WARNING: RIDICULOUSNESS AHEAD
(I hope you still like it though. Enjoy reading!)
Chapter Eight:
The Countess, Laughing Together
"Just being 'the odd ones out' didn't mean that you couldn't have fun."
Countryside, Wales, United Kingdom ‒ July 1847
~Cloudia~
I sighed during the train ride while looking out of the window.
After my birthday in April, the Underworld had woken up again and tortured me with a ridiculous amount of cases. In the last three months, I had perhaps murdered and arrested even more people than I had in the last year. Feeling sorry for deluging me with work, Queen Victoria had given me two weeks off and forced me to go to Wales and have a nice holiday there.
Unfortunately, I had once mentioned Cedric in a letter to her, which had resulted in her assailing me with questions until I told her everything about Cedric I had fabricated. And this resulted in her not only sending me to a holiday but also sending Cedric with me. Queen Victoria was very fond of teasing me – especially when she was pregnant.
Her husband, Prince Albert, and she had five children with their latest child, Princess Helena, born in May 1846, and they were already expecting Baby Number Six since around a month.
It would be painful to meet her at Buckingham Palace until the child was born. Victoria. Did. Not. Like. Being. Pregnant. She thought that babies were ugly, and she despised breastfeeding. Still, Albert and she just couldn't stop having children.
I needed to talk to her about that when I was back in England.
And about the fact that she forced me to travel with Cedric to Wales. Without him, the forced holidays would have been at least bearable. The local maid and the cook – I didn't take Lisa or Newman with me which had made them both anxious, but Victoria said that the cottage, where she deported me, already had a cook and a maid – would do their work, while I worked myself through my collection of Charles Dickens books which I had taken with me. The cottage was located in the middle of nowhere, meaning that I would finally be surrounded by complete silence.
However, Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland had sent Cedric with me.
Wasn't this supposed to be relaxing for me?
"I still think that you should have refused the Queen's offer to accompany me," Cloudia meant, putting down her hat, which was decorated with beautiful purple verbena and fit perfectly together with the gentian blue dress Lisa had made her last month.
"I don't think that I could have declined an offer from the Queen."
Cedric and Cloudia shared a compartment with beclouded windows, so nobody in the corridor could watch them during their travel. Therefore, Cedric thought that it was absolutely reasonable to sit half lying on the seats. Cloudia was surprised that he didn't fall down every time the train arrived at a station and stopped.
"You're creasing your expensive clothes," she scolded him with a stern look on her face.
And, of course, he started to laugh loudly.
"My, my. I feel sorry for your future children, Countess. You have to have kids for being the last of Phantomhives after all."
Cedric turned on his seat so that his head touched the ground and his feet were flying mid-air. Cloudia rolled her eyes.
"Also, Countess, Grim Reapers also get days off. For that two-week-trip here, I used my limited holiday time. Normal Reapers can only take off a month a year. But, of course, we can divide this month over the whole year."
"I don't think anyone will miss you in the Dispatch," Cloudia said and sighed. "If the snack lady arrives here and wants to sell us some sweets, she will get a heart attack when she sees you. You're at least a hundred years old, so stop behaving like a little child, Undertaker."
"My, my. You're really grumpy today again, Countess." Cedric sat down on his seat opposite from her – and this time, he did it properly. "We're having some days off after working so much in the last months. You should be happy and smile for a change."
"I would be happier if you weren't here."
"You came up with the idea of making a deal with me – just a few minutes after meeting me."
"But I just wanted to work with you. Not to share my holidays with you."
"Well. You can complain about it when we're back. I think the Queen will listen to you."
"She's pregnant. Again. Prince Albert and Queen Victoria simply have too many children. And now, they will get a new one. She's always a bit disordered when she's pregnant."
Cedric chuckled a bit. "You seem to know her quite well."
Cloudia sighed. "I am the Queen's Watchdog after all. She's my employer. I directly work for the crown and the sake of the kingdom. Naturally, I know her quite well. Even before I was decorated, the Queen occasionally invited me to get to know me. I am her first Watchdog after all. I attended her and Prince Albert's wedding together with my mother, for example."
He frowned. "You attended their wedding with your mother? Didn't she turn crazy after your father's death?"
She glared at him. "She did not go crazy. My mother is behaving irresponsibly and ridiculously, but she is not crazy. She accompanied me to their wedding because it was my first time meeting the Royal family, and she didn't want to let me go there on my own. Or let one of her sisters accompany me. Mother dislikes the Royal family because she thinks it's their fault that Father died. Without them and the 'horrible' cases they assigned to him, he wouldn't have been murdered, she says. Out of fear, Mother came with me to their wedding as I was only nine years old back then. It was one of the few times, Mother stopped locking herself up and went outside."
"Wait – your father was murdered?"
Cloudia ignored his question, or better she avoided this topic, and stared out of the window. The landscape of Wales was passing by as they drove in the train.
It was Cedric's turn to sigh. "And when else did your mother come out?" he asked her another question, which she would hopefully answer this time.
Cloudia sat up straight in her seat. "At my decorations."
"Did you just intentionally use plural?"
"Everything I say, I say with an intention, Undertaker. I do not misspeak," she stated. "And if you had more than one brain cell, Undertaker, you could have guessed that I naturally had two decorations. I'm basically not one but two persons after all."
"So you had one for yourself and one for the 'Earl of Phantomhive'?"
Cloudia nodded. "Exactly. On May 5, 1842, I was decorated as the Countess of Phantomhive. Only my family members were invited to this secret ceremony. I had a chance to wear a truly lovely white dress, made by the Queen's tailor, on that day. The following day, other nobles were invited to Buckingham Palace for my second decoration ceremony. I dressed up as a boy and posed as my own fictional cousin. It was my first great act as the Watchdog," she told him.
Cedric leaned back and looked up at the ceiling when there was a knock on the door.
"Please enter," Cloudia said politely, and Cedric quickly sat up straight again.
The snack lady, like Cloudia had called her, had arrived. She was a little, slightly chubby woman with brown hair kept in a tight bun. Her cheeks were rosy, and her lips were forming a friendly smile. Over her plum-coloured dress, the snack lady wore a white apron. And, of course, she had her big trolley with sweets with her.
"Hello. My name is Mrs Mary Margaret Wilming." The snack lady with the exceptionally nice face curtsied in front of them. At least, she was aware of the etiquette.
"I am Lady Cloudia Phantomhive, and this is my good friend and travel companion, Duke Kristopher Underwood," Cloudia introduced them formally.
"It's an honour to meet you, Lady Phantomhive and Duke Underwood." She curtsied again.
"May I offer you some sweets, Mylady?" Mary Margaret Wilming then asked.
Cloudia smiled. "No, thank you, Mrs Wilming. They all look fantastic, but, unfortunately, I do not feel like eating anything sweet right now."
Mary Margaret lowered her head a bit. "I can fully understand, Mylady." She lifted her head up again and turned her attention towards Cedric, whose yellowish green eyes glowed like two washed-out emeralds in the light behind his glasses.
Mary Margaret laughed – a laugh which shook her whole figure and came right from the bottom of her heart. "Your attendee seems to be very fond of sweets, Lady Phantomhive."
Couldn't he have told me about this beforehand? Then, I could have hammered into him not to act like a little child before Mary Margaret had arrived!
Cloudia smiled in an apology. "I'm deeply sorry for his indecent behaviour. When it comes to sweets, he forgets everything he was taught."
Mary Margaret laughed another one of her hearty laughs. "That's not a problem, Mylady. Which sweets do you desire exactly, Your Grace?"
"Everything," Cedric said without hesitation and without taking off his gaze from the trolley.
Cloudia covered her face behind her Japanese fan, while Mary Margaret was genuinely amused by Cedric's behaviour and told him what sweets she had. After he had picked up some and gave her a bit of money – Cloudia's money which she had given him for emergencies –, Mary Margaret waved them goodbye and left their compartment.
