Chapter 2: Into the Belly of the Beast

Its words are sweet.

They taste like honey.

But, whatever you do,

Don't trust the beast.

I tell you, please.

Forsake the luxuries they promise,

Disown the pleasures they give.

I tell you this for your own good, please don't turn away from me.

The honey they give is but rancid vinegar.

Those silk dresses rapidly age unkindly into dirt, old rags.

Fine, walk away. You only have yourself to blame,

I cannot help those who chose to

Bellow in the belly of the beast.

A dark cloud seemed to loom over her cottage that day.

The letter came swiftly and promptly, as was expected of the Phantomhive household. But to Elsie, gazing upon the Phantomhive family emblem, sent shivers down her spine.

It was that Sunday afternoon in which Elsie's family was cordially invited to pay a visit to the Earl of Phantomhive. Apparently, the earl was a fan of her work and proclaimed to be an enthusiastic aficionado of the supernatural, or so the letter said.

Elsie distinctly remembered the butler that tapped, what seemed to her voraciously, on the cottage door. He knocked only three times, and smiled diplomatically when the door opened for him. He was clothed in all black, as any butler would be dressed. But he seemed rather unearthly to her. His figure was slender and his jaw was chiseled to perfection and his eyes eloped all those that gazed within them. Tantalizing. Alluring. Captivating. This man was too handsome to be a butler. To handsome to even exist other than in fairy tales. He could be a kind of a magical kingdom or a wizard dispelling darkness across the lands or a knight heroically saving a princess.

But despite being unearthly handsome. He did not fit any of the wonderful options. Elsie gazed upon him, monotonously. And knew. There was no goodness in him. Him and the letter he brought, seemed like death itself rapped at their door and they kindly let him in.

Not that it mattered, the man did not look like death, especially to Elsie's mother. Whose face flushed a ridiculous shade of crimson red that would put any rose to shame, and wilt scornfully in the garden. The woman stared longingly at the butler, and it seemed to the butler that he was used to the attention.

A coach arrived for them in the following days.

Elsie gripped the sides of her best dress, that her mother painstakingly washed and ironed and dried under the sun. It was a ruffled, white dress that contrasted with her dark hair. She looked over to Frances, who wore an elaborate pink ribbon in her hair. She looked giddy and excited to meet the Earl of Phantomhive. Then there was her mother and father, nervous and uptight upon meeting someone of high society. Her father even brought his business cards with him, to grace the earl with.

Elsie wondered why they were given several days of preparation, as the butler distinctly said to her. Looking her directly in the eyes. Several days for what? Getting her story straight, her facts? Were they looking to unravel and disband everything she's done, like so many others before the Earl.

Elsie held her photo album of all the pictures she's taken, her with the fairies and others without her entirely. She opened it up and saw her marvelous creatures. They flew throughout the sky and danced on toad stools. They jumped into the water, splashing merrily as the droplets fell unto rocks like morning rain, glistening under the sun.

The coach jostled, until it came to a gradual stop. Elsie looked up from the album and through the curtained window. The bright light dulled her vision, then it slowly began to sharpen.

The coach door opened, but she could not find it in herself to step one foot out of it. She saw him and everything that he was. His cerulean hair and his sapphire eye, one hidden under a patch that did not at all hinder his beauty. There was a mischievous quirk in his smile, small but defiant. His presence was overwhelming and outshined all those around him, the maids and butlers and staff. That's exactly how he likes it.

What a ruthless creature he was for taking her breath away.

He stood there and parted his lips, angelically. "Welcome to my manor."

It was the first time Elsie walked halls whose walls seemed to be made of glittering diamonds and an abundance of jewels. (It seems Mey-rin has gone overboard on the polishing gel, well, kudos for her for not breaking every cup and saucer in the china cabinet for once. Well done.)

The family was led into the red-room, where the Earl commonly greets guests to fine tea and sweets and merry chatter, a wonderful pastime.

Elsie gazed upon the magnificent décor of the room. The tapestries and veils that hung from the ceiling, depicted chivalrous knights raising their home flag, marching straight into battle with their sights set on victory. The curtains were drawn open and basked the room with radiant beams of light against the white frames of the windows. Elsie thought, as she glanced from white window to white window that stood out from the red hues of the tapestries, walls, and furniture. She tilted her head to the side.

The room looks like the mouth of the beast, with its white teeth protruding from its crimson mouth. And Elsie was the prey, the sweet lamb, that was about to walk into the belly of the beast.

Then she smelled the alluring aroma of vanilla and cinnamon. Her favorite. She stepped inside the room and her family followed.

Frances squealed, joyfully. She was the first to run towards the platter of cookies with cream and crepes with chocolate bits and other scrumptious treats.

She stood on her tip toes as she gazed upon the glorious site of heaven in front of her. She pointed to one sweet she did not recognize. It was a stacked cookie with a cream filling, adorned with berries. "What's this?" She said.

