My first fanfic. Please review with any suggestions!

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (c) Yana Toboso

That boy had very few pleasures left in life. But there was at least one sense that was left intact.

He loved eating. Anything. Especially sweets. He considered it his right. Much of his childhood and innocence was gone—either taken or bartered away—but he still appreciated the simple pleasures of chocolate, cookies, cakes, and candies. At times, it was the only thing that reminded him of his humanity.

That morning, he was eating dry toast with succulent strawberry preserves. The tangy sweetness of the jelly played against the blandness of the toast in his mouth. He savored not only the taste, but also the texture of each bite. He enjoyed the feeling of the harsh, rough toast joined with the smooth, gelatinous preserves against his tongue. The young Earl washed it down with a sip of Earl Grey. He inhaled the warm air above his tea cup, the mild floral aroma enveloping his senses. He took another piece of toast from the carefully-arranged toast rack to repeat the almost religious experience.

"Good morning, Young Master." It was the butler.

Earl Phantomhive, shaken from the sensuous reverie of his breakfast, lifted his dull blue eye to meet his butler's gaze. He did not respond.

"I have brought the post for you," he continued, setting down a pile of envelopes and pouring more tea into Ciel's cup. "You may want to review them straight away."

Ciel fingered through the pile of thick envelopes, tossing aside the party invitations and inspecting prospective business inquiries. Suddenly, he stopped. One of the letters was unmarked except for the letters "E.P.". Turning the envelope over, he found that familiar insignia.

"Sebastian," Ciel prompted, rising to his feet. "Is the carriage ready?"

"It can be in a few minutes, Young Master." Sebastian was already clearing the table.

"We must go into town today."

"Yes, Young Master."

Ciel walked toward the door, his mind already up the stairs, down the hall and in his room to collect the necessary effects for the trip. "Master?" his butler called.

"What?"

"Your breakfast - was it pleasing to you?"

Ciel deliberated for a second, "What is there to say about toast and tea? I hardly pay attention to such things."

A smile played across Sebastian's face. "Very good, Young Master." But Ciel had already left the breakfast room.

~ 次回 ~

Not thirty minutes later, Ciel and his butler had left the estate, heading due east toward London. Typically, the drive into town was about 75 minutes, but with Sebastian at the perch, it rarely was over 45. Ciel, still drowsy, stared out the quarter lights, his chin resting in his hand and his fingers slipped beneath the thin leather strap of his eye patch. The sky was dark and overcast-a thoroughly British day, he thought. A perfect day to devote to Queen and Country.

He removed the letter from his coat. Again, he eyed the seal-the royal standard supported by a lion and a unicorn. He caressed the thick sealing wax with the tip of his finger before breaking the seal.

The message was short and devoid of the normal flowery language and stiff platitudes that accompany a royal summons. It simply read:

Queen Victoria requests your

presence at her palace at

your earliest convenience.

Ciel knew that this would be the message. It always was. He folded the letter again and replaced it in his coat's breast pocket. The carriage jostled, shooting Ciel's thirteen-year-old body to the hood and plummeting him back to the carpeted floor of his carriage.

"Sebastian!" Ciel's voice cracked, a common occurrence as of late.

"Begging your pardon, Young Master!" Sebastian's voice was cheerful. "You know how these roads are!"

Ciel repositioned himself on his seat and rubbed his head, muttering indistinguishably.

~ 次回 ~

Ciel and his butler emerged from Buckingham palace later that day.

"Her Majesty really is an extraordinary person," Ciel commented to Sebastian as they set off toward the Upper East end. The clicking of Ciel's walking stick complimented the shuffle of their feet.

"Naturally, yes. Why in particular do you say so?"

"She summoned me today under the pretense of requiring an update of my management of the opiate underworld, but really, I believe that she just wanted to see me."

"That is quite an accusation to make against our monarch, Young Master. Why do you think that?"

Ciel stopped, frowning. "Whenever I come, she pats my head to greet me, offers me sweets, and generally treats me like a child. And she takes pleasure in it."

