A/N: Hey there, guys! Sorry it's been so long since it's updated. College is such a drag sometimes, and my sleeping schedule is all sorts of backwards right now, haha. But I did this over the break, so now I bring to you and update! :D I do hope you enjoy it -bows-

The title of this chapter comes from a song by Vermilion Lies (another artist to join the cabaret group, albeit a bit on the lighter side~). I think since this was the first meeting of Oswald and Jack, it was appropriate if you gave his a lighter feel :B

3rd Arrangement: Shady

Jack was prompted to his feet, nearly yanked up by his capturer as the guards parted to let in King Glen Baskerville. Immediately Jack's verdant gaze lowered to the polished stone ground, mindlessly tracing over the tiles to ignore the fact that he was being approached by the most powerful man in Sablier, arguably the whole nation. With each step that echoed in the room, Jack felt his resolve get smaller and smaller, all his usual confidence going out the door.

A pair of black boots stopped a few feet from him. Jack could make out the black drapery of a cloak beneath the flowing waterfall of the royal red Baskerville robe. Without any prompting, before the guard could hiss in his ear, Jack managed a graceful bow, his braid falling over his shoulder.

"Your Majesty," he said in a voice that luckily didn't betray any of his nerves. He stayed like that for a moment, feeling it wouldn't be right to rise just yet, and no one was prompting him to do so. Awkwardly, Jack stayed in that bowed state, hot chills running through his body.

I can...feel it. I can feel his eyes on me.

Of course, Jack wasn't referring to the guard who brought him in, but Glen Baskerville. I'm not even looking at him, but I can feel his eyes...piercing right into me...

Then a voice, deep and soft, like some rich velvet, asked, "This is truly one of them then?"

"Yes, sir, saw the mark myself," Jack's guard replied with a pleased tone. Jack tried hard not to let any amount of horror cross his expression. But how could he not be full of fear? The mark could mean only one thing and Jack was running it through his mind, of why on earth the King of Sablier would want anything to do with a prostitute.

It hit him all at once and he felt a hot blush darken his face.

A white-gloved hand came into his field of vision and gestured for Jack to rise. When the blond righted himself, he still kept his eyes downcast, terrified of what would happen should he gaze upon the king's face. A beat of silence followed until the velvet voice murmured, "You all may leave us."

The surprise was palpable in the air. Even Jack jumped, snapping his head up to look at King Glen with wide eyes. Would this be so soon? Here? Hundreds of questions ran through Jack's mind, but he couldn't bring himself to make any of them come out of his mouth. Not with the sight of that face, framed with straight, jet-black hair. He had only seen the monarch's face in passing, never really looking upon it, and he supposed he hadn't expected someone so...handsome and calm.

Glen Baskerville had an angular face, pale skin and untense violet eyes that were narrow and vibrant. His whole countenance didn't show any particular emotion of distress or excitement as the other guards were displaying in their eyes. At first glance, he seemed uninterested even, but Jack could see how much those violet eyes were focused on him, right below his jaw and somewhere near his collar...

Jack was snapped out of his gawking when the guard behind him exclaimed, "M-my king! Should this criminal dare try to harm you-!"

A hand was held up for silence, even as those eyes hadn't torn away from Jack's form.

"I am more than capable of handling myself," King Glen said meaningfully. "You may all leave us. Guard outside if you are so inclined."

"I..." Each of the men hesitated before finally nodding, filing out of the room in an orderly fashion with a clank of armor. Jack's own guard gave one last look of warning straight at the blond before closing the door. The rustle of chainmail went on for a second more before stopping.

Jack could only stand the silence for so long. Quickly, he bowed again. "Your Majesty, I confess, I know I am but a-"

"No, please, let me talk," the dark-haired man said, loosely crossing his arms, hands at his elbows. For a king, he only seemed to wear the barest hints of apparel and accessory of his position. He wore no jewelry, had on his head no crown. There were onyx studs in his ears, but that seemed to be the sum of it besides the royal Baskerville cloak over his shoulders.

King Glen turned, slowly walking over to the other side of the table, taking a seat opposite Jack. The casual yet elegant manner of the man confused Jack slightly, and he stared blankly, slowly glancing down again.

"You may sit."

Trying not to jump, Jack nodded energetically and plopped himself back in his chair. When there was nothing but silence and Jack's blood rushing in his ears, he finally worked up the courage to look back up to the face of the monarch of Sablier.