"You're impossible, Undertaker," Cloudia scolded him when Mary Margaret was far enough not to hear their conversation by accident.
Cedric put candy in his mouth. "These are really good! Do you think we can call her back, so I can propose to her? She makes brilliant sweets!" Another candy vanished into his mouth.
"She introduced herself as Mrs Mary Margaret Wilming, you fool. She's married."
He shrugged and bit into a piece of cake. "The good ones are always taken. Do you think that she has a daughter to whom she taught all her fine recipes?"
Cloudia shook her head. "As if this was of importance! Your behaviour earlier was unforgivable! You embarrassed me in front of a commoner."
"Calm down, Countess. Good old Mary Maggie didn't look like a lady who would gossip about you or anyone. Also, we're already in Wales. I doubt that this incident will get known in London."
"How will you know for sure that she isn't a nosy Nancy, a great gossip, a chatterbox, a blabbermouth..."
Cedric fell down his seat due to laughter and nearly choked on a jelly baby.
"I had no clue that you knew such words, Countess! Guehehe."
"I read a lot of books. My vocabulary is very far-reaching," Cloudia replied with a smirk.
He burst into laughter again, and a package of candy fell down on the ground. "You work yourself up too much, Countess. Relax a bit. We're on holidays."
She sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes.
I could feel a headache approaching me. I wasn't amused.
Cloudia opened her eyes again and put out one of her gloved hands. "Could you please give me a few of your sweets?"
"No."
"Th – excuse me, did you just say 'no'?"
"Exactly, Countess," Cedric said and put a handful of marshmallows into his mouth. "You said barely fifteen minutes ago to Mary Margaret that you don't want any sweets."
"I'm a girl of nobility. I cannot simply tell a snack lady that I want something from her. It wouldn't have been appropriate for me to buy anything from her. And now – could you share with me your goods?"
"No."
She sighed. "You're being vile; do you know that?"
"I do. But, whatever you say, I will not give you any of my sweets." Cedric worked himself through a big cream tart with strawberries.
"And what is your reason?"
"Well..." He looked directly into her eyes, looking as serious as he could. "I will not boost your sneaky attempt to eat up my sweets. You only want them because, then, you don't have to buy some by yourself."
"It was my money you used to buy these!"
"But don't you think because I am your investigative partner, I have the right to get a bit of the Queen's money? The other Aristocrats of Evil are paid a salary from her as well after all."
"They aren't paid a salary from the Queen," Cloudia clarified. "The Queen cannot interact with the business partners of her Watchdog because they are mostly quite dubious people. And it's bad enough that she frequently meets up with me. Therefore, I get a little extra money when I get my fees for accomplishing a task given by Queen Victoria. I get these fees alongside my monthly, regular salary. I divide this extra money between the Aristocrats who had helped me with this certain case. The Queen herself doesn't know who helps me and who doesn't. Thus, it's my job to buy the Aristocrats out. Besides, they didn't become my colleagues for the money. They are aristocrats after all. They are my colleagues because they gain a certain freedom out of our partnership. And probably a bit of influence. And whatever your reason was to join me."
"But that doesn't change the fact that they are paid. It also supports the fact that I should also get paid."
She sighed. "You're absolutely unbearable. Your parents must have tried to sell you off to the next farmer when you were still human."
Suddenly, Cedric became eerily silent – could it mean that I was right? That my silly joke was the truth? Or at least very close to it? I knew so little about him, but the day would definitely come when I was the one asking the questions and getting the answers out of him.
After a while, Cedric started eating his sweets again in an exaggerated, all happy manner to tease me. He had once told me, despite being a supernatural being, that he had to sleep like normal humans. Besides, he had entrusted me that Grim Reapers could also die.
Also – if he continued to annoy me, I would strangle him with my corset while he was asleep.
The rest of the travel, Cedric was eating the sweets he had purchased, and I was reading Sketches by "Boz," Illustrative of Every-day Life and Every-day People by Charles Dickens – a collection of his very early short stories, published in 1836.
We arrived at our destination by early afternoon. Cedric and I got out of the train and a servant, Queen Victoria had sent to help us with our luggage and bring us to the cottage, was already awaiting us. He drove us to the cottage in a fine carriage. The ground was a bit uneven, but the scenery from the carriage windows was truly breathtaking.
Then, after a few hours, we arrived at the cottage.
Like a true gentleman, Cedric helped Cloudia out of the carriage while the servant unloaded their luggage from the carriage. The wind was blowing violently, and Cloudia had to hold her hat tightly so that it wouldn't fly away.
Wales was extraordinarily beautiful. The wide green meadows. The deep-blue, never-ending lakes and rivers. To get to the cottage, they had had to drive over a stone bridge, which had been built over a river with such beautiful, clean water like Cloudia had never seen it. Due to it being late afternoon and this side of the world already about to change into night, the clouds flying on the sky started a bit to paint themselves lavender. Here and there were shades of mauve and plum entangled in the deep-blue colour of the sky.
Cloudia spent most of her time in her lovely manor in the countryside, but her mansion was surrounded by a grand forest, and London was two to three hours away. This cottage, however, was located in "the middle of nowhere" just like Victoria had assured her. Therefore, Cloudia had never seen the true beauty of nature.
The cottage itself was ghastly, though.
It was an ugly, old stone building with two chimneys. Also, it was about to be devoured by ivy.
Cedric burst into laughter the moment he saw this abnormality.
I needed to tell Victoria that she shouldn't make too many decisions while pregnant. She should let Albert handle everything until she had given birth.
A small, petite woman with short greying hair and a tall, lanky young man stepped out of the cottage and approached them.
"My name is Jocelyn Blevins. I am the landlady and maid of this cottage. And this is Arwyn Owens. He can't hear nor speak, but he's a very friendly person and a brilliant cook," the small woman said, and curtsied in front of Cloudia and Cedric. Jocelyn Blevins wore a very simple dark blue dress which looked like she had worn it for ages. Her face looked old, and she was probably in her late forties or early fifties, but her eyes shone with intelligence and youth.
The man next to her bowed politely. He had wild, black locks which didn't have enough room on his head. His eyes were of a very deep blue colour – similar to Cloudia's own eyes. However, he had slightly sun-tanned skin. Furthermore, the lanky man wore the white uniform of a cook.
Cloudia had just wanted to introduce Cedric and herself to them, even though she was quite sure that they already knew who they were when Jocelyn Blevins stepped in front of her all of a sudden and took hold of her arms. Today, Cloudia wore long gloves made of white lace, but between the short sleeves of her dress and the end of the gloves was a tiny part of the uncovered skin. Jocelyn took hold of her arms at exactly these exposed parts. Her hands were cold, and Cloudia did her best not to shiver.
"What a beautiful young girl you are! With your black hair, you could fit perfectly into Wales! Say, girl, are one of your parents from Wales?"
The servant carried their luggage into the cottage, and Arwyn Owens showed him where he needed to put them.
Cedric covered his mouth, but she could still see that he was grinning like an idiot.
"My parents are both English," Cloudia replied and did her best to exaggerate her upper-class English accent.
"No Welsh ancestors?"
"Perhaps, but I'm certain that, if I have any Welsh ancestors, they are only to be found in the higher parts of the crown of my family tree."
Jocelyn let go of Cloudia's arms. "Well... it doesn't really matter, does it? I hope you are going to feel like at home in this modest cottage, Lady Phantomhive and Duke Underwood."
If it looks better inside than outside, it could probably be even bearable to stay here. Besides, I had to say that I was relieved that Jocelyn did know our names. At least, I didn't have to start introducing Cedric and myself.
Jocelyn Blevins walked up to Cedric and shook hands with him.