Sebastian answered, kindly. Already serving her a platter of the cookies. "These are French macaroons, cookies and cream of assorted flavors. We have orange, cherry blossom, chocolate mousse, coconut, raspberry, strawberry, and blackberry." Frances jaw dropped as Ciel laughed.

"Don't overwhelm the young Miss, Sebastian. Please be courteous. If she can't make up her mind to which one she wants, then she must taste them all."

Sebastian spoke, daring, "Speaking from experience? That is your approach to these things as well, if I am not mistaken."

Ciel leaned forward from his chair and picked up a magenta macaroon using a silver utensil then placed it on a plate in Frances's hands. The raspberry cookie was adorned with fresh berries glistening in the center. He smiled, lightly. "These are my favorite. My butler makes the best sweets in all of Great Britain."

"My lord, I'm starting to think this is the sole reason you invite so many guests to the manor. To refrain from your studies, but most importantly to indulge in sweets."

"Is ia a sin to share our vast splendors with others?"

"According to you I think not, but what will the Queen think?"

Ciel turned towards the little girl, Frances. Who already took a bite of the cookie and was already swooning over in her chair. Then he turned to Sebastian and said, loudly. "Folly."

Frances giggled in her seat as did the rest of the family, but Elsie stayed quiet and remained contempt.

Sebastian sighed to himself as he poured several cups of tea, "If only her majesty knows."

Ciel smiled and diverted his attention from him, "And what do you think Miss Elsie? Our guest of honor. Should I tell her majesty of my timely indulgences?"

Elsie's attention was caught off guard as Sebastian handed her a cup of tea. She thanked him and said, "Not if it will displease her majesty."

Ciel grinned as he pierced the skin of the cookie with a spoon. Cookie flakes jumped down onto the porcelain plate. "Then I'll tell her something else, such as spending my time dedicated to my tasks rather than eating sweets on her valuable time."

"Well," Elsie said, "I think that will displease her even more if you lie to her majesty."

"You're right. God knows how ill she tolerates liars filling up the streets of our home, Great Britain. What do you think her majesty does to liars, Elsie?" Ciel smiled. Silence slithered through the room, the only sound to erupt was the crunch of cookies in the spectators' mouths as they watched the witty battle brew in front of them. Elsie looked beneath that angelic grin of Ciel Phantomhive and saw the face of a mischievous goblin, relishing in the trouble it has stirred. "Do speak loudly, I am faint of hearing."

Sebastian smirked at the remark. The young master's hearing is roughly but weak. He even hears the pitter patter of footsteps outside his bedroom walls when he is trying to sleep. Sebastian usually takes it upon himself to walk a little more forcefully than his normal feather light footsteps.

The goblin patiently waited for her response and she gave it to him.

"She raises the tax of milk and sugar. And suddenly people start telling the truth again." Elsie said, with a strong voice. Suddenly, she heard a stifled chuckle behind her. It was Sebastian, the butler, with a hand covering his mouth.

"It seems my butler agrees with you." Ciel said. Then he wondered, if he wasn't exempt from taxes and had to empty his pockets to the queen like everyone else. He thought he would surely go bankrupt. One, Ciel spared no expense for sugar. Two, he spared no expense to cease lying. Surely, he would be penniless in less than a year. He coughed, "Let's put aside all this lying nonsense, since it doesn't involve any of us. Elsie, would you care to show me the photographs you've taken of the fairies. I've heard they are so realistic, but the newspaper fails to give it its due justice."

Elsie knew that this boy, only a little older than she was, was trying to provoke her. Provoke her to come clean and reveal her secrets. He can taunt her all he likes, but he will not get the best of her. Instead, she smiled and handed him the album of all the photographs she has taken with the Cottingley fairies.

Ciel flipped the pages with his servants noticeably trying to peer at the pictures from behind him. Finnian and Mey-rin were the first to give rational excuses as to the reason the why they were needed in the red-room. Mey-rin said that the windows weren't properly polished, despite them being perfectly spotless. Finnian said the flower vases needed watering, despite them being made of wax. Baldroy was also there, but only to keep the two of them in check, despite looking the most delighted when seeing a photograph of a small fairy whisk through the sky.

Frances stood next to Ciel and exclaimed which photos were her favorite. Which were all of them, to be precise.

"Wow! They're real fairies!" chimed Finnian.

"Like the ones in fairy tales!" exclaimed Mey-rin.

"I wonder if there are any back home in America. Ma would love to see them." Said Baldroy.

Ciel fingers lingered over the pictures as if he was trying to uncover what truly laid beneath them. But all he saw were these lithe, mystical creatures. Whose bodies danced and jumped and flew with so much rhythm. Their wings, caught fragments of the light and appeared white on the gray scale photograph. Ciel looked up at Elsie, "Did you hear that, Miss Elsie? You got the whole country to believe in magic again. Not just anyone can do that." He gazed upon another picture, one with a fairy using a leaf as an umbrella to protect itself against the blinding sun.

"Thank you."

