A/N: Salutations, all of my wonderful viewers! I hope that you are all having a great day! :D

After months of planning and working on the first episode of the series, it's officially time for us to finish up "His Butler & Nanny, Able" before moving on to the next episode! Not only that, but after everything that has happened in the previous chapter, I bet that you're all at least a tiny bit relieved to be getting back to the official episode! I most definitely am as well, but let's keep in mind that there's still plenty to learn about Elise. Those flashbacks will come and go throughout the story, so you'll never know what else you'll find out! Keep an eye out! ;)

Now, before jumping in, I would like to take the time to thank you all once again for enjoying this story so far and for adding it to your lists of favorites and/or follows. That means a lot to me. :D I would also like to thank everyone for being patient with me, considering how I'm juggling schoolwork and writing other minor works on the side of this. You're all awesome and I'm grateful to have one hell of an audience. ;D

Also, once again, please remind yourself that I usually take 1-2 weeks off between every update in order to give me a chance to relax my brain and plan the next chapter. I wouldn't want to rush the chapters and make them come out all sloppy, so thank you for understanding that my updates will require time and patience.

Furthermore, I absolutely adore feedback and I always look forward to receiving thoughts from my viewers! Please, don't hesitate to share your opinions on this story in the reviews or you can PM them to me at anytime. Make sure to review and make my day! :D

Quick Message: I am very well-aware that my chapters are lengthy. I allow them to be long because I simply enjoy writing lengthy works and I want to make sure that you all have something worth reading after waiting for the update. Nonetheless, I'm going to start including bookmarks in each of my chapters, meaning that every few thousand words or so, I'll be incorporating a place for you all to stop reading if necessary. That way, if something comes up and you need to come back to finish reading later, you'll be able to find where you left off. :)

Warning: This chapter will include some sexual conversations, as well as graphic descriptions of violent acts and bloodshed. If you do not feel comfortable with any of that, please proceed with caution.

Well, I believe that's all I wanted to say for now. It's time for you all to sit back, relax, and enjoy the final part of "His Butler & Nanny, Able." I'll see you all again in the end! Here we go!

Elise's POV

I walked down one of the narrow corridors of the Servants' Area, listening to my high-heeled boots clicking against the floor with every step that I took. My wine-colored eyes were narrowed in deep concentration, while one of my gloved hands were curled into a loose fist and positioned underneath my chin. To some, I might've looked pissed; but that wasn't the case at all. On the contrary, I was trying—and surprisingly managing—to push that intense flashback to the back of my mind while also attempting to juggle the dozens of concerns and unanswered questions that I had about Mr. Damiano. By this point, it was clear to me that whatever his intentions with Bocchan were, they weren't the intentions of a typical guest. However, as of now, what wasn't clear to me was what Mr. Damiano actually wanted and why he eagerly agreed to schedule an appointment with Master Ciel in the first place.

"Hmm ... by this point, not much effort is needed for me to understand that there's something suspicious going on with Mr. Damiano. His behavior is definitely beginning to concern me. Not only did he seem to be highly against me being present during his meeting with my Puny Master, but he also had the audacity to make such an extravagant request almost immediately upon starting. An additional twelve thousand pounds after the Small Lord was generous enough to donate a few thousand pounds beforehand?" I almost scoffed, shaking my head a little to myself in disapproval before continuing to think. "If he were asking for just a hundred or so extra pounds, that would be far more understandable ... but twelve thousand? Even after trying to take it into consideration that Mr. Damiano had said that the money was needed to support their desired expansion, I still don't see any reason behind why that would require that much of an additional loan."

I squinted even more, thinking back to when Mr. Damiano had first arrived at the estate. When he stepped out of the carriage, he had seemed like a well-mannered gentleman, complimenting the elegance of the Stone Garden, the wisdom that was common among the Phantomhive name, and even my physical beauty. Although, when Tanaka and I were helping Mr. Damiano find the Drawing Room by escorting him through the manor, everything about his character seemed to change for just a couple of seconds—despite how it felt like it had lasted much longer. I could easily remember how he had dropped his voice into what was like a seductive whisper ... and from the corner of my eye, I could've sworn that I saw him examining every inch of my body that he could with lust in his denim-blue eyes and a naughty grin on his face. A little earlier, I had convinced myself to just ignore it ... but now, after observing more of Mr. Damiano's behavior, I was beginning to wonder if I really had just been paranoid.