"What lovely, long hair you have, Your Grace!" she complimented him. "The hair colour's a bit odd, though. Or are you just older than you seem?" She laughed and playfully thumped his arm.
"It's my natural hair colour," Cedric answered her. He didn't look happy.
"Really? I have never seen someone who was your age with silver or grey hair before."
"Now you did. Also, I would appreciate it if you could lead Lady Cloudia and me inside, Mrs Blevins."
Cloudia blinked at him. She had never seen Cedric being so bitter about something. She wondered what the reason for his behaviour was.
Exhausted, I fell on my bed without even putting off my dress. I had only taken off my hat and my gloves.
Jocelyn had given Cedric and me an awfully long guidance through this terribly small cottage. She had told us everything about every corner, about every flaw in the walls, about every piece of furniture, etc. of this cottage with scaring enthusiasm.
When the guidance had been over, she had led us to the dining room. Arwyn Owens had prepared us a lovely dinner. The servant had said goodbye hours ago and left with his carriage.
Arwyn had prepared a traditional Welsh stew named Cawl for us, which consisted of lamb shanks, many vegetables like potatoes, carrots, leek, and cabbage among others, herbs and seasoning. It looked and smelled as lovely as it tasted. For dessert, Arwyn had prepared chocolate cake. After dinner, Cedric and I were brought to our rooms which were quite small, but not tiny.
Now, I was lying on my bed and massaging my temples. My headache was getting worse. Definitely, Jocelyn's endless babble was to blame. At least partly.
I stopped the massage and stood up. It didn't help. I needed to go to sleep. Tomorrow, hopefully, my headache would be better.
But it was impossible for me to get out of this dress on my own. Mostly because of the corset.
Thus, I needed Jocelyn's help.
I sighed and went to call her.
~Cedric~
I visited Cloudia after Arwyn and Jocelyn had gone to sleep. Usually, she didn't sleep until it was already very late. Instead, she read through half the night. I didn't know if she was just very fond of books, or if she had some sleeping problem.
But then, sometimes, Cloudia fell asleep during conversations, when we were alone in her manor or her townhouse in London.
Cloudia Phantomhive was surely a very complex and mysterious person.
Today, however, Cloudia was lying under her sheets and seemed to be fast asleep. She had carefully placed her books in the forthcoming bookshelf, but none of it was rested on top of her bedside cabinet.
I moved a chair next to her bed and put one hand on her forehead. Again, she looked simply angelic while asleep. Just like Princess Snow White in her glass coffin.
Cloudia opened her eyes. She blinked a few times before her eyes widened, and then, she slapped my hand away.
"What are you doing here, Undertaker?" she yelled at him and sat up.
"Visiting you, Countess," Cedric said. He saw her rubbing her temples. She looked awful.
"And why did you wake me up with your hand on my face?" Cloudia glared at him.
"Usually you get to sleep very late. When I saw that you had already gone to sleep, I assumed that you could be ill, and examined if you have a fever."
"I'm fine." She lay back down and pulled her blanket over her.
"You don't look fine."
Again, Cloudia kneaded her temples and pain sneaked onto her face.
"Is anything wrong with your head?" Cedric asked.
She sighed and turned around so that Cedric had to talk to her back. "I only have a headache."
"I heard that coffee helps when it comes to headaches."
She shook her head. "It doesn't work on me."
"It seems like you often have headaches," Cedric pointed out jokingly.
Cloudia stayed silent, and Cedric feared that she had already fallen asleep, but then, he finally realised what the real reason for her silence was.
"You often do have headaches, am I right? I'm absolutely right, ain't I?" He grinned, highly amused. "But when coffee doesn't help and headaches aren't a rare thing for you – how do you usually treat them?"
"Sleep," she answered after a while. "Or..." She cut herself off.
"Or?"
Cloudia mumbled something into her pillow.
"Countess, it would be appropriate if you spoke properly, and not like a toothless old hag." It felt good being the one saying such things for once.
"Hot milk," she whispered.
"Okay, I'll make you a cup of hot milk." Cedric stood up from the chair. "You could have said something about your headache earlier, Countess. It would have been..."
"With honey," Cloudia added faintly.
He nodded. "A cup of hot milk with honey is arriving. Just be patient." Then, he left the room.
I went down to the kitchen. On my way down, I had passed by Jocelyn's room and allowed myself to peek inside. She was snoring in her bed, and Arwyn was deaf which meant that I could be noisy while preparing the hot milk for Cloudia.
Grim Reapers had to sleep, but I wanted to chat with her, so I needed to help her with her headache as soon as possible.
"I just have a headache, Undertaker. It's nothing unusual."
I suddenly remembered the day Cloudia had woken up after she had lost consciousness in the Salisbury Villa in January. Coming to think of it, she had implied back then that she often had headaches. I had just forgotten it. Well... it didn't matter anymore.
While I heated up the milk, I thought of something I could prepare for her alongside the milk. During dinner, Cloudia hadn't eaten very much. I had thought that she was just decent, or that her corset was too tight and didn't allow her to eat much. But knowing about her condition now, I wondered if she hadn't eaten much because of her headache.
I pottered about in the kitchen, preparing the milk, and the special something I wanted to give her to eat. Cloudia was probably starving. She hadn't eaten anything despite the Cawl since our departure this morning after all. And she had barely touched the Cawl, although it had been utterly delicious.
I felt a little bit bad about not having given her a few sweets on the train ride.
When I was done, I put everything on a tray and carried it upstairs. I entered Cloudia's room and saw her leaning against the wall while sitting on her bed. She looked horrible, but also more fragile, more vulnerable than she actually was. Cloudia Phantomhive was the Queen of the Underworld. She was a powerful woman, but, apparently, headaches turned her into a fragile child of seventeen years. Usually, she appeared older than she actually was.
Cedric sat down on the chair, which he had placed next to her bed earlier, and put the tray on the bedside cabinet.
"I made you your hot milk, Countess," he told her. Cloudia gazed at him. "With honey?"
He grinned and nodded. "Yes, with honey." He lifted the cup and handed it over to her. She drank a sip and put it down on her lap.
"It's good," she murmured. Then, Cloudia noticed the other thing which Cedric had brought to her and frowned at them.
"Are these dog biscuits?"
"These are my special house-made biscuits for humans and Reapers," Cedric corrected her.
"They are shaped like bones, like dog biscuits."
"They are solely for humans and Reapers – not for dogs. I only have one biscuit cutter." He picked one biscuit up and gave it to her.
"Try one out." He grinned widely.
Cloudia put the cup on the bedside cabinet and took the biscuit from him. While she carefully bit into the biscuit, Cedric put at least seven of them into his mouth at once.
"They are good," she said silently, making him smile.
Headache Cloudia was quite different than Normal Cloudia.
"I'm happy that you like them," Cedric said and ate another handful of biscuits. Cloudia, on the other hand, ate the biscuits while drinking her hot milk like a civilised young lady of nobility who she was.
"Are you feeling better already?" he wanted to know.
She nodded. "A little bit."
"Can I ask you a question, Countess?"
"You have already done it twice. And numerous times today and in the last months without asking beforehand," Cloudia replied, sounding a bit like Normal Cloudia again. It made him feel relieved.
Cedric grinned. "Okay, okay, then I will go ahead: Why can only hot milk with honey ease your headache?"
She put the now empty cup on her lap and embraced it with her hands.
"My father used to make me hot milk with honey when I wasn't feeling well," Cloudia entrusted Cedric. "When I was little, my mother was once in Ireland, visiting Aunt Felicity while she was pregnant with Ceara. During that time, I was always with my father; and when I suddenly caught a fever and lost my appetite, he made me a cup of hot milk with honey. I liked it very much from the first mouthful, and it even helped me to recover. Because of that, Father continued to make me it when I wasn't feeling well." Cloudia ran her thumb over the rim of the cup.
