"Your Highness…"

A whisper, blurred in the darkness, forcing sticky eyes to open.

"It's time to wake up."

Alois yawned, stretching. Wasn't it funny how sleep felt like just a momentary pause where you go to bed feeling alright and wake up feeling shitty? Human beings were built so stupidly. Just another example of how God didn't give a single fuck.

"Do demons need to sleep, Claude?" Alois mumbled through another yawn. Shoving a hand into his eye, he twisted it back and forth as he listened.

"We can…" Claude stated, dryly. Bending down, he awaited Alois to twist his body round to begin undressing him. "But it is a luxury."

Alois sighed, about to bug him a little more when… He froze up. A sharp exhale of breath as he slowly realized what was different. Tears blurred his vision, so he quickly rubbed them off.

"… It's so beautiful."

The room, his room, had been transformed. No more gaudy red and gold. No more portraits of that mad jester dancing on a hill around a thousand little naked boys. Nothing like that at all. Now everything was purple, purple and blue and soft, so soft.

Even the bedsheets… he looked down, pulling the covers up across his chest. No more silky gold, mixed with little boy blood. Now it was blue, with just a few little strips of gold. A reminder, maybe, Claude? Or just a signature, your signature, like your eyes?

"You did this… instead of sleeping?" Alois smiled, beamed, even. His eyelashes stuck together, thin and wet.

"Yes. A butler must never rest, his job never finished." Claude reached up, impatient, starting to undo Alois' buttons. "The whole manor has been transformed. Memories into nothings, reds into blues, endings into beginnings, that's what makes a Trancy butler."

"Is that your motto?" Alois spat, watching those buttons unfurl in his swift, neat hands. "How long did it take you to make that up?"

A pause, his nightshirt pulled up and over his head. "Would you prefer I did not say it?" He folded the shirt, turning to collect the rest of Alois' clothing.

"No, I just think it's awfully childish. A little pretentious, maybe." He leaned forwards, curious. "So, how did you do all this, then? Spider-magic?"

"I did it by your word." He held open a fresh shirt, slipping it up Alois' arms. "Your word is my command, that, You Highness, is the true magic."

"Hmm…" He shuffled into the shirt, straightening his back and yawning again. "Undo the shirt, redo the shirt." He glanced down, cold eye focussing on him. "Why don't I just run around in my jammies? It's not like I'm going to be doing anything today, anyway."

"Untrue, your Highness." Slipping on Alois' trousers, he ignored the pointed toe wiggle. "Today will be your first day as Earl Trancy." Socks… he grabbed one, stretching it open. "Which means your lessons will begin."

"Lessons?" Alois groaned, tipping his head back. "I don't need an education, Claude. I already know everything." He tilted his head back down, flicking his tongue out. "I have you don't I? And you can do anything I want with just a few little words." Another stretch, pointing his fingers up to the sky. "And I already know about that bastard Ciel and his ugly, stupid, vicious butler. So….what else would I ever have to learn?"

Finishing adjusting the last sock, Claude rolled on the balls of his feet, standing. "There will be many who suspect you, Your Highness. They will expect you to have the knowledge suited to one raised with your class and status."

Alois groaned again, flopping over. "That's so stupid." Staring up at the ceiling, he smiled, noticing all the pretty cracks were gone. "Why do the rich even care? Shouldn't they be… I don't know, doing what rich people are supposed to do and lazing around all day? Who cares about latin or violins or whatever stupid crap you're going to shove down my mouth."

"Not I, your Highness. I will arrange for tu-"

"NO." Alois squirmed back up, fingers driving into his knees. "NO, no one else!" He started shaking, rage blooming. "No one else is going to teach me other than YOU."

"… Your Highness, they woul-"

"Are you talking back to me, Claude? Our contract is that I wanted you, not you and a bunch of plebby, desperate tutors."

"… My apologies. If I am to be your educator as well as your butler, then I insist that I have some help."

"Insist?" Alois hissed, narrowing his eyes. "You can redecorate an entire house overnight, and you need help?"

"It is a standard for Butlers of this age…"

Alois sighed, pushing himself off the bed.

"Fine. But they better not be human. I don't want to interact with humans ever again." He bent over, grabbing his boots and returning to the bed to start to put them on. "You can handle that, can't you Claude? A few demon friends running around the house?" Alois smirked, smiling back up at him.

Claude paused at this, as though weighing up if it was worth arguing. Noticing that smile turn back into a frown, he finally answered. "Yes, your Highness."


"So, who is the tart?" Alois sighed, leaning back, eyes narrowing towards the woman in the maid outfit. "Just look how huge her tits are, Claude!" He turned, glaring at him. "Is that why you hired her, so you could have a little fun on the side?"

"No." He stepped towards her, her head tilted down. "This is Hannah Annafellows. She is quite the infamous demon…" He looked over towards the gaggle of other servants. "And with her, she brings a cook, steward and gardener in tow." He paused, "I believe she will be useful, your Highness."

"Does it look like I need a prostitute, Claude?!" His fingers tightened around the handle of his seat, knuckles going white. Every time he even looked at her, he bubbled with rage. There was so much pathetic hurt in her stupid blue eyes. She looked like some kind of cow miserably waiting to be branded. "Can she even smile?"

Jumping out of his seat, he stomped towards her – lifting his hands to her face. But, before he even touched her skin, she smiled.

"Master… I can smile. I can do anything you ask from me."

"Shut up, I didn't ask you to talk, you stupid bitch." Alois kicked her shin, angrily. And again. And again. "Don't you dare stop smiling!" He yelled, laughed, kicked again. Somehow, somehow, with her on the ground, writhing like that – with those big, blue, sad eyes and that forced smile, somehow it just felt so good. Like she deserved it. Every kick provoked another laugh. "We've just met and you'll already smile no matter what I do to you? How pathetic are you?"