If Jack thought he was being pierced into before, it didn't compare to actually returning that violet gaze. It was as if that gaze had hands, much the same way with his stalker, and was searching deep in him. Violated mercilessly - yet this was also different, but Jack was to frozen in fear to look deeper into the matter.

King Glen tilted his head slightly. "I presume you know why you're here," he said slowly.

The heat rushed to Jack's cheeks again. He glanced over at the door where the guards were surely standing. Could they hear all this? Finally, he nodded. "I've never...provided my services to someone of Your Majesty's standing, however."

"Yes, most monarchs wouldn't go down to the level of one of your kind," admitted the dark-haired man.

"Your kind." Even that guard from before had claimed Jack to be a "criminal," as if he had murdered someone. He knew that being a prostitute was far from the highest looked-upon profession, but a job was a job. Even a royally-appointed officer couldn't deny his pleasures of the flesh - and apparently, so couldn't a king.

Puffing up his chest, Jack held his head up higher and, voice stronger, said, "Pardon me, my king, but what you think of my job doesn't matter when you called up for someone such as me."

The expression on the dark-haired man's face didn't change, although his eyes gleamed slightly. Jack took it to be a glare and shrank back slightly. Keeping the scowl from his countenance, the blond flushed a little, verdant gaze sweeping over the man opposite him. "Although I am surprised... Your Majesty did not toss me out on the spot when he found I am not a woman."

Lashes, dark and long, ghosted over violet eyes as King Glen blinked. "I'm not sure what you mean, but I cannot throw you out. As of now, you are working under your new client - me." He rose up from his seat then, gloved hand slowly working over the crimson folds of the Baskerville robe so that it fell onto the chair. Jack started at the slow but sudden action, wondering if he should start getting undressed as well.

"My, um, king-"

"You may address me as simply 'Glen' when we're alone," the dark-haired man said as he walked over to Jack's side of the table. He didn't give the blond another look as he came towards him...before walking past Jack completely to the bookshelf behind him.

A breath Jack hadn't known he'd been holding left him. What just...

Jack was silent. The air in the room had suddenly become quite different, and not in the way the blond had thought it would. Clearly, the king didn't mean to have him brought here because for any of Jack's usual use to others. Still, what other "service" could he possibly provide? He was but a peasant, low as they come. And...and that guard had clearly said something about a mark!

When Glen came back, he was holding a book in his hands, crimson with golden, glossy letters over it. He settled the book before Jack and looked down at it, his black hair creating a curtain around his face as a hand traced over the cover of the book like it was precious treasure. Quietly, he said, "I presume...you know about my younger sister, Lacie Baskerville? About eighteen years ago, in addition to the deaths of our previous monarchs, she was taken away. This festival takes place in honor of her, and of everything else lost on that day."

At a loss for anything else appropriate to say, Jack nodded. "Yes, sire," he said solemnly. "I know well about Your Ma-um, Glen's loss."

"What you don't know is what I saw, however," Glen said. He lifted his head slowly, one violet eye glittering beneath the parting of black hair. "Unless you've somehow investigated that too?"

Still more than confused, the blond thought it best to stick to short sentences. "I couldn't have, G...Glen." To be on these familiar terms with the king - Jack, a lowly prostitute! What things he'd have to tell Miranda - should he ever see her again...

Violet gaze lowered. "Yes. You couldn't." The book was opened with a creak and Jack saw that it was no book at all, but a sort of box, a false book with not pages of a story or history within. Inside this box were many crumpled pieces of parchment, some with drawings, some in lettering Jack couldn't decipher. And there, right on the top was a picture of Lacie Baskerville.

Like Glen, Jack had never particularly gazed upon the face of the princess before. He only knew any of the royal family from portraits. Public events in which the Baskervilles had part in were events he usually avoided. Yet this young girl, cheeks a little round and fully pink, eyes wide and ruby-red... Yes, he was quite certain she was the lost princess named Lacie Baskerville.

With a shuffle of papers, Glen pulled out one particular piece of parchment and held it up close to him so that Jack couldn't see what was on it.

"There was something I saw. Something that most passed off as a trick of eyes by a child under a spell," explained Glen, eyes narrowing slightly in what seemed like pain. He was suddenly somewhere else, within the realm of his memories and not fully seeming to be talking to Jack when he spoke again.