"Our guest certainly has multiple sides of him ... and despite how common that is among humans, there is a time and place for everything. If Mr. Damiano really was looking at me in a lewd manner..." I inhaled and rested my rested my eyes shut for a moment, feeling something inside of me shutter in disgust at the recent memory. "...Regardless of how I'm not at all flattered, he shouldn't have been doing such a thing at a time like this. Not only is he in my Small Lord's manor, but he is supposed to be here to talk business and I am nothing more than a loyal servant to the Phantomhive estate. Perhaps, I really am just allowing paranoia to get the best of me ... but I'm afraid that I can't tell at this particular moment. Whatever it is that Mr. Damiano is up to ... I'm sure as hell going to get to the bottom of it."

His Butler & Nanny, Able (Part III)

Just then, after a couple of more seconds, I found my many thoughts getting put to a halt and I ceased in my tracks when I heard the sound of a familiar voice speaking out to me.

"Elise?"

I wiped the concentrated look off my face. Then, with my brow furrowed, I turned my head in order to look down another deteriorating hallway of the Servants' Area. Just as I'd expect, it was Sebastian. He was emerging from the dimness of the shadows at the opposite end of the corridor, courtesy of how there weren't hardly any windows in this specific part of the mansion and a couple of the ceiling lights needed to be repaired. While watching Sebastian appear, there was a piece of my mind that could've sworn for a brief moment that I had seen the faint outline of the faintly ripped, leather outfit that he had been wearing in the unpleasant flashback from minutes before. Nonetheless, when he came entirely into the light, I wasn't surprised to see that he was actually still wearing his proper butler uniform.

I blinked a couple of times and lowered my hand from beneath my chin, forcing myself to continue shoving that prior memory that involved the Locust and the Serpent to the furthest back part of my brain.

"Ah. Hello again, Sebastian." I said with perfect nonchalance, just as he finished approaching me. "I assume that you just finished setting up the table outdoors for Bocchan's dinner with Mr. Damiano. Is that correct?"

"Well, almost. I finished applying the tablecloth and I made sure to use some of the centerpieces that you had put together to add even more elegance to the atmosphere. However, I'm still waiting on Mey-Rin to locate the newest sets of chinaware that you had suggested, courtesy of that whole catastrophe from earlier." Sebastian explained, unable to resist rolling his eyes at the mention of the list of disasters that had occurred just hours before. Shortly after that, he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow at me. "Now, might I ask for the reason behind why you're wandering through these halls instead of remaining by our Young Lord's side and supervising his meeting?"

I stared directly into his scarlet orbs while giving my answer. "Bocchan instructed me to check on the dinner preparations after his stomach just so happened to growl."

"Oh, really? ... How convenient. I was just on my way to do the same thing. Which reminds me, I've been meaning to tell you something. Earlier, when we finished cleaning up the kitchen and you left to construct all of those origami cranes and Japanese flowers, I had managed to find the tiniest shred of luck that had miraculously survived the debacles of ... those three." Sebastian had left out a small scoff before saying those final two words, not even bothering to hide the vague irritation that was dripping from his accent at the mention of Mey-Rin, Finny, and Bard. Then, after softly shaking his head in a way that showed that he was trying to forget about it, my brother continued speaking professionally. "I was about to dispose of the premium meats, but noticed before doing so that there was one particular meat—the beef—that Baldroy had failed to ruin entirely. Despite how charred the outside was, the inside was still remarkably fresh and untouched by the flamethrower!"

I bat my eyelashes like a small child, already knowing where this story was going since there wasn't enough time remaining before dinner to properly cook and prepare the beef as exquisitely as the butler and I had been planning on before the chef took it upon himself to bring his beloved flamethrower back into the kitchen.

