The mansion walls reverberated with joyous laughter as a little girl jumped into her father's awaiting arms. Throwing her arms around his neck, she uttered a cry of pure delight as she was lifted off the ground.

Setting her back on the ground, he stroked her auburn curls. With this action, the little girl raced out of the room, leaving her father to stand in awe of her. The little girl had become the best thing that had ever happened to him. She had made him laugh and cry, two things he thought he had forgotten how to do.

He couldn't allow what happened to him in his childhood to be repeated. This little girl could not become corrupted by death, darkness, and pain. He would hide her from the darkness that surrounded him, no matter the price.

And he would certainly never tell her what she truly was. . .

-Delilah-

Today was the day she was to be picked up by her father. She was somewhat nervous, but refused to let it get to her head. It had been weeks since she had heard from him and years since she had last seen him. But she was now done with school and would be able to return home.

She paced around the dormitory and stopped to look at the picture on the windowsill. It was a small painting of her mother and father, and she deeply cherished it. Slipping a rosary from around her neck, she silently prayed as she waited to be called upon.

Moments later a soft knock was heard at her door, tearing away at her away from her prayers. The door opened and the headmistress of the boarding school, Madame Ruth, stood there, smiling sadly.

"Your father's here, Delilah. The carriage is waiting."

She thanked her, gathered the last of her belongings, and mumbled another quick prayer. Madame Ruth walked ahead and Delilah followed.

Stepping out of the building, she saw a man speaking with the headmistress. This man was unmistakeably her father. The way he held himself, but mostly the black eye patch covering his right eye. He turned and smiled.

Delilah approached her father and threw her arms around him happily. As she pulled away from his strong embrace, she gazed up at him. His expression confused her for it was laced with joy, sorrow, and relief.

"We have much to talk about, my child." He said, breaking the silence.

"How is Mother?" She asked.

The girl's father straightened himself sub-consciously as he replied, "She is on vacation my dear."

"From what?" Delilah laughed as she stepped into the carriage. She watched as her father turned to say farewell to the headmistress.

"Thank you, madame."

"No," Madame Ruth corrected, "thank you. Mr. Phantomhive. Your daughter was an excellent student. We will all miss her."

-Ciel-

Ciel glanced at his daughter, who was casually looking out the window. She had grown to become a beautiful young woman. He was only sad because he couldn't be with her during her teenage years.

But it was for the best, he thought. If he had allowed her to grow up at Phantomhive Manor, she would have been surrounded by. . . influences. . . that would not have been good for her. He could not have allowed it no matter what.

His train of thought suddenly changed. He remembered how is daughter was denied the right to see her mother before she died. She didn't even know her mother was dead.

Ciel glanced at his daughter again. She had started to doze off as she leaned against the side of the carriage. He reached out and grabbed her fragile hand. He would never let the darkness contaminate her. He refused to think that her purity, which could be compared to the whitest snow, would be marred by evil.

-Sebastian-

He watched as the carriage came to a halt. His blood red eyes, which had been darting back and forth as he surveyed the scene before him, came to rest on his master's daughter. Indeed, she was pretty. Her auburn hair had been styled into a casual bun, and she wore a lavender dress. His master, Ciel, exited the carriage also and joined her.

He began to head towards the door, but stopped, panic-stricken.

What if she remembered him? Did she already know her father's secret, or had she been kept in dark all this time?

He took a deep breath and laughed to himself.

Of course she doesn't know, he thought.

Her father would never tell her anything that would mar his image of himself.

Finally he stepped outside to meet them. "Welcome home, my lord, and welcome, Miss Phantomhive." He said, bowing in respect.

He stood facing Ciel, but he cut a glance towards the younger looking man and decided to clear things up. "Delilah, this is the butler, Sebastian Michaelis. You will find him quite. . .capable."

Bowing, Sebastian gave a slight smile and responded, "Please, my lord, I am simply one hell of a butler. . ."