond of her as he had been before; in any case, he became a lot more secretive, defensive, even, after…that time. Her heart ached to know what she had done wrong, whether she had done wrong, how to put wrong to right.
One little ladybird, hiding behind the sun.
A pair of small arms, softly cradling her shoulders. A low, crooning voice, lined with love. Dark mahogany floor, dignified sweeping crimson curtains. Singing, and then there was none….
"Terry! Terry! Dinner now!" Footsteps closing. "Oh my, what have you been singing to Cousin Lizzie!"
"Just nursery rhymes, Mommy." Sweetly. "Coming now! C'mon, Lizzie, it's shepherd's pie…"
Lizzie's eyes flew open. She suddenly remembered that person, that voice, the soft, childish, broken voice.
She had not seen her in such, such a long while.
A polite, muffled knock behind. Lizzie turned around and the footman bowed low. "Invitation, Miss Elizabeth. From Earl Phantomhive. Lady Asteria had come for a visit, and wishes to see you."
"Cousin Asteria." Ciel Phantomhive surveyed the woman – a girl rather, seventeen-year-old and just dawning on adulthood – before him with his calm sea of a blue eye. "Good to see you….after all this while. Sebastian, serve tea."
"Yes, my lord." Sebastian tilted clear honey-coloured liquid into the cups with the customary elegant touch. "Top Ceylon green tea from the Assamese stock, across the Atlantic, freshly brewed." Sebastian bowed low. "Please enjoy, Lady Valnagh."
"Thank you," replied the lady in question gracefully, tilting the cup to her lips, while the almost inanely large, pure white Persian cat in her lap purred a delighted agreement. Sebastian paused for a fraction of a heartbeat, staring into the cat's wide, amber eyes, before bowing low again and retreating to his master's side.
"So, Cousin," said Ciel again, watching the girl before him; he had decided at long last that she was as yet a girl. Sunlight gleamed off Asteria long dark lashes as she blinked and smiled. She was leaner and gaunter, and much taller, when he had last seen her, Ciel thought, but her dark mahogany curls were just as abundant as they used to be. But then again, Ciel had never been close with Asteria, and it had been such a long time since they met, with so much happening in between, that he could hardly remember her existence. "It has been a long while," he said.
"Certainly, a very long while," Asteria smiled, watching the boy opposite her as keenly as the gaze she had been subjected to, except hers was masked under long coal-black lashes. Ciel had nearly outgrown the blue in his hair; it was now almost distinctly raven-slate; almost. His demeanour had become a lot colder, a great deal more grown-up.
The Phantomhive duties…. Asteria was familiar with them. She cocked her ears to listen about the empty mansion, once so full of life. So that had happened to him too, huh, she smiled and sipped her tea. "Well, well, my dear boy has become an earl now! So much has happened, indeed."
"I hope you all are well in Belgium," said Ciel. "Send my regards to Great-Uncle, Uncle and Aunt Valnagh, of course. I have neglected my duty by failing to visit you all, yet…my time could not permit that, regretfully." Ciel shrugged. He was hardly concerned with the welfare of this extended family; rather, merely wondering about what exactly Asteria had come to him for.
"That would be hardly necessary, I'm afraid," Asteria replied with a smile so beautifully tragic that it was sweet, and Earl Phatomhive was taken aback. What…? "Grandfather had passed on one year after we settled down in Belgium, and my parents both deceased recently." She sipped her tea again, the brim of the ceramic cup shading her eyes.
"I am very sorry," replied Ciel, with deep concern in his voice. He could feel Sebastian twitched in a silent snicker behind him, and he slapped him mentally. Sebastian knew Ciel couldn't care less about the deaths of his relatives, having gone through what he had been through; shock and curiosity, rather, were brimming over. The Persian cat meowed lazily, blinking her amber eyes at Sebastian, who gulped.