Sebastian laughed. "Surely, the Queen, who has no young children of her own, enjoys seeing you! I'm sure there are very few children in the palace these days."

"Perhaps, but it makes me second guess her confidence in my competency. Additionally, even if I were simply a child and not her manager of certain assets or the owner of England's most successful toy and confectionery company, I am thirteen - isn't her treatment somewhat infantilizing?"

"Ah! But you do not appear to be thirteen! Anyone would guess that you are not more than ten."

Ciel shot a menacing glare from his eye and walked indignantly in front of his butler.

Sebastian sighed. "Young Master, the Queen may be extraordinary, but you are a singularity. I have no doubt of her confidence in you."

"Do not patronize me," Ciel responded coldly. "My life is not a mystery to you."

Sebastian laughed again. "Don't go on an emotional tirade. If your life had no mystery to me, I wouldn't stick around."

"You wouldn't dare leave me." Now Ciel was smiling. "Our bond is immutable. Mutually beneficial. You need me, and I need you." The clicking of their boots continued in rhythmic succession.

"Is that all you have to say about it?" Sebastian softly hissed. Ciel turned his head to his shoulder for a moment and then continued his stride. That butler, he thought.

That man.

That creature.

He was 6 feet tall and elegantly figured. His limbs were lithe and almost effeminate, but Ciel had seen the power that they possessed and long had dismissed him as the strongest man he knew. His hair, like Ciel's own, was black and straight. But unlike Ciel's lip-length hair that subtly covered the patch on his left eye, the tips of Sebastian's fringe caressed his narrow chin. Today, his eyes were brown and narrowed in acute and weathered observation of his surroundings. Any passerby would think him to be in his early twenties. But Ciel knew better.

~ 次回 ~

The smell of Lau's den was sickly sweet. Ciel was quite accustomed to its scent, and today, it was the first sign that their journey through the East End was nearly over.

As Ciel and his butler entered the dimly-lit den, Lau greeted them with Chinese blessings of good luck and wealth. Lau was the owner of a Chinese trading company - not the only Chinese trading company in London, but certainly the largest.

The Queen had graced him with permission to distribute certain substances of oriental descent in London under a few provisions: 1) Her Majesty had exclusive power to regulate the quality and quantity of these Papaver somniferum derivatives and 2)she received 50% of the profits. As the hereditary manager of her business in such delicate matters, the Earl of Phantomhive often frequented Lau's opium den to ensure that these provisions were carried out successfully.

However, despite their largely business-like relationship, Lau was something of a friend to Ciel.

"Please, come in, Earl Phantomhive. Nice to see you, Sebastian. I'll have my ladies get you something to drink." He was reclining in an environment of plush, embroidered pillows with several beautiful attendants serving him food and drink.

"That won't be necessary, Lau. I'm only in town for another hour or so, and I have other things to do."

"Aw, don't be like that, Earl. Are you still drinking milk in your tea, or shall I put something harder in it?" Lau smiled mischievously.

"I'm here for the payment," replied Ciel, unfazed.

"Ah! Her Majesty is ever the consistent business woman, isn't she?" Lau replied as he slipped his hand into his embroidered silk coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. Sebastian approached the mass of pillows to retrieve it.

"Thank you. Good day." Ciel tipped his hat as he turned to leave.

"One moment, Ciel," Lau called. "I have something that may interest your fiancé."

Ciel stopped and turned back, scowling. "You don't even know who she is, Lau!"

"But I know that she exists!" He smiled so hard that his thin eyes were completely shut. "And I know that she must be rich and that she has everything."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "Surely, any dimwit could figure that out."

"But, Ciel, the only way to win her heart is by showering her with gifts! Any gentleman knows that much about courting a lady."

"I see, and I suppose you are just the man to consult about such gifts?"

"You make me blush, Earl of Phantomhive!"

"And you make me sick."

Lau procured a small box from his coat pocket. "Give her this." He tossed it from his throne of pillows. "She will surely swoon," he said as Ciel opened the box.

Ciel gasped.