"We're going to serve raw meat to the Small Lord and Mr. Damiano for dinner?" I asked, definitely sounding more concerned than anything since I already knew what the answer to that question was. "I understand that we're running low on time and we lost a majority of ingredients that could possibly be used to create a whole new meal after Bardroy's little ... outbreak. But are you sure that uncooked beef is a good idea, Sebastian? After all, you and I of all people know how much of a picky eater Bocchan is and whenever there's a guest visiting the mansion, he has even higher expectations for his meals."

"Yes, I am well aware of that. Fortunately, I was able to recall a specific recipe from a Japanese cookbook that I had just so happened to look over in the near past. It was referred to as Donburi. It's a dish that is served in the style of a rice bowl, consisting of silken tofu with ground beef that is cooked in an intensely flavorful sauce. It's simple to make, it's not too spicy and won't upset our Young Lord's stomach or tastebuds, and it would go along splendidly with our new theme." Sebastian explained everything with a wise glint in his eyes and a cheeky grin molded across his lips. "Plus, as of now, the only other ingredients that we have in stock are appropriate for bean soup. That would be a disgrace to serve at a time like this, especially since Bocchan only accepts bean soup when he's bedridden and you're the one that prepares it."

At first, when the butler was describing the solution for the Puny Earl's dinner with Mr. Damiano, I had to admit that I felt at least a little impressed. A small smile that almost perfectly resembled a satisfied smirk appeared on my face, just as I placed my hands on my hips and gave a faint nod of approval. However, as Sebastian went on to mention bean soup ... my grin gradually faltered and a faint, distant, somewhat disturbed look appeared in my eyes. It was true that Master Ciel only accepted a "low class" dish like bean soup whenever he was ill and it was also true that he only ate it when I was the one who made it for him. It was the only meal that nobody else, not even Sebastian, could prepare for the Little Lord ... and I was the only one who knew the reason as to why. It was just one of the many secrets that I had up my sleeve.

I pretended to clear my throat, not wanting to wait too long to say something back in order to prevent my brother from becoming skeptical again. At the same time, I removed my hands from my hips and pretended to smooth out a couple of wrinkles from the skirt of my dress. Then, I neatly folded my hands in front of myself and made eye contact with the butler again.

"Yes, well ... Donburi sounds just fine, Sebastian. I must say, I applaud you for coming up with an idea like that on such short notice." I said, sounding so natural to the point where it would've been difficult to believe that my mind had just been violated by a couple of other thoughts. "Judging by the description, I can already tell that the Small Master and Mr. Damiano will be incredibly satisfied."

Despite how I had fallen silent for no more than five seconds before giving my reply, that was still long enough Sebastian to look a little suspicious again. He blinked a couple of times, staring at me with this particular look in his eyes that gave it away that he had noticed my brief moment of hesitation. Nonetheless, after his own faint pause, he ended up nodding his head in agreement and carrying on the conversation.

"Speaking of the Young Lord and his guest, how does their meeting appear to be going so far?"

I almost hesitated again after receiving that question, but I refused to allow myself to falter for a second time in a row. Instead, I forced my rose-colored lips to stretch into an appealing grin that was very believable.

"Oh, everything is going just fine." I declared just as convincingly. "Bocchan is listening to Mr. Damiano speak about the latest progress of the East India Factory while the two of them enjoy an interesting round of Road to Ruins. Like always, the Small Lord appears to be in the lead by multiple spaces."

At my final sentence, Sebastian's lips slowly curled into a faint smirk that was full of mischief and he bowed his head as he did his best to stifle a single snicker that would send chills up the spine of any mere mortal. Then, after a couple of seconds, he lifted his gaze back up to me with his porcelain face now decorated with a smile that was much friendlier and more content.

"I can't say that I'm at all surprised. After all, when it comes to any particular game, challenge, or obstacle, the Young Master isn't one who just rolls over and allows himself to lose. No matter the difficulty or the identity of the opponent ... Bocchan is always determined to overcome who or whatever gets in his way." Sebastian pointed out, in which I was able to easily detect some slyness and amusement that was buried underneath his nonchalant accent. "Anyhow, it sounds to me like everything is going rather productively. It won't be long before the clock strikes the dining hour, so we better check on the meal preparations. Shall we?"