"You seem to miss him," Cedric said after a while, his voice soft.
"He's dead for over thirteen years now. I can't even remember his face." Cloudia shook her head. "It's ridiculous. This silly cup of hot milk with honey is one of the few things I unconsciously remember. I always a nostalgic, comforting feeling when I drink it, but for years, I did not know why until someone told me about it.
"Probably, I would have stopped drinking it ages ago if it didn't help." She put the cup on the bedside cabinet. "I would love to talk with you for the next few hours, but, today, my headache is nastier than normal, and the milk doesn't entirely work. I need sleep – also... could you please leave, Undertaker? I wish you a good night – and thanks for the milk and the biscuits," Cloudia added with a lower voice.
"Bore da, Countess!" Cedric greeted her when Cloudia entered the dining room. Today, she wore a simpler dress than yesterday, but it was still fantastically elegant. It was made of dark grey silk, and the dress' only decoration was a bit of white lace in the area of the décolleté, in the area where the skirt started, and at the end of the sleeves. Like usual, Cloudia had braided her long black hair into a stern wreath on the back of her head. He liked her with open hair better, but he couldn't deny that this hairstyle also looked great on her. It gave free sight to her flawless face with the high cheekbones, the ivory skin, the full red lips, and the big, shining eyes. Gracefully, Cloudia sat down on a chair opposite from Cedric.
"What does 'Buureh dar' mean?" she asked, pronouncing it so terribly that Cedric had to giggle.
"It's Boh-reh dah," he instructed her. "It means 'Good morning' in Welsh. Jocelyn taught it to me."
"Speaking of her – where is Mrs Blevins? I don't see her anywhere."
"Just because you don't see her, doesn't mean she isn't here."
Cloudia sighed. "Just tell me if she's here or not."
Cedric put another piece of Welsh crempog – or Ffroes like Jocelyn had told him happily – into his mouth. They were basically pancakes, but not as papery as English pancakes. Arwyn, who was working in the kitchen next to the dining room right now, had put icing sugar on top of them, making the crempogs even lovelier than they already were. He and Cloudia weren't even in Wales for one day now, but Cedric had already fallen in love with Welsh food.
"She's not," he said with a full mouth. Only Cloudia could hear him after all. "Jocelyn drove to a nearby town with her old, rattly car for shopping."
"Don't speak with a full mouth!" Cloudia scolded him.
Cedric laughed and waved friskily about with his fork. "I'm happy to see that you're doing well again, Countess."
She didn't say anything, just stared at the pile of crempogs which was located in front of her on a big plate.
"Are these... pancakes?"
"Crempog or Ffroes," Cedric told her. "They are pancakes but taste better than the English ones we're used to. Not so papery. Creamier, juicier."
Cloudia put a few of the Welsh pancakes on her plate and began to eat them. "Delicious!" escaped her mouth before she could do anything. Quickly, she covered her mouth, and Cedric burst into laughter. This had been the most carefree thing which she had ever done in his presence.
She cleared her throat. "Sorry for my sudden outburst."
"My, my, Countess! No need to apologise! It's fine. We're on holidays, and no one will scold you. We're far away from London, from England. No one knows you here. You don't have to be so stiff." Cedric put another piece of crempog inside his mouth.
"Also, they are totally delicious. So it's absolutely reasonable to have an outburst because of it."
They continued their breakfast while chatting. Cedric had to encourage Cloudia to eat more of the crempogs when she had suddenly stopped, but had still looked hungry. Arwyn and Jocelyn were the only ones out here, and they would never yell at her for eating an unladylike portion. In the end, the two of them managed to eat all the approximate one hundred crempogs Arwyn had made for them. Cedric giggled like a little, silly girl when he realised this. Cloudia just smiled happily – it was an entirely different smile as he was used to, and he liked it –, but he knew that she would have loved to giggle with him in unison but couldn't.
After breakfast, Cloudia had vanished into her room, and I was able to prepare my plan.
I wasn't very popular among the Grim Reapers of the Dispatch, but there had been a time when I had actually talked to my fellow Reapers. During that time, I had met and got to know a young woman. She had died at the age of twenty-three and had been raised in some churchly facility. The woman's name was Helena Bowers, and she had been born deaf. In the facility, however, Helena had learned how to use sign language so that she was able to communicate with others. She had taught it to me before she was transferred to the Administrative Division.
Therefore, I was luckily able to communicate with Arwyn and tell him about my plan. And, fortunately, he was willing to help me.
~Cloudia~
I had finished Sketches by "Boz," Illustrative of Every-day Life and Every-day People and put it back in the bookcase, and had just wanted to start with The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, Charles Dickens' very first novel, when someone knocked on my door. I expected Jocelyn who wanted to tell me every single detail of her trip to the town and show me everything she had bought, explaining to me why exactly she bought it. I sighed during my way to the door.
I had never been so relieved to see Cedric standing in the doorway.
"I will kidnap you now, Countess," he announced. His smile was almost splitting up his face into two uneven parts.
Cloudia raised one eyebrow. "I hope you're well aware of the fact that you don't announce a kidnapping act. Or any other criminal act. It's just ridiculous. Sometimes, you hear from thieves who send cards to the persons or museums they want to steal something from. Then, these persons or the museum's director place a million police officers around the artefact the thief wants to steal – only to be fooled by him, and losing their precious item nevertheless. I despise such thieves. They are basically little children who are bored and want to play pranks on adults."
Cedric laughed hysterically. "You're wonderful, Countess! Besides – I don't really want to kidnap you. I simply want to take you on a little trip. And if you refuse, I will have to force you to. I hope you're aware of the fact that Grim Reapers possess more strength than humans will ever have?" He giggled.
She sighed. "Very well, Undertaker. Let's go." Cloudia wanted to step through the door, but Cedric stopped her.
"Not so fast, Countess! You can't go to the place, where I want to take you, in such a dress. Please change into a lighter dress and more robust shoes."
Cloudia frowned. "But I can't change into a lighter dress! I would have to change my corset too. And Jocelyn isn't there."
"I could help you," Cedric suggested, and Cloudia punched him very unladylike against his upper arm.
"Don't say such things! You cannot help me change, Undertaker."
"It's not my fault that you were so foolish not to take Miss Greene or Alfred with you."
In the past months, Cedric had got acquainted with Lisa and Newman. While he was acting like good friends with Newman, he always treated Lisa with so much politeness that it actually surprised me.
"I couldn't have known that the only other woman here would just disappear for hours!" Cloudia replied.
"If you feel uneasy when it's me, why don't you ask Arwyn? He's a very charming person."
She scowled at him. "You're impossible, Undertaker."
"You keep and keep saying the same things over and over again, Countess. I promise you – I won't look. I can put down my glasses. I'm terribly nearsighted – just like every other Grim Reaper. I would only see the ribbons on your corset."
"Fine," Cloudia sighed. "But if you just take a glimpse, I will shatter your glasses, and you can spend the rest of your immortal life in eternal darkness."
Cedric chuckled. "I could just get myself a new pair."
"Not if you don't find your way back home."
~Cedric~
I helped Cloudia getting out of her corset. Then, she ordered me to leave the room. When I had stepped over the doorway, she threw my glasses at me and closed the door. What a rude lady.
I waited a few minutes in front of her bedroom until she told me through the closed door that I should come in again. I put down my glasses and helped her with the lighter corset. Then, she pushed me out again.
While Cloudia was getting dressed, I went back to my own room to change too. I picked a loose white shirt, dark blue trousers which almost reached to my knees, and simple but robust dark boots. I even put on these funny sock suspenders.
I brushed through my hair and put it in a high ponytail. I always coiffed my hair like this when I was out collecting souls for the Dispatch. When I was "Kristopher Underwood," however, I wore my hair in a low ponytail.