"Her name is Fainche," Asteria said suddenly, breaking the silence. She gestured towards her lap. "She has been such a comfort, on this journey here. She and I are hardly separable." Fainche stretched contentedly as if in recognition of her own importance, and slowly scratched herself. What a sudden change in topic, Ciel thought. Instead, he said,
"Ah – a loyal companion is always welcomed," with a sidelong glance in Sebastian direction. Asteria watched the pair with interest. Ciel Phantomhive, orphaned, with a pitch-black butler…
"BANG!" the door opened and Lizzie Midford burst in with her full array of flounces and flourishes, Snake's announcement "Lady Midford arrives" being barely audible. "Terry!" cried Lizzie, flinging her arms about the older girl's neck. Ciel remembered, with a wince, that the Midfords were always a great deal closer with the Valnaghs than the Phantomhives. So why had Asteria chosen to come here…..? "How I have missed you! Oh, why haven't you been back even once?"
"Belgium is far, far away, darling," Asteria cuddled the blonde girl lovingly. "But I've come now."
"Why didn't you come to our house, then?" accused Lizzie. Ciel was amazed, as always, by his fiancée's rare bursts of intelligence.
"I was afraid….certain persons might find me a cause for.… inconvenience," Asteria's reply was not really what Ciel expected, though. Fainche purred again, seeming to mock.
"What do you mean by that!" cried Lizzie. "I know Mommy and Daddy would be absolutely delighted! Mommy especially always adored you so!" She sat up with sudden energy. "Let's go back to my house now! C'mon. We'd have tea and biscuits, and I'd have a few dresses made for you in the latest British style…." Lizzie said, eyeing the foreign laces and patterns with obvious distaste. "Yes – dress-making is just the thing! And Brother isn't here to spoil it either. Perfect!"
Fainche meowed. Asteria stuttered, "Ah – uhm – sure, later – maybe not now –"
"Maybe Lady Valnagh would like to settle whatever business she had come to see Young Master for first," suggested Sebastian smoothly, surprising everyone by this sudden reminder of his existence. Fainche turned her eyes on him again and he lost his train of thoughts.
"Ah, sure, certainly," smiled Asteria. She cleared her throat, and silence suddenly floated in the room.
"My father, the Count Valnagh, had wished on his deathbed for me to continue his unfinished work, the part of which needed to be done in Belgium being completed. As such," Asteria said smoothly, "I have come to settle back in Britain and to inherit the title, as well as its work. I have thus a matter to request of you, Earl." She turned to Ciel. "I believe you are still in correspondence with Her Majesty, given the nature of your work." Ciel blinks. "I would appreciate it deeply if you could notify Her Majesty of my arrival in Britain, and my intention to receive the title. Also," she smiled. "You have rebuilt your household from scratch, Earl Phantomhive. Now I am embarking to do the same. I would like us to be on friendly terms in future." She bowed lightly.
"Certainly, my lady," Ciel said without missing a beat.
"Thank you, very much."
"How did you find her, Sebastian?"asked Ciel as the heavy oak door shut with a dull thud, deeply immersed in thought. Something's not right.
"First – she's this cousin of mine that I've hardly met before in my life. Now she comes back to Britain from Belgium, and the first thing she does is to find me.
"Second – she knows about that time.
"Third – her work." Ciel furrowed his eyebrows. "Valnaghs…an ancient line of nobility; they…do different things as well." Ciel closed his eyes and light floated on his eyelids. "I can't remember, Sebastian…Sebastian? Are you listening?"
The butler in question was staring off into space. "She was beautiful, though."
"Beautiful, huh," Ciel scoffed. "I guess you could say that, in a way, but…is that really something you should be noticing now?"
Sebastian did not appear to have heard, however. "Those eyes…..so big, so clear…..she is clearly a pampered girl, that long, silky fur…"
The cat. Ciel closed his eyes. Sebastian was talking about the bloody cat. Of course.
"Speaking of which, I'm allergic to cat fur," Ciel remembered suddenly. "Yet I hadn't sneezed even once, just now. I wonder….."
A polite knock. "A letter for Young Master, says Oscar," said Snake in his voice as scaly as his skin. Ciel took the letter from the platter. The royal signage. He read it carefully.
"Poison in the Royal Palaces," said Ciel to the Sebastian who cocked his head quizzically, relieved that his butler's mind was finally cleared of the Persian cat, or any animal in that particular species. "Unspecified source, could be Underground. And the worst – someone has gotten wind of it. Rumours are circulating all over London of how the Royal Family are dying off, one by one." Reputation of Queen Victoria was at stake.
"Sebastian, get Lau immediately."
"Yes, my Lord."