"Certainly." I answered, actually agreeing with everything that my brother had said and not just his request for the two of us to continue our way down to the kitchen.

Sebastian made a gesture for me to take the first step, so I obliged. Then, as the two of us pursued down the corridor in complete silence, I replayed that moment multiple times in my head, already knowing exactly how the butler would've reacted if I had told him anything about my suspicions towards Mr. Damiano.

It would've been no different to the conversation that Sebastian and I earlier this morning about Mr. Hughes's mysterious cancellation. There was no proof that Mr. Hughes had canceled his appointment with Master Ciel in order to attend his meeting with some unidentified person, just like there wasn't any proof that Mr. Damiano was up to something. He might've asked the Puny Earl for an extra twelve thousand pounds, but aside from my intuition, there was no solid evidence that could be used against the Italian businessman. Plus, when it came to the other situation with him crudely observing me, I still wasn't one hundred percent positive over that ... and despite how Sebastian would've made sure to keep an eye out, he still would've said that we needed to make sure that we didn't jump to any conclusions. With that being said, I didn't want to risk disrupting the Small Lord's appointment and I was willing to handle whatever was going on here by myself for the time being.

Eventually, after turning down a couple of more corners and following each other side-by-side down at least five more hallways, my brother and I had finally made it to the kitchen. We halted in the doorway and looked in, witnessing Bard position the large hunk of blackened beef on one of its ends before he used a cleaver to begin carefully severing at one side. Finny was also in the room, standing on the opposite side of the island and watching the chef do his job with a pure smile of genuine accomplishment covering his face.

I could smell the rich scents of difference sauces and other delectable ingredients swirling together in the air, which made it even more difficult to believe that just a couple of hours prior, the kitchen had been filled with smoke, ashes, and the unpleasant smell of fire. I had to admit, regardless of everything that was going on with Mr. Damiano, it was still pleasing to see everything else managing to come together—especially with the help of the other servants. Although, while I grinned in an encouraging manner at the gardener and the chef, the butler remained unimpressed by what we were seeing and wore an expression that was strictly business.

"How's it going?" Sebastian inquired, speaking up first.

"I'm doin' it like you said to." Bard answered. He stopped slicing and turned to show the meat to Sebastian and I, flashing a hopeful smile. "Is this really what you want?"

A pleased expression crossed over my brother's face as he replied with, "Yes, that looks excellent."

"And it all smells just as magnificent." I chipped in, sounding just as delighted as I looked. "I am deeply satisfied to see how well you've all been doing with working together on the dinner preparations while I've been supervising the Young Master's meeting. Now, with the food coming along nicely, it looks like all we have left to do is arrange what's left at the table. After that, we'll be all set for the Small Lord and his guest."

Suddenly, within seconds after Sebastian gave me a faint nod of agreement, there was the sound of a somebody's footsteps coming down from the opposite end of the hallway. Accompanying that, there was also the sound of multiple items being jingled around and the familiar, high-pitched, squeaky voice of Mey-Rin called out, "Sebaaasstiaaan! Ellliissse! Found 'eeeeemmmm!"

With no hesitation, the butler and I turned our heads with similar, cautious, almost surprised expressions now decorating our faces. That's when we saw the maid trotting down the corridor with a delighted smile spread widely across her lips and plenty of sealed boxes stacked unevenly in her arms. With every skip that she made, the boxes bounced and became even more unbalanced. However, Mey-Rin didn't seem to notice, too caught up in giggling like an excited child to realize that one of her bootlaces had come undone.

"Mey-Rin! You really must be careful!" I tried to alert her with my magenta orbs already wide enough to perfectly match the size of cricket balls. "Look out for—!"

Before I could finish, the bespectacled woman had already stepped on the loose lace and in less than a second, her bubbly grin completely transformed into a look of pure panic.

"AAAHHH!" Mey-Rin squawked as she immediately flew forward. In the process, she lost her hold on the stack of fragile boxes and sent each one in a different direction.

