Chapter 04
Into the Catacombs
Ciel Phantomhive needed time to digest that the Double Charles were in there. He was even more baffled to see Her Serene Highness sitting casually on the couch beside Phipps. The three of them looked expectantly at him, as though he was a dog that would do a trick anytime soon. When everything seemed so quiet and out of place, Almeison finally broke the silence by approaching Ciel and shaking his hand.
"Welcome to Rochester, Earl Phantomhive." She smiled at him, and then beamed to Sebastian. "Guten tag, Sebastian."
"Guten tag, Dame Coburg." Sebastian bowed to her.
"You must be tired," Phipps added, standing from the couch and gesturing the two newcomers to have a seat. Ciel sat on the couch parallel to Earl Grey, while Sebastian stood behind his master.
"I shall call the rest of the family." The old Frome butler excused himself.
"We meet again, Earl Phantomhive~" Charles Grey looked cheerful for such a dreary place. "Is it truly that surprising to see us here? You must remind yourself that the victim was my fiancée; it is my duty to send my deepest condolences." Yet he leaned back and yawned in boredom. "This manor isn't very lively, hm?"
"I'll say," Ciel agreed. He wondered if Grey actually cared for his fiancée. If what happened to Lady Frome happened to Elizabeth, Ciel was sure to hunt the killer and make him suffer. Moreover, the Midfords would not let their young daughter be harmed, let alone Edward, who loved and adored his little sister greatly.
"Have you met the little dove?" Grey prompted. "Anne-Sophie, I mean."
Ciel's single eye narrowed at the smirking silver-haired earl. "No, but I heard stories about her prior of my coming here. She is regarded as an extremely beautiful young lady." No, he never heard anything about that, but he supposed it was only a courtesy to compliment the lady who was raped and treated like a dog before she was murdered.
"She was talented in music," Grey went on, recalling how his little fiancée played the piano on their first meeting. He was captivated when she played Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, and was almost eager to marry her. "She laughed ever so softly, and had the habit of running her fingers through her brown hair," he remembered.
"A true noblewoman of our time," Phipps agreed.
Grey laughed it off. "Maybe, but she was no more than another little lady born to please her lord."
"Careful, Earl Grey," Ciel warned, as he heard several footsteps approaching. "Lady Frome is to be mourned, not insulted in her own home."
The doors creaked to announce the arrival of the family members.
A young man in his early twenties stepped forward, his light brown hair combed back. He wore black all over—tailcoat, pants, gloves, and boots—to indicate his period of mourning. But his cheerful hazel eyes scanned the drawing room, as if excited to have many visitors in their mansion.
"Nathaniel Frome," he introduced himself, as the Double Charles and Ciel went forward to greet him. "Thank you for your coming, especially you, Earl Grey. Annie was asking constantly for you in days. It is such a shame you were not there at her side when she died." A sad smile crossed his handsome face.
"I am very sorry for your loss," Grey answered.
Ciel stared at Grey, who had been smirking only a few moments ago. He is supposed to be mourning, he thought.
Beside Lord Frome, a little girl dressed in black and grey veil clutched her brother's gloved hand. She had the same brown hair and hazel eyes of her brother and deceased sister. Looking down at her, Grey was reminded of his supposed fiancée.
"This is Marianne," Nathaniel introduced his five-year-old sister.
"Hello, Marianne." Grey smiled charmingly down at her, but the little girl only hid further behind her brother's black coat.
Lord Frome chuckled. "Such a shy child. I am sorry, Earl Grey." His eyes darted to Almeison's direction, who did not stand up from the couch from which she sat.
Grey noticed that he was eyeing his companion, and went on to introduce her. "Her Ducal Serene Highness Almeison von Coburg, daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, and the niece of Prince Albert."
Hearing her name called out, Almeison went in front of Nathaniel and bowed a little. "My condolences, Lord Frome," she said.
"Thank you, Your Serene Highness." Nathaniel took her hand and kissed it.
More introductions ensued. Earl Phantomhive and his black-clad butler were introduced; Charles Phipps stepped forward to introduce himself as one of the Secretarial Officers. At length, Grey rolled his eyes and looked exasperated.