"Your Highness…"

"What, what is it Claude?" He whipped around, giving one last kick. "Are you getting jealous? Protective of your little whore concubine?"

"Your Highness, Hannah's use is far greater than that of a hole." Claude stepped forwards, putting out a hand as Hannah sighed, pulling herself up, breathing heavily.

"What are you talking about..?" Alois felt something shift in him, and he took a step back. "A hole?"

"Yes, your Highness, Hannah Annafellows is indeed a hole. But she has another function…" He lifted his fingers, brushing his nails against her skin. "Just another name, perhaps… but a name I am far more interested in."

Holes. Holes. Always holes. Alois' eyes turned wide and cold, watching in horror as Claude swept his fingers over her lips. Her mouth trembled, opening. And then he… he stuck his fingers in there, like he was going to fuck her throat with his hands. Alois stepped back, whispering, "C…Claude… wha…" But then he drove his hand deep into her, his entire arm. Hannah started making the most horrible noises, just these wines and sharp, pained moans.

And then…

He pulled out that sword.

"Lævateinn, the demon sword." Claude said, swinging it down and shaking off salvia. Hannah gasped for air, covering her mouth and trying to suppress a cough. "You see, your Highness…" Claude smirked ever so slightly, faintly ghosting his free hand across Hannah's cheek. "Hannah is much more than a hole. She is a sheathe."

"So... that thing, it will…" Alois pointed a shaking hand towards the sword, his heart bursting in his chest.

"Yes. It will kill Sebastian, the demon who consumed young Luka Macken's soul." Another stroke against Hannah's cheek, her face dulling, her mouth tightening into a frown. "But it must be kept in its proper place, inside the demon sheath."

Shuddering, Alois finally managed a nod. "Then… she can stay. As well as the rest of you." He glanced over at the trio of demons who hadn't stopped nattering quietly to themselves this entire time. "You're now under my control, and will do anything I or Claude wants, understand?" He tilted his head, staring at that long, green thing again. "Or you'll end up on the end of that sword." A weak addition, almost, as he turned and stormed out the room.

"Claude, hurry up and run me a bath."


Naked, warm. So warm.

"Wherever did you find demons like that? Aren't they just going to stab you in the back at the first opportunity?" Alois asked, watching Claude scrub away at his arm.

"No. They are obedient. Hannah is completely subservient, she will cause us no trouble."

Alois uttered a soft "tch" before submerging his scrubbed arm back into the water. "She's still a stupid tart."

"Does her presence bother you that much, your Highness?"

Alois paused at this, letting Claude start on his back. "Yes. I don't like her. There's just something about her. Maybe she just smells different. You understand, don't you, Claude?"

Claude had the tiniest reaction to this, jut the curves of his lips twitching ever so slightly. "Somewhat. She does seem to have a hole for a brain." Yet… He suddenly sharped his eyes, noticing a spot on Alois' back. Touching a bare finger to it, he encircled the flaw. This imperfection on otherwise smooth skin. Like a wrinkle in the carpet. …Her obsession for him was fascinating.

Alois straightened his back to this, suddenly happy that Claude was going to bitch with him like a dithery hen-wife. "Good. You don't find her attractive, then?"

"I have told you…" He lathered soap down his spine, over his ribs. "That flesh does not excite me. Not anymore."

Alois lifted his hands, watching water slip through his fingers.

"Anymore?"

Leaning back, he tilted his head, gazing at Claude. "So you'll wash my dick, then?"

Claude paused at this, narrowing his brows. "Do you mean to punish me?"

"Punish? Claude, most people would think this a treat, getting to wash a little boy's dick." He pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth. "It's not going to excite anything in you, anyway. So you don't have to feel like your sick, fucked up paedophile! It'll just be like scrubbing a sausage!"

Claude paused, hovering the washcloth over his stomach like a kestrel, stuck.

Until Alois finally burst out laughing.

"I was joking, you idiot. I can scrub my own dick. Now hurry u-" Alois twitched, gasped, and finally slapped Claude across the face, hard. "What the FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He suddenly felt dirty and black and bruised all over, dirty and filthy and like he'd just poisoned the bath.

"I was only follo-"

"FUCK YOU." Alois wailed, shrieked, curled in on himself. Splashed, splish splish. He'd never get the feeling of butler-hand-through-cloth off his dick, now. "Go, go… Go get my clothes."

Breathing heavily, he shut his eyes, listening to the click of the door and whatever Claude had mumbled. No, no. He was just following orders. Exactly what he'd just told him. It was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

Swallow once. Swallow twice. Stop thinking about the imaginary pain in your arse. Shhh, shh, shh. It's all a silly joke, now.

When Claude came back with his night clothes, Alois got dressed silently. In fact, he didn't talk to him again, not until he was back in bed.

"Have you been practicing your singing?" Alois finally asked, breaking the silence in two. And then Claude leaned in, very close, right against his ear. And he sang. Sang in that low, husky voice of his. Sang darkly and deeply with his throat, all about the incy wincy little spider, and Alois clung to him and wept into his shoulder.

"Come now, your Highness," he whispered when he wished, laying the boy back down into his bed. "You're beginning to make crying yourself to sleep into a habit. You will cry your soul right out." He wiped those tears away with his gloved thumb, causing Alois to finally sigh and relax.

"I'm sorry Claude, we can't be having that." He begged the burning in his eyes to stop. "You'd go very hungry if that happened, wouldn't you?"

"Very," he repeated, rubbing away the last.

How strange. How strange this all was.

Alois closed his sticky eyes together. At least he felt okay, now. And anyway, never mind, he'd feel even shitter in the morning.