After I was done, I went to the kitchen, and the good Arwyn gave me what I had requested from him. I lifted my flat hand to my chin so that my fingers briefly touched it, and slowly moved my still flat hand forwards. Then, I left the kitchen.
In this exact moment, Cloudia walked down the stairs – letting me forget to breathe for a split second.
She had changed into a simple light blue dress whose skirt part was not so far-reaching than the skirts of her usual dresses. Her other dresses were usually of a very stiff nature, but this one was softer. It had sleeves which reached to her elbows. The upper part of the sleeves snuggled against her skin, while the remaining 75 % were loose and made from the same soft silk like the skirt.
I had only seen Cloudia's hair either loose or braided to a wreath at the back of her head. Now, however, she wore her hair in a long braid which rested over her right shoulder. On her head, she was wearing a big straw hat with a dark blue ribbon.
For the first time, I truly got a glimpse of Cloudia. Not of the Countess of Phantomhive. Not of Cloudia Phantomhive.
In this very moment, the woman in front of me was just Cloudia.
Cedric smiled brilliantly. "Well then, Countess." He lifted up the picnic basket. "Let us go."
I led Cloudia up the hills. The sun was shining upon us. It was remarkably hotter than yesterday. We were walking through a field of green. Not a single cloud could be seen in the brilliant blue sky.
I helped Cloudia over small rivers with absurdly clean water. Tiny fish swam in them, jumping up from time to time, startling Cloudia and making me laugh. A fine breeze blew into our faces while we wandered.
And with every kilometre we got between us and the cottage, Cloudia magically became less grumpy.
Eventually, Cedric put down the picnic basket and stretched.
"Okay," he said. "Let's have lunch."
He opened the gigantic basket and took out a large blanket, which he spread over the meadow. Then, he put out the things from the basket and placed them on the blanket. When he was done, Cedric looked up and held out a hand to Cloudia.
"May I invite you to eat with me, Your Ladyship?"
"You may," Cloudia replied with a tiny smile on her lips and took his hand. They both wore gloves – hers made of lace, his of a more robust material he forgot the name of –, but he could still feel the warmth of her hand. "Your Dreadfulness," she added when she sat down on the blanket.
"'Your Dreadfulness'?"
"You're Undertaker after all," she said, grinning.
Cedric giggled. "You're sometimes so ridiculous, Countess."
"That I have to hear that from you of all people."
He laughed, and they started to eat.
Arwyn had made them Welsh rarebit – toast which was scalloped with posh cheese, and Glamorgan sausage, a vegetarian sausage made of Caerphilly cheese and rolled in breadcrumbs. As the dessert, he had prepared Welsh cakes for them. They were quite small and flavoured with spice and dried fruit and sprinkled with sugar, but they tasted as delicious as everything Arwyn had ever cooked for them. Arwyn had also packed them a big bottle of water and drinking glasses. While Cedric almost drank half of the bottle on his own, Cloudia's glass was still filled and untouched.
"Actually," Cedric began, impaling a sausage with his fork, "I wanted to marry Arwyn, but, I guess, I can't do that."
"Because you intended to marry Mary Margaret Wilming?" Cloudia said.
He shook his head and eyed the sausage. "No. My heart was broken by her when I realised that she was already taken. But I will still wait until Doomsday to make her mine. Whatever, that's not the reason why I can't marry Arwyn anymore."
She raised an eyebrow. "And what is the reason?"
Cedric put the sausage into his mouth. "Because I found out that he's a really cheesy guy."
And as soon as these words left my mouth, a miracle happened.
I did not believe in miracles. But for me – this was and would always be a true miracle.
Cloudia – the Cloudia Phantomhive, the Countess of Phantomhive, the Shadow Queen of the British Underworld – burst out into laughter and even held her belly.
I had never heard a sound more heavenly than this.
Cloudia wiped away a tear of laughter. A heartwarming smile remained on her face. Then, suddenly, she realised what she had just done and turned bright red.
"Oh!" escaped her lips, and she turned away her face. "I apologise for my unutterable behaviour."
Cedric put a hand on one of her shoulders and turned her back to him so that they were looking into each other's eyes.
"I have no goddamn idea who the hell told you to apologise for having fun. You're a seventeen-year-old girl. You're free to laugh. You can, dammit, laugh as much as you want. You don't have to apologise for laughing, goddammit," he screamed at her with an uncharacteristically stern look on his face.
Cloudia stared at him in shock, and Cedric's face softened again. He brushed over her cheek with the back of his hand.
"I'm sorry for my outburst, Countess. I shouldn't have yelled at you." He stopped in his movement and rested his hand against her cheek. "But it is really fine for you to laugh."
Cedric put his hand away from her face and looked away. "Let's continue to eat now and forget this."
What he didn't see was that Cloudia kept gazing at him.
"Say, Countess," Cedric said after around an hour of silence. "Your servants, Miss Greene and Alfred, your cousins, Milton, and even the Queen – she forced you to take a break after all – seem to like you in their own ways. And you still told me that you don't have any friends."
Cloudia looked up to the sky. She had put down her straw hat, and now the light wind could play with a few loose streaks of her dark, dark raven hair.
"Lisa and Newman are my servants. They are devoted to me. I helped them out of misery, and as gratitude, they are serving me. We may have a friendly relationship, but we are not friends," she told him, her gaze still resting on the sky.
"Speaking of your servants... How exactly did you meet them? Alfred is quite strange, and Miss Greene isn't only the wallflower she seems to be. How did you find them?"
Cloudia closed her eyes. Her long lashes touched her skin, and light got entangled between them. It looked marvellous. "These are stories better to be told somewhere else – not in this idyll."
"And your cousins? The Queen? Milton?" Cedric kept asking, and Cloudia opened her eyes again. However, she still didn't look at him but watched birds flying over the sky.
"They are my cousins, Undertaker. We're blood-related. I don't even like them very much. Queen Victoria is my employer. We may know each other for years now, and therefore share a close relationship, but we could never be friends. And Milton – I already told you why I cannot call him a friend."
"And what about us?"
She turned her gaze away from the birds and directed it to Cedric.
"You are my colleague," she said softly. "You're informally an Aristocrat of Evil. We are not friends. Also, I hold the view that it's possible for two people to cultivate a friendly relationship – without being friends or lovers."
Cloudia stood up and smoothed her dress. "And now – let's talk about a different topic. We're on holidays, after all, Undertaker."
Cedric smiled. "Of course, Countess."
"You said you were nearsighted?"
"I am terribly nearsighted. It's a Grim Reaper trait. If you ever meet another one of my kind, which I do not hope, he or she will wear glasses and have these ridiculous yellow-green eyes."
She bent forward and rested her hands on her knees to be able to look straight into his eyes. "I don't think they're ridiculous," Cloudia said firmly. "I actually think your eyes are unique and beautiful, Undertaker."
Cedric stared at her in disbelief. Had she just complimented him?
Before his brains could handle this strange circumstance, Cloudia had already reached forward and snatched away his glasses. With a girly giggle, she ran over the meadow, leaving Cedric blind and helpless on the picnic blanket.
This damn girl.
"Hey! I can't see without them! Come back!" Cedric shouted after her.
He heard a chuckle. "You're shouting to the wrong direction, Undertaker!"
"Bring me back my glasses, Countess!"
"Never!"
"That's inappropriate behaviour, Countess! You're acting like a child!" he yelled.
"Weren't you the one who told me to laugh and behave like a seventeen-year-old? Or was it just my imagination?"
Cedric scowled.
This goddamn girl.
Using my own words against me.
And still, I couldn't hold back my smile.
Cedric rose up and managed not to stumble over the picnic basket when he ran after Cloudia. Her childish giggle betrayed her, and he could follow her a bit, but, in the end, he was too slow. He couldn't see clearly. He could only hear her giggle, but couldn't properly tell from where exactly her voice came from.