"Can we now start the investigation? I would want to know how my beloved was mistreated, and so that we can hunt the suspect down," he offered, feigning a dramatic and distressed sigh.
"Of course." Nathaniel Frome uneasily replied, and nodded to his butler. "Rickard, lead the way, if you would please."
Rickard went off. "Then please, ladies and gentlemen, follow me to the catacombs."
"Catacombs?" Ciel asked suspiciously.
Nathaniel smiled, expecting such a reaction. "As you can see, Earl Phantomhive, Rochester is a completely historical city. Our tourist attractions are mainly historical, even our architectures are still inspired by the Middle Ages. The Frome mansion itself is inspired by that—our family keeps underground tunnels and escape routes, and catacombs for dead family members."
The group traversed through the old hallways of the mansion. The entrance to the catacombs was located at the corner of the vast kitchen, with a large boulder serving as the doors. Rickard stepped forward to roll the boulder to the side. A cold howling of the wind emerged from the dark tunnel. Little Marianne clung to her brother tightly; Grey gulped and squeezed himself between Phipps and Almeison; Ciel took a deep breath and glanced at Sebastian.
"This way please." Rickard took three burning torches and gave the other two to Grey and Sebastian.
Lord Frome looked at them. "Ready to go?"
"Definitely," Ciel answered.
And they went down into the catacombs.
For some reason, water was dripping from the ceiling of the cave. Rickard went on to explain that somewhere in the underground tunnel, there was a river which flowed directly to the River Medway. The walls of the tunnel first seemed like ordinary walls with undetermined turns and corners, with sharp stalactites and stalagmites scattered around.
"How long has this tunnel been down here, Lord Frome?" Phipps questioned, holding the torch higher to get better view. His other hand guided Almeison around the tunnel, making sure that she would not slip on the slippery floor.
"Hundreds of years." Nathaniel smiled back.
"And why did you choose this place to keep your younger sister's corpse?" Ciel questioned this time.
"A family custom," he answered curtly.
"Did the local Scotland Yard start the investigation on their own? Where did they find Lady Anne-Sophie's corpse?" Ciel continued.
"At a forest not so far from here. Anne's been out to celebrate a party in her friend's house. She is to stay overnight there, but she suddenly turned up dead on the next three mornings." His hazel eyes showed his deepest regrets. "The bloodhounds caught her scent, which led the Scotland Yard to her reeking body. She was naked from head to toe, her long hair cut from the scalp, and a burn stamped across her left back."
"What kind of burn?" Almeison asked out of curiosity.
"I don't understand what it is supposed to mean."
"Does the Scotland Yard have any leads yet?" Phipps asked.
"Not much. They are currently questioning Anne's friend."
Suddenly, Rickard halted.
"Are we here?" Grey blinked.
During their conversation, they had never noticed that the cave wall shifted into polished walls, painted in dark green. Instead of torches, lamps and candles already hung on the walls and ceilings. The once slippery floor was now solid and tiled, adorned with patterns of flowers. Several paintings hung on the walls as well, of the previous family members who had lived in the Frome mansion.
In the middle of the room, there was a green casket with golden filigrees, surrounded by bouquets of red and white roses. Golden candelabrums were on either side of the casket. Behind it, picture frames and wardrobes lined up. Anne-Sophie's personal belongings—dresses, jewelleries, and brushes—were piled up in one corner.
It was the creepiest shrine for the dead all of them had seen.
Only Sebastian smiled enigmatically, clearly enjoying the revelation.
He's insane, Ciel observed.
"You keep her in... there?" Grey pointed incredulously at grand casket.
"A family custom," Nathaniel Frome said once more in his defence. "There are other caskets like this in the other rooms. If we have time, I will show you one by one. But this is where I keep my sister, and I will not bury her without learning who murdered her."
The atmosphere in the room turned gloomy.
"May I see the burned stamp you are referring to, Lord Frome?" Almeison interjected. She was clinging on Phipps's arm the whole time, and pressed herself closer to him upon seeing the underground shrine of Anne-Sophie Frome.