"A creature. Something I never gazed upon before. Shrouded in darkness - tangible, moving darkness that appeared like liquid, but also gas. It was radiating majick. And there's one more thing." Glen put the piece of parchment down and before Jack, but his hand still covered most of what was on it. "It had eyes. Right within that mass of darkness, was a pair of eyes. That creature is what took Lacie. I saw it."

Jack was growing frightened. The calm demeanor he was introduced to before seemed to slowly be fading. Glen's brow was creased with worry, and his fingers were twitching over the paper as if wanting to crumple it up. Quietly, he murmured, "Sire?"

With a sharp shake of his head, Glen had reigned himself in some. "I have brought you here for one reason, Jetrose thief. I have but one goal to accomplish with you. Please...will you help me?" he asked, voice coming to a cadence.

Jack started, the very floor seeming to have gone, threatening for him to fall.

A thief? The mark! It hadn't made sense to Jack that they had gone on about a mark yet never once seemed to have gazed upon his tattoo. More than once, they had been looking at the necklace he wore, with the symbol he knew nothing of, knew not of what it signified. So this was what all this had been about!

The man he had stolen this from had been a thief. A thief a part of an underground, but no less notorious, band called Jetrose. Jack had never known much about them, except that they existed. They were like a legend, and to Jack, nothing more than a tale. But...

His hand slowly drew up to his collar, fingertips brushing against the silver pendant upon it. The symbol was that of a rose, black and threatening to all, thorns on every side. Oh. Oh dear. Jack felt his stomach plummet. This wasn't right, he had no right to be here. Glen expected a thief. A great thief, at that! Jack could pick-pocket and swindle for sure, but he had no reputation for it!

Ah! But that was... Slowly, and very carefully so that his true nature could not somehow be betrayed in his eyes (how did a thief go about looking at another person?), Jack looked up to meet Glen's gaze. "Glen, why do you need a Jetrose thief? You're a man of power - surely you have the means to obtain whatever you desired, and in a less...questionable way?"

Glen gave him a contemplative look then shook his head. "What I need isn't something people believe exists," he confessed and removed his hand from the parchment.

On the page was a picture of a creature that was exactly as Glen had described. Jack's brows furrowed as he took in this...thing of smoke and swirls and all black. It was like a cloud, but also like a wild waterfall. How something on a flat page could look so much like a real-life illusion fascinated Jack. And then there, yes, were almond-shaped slits that definitely looked to be eyes.

Jack's eyes roamed the rest of the page, but found nothing on it, not even words or symbols. Gingerly taking the parchment, Jack looked it over. On one side was a series of uneven, fraying lines. Clearly it had once been a page in a book, but someone had torn it out.

"What am I looking at exactly?" Jack said quietly. Despite the fact he had no business there and should he attempt this charade that was clearly out of his league, he would likely be killed...Jack could not help but show interest. This was a part of Lacie's kidnapping he had never heard of. And this monster was something he had never cast eyes upon, not in any fairytale he knew of.

As he went through more papers, Glen said, "What you're looking at is what has come to be known as 'Abyss'."

"Abyss...," muttered Jack. The very picture could swallow him whole if it were so inclined - or so was the impression the blond received from it. Yes, Abyss indeed. "But what is it, sire? What would it want with the Princess Lacie?"

"I have taken the liberty of doing most of your research for you, as I've been longng to see my sister again everyday for these eighteen years," Glen admitted languidly, dipping his hand into the contents of the book-box. Jack didn't have a chance to comment or reach out in concern before more papers were being placed in front of him.

"Abyss is a creature of myth. Truly, it cannot even be considered a 'creature,' as it has no distinct characteristics of 'living' - it does not eat, it does not breathe, it has no earthly reasons for being, yet it still is," Glen began to explain. He turned and sat on the table, crossing his legs. Jack momentarily looked up at the feminine posture, glancing at the tautly stretch of black fabric over thighs...

One of Glen's fingers tapped one of the papers and Jack quickly got it out to examine it. "That is because it is not one of the usual mythical creatures of this world. It is of it's own world, and once it was contained in something I'm sure you've heard of - it's known as 'Pandora's Box'."

"The box that holds chaos? It holds...Abyss?" Jack pieced together slowly.

"Held," corrected Glen easily. "It's no longer inside the Box. Because a long time ago, before any of us or our ancestors were born, it was released. Abyss doesn't wish to return to it's container, and so for thousands of years, it has been hopping from one human vessel to another, to live."