After half an hour of this strange variant of the tag game, Cloudia finally stopped to move but laughed like a little, silly schoolgirl. Cedric ran towards her but didn't stop at the right moment, and the two of them fell down on the pasture. He was now lying on top of her. She was holding his glasses and laughed. From this range, Cedric could see a bit of her face. Wasn't it beautiful how laughter could make someone even lovelier?
He took his glasses from her and put back them on. Then, he looked down at her.
"You're such an impossible girl, Countess," Cedric said with a faked stern tone and grinned.
"You're ruining my dress, Undertaker! Get off of me!" Cloudia giggled. Cedric stood up and helped her up.
Cloudia leaned against him for a moment and then gazed into his eyes. "I really do like your eyes," she admitted with a soft smile on her lips. "I have never seen such a colour before. It's wonderful." Then, she grabbed the ribbon, which held together Cedric's hair in a ponytail, and undid the bow. His long grey hair fell loosely over his shoulders and back.
"It's better like this, isn't it?"
He stared at her. "Are you the real Countess? I think that you got somehow exchanged with someone else."
"By the way, Undertaker," Cloudia started, ignoring his remark, "if you are so ridiculously nearsighted – wouldn't it be better if you learned how to use your other senses better? You become utterly useless the moment you lose your glasses. You will get killed if this happens during a fight. You need to strengthen your other senses, and not only rely on your eyes, Undertaker."
Cedric shook his head in amusement. "I will work on it, but I still think you're a changeling."
"I can't be a changeling. Then, I must have been exchanged as a baby or a toddler."
"Probably you were. And now, your true wicked faerie self is showing."
Cloudia took his hand and guided him back to the blanket, the most beautiful of smiles gracing her face. "Wasn't I always wicked?"
Cedric told her more about Grim Reapers in general, when they were sitting on the blanket again. When he was about to explain to her that the Dispatch consisted of several divisions with their own duties, Cloudia ran her hand through his hair all of a sudden. Then, she grabbed it, resulting in Cedric staring at her in shock.
"Keep talking," she ordered him – and then started to braid his long hair casually. "And keep still. It will become unnecessarily difficult if you don't."
Cedric continued to talk about the different divisions and their duties – until Cloudia started to braid flowers into his hair.
"Countess," Cedric said in a very serious voice. "Jokes aside – have you caught a cold? A fever? Are you terminally ill? Was anything in your food that you cannot stomach? Is your headache torturing you?"
Cloudia chuckled.
I liked it that she was suddenly so carefree, and actually enjoying our holiday together. But there was a thin line between cheerfulness and ridiculousness.
And if she had become insane, due to her headache, for example, our deal would break as she could not be the Queen's Watchdog anymore.
"I'm just braiding your hair, Undertaker," Cloudia replied. She rubbed her neck, before continuing to decorate his hair with flowers.
"You're braiding flowers into my hair, Countess."
"I know that, Undertaker."
"But – why would you do that if you're not ill or insane?"
"Because it's cute."
Cedric stared at her. "You can't be serious."
"Constantia showed me how to do this when we were little. And, of course, I excel at braiding flowers into someone's hair. I'm a prodigy, a genius after all."
"No one said that."
"The Queen and her advisers say that. Also, I say that. I became the Watchdog at age twelve which makes me the youngest person ever to become the ruler's Watchdog. And I did never fail. Besides, I don't get much help from others."
"Are Miss Greene, Alfred, and I just ghosts?"
"Well... you are dead, Undertaker." She let go of his hair. "Done! You look marvellous, Undertaker."
"I hate you."
"Like a fairy tale princess."
"I hate you so much."
She chuckled. "And now, you're the grumpy one, Undertaker."
Cedric turned around to face her. "I'm not grumpy."
Cloudia tilted her head and folded her arms in front of her chest. "Of course, you are grumpy, Undertaker!"
"I'm not grumpy – I just think that I need to speak with Lady Matthews about the things she teaches you."
"She doesn't teach me anything anymore. It was in the past. When we were very little..." All of a sudden, Cloudia stopped talking. Instead of continuing to talk, she gathered a few flowers and put them on her lap. With absolute concentration, Cloudia began to braid the flowers.
"Why did you stop talking?" Cedric wanted to know. Before she answered him, Cloudia finished to plait the flowers into a crown, and quickly put them on his head.
"Now you look like a true fairy tale princess," Cloudia said with a firm nod.
"I hate you so much," Cedric mumbled, but he couldn't hold back a grin. "And now, tell me, why did you stop talking?"
She put her hands on her lap and stared at her lace gloves. "I remembered that Constantia had also taught me how to make flower crowns. I thought one would suit you fairly well."
"And the real reason?"
Cloudia looked up. Something strange was in her gaze. "Constantia taught me these things before my father died. Before I became the sole heir to the Phantomhive name."
Cedric's eyes widened, and he wanted to say something, when Cloudia looked incredibly pained from one moment to the other.
Worried, he pushed back a loose streak of her hair and put his hand on her head. "What is the matter, Countess?" he asked her softly.
Slowly, she shook her head. "It has gotten worse," Cloudia whispered. Only now, Cedric noticed how hot Cloudia's hair actually was.
When exactly had she put down her straw hat?
And then, all of a sudden, Cloudia put a hand over her mouth and bent forward and over the meadow. The next moment, the always sophisticated Cloudia Phantomhive vomited onto the pasture. Her body shook a bit, when she straightened up and looked at him with a painful look on her red face.
"Damn," Cedric cursed and helped her to stand up slowly. He picked up her hat from the ground and put it back on her head. Quickly, he put together their things and let them vanish into the basket.
"We need to get you out of the sun," he told her, holding on to her. Cloudia didn't look at him, didn't even seem to realise that he was talking to her. "Dammit," mumbled Cedric. His grip tightened. "I will bring you back to the cottage."
Cedric picked Cloudia up and hurried back to the cottage. He couldn't lose any time now.
It was good that Jocelyn had come back while Cloudia and I were absent. I told her what had happened, and Jocelyn hurried back to the nearby town to get a doctor for Cloudia, but not before she helped Cloudia out of her dress and into a nightgown. Jocelyn instructed Arwyn and me to cool down her body with cold cloths.
"It's a sunstroke," the physician, Jocelyn had brought to the cottage, told me after he was done examining Cloudia. "We're lucky that it isn't a heat stroke."
He gave Jocelyn some medicine and instructed us to give Cloudia some water, when she came to consciousness. Also, he said that Cloudia needed a lot of rest now. Besides, we needed to continue cooling down her body with the cold cloths, and the physician gave us instructions for the medicine. Then, he left, saying that he would come back tomorrow.
Later, when Arwyn and Jocelyn were asleep, I sneaked into Cloudia's bedroom. She was lying like a corpse in her bed.
It was my fault. She hadn't been feeling well yesterday – and today I didn't even ask her about her headache.
I sat down on the chair from yesterday. Cloudia was sleeping and looked like a beautiful porcelain doll.
"Where is the good ol' Earl? Letting his doll fiancée alone?"
"Doll fiancée? Earl? I'm sorry, Damsels, but you seem to have got something wrong: There. Is. No. Earl. Of. Phantomhive."
All of a sudden, I recalled Dempsey Morton's and Cloudia's exchange after Dempsey had called her a "doll fiancée." I chuckled silently so that she wouldn't wake up.
Well, she was definitely no porcelain doll. But she was indeed beautiful.
"Oh, Lady Phantomhive! Pardon, dearie – Countess of Phantomhive!"
"What... what a beautiful young girl you are, Countess! A girl like you! Watchdog! What a pity! How about..."
A shiver ran through my spine when I remembered Dempsey's words to Cloudia, when they had been alone in the basement of the Salisbury Villa.