Nathaniel smiled his charming smile again, much to Grey's irritation.
"Rickard, please open the casket." He patted his little sister's head, and said softly, "Close your eyes, Marie."
Marianne nodded obediently and closed her eyes.
The old butler grunted and reached out to open the door of the casket. A reeking scent emerged, which prompted the visitors, except Sebastian, to cover their noses. Almeison buried her face on Phipps's back, trying to get the foul smell out of her nose.
As expected, Charles Grey and Ciel Phantomhive stepped toward the casket.
The beautiful Anne-Sophie Frome was barely recognizable. There were only few locks left from her dark brown hair; her head shaved seemingly in a rush. Her neck was still red from the evident bite marks of the suspect; her cheeks and shoulders dappled with faded bruises. Her once red lips were now cold and pale. She wore pink dress within her green casket, with her lower body completely concealed by a white blanket.
This is not how she wanted to be remembered, Grey thought.
He barely knew his fiancée, but he knew she had a good heart. Despite her knack for her beauty and gossips, Anne-Sophie was a family woman, and cared so much for her brother and sister. Even if he did not want to marry her, she could have chosen another man who deserved her love and attention. She wished for children and a good house, to have a loving husband at her side; not to be raped and treated lower than a dog.
"You said something about a burned stamp?" Ciel prompted, looking away from the cold corpse. He had seen enough dead people, and Anne-Sophie was no different at all.
"Yes, of course. But it would be disrespectful to strip her of her dress and roll her in the casket." Nathaniel shook his head. "I will not allow it, but I do have a copy of the stamp in my office. I will give it to you, Earl Phantomhive, if you want."
It was not what Ciel wanted to hear, but he had nothing else to do but agree. "Very well. We leave Lady Frome in her temporary grave. Let us leave the catacombs already."
Rickard turned his heels once again to lead the nobles out of the reeking catacombs. Charles Grey took one final glance at his fiancée, before Lord Frome himself hurriedly shut the door of the casket. Grey raised an eyebrow when he saw Almeison clinging on to Phipps's arm, as though the two were already close friends.
Once outside the catacombs, Grey flopped on the couch and heaved a heavy sigh.
"Man, I thought a ghost or two would appear!" He certainly did not like the idea of Anne-Sophie's ghost lingering around.
Almeison sat beside him, shaking her head. "Scary downstairs, but it was fun. Right, Phipps?"
"Indeed." Phipps took the seat parallel to the pair. He paused briefly to watch Ciel and Sebastian follow Nathaniel Frome towards the other room. When the three of them were out of his sight, he leaned closer to his companions and whispered, "What shall we do next? Lord Frome is clearly hiding something from us."
"And why not?" Grey shrugged and laid his feet on the table. "He didn't even tell us he's going to serve Earl Grey tea to accommodate us," he sarcastically continued. With his left foot, he knocked the teapot, spilling its contents on the wooden table and marbled floor.
"Will you stop it with your Earl Grey tea issues?" Almeison sighed exasperatedly.
Grey glared at her. "And what do you want to hear from me? Mourn for the little brat? No, I don't do that, Your Serene Highness." He spat her titles like they were poison. "Mind your own business."
"I will mind my own business and I will do it without your help."
Phipps pinched the bridge of his nose, as Grey and Almeison began to argue and throw insults at each other.
"Stop glaring at me, you twerp!" She shouted at him.
"Oh, it's down to name-calling now, huh?" Grey looked bemused. "I'll beat you at your own game, loser."
Almeison gasped for a moment, and then called, "Airhead!"
"Nincompoop!"
"Lunatic!"
"Ha! You can be the Duchess of Dork!"
"And you're the Earl of Nerdville!"
Grey jerked up from his seat. "I am not a nerd!"
"Sure, you are! Anyway, smartass!"
"Back off, you klutz."
"Shut up, nerd."
"Ugly!"
"Schwachkopf!"
"Don't you speak German against me! What was that supposed to mean?!"
Finally, Charles Phipps held up his hands to indicate silence. The arguing pair instantly fell silent. "Are we done?"
Almeison immediately smiled. "I do believe we are. Please continue."