Sebastian and I didn't think twice before jumping into action, literally pouncing in the maid's direction with our eyes filled with a blend of urgency and determination. With no difficulties whatsoever, my brother simply held his hand out and managed to catch four of the boxes. They landed perfectly on top of each other, while Sebastian also stuck out his leg a little in order to save a fifth box by having it land on the head of his boot. I, on the other hand, preformed a one-handed cartwheel and, with a split second left to spare, saved a sixth box by sliding the tip of my boot underneath it. Then, after skillfully kicking it back up into the air to prevent it from coming in contact with the ground, I managed to stretch my arms out and catch a seventh box in my hands. At last, with a sigh of relief, I caught the sixth box on my right shoulder and held it there while positioning the final box safely against my left hip. Now, I stood with my back facing one of the dozens of white doors that lined the corridor.

There was definite reluctance in Sebastian's crimson orbs as he locked his attention back on Mey-Rin, making it obvious that he was debating over whether or not he should catch her since she was completely accident-prone and this sort of behavior was nothing new. Nonetheless, with a silent huff, my brother remained where he was and was unmoved when the maid fell into his chest with a small, embarrassed yelp.

"Oh, honestly." Sebastian said, looking down at maid with an almost pitiful expression and making her become the exact same shade as a raspberry. "How many times have I told you not to run inside the manor, Mey-Rin?"

"And how many times do I have to make it clear that we, as Phantomhive servants, must be careful in order to avoid getting ourselves injured?" I inquired as I raised my eyebrows and made sure to speak in a tone that was calm, yet serious. "I believe that this is second or even the third time that I've said it today."

Mey-Rin let out a small shriek and balled her fists up, holding them up to her smoldering cheeks like a nervous child as she quickly scurried backwards. She then exclaimed, "I'm so sorry, sir! Mistress! My glasses cracked and I can't see a thing!"

I exhaled and eventually put on the faintest sliver of a smile, knowing that this situation wasn't worth fretting over since I had much bigger and far more important matters to focus on this evening.

"Don't worry, Mey-Rin. I'll fix them again later on this evening before bed. In the meantime, please retie your bootlace and refrain yourself from hurrying through the mansion like that from here on out."

"Gah!" Mey-Rin gasped, making it seem like all of her hair had stood up as she looked down and noticed that her bootlace had indeed come undone. After that, she immediately dropped herself down onto one knee and anxiously began to jumble the laces together as she proclaimed, "O-oh, yes! O-of course, Mistress Elise!"

Meanwhile, Sebastian casually kicked the one box that had been balanced on his foot upward and had it land perfectly on top of the stack that he was still holding in his one hand. After that, he spun around on his heel and made eye contact with me while declaring, "These are the last items we needed for dinner. "

At that very moment, as I nodded my head a little in agreement and continued to hold the other two boxes that I had saved, Bard and Finny poked their heads out of the kitchen in order to see what was going on. They were like a pair of confused puppies, taking a glance at Mey-Rin before they locked their attention on me and my brother.

In unison, Sebastian and I turned our heads in the direction of the chef and the gardener with grins molded across our lips. Although, while the butler's smile seemed more forced and staged, my grin was definitely more genuine and promising.

"Splendid work, everyone. And now I believe you can leave the rest of it to me, as well as Elise, and relax for a bit. But we'll need you to do well, very well, during dinner tonight." Sebastian concluded, obviously keeping his eyes closed in order to hide the viciously serious look that was in them when he emphasized how our other colleagues needed to advertise their grandest behavior if ever in Mr. Damiano's presence.

Bard stared at the butler with large, somewhat uneasy eyes. "He said it twice..."

"Ooh, that's serious." Finny chipped in, speaking in a tone that sounded much more mesmerized and respectful.

Shortly afterwards, while remaining on her knees, Mey-Rin raised her hands back up to her rosy face and stared at Sebastian like she was seconds away from sprouting wings in order to fly up to heaven. At the same time, while I stifled a couple of chuckles from the irony of that thought, the maid drew out a quiet, squeaky, moan-like noise that sounded shy, anxious, and enticed all in one. It honestly made me think of a sound that a virgin would make while being in the process of building up passion through tender caresses and kisses, shortly before preparing themselves mentally for their first time of being intimate.

