May, 1889

England

What began as an average (yet enjoyable) spot of afternoon tea came to abrupt halt when the Prince of Bengal inexplicably called upon the Phantomhive house.

"Does everyone in this country possess a crippling fear of footmen!"

Was exactly how Earl Ciel of Phantomhive greeted his sudden guest, and rather inhospitably, too.

"Apologies for our unplanned arrival, Lord Phantomhive," the Prince's manservant, Agni, said while bowing hastily, "but Prince Soma wishes to speak with you."

"Well he can do it on his own time," Ciel replied tepidly, lifting his teacup. "I've got business to attend to, and I don't leave time for prattling princes."

"As you can see, Agni," The ever-present Sebastian Michaelis explained with a smile, "My Master is clearly hard at work. Can not another appointment be arranged?"

The Indian Priest opened his mouth to say something in return, but at that moment the parlor's doors were throw open with much fanfare.

"Ciel!" Prince Soma Asman Kadar exclaimed.

Lord Phantomhive shuddered and braced himself for the hug that was sure to follow, but to his pleasant surprise nothing ensued. He was permitted to sit at the little table and sip his tea without incident. Frankly, Ciel found himself bewildered.

Prince Soma dashed up to the table, nearly destroying Sebastian's teacart on his way. In his arms, the young Ruler carried a long rectangle wrapped in blue cloth and tied with a black ribbon.

"I'm so glad to be able to see you!" Soma continued breathlessly.

"What have you come to waste my time with now?" Ciel wondered flatly.

Soma grinned and presented his object by placing it firmly on the table, which trembled from the impact. Ciel's tea saucer wobbled dangerously, but did not chip. The Earl was quite reluctant to replace the cup afterwards.

"This is a gift," Began the Prince of Bengal, "it was recently sent to me by my brother in Persia."

"And why would I want your brother's gift? Didn't he mean for you to keep it?"

"I know that he did!" Soma snapped, causing Ciel to flinch. Now that our little Phantomhive looked closer, it appeared the Prince was quite anxious about something. "But I want to give it to you."

"Why?"

"We are friends, Ciel, correct? Is it the custom in England to be suspicious of your fellow when he offers you a present?"

At this point, Agni felt it necessary to step in. The green-robed Khansama spoke, saying:

"Excuse me, Lord Phantomhive, but in Bengal it is tradition for young men of nobility to exchange objects of great value once a year."

"Exactly!" Soma agreed helpfully.

"I see," Ciel murmured, a finger curling around his chin, "does this mean you are expecting me to supply you with an item as well?"

"Oh no," the Prince laughed, turning to leave, "do not trouble yourself, Ciel. I wanted only to fulfill my duty as a nobleman of India."

"Come, Agni!"

And with that, their visit concluded. Before Ciel could insist otherwise, the Prince and the Priest had exited the building and were gone from the estate.

Which left the Earl and his Butler at the tea table in the parlor, staring at a blue, vertical rectangle with a black bow on its top.

"Well," Sighed the little Lord in defeat, "I wish I could say this is the first time that this has happened to me."

"Indeed, my lord," Sebastian agreed solemnly. He then added, "What do you suppose we do with his gift?"

"Whatever you please. Break it, eat it, shove it in a wardrobe, give it away, I don't care. Just get it out of my sight."

"Yes, my young lord."

And so once the Master was safely tucked away in his office engaged in paperwork signing, the Butler removed the bow from the rectangle and carefully unwrapped the cloth.

The object so promptly bestowed upon the house of Phantomhive revealed itself to be a lovely carafe with a hand-carved lid. Its shape was curvaceous and smooth, and it appeared to be crafted from a form of dense glass. Unlike most of its kind, the decanter was painted. It was colored by a smoky shade of blue and speckled with an array of navy flowers. As he traversed the manor, Sebastian admired the finely placed brushstrokes.

When he reached the cellar, where the Butler had planned to store the vase in one of the many empty wine racks (as the Young Master did not care for such liquor), curiosity got the best of him. After all, the nature of a carafe is for the opening of the vessel to stay exposed to air. It seemed quite wrong for so beautiful a container to stay tight and clogged, even if the lid was expertly cast.

So, only seconds away from putting the decanter on a shelf and forgetting about it for the rest of time, Sebastian removed the top from the item.

The results were instantaneous. Smoke poured from the vase like blood from a wound, filling the cellar in moments. Sebastian wrinkled his nose as a strange, bitter scent met him. The Butler realized that had he been human, he would have coughed his lungs sore by this time.

A voice, female and eccentric, broke into the basement at high volume.

"Finally! I was wondering when you'd come to your senses!"

She giggled merrily, whoever she was, and the sound of it seemed to bounce from one cloud of smoke to the next.

"Stuffing me back into that dreadful container when all I want to do is help you. Really, what terrible manners you have, little prince."

Sebastian cleared his throat and announced, "I am afraid I am not your prince, milady."

"No?"

The mist finally began to clear, and floating in the corner of the wine cellar was precisely half of a young woman. Her upper torso (which was pale grey in color) draped itself in navy and lilac silks, threads that sparkled when they caught the light of the cellar's lamps. The maiden's face was soft featured and pleasant to look at. Sebastian surmised she would seem very lovely to the average Englishman, if it were not for the unnatural shape and color of her eyes.

"Oh my," Gasped the girl, approaching Sebastian curiously. As she lacked a body below the abdomen, she hovered around him several times before bringing herself face to face with him, propelled by a plume of smoke. "You are correct. You are not Prince Soma, nor are you his brother."

The Demon Butler narrowed his eyes as he inspected hers. They were a vivid, luminous blue. However, the pupils split them in the center- thin black lines striking through the irises vertically, like a cat's.

When Sebastian failed to say anything, the young woman let out another thrilled giggle.

"But that does not matter."

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Because you, sir, are my new master!"