There was nothing on the pages that Jack could decipher. Languages he had only ever dabbled in, languages he had no idea how to begin to identify... There were more drawings, mostly of Abyss, each in some different style, but those slant of eyes were always a constant. There was a drawing of Abyss hovering over the form of a helpless sleeping woman who appeared to be having a nightmare. Unnerved, Jack placed that page down and said, "So you think perhaps...Abyss took the young princess to be its vessel?"

Glen nodded, hands on his lap. "This is what I believe."

Jack made a low humming sound. The light outside was fading fast. Soon even the sunset would be over and it would be night. Oz and Ada... His siblings were still out there without him, and he had no idea what they were doing at that instant. He had to go back, had to reunite with them and end this charade.

"Your job is to find Pandora's Box, Jack," said Glen suddenly, voice stronger than it had been this whole time. When Jack looked up at him in shock, he was frightened to see that the dark-haired man was quite serious. "I want you to steal it for me."

A loud creak and drag of wood sounded in the room as Jack moved his chair back, eyes wide in horror. "Y-Your Majesty? You don't honestly think I could-! That is," he stopped himself, looking at the pages scattered on the table, all of Abyss, "you don't truly believe this, do you? Abyss is but a myth, you said it yourself, sire! Princess Lacie wouldn't be taken by such a thing, she couldn't!"

Oh, was the king mad or something? To believe in such tales... Yet Glen did not appear as someone who would be so sincere about such matters concerning his sister if they were not truly real.

Glen tilted his head again, not angry or offended by Jack's abrupt action. "I can see...you are overwhelmed," he said in a low voice, glancing away, catching the blond by surprise. Glen slid down from the table and went back to his seat to put his robe back on. "Please, let one of my servants take you to your room."

Jack flustered, hardly knowing how to process this even more surprising information. "M-my room, Your-um, Glen?" he repeated. "You mean for me to stay here, i-in the castle?" That wasn't an option, not at all. Jack Vessalius was a whore, not a thief! He could not accept this job, simply because he stole this necklace from a corpse!

Ah. A corpse. Jetrose thieves...die in these situations.

"You have the same reaction as my guards," Glen noted in what seemed to be amusement. Gloved hands began to gather the pieces of paper and parchment and carefully place them back inside the book. "Yes, I need you to stay here, for my convenience. Anything you need will be provided to you. Oh, and do try not to steal anything - I am a practitioner of magick, so I will know."

Jack's mouth was going dry. "No, Glen, this is a-," he started before there was a jangling sound and a rather large red velvet pouch was dropped onto the table. The blond could see the king staring at him expectantly.

"What's this?"

Glen took the puch and placed it on top of the false book, picking it up and offering it out to Jack. "My upfront pay for you. There's more once you complete your mission and find Pandora's Box," promised the dark-haired man.

Oh. Jack's verdant eyes fell onto the pouch that could easily fit his own inside. With his pouch full he was able to barely get by, but that... You're being tempted, don't forget that this is out of your league, Jack!

Pandora's Box is nothing but a myth. King Glen...I am sure he sincerely believes it's real, but Princess Lacie couldn't possibly have been snatched up by some fairytale, this...this "Abyss"! countered Jack, beginning to frown. Once Glen realized that, surely this would all end. Surely. And hopefully I'll get to keep my head. Glen Baskerville wasn't known to execute anyone, but Jack was sure he wasn't above it were he deceived by a whore.

"Glen, why do you think I can do this?" asked Jack slowly.

Seeming confused by the question, Glen glanced down at Jack's collar again. With one hand he reached out and tapped the silver symbol hanging from his neck. "Because of that. My men have been seeking someone with such a mark for a long time. Whether or not you were capable...if you could...just try... I believe that'll be enough. A thief of Jetrose will surely be able to gather more information than I ever could."

Expression calm yet nevertheless holding so much earnest, Glen held the book and pouch out to the blond. "Please, I need your help. Will you help me?"

"I..." Jack closed his eyes, not daring himself to look and take in the reality that he was taking the objects from Glen's hand. "I will do my best for you...Your Majesty." When he opened his eyes again, hands trembling slightly with an unfamiliar weight in his hands, Glen was smiling softly at him.

"What is your name?"

"...Jack," the blond said, gazing down at the crimson cover of the false book, the equally red velvet pouch on top of it. Information and wealth beyond anything he could comprehend - yet it was in the hands of a whore.

"Just Jack..."