~ 次回 ~

A ring is what Ciel had expected to find in the box. What he did not expect was that the ring would still be attached to a finger. He shuddered and tossed the box to the ground, the heavy metal clinking to the floor and rolling with its decaying appendage in tow.

"What is the meaning of this?" He cried, indignantly.

"Tsk, tsk. Earl, your observational skills disappoint me. Surely, you know whose ring that is." Ciel stared at him blankly.

"I believe that it belongs to the Count of Le Mans, who recently paid the Queen a visit not three weeks ago," chimed in Sebastian.

Lau laughed. "Very good, Sebastian! Nothing gets past you!"

Ciel did his best to calm himself down. "You have a sick sense of humor, Lau."

"And you have no sense of humor, Earl." He laughed again. "That's why we are friends. We balance each other out."

Ciel stooped to pick up the ring. He removed it from the bloated finger of Le Mans and tossed the rotting flesh out the window. He examined it more carefully. No doubt, it belonged to the Count de Le Mans. Ciel recognized the coat of arms on the face of the ring.

"I assume that he is dead," Ciel said passively.

"You assume correctly," Lau replied.

"Did you kill him?"

"Why, Ciel! You think I killed him? You know that I can hardly be bothered to make my own tea, much less dirty my hands enough to kill a man!"

Ciel laughed - a rare occurrence. "You're right, Lau. Who, then? Who killed Monsieur de La Mans?"

"Who, indeed?" Lau stared enigmatically at Ciel, a smile dancing on his face.

"You mean you have no idea who killed him?" Ciel said in exasperation after a few seconds.

"Not at all. That's why I asked you!" Lau seemed quite amused with himself.

"It is none of my business. I am very busy, you know. Why should I care?"

"Because that man was responsible for smuggling in large amounts of controlled substances into this country without check. Clearly, he was very good at it, since you don't even know about it." Lau smiled furtively.

"But you knew?" Ciel narrowed his eyes. "Surely, you would be the one who would benefit the most from eliminating this competition."

"Me and the Defender of the Faith, the Queen."

Ciel thought for a moment. "You believe the Queen ordered him to be killed, don't you?"

"Perhaps - maybe. You know, I don't really care. I just thought you would know more about it. But, clearly, you don't." He wrapped his arm around the waist of one of his attendants and whispered something in her ear.

"I really must be going," Ciel said as he turned to walk out the door.

"Goodbye, Earl! Godspeed!"

~ 次回 ~

Back on the street, Ciel and his butler began their journey back to the center of the city.

"Let's get a remise, Sebastian. I'm tired."

"Yes, Young Master." The Phantomhive carriage had a tendency of attracting unwanted attention on this side of town. It was their custom to walk to and from Lau's den from Buckingham Palace. But today, both time and Ciel's patience was running short.

They were safely in the cab of a hackney as a clap of thunder resounded in the sky, and they were not half-way back to the palace when it began to rain torrentially.

Ciel stared out the window, trying to make out the images of the streets of Piccadilly obscured behind a panel of water. Numerous figures of gentlemen clad in black overcoats, a child's white parasol, a lady's red dress...

"What are thinking, Young Master?"

Ciel sighed. "Nothing, really. I'm very tired today."

"Are you worried about the late Count?"

"Not really. It isn't any of my concern."

"Are you sure about that?" It was less of a question and more of a suggestion.

"I'd rather not think about it right now, Sebastian." Ciel said as he crossed his arms.

"Eventually, you will need to."

"Why?"

"Because the Count is not dead."

"Lau said that he was."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "And you believed him. You are therefore both guilty of thoughtless judgment."

Ciel grunted and raised his hand to smack his butler, but he was far too slow to have the desired effect. Sebastian smiled as he squeezed Ciel's wrist in his hand. He effortlessly lowered it back to Ciel's lap and whispered in his ear, "Now, now, Young Master. None of that." He concluded by blowing a playful puff of air into Ciel's ear. The Earl's face turned red as he turned his gaze back to the window. Sebastian released his grip and returned to his seat.

"We'll worry about it later, Sebastian." Ciel said softly as their taxi reached the palace.

"Yes, my lord," was the reply.