Good thing, that she had killed him in such a cold-hearted manner. Surely, no one would miss Dempsey Morton.
Coming to think of it... Cloudia and I were partners for seven months now. The "Inner London Murders," including the "Salisbury Bombing Incident," had been our very first case. To be honest, it felt like we were actually working together since forever – and not only for seven months.
In the past months, Cloudia and I had solved many, many more cases. Thus, we had spent a ridiculous amount of time together. When I was with her, I always had a reason to laugh, because of her comical seriousness or the fact that, sometimes, Cloudia behaved like a girl of her age without being conscious of it.
I really did hope that she would recover soon.
~Cloudia~
A few days after Cedric had almost murdered me with his idea to have a picnic in the middle of nowhere, when the sun was shining far too brightly, I had finally recovered from my sunstroke. However, Jocelyn was unreasonably worried about my health and ordered me to stay in bed today, although the doctor had told us that I had fully recovered. I had even explained to her that I felt so well that I could run back to the Phantomhive Manor without breaking out in a sweat.
At least, I could read The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club. I hadn't come too far until now because I had slept through the last few days.
"That punctual servant of all work, the sun, had just risen, and began to strike a light on the morning of the thirteenth of May, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven, when Mr Samuel Pickwick burst like another sun from his slumbers, threw open his chamber window, and looked out upon the world beneath."
Then, interrupting me – and Samuel Pickwick –, Cedric entered my bedroom.
"I've heard that you're feeling better again, Countess!" he yelled and sat down on a chair next to Cloudia's bed. A big grin was lying on his face.
"Jocelyn's out," he informed me. "She had to get a few things for dinner, so I can be as loud as I want. It will only bother you after all."
"Thanks for the forbearance," Cloudia replied bitterly and closed her book. Seemingly, she wouldn't be able to continue The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club today.
What a pity.
"Look what I have found in the cottage's attic," Cedric said and showed Cloudia a chess board and a bag with chessmen while grinning like a little child on Christmas morning. He pushed the bedside cabinet in-between the bed and his chair and placed the chess board on it. Then, he started to put the chess pieces in their respective places.
"I hope you're aware of the rules of chess, Countess," Cedric said while putting the bag away.
Cloudia laid her book on the bed. "Of course, I do."
"That's wonderful." Joyfully, he hummed to himself.
"Are you humming Tom, Tom, the Piper's Son?" Cloudia asked with a frown.
Cedric giggled. "Exactly! 'Tom, he was a piper's son, /He learned to play when he was young, /And all the tune that he could play/Was 'Over the Hills and Far Away;'/Over the hills and a great way off, /The wind shall blow my top-knot off...' – I could sing this endlessly. But now, let's play a game of chess, Countess."
After Cloudia had lost fifty-four games in a row, Cedric burst into laughter and fell on the ground.
"You're really bad at this, Countess!" he snorted with laughter. "What a fine prodigy you are, Countess!"
He literally rolled on the floor while laughing, and his clothes became crinkled due to that.
Cloudia sighed. "I knew the rules perfectly before I turned seven, and beat my cousins when we were younger, and they annoyed me. You're just playing like a professional, who has never done anything else than playing chess."
Cedric was lying on the ground and stopped to roll around. His ponytail had loosened, and now the ground was covered with his long, grey hair. Cedric's ridiculously beautiful chartreuse eyes lit up when he gazed up at her.
"Seven? I didn't even know how to write my name when I was seven. Or seventeen. Or twenty. Or thirty. It's impressive that you memorised the rules so well at such a young age, Countess."
He started to laugh again, holding his belly. "But you're still horrible at chess! Guehehe."
Cloudia sighed again. "Fine, fine. When did you learn how to play chess, Undertaker?"
"Sometime after I became a fully-fledged Grim Reaper," he told her, sitting up in a tailor seat with one fluent movement. "Someone from the Dispatch taught it to me – and immediately regretted it because I, his student, his apprentice, beat him all the time as I turned out to be a true genius at chess."
"Chess and Tom, the Piper's Son," Cloudia said in a thought. "Are there more things you like? And I have to endure?"
"Don't you like chess? And Tom, the Piper's Son?" Cedric sounded sad and... hurt.
"Well..." she began. "I like chess. However, I'm not very fond of Tom, the Piper's Son."
"Didn't you have a childhood, Countess?" He leaned back, resting his hands behind him on the ground to prevent falling backwards.
"'And all the tune that he could play/Was 'Over the Hills and Far Away','" Cedric sang joyfully.
"I don't know how you spent your childhood, but I was trained to be the next Watchdog. I didn't have time to learn nursery rhymes," Cloudia replied with a scowl.
He chuckled uncharacteristically bitterly. "Then we're already two, Countess." Cedric raised up and smoothed his clothes. "I learned this song when I was already an adult."
Cedric grinned at her and tapped onto the chess board. "Want to play another round?" he asked her as if nothing had happened.
Another forty-six rounds later, Cedric and Cloudia decided that one hundred rounds of chess were enough for a single day. And, naturally, Cedric had won every single one.
"It's clear that you know the rules," he said. "But you're just too stiff. You're absolutely inflexible. You know the basics, the rules, the most common strategies – but you've never learned how to use them properly. You need to be alert for every move your opponent makes, and then you need to think of a fitting counterattack." Cedric collected the chessmen and put them back into the bag. He held up the Black Queen.
"See? It's you, Countess. Isn't she cute?" He grinned widely, and put the Black Queen to the others, while Cloudia rolled her eyes in annoyance. When Cedric was done collecting the chessmen, he nodded towards Cloudia's copy of The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.
"We spoke about favourite things earlier. You, for example, seem to be quite crazy about Charles Dickens." He pointed at the bookshelf. "It's full of his books."
"I just like his stories," Cloudia replied with a shrug.
"You're totally crazy about his stories, Countess." He wanted to grab The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, but Cloudia furiously slapped away his hand.
"Touch any of my books, and I will chop off your hand," she threatened him, and Cedric laughed.
"You're really enamoured of Dickens, aren't you?"
"I am just fond of his work."
"It would be more believable if you told me that shining, pink elephants exist, which can fly around and bring me to the lost empire of Atlantis," Cedric replied.
"So? I don't tease you for loving a nursery rhyme either. Which is for children. Tiny, little babies." Cloudia grinned wickedly.
"Now you're just cruel."
"Cruel? Me? I murder people for a living, but I don't make fun of people for their favourite things. You were the one who started with that!"
Cedric blinked exaggeratedly and theatrically put one hand on his chest. "I was surely not the one, who began to make fun of people for holding a ridiculous love for Charles Dickens' novels."
"Of course, you were! You even admitted it just now!"
He giggled. "I did not, Countess."
"Practically," Cloudia added, scowling.
"Not even practically. You're imagining things, Countess. I think you need to stay in bed a little longer."
She laughed for a very short moment and punched against his arm. "You're impossible, Undertaker."
Cedric smiled so brightly that even the sun would envy his glow. "At least, I am not a Charles Dickens fanatic."
The next moment, Cloudia threw a pillow at Cedric's face. Then, she tackled him, jumping out of the bed, after the pillow had sent his glasses flying and he couldn't see anything anymore. Cedric fell from the chair, and he and the chair made a terrible noise when they touched the ground. Cloudia pinned him down. Her wicked grin widened. Sometime between the throw of the pillow, her tackling, and the fall to the ground, she had been able to get the dagger which she now pressed against his throat.
"I am terribly sorry, Undertaker, but I still have not recovered in a proper manner, so, unfortunately, I could not hear the words you have just spoken." She tilted her head, the grin still on her face. "Would you be so nice and repeat them for me?"
Cedric chuckled. Apparently, he didn't mind the dagger at his throat. "You're so hilarious, Countess!"