"Alright." Phipps cleared his throat and continued to whisper, "What do we plan on doing? Her Majesty made it clear that Earl Phantomhive should resolve the rape case on his own. But what of our mission?"
"Our mission is to simply investigate the Frome family," Grey answered as if it was the easiest answer in the world. "With Nathaniel breaking apart after Anne's death, I'm sure information will drop sooner or later." He smirked at Almeison's direction. "Right, Allie?"
She shrugged. "Either way, I will end up involved, am I not?"
"Indeed," Phipps agreed. "You know how to manoeuvre your way through people, as Her Majesty reassured us the other day. Do you think you can handle Lord Frome?"
"Of course," Almeison answered confidently. "You can have the servants. None of them seem interesting to me. I only need a brief background of everyone in the household. You two shall provide it for me, while the Watchdog is busy sniffing the suspect's trails."
"Are you sure?" Grey suddenly looked concerned. "I mean, can you handle Nathaniel Frome? Judging from our past reports, he has a hobby of hunting game in the woods, accompanied by his bloodhounds. He has eccentric taste in hunting, I am telling you."
"So? What's your point?"
"My point is: it is dangerous to handle him alone."
Almeison laughed. "Oh, come on, Charles. I've handled a German Kaiser before. What makes you think I can't handle a simple weirdo from Rochester?"
The room was filled with stuffed animals, ranging from wolves to badgers. Taxidermy heads of moose and deer hung on each corner of the chamber. A family of stuffed tigers were gathered at the farthermost corner of the place—two adult tigers and three cubs. A rhinoceros horn was encased within a glass box; a mounted Dwarf lanternshark was standing by his wooden desk. The iron fireplace was flanked by two mounted wolves, both grey and almost alive; their fangs were bared, as if ready to pounce on anyone who entered the room.
Ciel and Sebastian stared in both awe and suspicion.
"Please, come inside," Nathaniel offered. He passed through several of his collections, most of which he successfully hunted and killed from different forests in England.
"You have rather strange interests, Lord Frome," Ciel observed, as he reached out for the stuffed wolf beside the fireplace. The fur felt warm and soft, almost alive. For a moment, he thought the wolf's grey eyes moved.
Nathaniel chuckled. "Many people say that. I have been interested in hunting since I was a child. That sparrow over there is my first kill." He pointed his index finger towards the mounted brown sparrow at the top of his bookshelf.
"Did Lady Anne have the same interests?" Sebastian asked.
"Barely," Nathaniel replied, running a hand through his thick brown hair. "My sister is more interested in city gossips, and the arts and music."
Seeing all the stuffed animals made Ciel's stomach swirl.
"You mentioned something about showing us the burn stamp found on Lady Anne's back?"
"That's right." Nathaniel went to his wooden desk and rummaged through the compartments. He pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper and gave it to Ciel for inspection. "It is only a rough drawing from one of the Scotland Yard artists," he said.
Ciel took his time on analyzing the image in front of him. The stamp showed a snake biting its own tail to make a ring. He had never seen such symbol before. Thus, he held up the paper to give his butler a better look.
"A snake," Sebastian murmured thoughtfully. "Snakes are interpreted differently in hundreds of cultures."
"But a snake biting its own tail?" Ciel scoffed and looked at Nathaniel Frome. "I think I know where to start."
Author's Notes: Ah, forgive me for not updating in a month! I barely had the time to rewrite and edit the draft. I hope this one compensates for the long wait! I should also mention that most of the insults above are not used during the Victorian Era. I used it simply for the purposes of humour.
*InLuvWithCandy - Thank you very much! I love your name! XD
*Emmanuel Park - To hell with Grey's fiancée! LOL. I'm glad you're excited for the story! Thank you! *returns the thumbs-up*
*Mizuhara Yukie - Yup, I think Queen Victoria wants to play matchmaker, with her eyes set on Allie and Grey! It'd be fun if she does so. Writing Grey throwing a tantrum in their office was an opportunity I can't miss. He would have destroyed everything in his path, but would definitely calm down when food is offered to him. LOL. Thank you for the review!