"What's your secret?" Ciel said, looking up at her.

"I have none." She said, as Sebastian put another cookie on her plate, despite no longer being hungry.

"Everyone has secrets."

"It's no secret that anyone can take a picture and submit it to the newspaper. I just got lucky they picked mine."

"So, if I take my camera and go out into the garden now, will I stumble across fairies?"

"That depends upon them and if they want their pictures taken. Fairies are notoriously shy."

"But not around you."

"I am fortunate enough, but yes."

Ciel smirked and snapped his fingers. When he did, Sebastian immediately brought out a small camera, which was composed of a wooden box, shutter, and lid. He laid the contraption in Ciel's hands. "It would be an hour for you to bring me good fortune, Miss Elsie."

The Phantomhive garden was nothing like the cottingley meadows.

The bushes and trees were well cut and cropped into simple and clean shapes. While the flowers were planted neatly beside the other in orderly lines.

Ciel and Elsie walked on and on, and it was no surprise that they did not find a single fairy. Far in the background, they heard the laughs of Frances being carried on Finnian's back. He loved making children laugh.

"Tell me, Miss Elsie." Ciel said while walking through the garden. The camera laid around his neck with a black strap. His cane tapped unkindly on the cobblestone pathway. "Now that we are in secrecy, how does one come upon this seldom meeting with a fairy? But it seems to me that they do not wish to meet us as much as I would like to meet them."

Elsie swallowed, looking down then up at the Earl. His presence was fore boarding and she couldn't help but feel a chill in the air when his gaze locked onto her. She spoke, confidently. "It is not at all seldom as you may think. It is quite easy, actually. I have played with fairies my entire life in Cottingley. Near the cottage and in the meadows and sometimes in the creak. They are in an abundance there. But here… there are none."

"Are you sure? I may have misunderstood moments ago when you said fairies weren't shy around you."

"It is not my or your presence, but the garden itself. Your garden is lovely and the best I've seen but, forgive me for saying, it's not home."

"Not home? The best horticulturalists and artisans have designed my garden to perfection. Also, there are no weeds in the cracks or vines crawling up trees and breaking through breaks or wild flowers growing in the pond. It is home to me."

"To you it is, but not to the fairies. You got rid of everything they call home. They love the weeds and dandelions protruding through the cracks in cobblestones. They love the vines growing on the side of trees and brick walls which they use to climb and play."

"Let me guess, they love the wild flowers growing in ponds too."

"They love that the most."

Ciel thought for a moment then said. "It seems I will have to tell my gardener to refrain from properly maintaining the gardens. But I'm surprised to hear that you say it's easy to spot fairies. I'm sad to say London has cheated me out of this magical encounter, while it has looked so kindly on you. I have lived in London my entire life, and I have yet to see a spritely creature with wings pass by my bedroom window."

"Something is amiss if birds or bugs or bats do not bid you good day at your windowsill. I'm so sorry for your unhappiness, Earl."

"Indeed, there is." Ciel smiled, amused. "I'm sad to say that I am not too fond of nature and those that dwell within it like moths and caterpillars and horseflies. I dare say, that they are not too fond of me, so I do my best to avoid them at all costs."

"Well, the wilderness is a dangerous place. Many people agree, but may I ask? Horseflies, my lord? They are the most docile of insects. Even their wings are patterned differently from each of their sister species and radiate their own unique beauty. In fact, their wings are the most like a fairy's."

Ciel closed his eyes and shook, just a little, enough to make Elsie giggle. Which was surprising that a wicked person like him can make her do, "I beg of you, let's change the subject shall we."

"Of course, but what if we were to come across a horsefly? Which is not seldom during this time of year. Will you leave me in its company?"

"It is against Phantomhive hospitality to leave a guest amongst themselves wandering aimlessly through the dangers of the world. I will not stand for it."

"In the garden?"

"Precisely."

"I am glad to know that I am safe in your company. What of outside the garden then? Surely there are more frightening things out there?" Elsie said, then immediately regretted when she saw the look in the Earl's eye. Wide and shocked. Elsie wished she could take back her words, it was rude of her to suggest that her, a commoner, would be affiliated with an aristocrat out in the public's eye. She was about to apologize until he turned towards her and stopped walking. He stepped forward, only a little.

"You are a valued guest at my home. Today. I know not of tomorrow and the days after and the circumstances for you and I that lie outside my gates."

"I'm apologize for my overfamiliarity in manner."

"Don't be. I grow weary in a house full of familiarity." Ciel looked past his shoulder and paused. "Shall we test the subject?"

"I beg your pardon."

Ciel looked towards the end of the garden, past the weeping willows whose branches dangled lifelessly towards the ground. They flittered over the grass and over the wild flowers, untouched by Finnian's hands. At the end of the garden there is a stable, which carries a few interesting commodities. A few pure bread horses and the first of its kind, an automobile.

"My dear, shall we venture beyond these gates and see if the world is truly frightening as you claim?"

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