With a small flick of my wrist, I tossed the one box that I had been holding against my hip up to the top of Sebastian's stack and it landed neatly where I wanted it to. Then, while keeping the other box where it was on my shoulder, I walked over to Mey-Rin, knelt down near her, and snapped her out of her trance by wrapping one of my arms around hers. After that, I helped lift her back up onto her feet and she nervously fiddled around her glasses a little after realizing that I must've seen her gawking at my brother.

"Mey-Rin, Finny ... the two of you can go down to the cellar to locate the particular wine that I had specially ordered a couple of days ago for this occasion. It shouldn't be too difficult to find and you'll definitely know the vintage that I'm speaking about when you see it. Afterwards, you both can see if you can find Tanaka in order to let him know that he's also free to take a break from doing ... whatever it is that he usually does." I instructed, untangling my arm from around Mey-Rin's arm as I flicked my attention back and forth from her to Finny.

"Right, Mistress Elise!" Mey-Rin nearly blurted as she flew her hand up to her forehead, as if she were saluting me with a new look of determination on her face.

"You can count on us!" Finny agreed with his eyes sparkling like two shooting stars of pure excitement, more than likely because he had just been given a new task to handle. After all, courtesy of his "special" strength, Sebastian and the Puny Lord hardly permitted for him to do anything that wasn't related to gardening—but I was different. Not only that, but with him having the maid at his side, I figured that the two of them would be able to balance each other out and they would be able to prevent anymore accidents.

I then jumped my gaze over to the chef. "As for you, Bard, you can finish what's left of the dinner preparations and after you're done, you can place everything neatly on the trolley."

He breathed a small chuckle, seeming flattered by how much I trusted him, and crossed his arms over his chest. Afterwards, he said, "Consider it done."

"Now, everyone, let's move quickly, but responsibly." Sebastian chipped in authoritatively, in which he pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time before stashing it away again. "Dinner is scheduled to take place in less than half an hour. With that being said, it's time to finish all of the preparations."

In unison, Mey-Rin, Baldroy, and Finny said, "Right!"

After that, as the chef disappeared back into the kitchen and the maid began trotting down the corridor with the gardener at her side, my brother turned his head back over to me. Again, the two of us stared directly into each other's eyes.

"Let's unseal these boxes and get the chinaware placed in their correct spots at the outdoor dining table right away." Sebastian instructed with his accent still authoritative, but calmer than what it was when he was speaking to the three other servants.

Once more, I only nodded in response and together, the butler and I began to walk down the opposite end of the same hallway that Finny and Mey-Rin had traveled down in order to make it outside.

A/N: Bookmark #1

The remaining time ticked by in what felt like the blink of an eye, but it was a major relief to know that Sebastian and I had—once again—managed to take control of an inconvenient situation in order to prevent it from determining Bocchan's fate during his meeting. Just as I suspected, Bard had succeeded in his simple task, while Mey-Rin and Finny had also managed to locate the particular wine that I had picked out for this exact evening. Not only that, but with her trembling hands, the maid had willingly decided to take the instructions a step further by uncorking the bottle in order to pour a majority of the expensive beverage into the fancy, sterling silver bottle that we used for serving alcoholic drinks. Plus, according to Finny, he and Mey-Rin had found Tanaka in his bedroom, still in chibi form and sitting at his desk with his legs folded beneath him. So, with everything now prepared, it was finally dinnertime.

Like always, my brother and I stood at each other's sides as we walked all the way back to the Drawing Room in announce the news. When we made it, I took the liberty to knock three times and, after a brief pause, Sebastian opened the door. The Little Lord and Mr. Damiano were already staring in our direction ... and at the sight of the estate's guest, I immediately knew that my eyes had darkened a little. Although, unless somebody truly took the time to stare at me and examine my face for a long enough period, it wasn't very noticeable—just as I wanted it.

Sebastian spoke up first, "Pardon the interruption, but dinner is served."

"Oh, dinning out in that exquisite stone garden?" Mr. Damiano said, sounding just as delighted as he looked. "Shall we go, my Lord?"

Master Ciel nonchalantly glanced back at him. "Very well, we'll finish the game later."