"You should be thankful that I need you, and therefore cannot simply cut your throat," she said with a smile. "Also, this dagger is far too important to be stained by your filthy blood."
He giggled. "You're a silly, little girl, aren't you, Countess?" He poked her cheek.
"If you continue to tease me, I will not go easy on you." She pressed the dagger firmer against his throat.
From one moment to the other, Cloudia couldn't hold herself back anymore and burst into laughter. She rolled down from Cedric and reclined beside him on the carpeted ground. With the dagger pressed against her chest, Cloudia laughed loudly, and Cedric soon joined.
"I am glad that you are okay again, Countess," he said after a while.
Countryside, Wales, United Kingdom – August 1847
~Cedric~
Two days later, when Jocelyn had finally stopped being overprotective of Cloudia, said Countess told me to meet her in the living room after lunch.
I knew that she had planned something terrifying.
My theory was confirmed when I entered the living room, and Cloudia presented me her mischievous grin.
Did I mention that I had mixed feelings for this smile?
"You did come," Cloudia said, her grin gracing her face in a frightening manner. "Then, we can start."
"I know that I annoy you from time to time," Cedric suddenly blurted out. "But you cannot just murder me here! Think about the carpet! Think about poor Jocelyn and Arwyn who have to clean up my blood!"
"You're being silly," she told him, rolling her eyes. Today she wore a lavender-coloured dress with a similar frame as the dress from their picnic trip.
"I would never murder anyone when possible witnesses are around. I would have to murder them too. Do you know how troublesome this process can be? The witnesses try to run away every single time. I have to run after them every single time. They still die every single time. They just don't learn. Running away brings them nowhere. It is just an annoyance for the people who will kill them anyway.
"Therefore, I always try to murder people when no one is around. Witnesses possess too few brain cells after all to reason that their pitiful try to run away is just... pitiful. Pitiful, pathetic, and paltry."
"You have such a horrible character, Countess, when you're not engaging in some society business."
"So?" She raised one of her eyebrows. "I am one of the most powerful women in this country. I cannot live with just lovely flower arrangements and cute dresses. But enough of this nonsense. Let's get started."
With those words, Cloudia got out of the room and came back with Jocelyn a few minutes later – and Jocelyn had a violin with her.
Cloudia forced me to learn dancing.
She. Forced. Me. To. Learn. How. To. Dance.
She had forced me to remember the names of all the spoons in the world, and walk around with a staple of books on my head. She had forced me to do many, many other ridiculous things.
And now, Cloudia actually forced me to dance.
I knew that there were devils, demons in this world. I had never encountered one, though. But now I was sure that I had finally met one.
I had never imagined them to be so dreadful.
"Could you please stop stepping on my feet, my dear Duke?"
"Could you please tell Jocelyn to stop playing the violin, my dear Lady?"
"Only if you learn how to dance the Waltz properly."
"I hate you, Countess," Cedric whispered to her so that Jocelyn wouldn't hear it.
"And I will surely murder you if you don't stop stepping on my feet, Undertaker," Cloudia replied silently with a grin.
We danced for hours until Jocelyn announced that her shoulder had become stiff from playing the violin for so long. Cloudia told her that it was fine, and thanked her for the help. Jocelyn said goodbye to us and left us alone in the living room with a grin on her face. She closed the door behind her.
"You said that you wouldn't murder me," Cedric pointed out when he let himself fall down onto a chair. "Roughly speaking, people become dead when their bodies completely stop to work. And my body definitely stopped to work. Congratulations: You murdered a dead thing, Countess."
"You are far too lively to be truly dead, Undertaker," Cloudia replied and sat down on a big armchair with all her grace.
"Also, teaching you how to dance was inevitable. Sooner and later, you, the Duke Underwood, would have to dance on a party of a noble. I postponed the dancing lessons because we were terribly busy in the last months. But now, we're free again and can finally start them."
"I said that before, but I simply cannot say it often enough: I feel sorry for the children you will mother."
Cloudia rolled her eyes. "You should thank me for teaching you how to dance. You would have been mortified sooner or later otherwise."
"I should thank you for torturing me for hours?" Cedric stared at her in disbelief. "You should thank the Grim Reaper rules that I cannot kill you!"
"Well... it wouldn't have lasted so long if you hadn't two left feet," Cloudia countered.
Cedric groaned. "You're such a..."
Before he could throw one of the worst curses the world had ever heard at her, someone knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Arwyn entered, bowed in front of them and gesticulated with his hands.
Cedric nodded and gave Arwyn an answer, who then bowed again and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.
Cloudia raised an eyebrow. "You know sign language?"
"I live in this world longer than you ever will, kid," he said, standing up. His legs felt numb, but he still managed not to fall down – face forward.
"I know a lot of things." Cedric struggled to clap his hands together. "And now – let's have dinner."
"Excuse me, Lady Phantomhive, Duke Underwood," Jocelyn Blevins suddenly began when all four of them – Arwyn, Cedric, Cloudia, and her – sat around the dining table and ate Sheperd's pie – a meat pie which had a crust made of mashed potatoes. The dish was also named "Cottage pie," but only if it was baked with beef meat. If you used lamb meat, the dish's name was "Shepherd's pie." And like everything Arwyn Owens had ever cooked and will ever cook in the future, it tasted so delicious that you felt like being in heaven and personally dining with the angels.
"But are you two a couple?" Jocelyn continued her question, which resulted in Cloudia and Cedric almost choking on the meat pie simultaneously.
"We? A couple?" they exclaimed in unison after they had managed to swallow up the piece of meat pie in their mouth without dying. The next second, they faced each other in shock before beginning to murder the other with sharp glares.
Jocelyn started to laugh, while Arwyn looked up from his meal for a split second, frowned and then turned back his attention towards the Shepherd's pie.
"I am sorry if my question bothered you," Jocelyn said with a wide smile. "I was just curious because you two seem to get along very well. You are quite inseparable, and even went to holidays together."
"We were forced," they said again in unison, which resulted in another exchange of death glares.
This had become quite creepy.
"We are business partners," Cloudia explained to Jocelyn after clearing her throat. "Lately, we had a lot of work to do, and our boss forced us to take a few weeks off. But our boss also thinks it's funny to send us to holidays together."
Jocelyn laughed loudly. "You two have a fine boss."
"I wouldn't necessarily say that," Cloudia mumbled and returned to eat the meat pie. Cedric knew that, at least for her, this topic was over.
"And what is your work?" Jocelyn wanted to know.
"We are detectives," Cedric answered a bit too proudly. "We work for Scotland Yard."
Jocelyn's eyes widened. "Lady Phantomhive too? A woman as a detective! Unbelievable!"
"She is not officially a member of Scotland Yard," he informed her. "Investigating cases is one of her hobbies. She helps the Yard out a lot of times, because she has too much free time otherwise. She easily gets bored. So, she solves cases for fun. And I, as her old, loyal friend, help her." Cedric leaned forward. "Lady Cloudia is a fragile girl after all."
Cloudia kicked him under the table.
She would scold me for that later, but it was definitely worth it.
Because our time in Wales was limited and I knew that, the moment we returned to England and Cloudia resumed her duty as the Queen's Watchdog, she would become the grumpy Countess I knew again.
I couldn't make our time in Wales last forever – but I could make the best out of it.
And surely, even though Cloudia would never admit it, she would never forget our little trip to Wales – as she definitely enjoyed it as much as I did.
For my part, this trip would always be one of my most beloved memories.
Because I could meet Cloudia for the first time – and not the Countess. And because I was able to hear her laugh.
Her laugh which was as heavenly as the angels' own singing.
Puh.
I had so much FUN writing this chapter. I couldn't stop writing. But when I passed the 10 000 words mark, I told myself: "You still need to write one more chapter for this arc, you know?" So I stopped myself.
Until next week! :D