As soon as he received that particular response, Mr. Damiano stopped himself from pushing himself out of his chair and he almost slumped back in what I could tell must've secretly been disappointment. After all, this wasn't the first time that the Small Earl had played a game of any sort with a guest and I had observed plenty of different reactions. Some were genuinely amused and happy to go along with it, some were surprised by the experience and full of praise for Bocchan's different choices as a noble figure ... and some were like Mr. Damiano.

"Oh, is there any real need to finish it?" Mr. Damiano asked with the pleasure in his smile noticeably faltering a little. "It's obvious I'm-a going to lose."

A soft smirk peeled across Bocchan's lips as he stood up from his seat. "I'm not in the habit of abandoning games halfway through."

At first, the Italian businessman didn't seem to show any sort of reaction ... but as soon as he saw the Small Master beginning to head towards the door with his back now facing his direction, Mr. Damiano's expression completely changed. He rose his thumb up to his temple, now wearing an unamused and bitter glare that almost made it seem like he was secretly trying to battle the urge to strangle Master Ciel.

"How childish..." Mr. Damiano grumbled, definitely not keeping his voice low enough.

Almost immediately, the Puny Earl froze in his tracks and turned his head back over in the older gentleman's direction with a fiery look in his exposed, sapphire eye. At the same time, my wine-colored orbs burned like hot coals as I stared directly at the manor's guest and I slowly grinded my teeth behind my closed lips. Although, courtesy of how it was part of my job to maintain my character as the "ideal nanny," I had to hold myself back from looking as intimidating as I wanted to.

At the sight of Bocchan's displeased stare, a slight, nervous sweat appeared on Mr. Damiano's face and he didn't think twice before trying to recover.

"Oh, I ... I mean that sometimes it takes a child's eyes to see what's really important." He spoke perkily all over again, already wearing a brand new smile that almost perfectly matched the one that he had been showing off upon his arrival. "It's a true gift. Maybe that's what's made the Phantomhive's the nation's foremost toy makers. It certainly impresses me!"

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the Italian nobleman, obviously not falling for his attempt at backtracking on his previous insult towards our Young Master. However, I couldn't exactly tell whether this now meant that my brother now understood that something wasn't right with Mr. Damiano or not. I couldn't help but doubt it, only because Sebastian hadn't been around to witness much of Mr. Damiano's behavior. Not only that, but even if Sebastian did notice that something was off about this whole appointment, he wouldn't be allowed to break out of his "perfect servant" character either.

"Heh!" I said with false amusement, almost making it sound like I was releasing a single laugh that was completely drained of any genuine efforts. It was awfully monotone, courtesy of the bullshit that I was definitely smelling in the presence of Mr. Damiano.

It took less than a second before I gained the attention of the butler, the Little Lord, and the mansion's guest. All three of them were giving me different expressions. Bocchan was staring at me with a blank face, obviously not bothered by my abrupt outburst. Sebastian, on the other hand, still had his ruby-colored orbs narrowed from the Italian businessman and he was peeking over at me from the corner of his eye with an eyebrow raised. Lastly, Mr. Damiano was staring at me like a confused child, evidently trying to make it seem like that moment from before had never happened.

"Pardon, Miss Michaelis?" Mr. Damiano said with his accent drenched in phony—though somewhat realistic—innocence and slight bewilderment.

I stared at him with the straightest face before breaking out almost unexpectedly into a new, staged, charming grin that almost looked too wide to be natural. In fact, my change in expression was so abrupt to the point where I could've sworn that I had seen the tiniest hint of a grimace come from the denim-eyed gentleman.

"Oh, that's just exactly what I thought you meant when you used a word like 'childish' to describe my Young Lord, Mr. Damiano. It's nothing more than that." I answered convincingly, despite how there was also something buried in my voice that made it obvious that I was secretly holding a grudge against the Italian businessman for mocking my Master.

Shortly after that, my unsettling grin disappeared from my face like it was never there and it was instantly replaced by a friendlier, warmer, much more delightful smile. Then, I redirected my attention over to Bocchan.

"Now, Young Master, Sebastian will be doing the honors of escorting you outside to the stone garden for dinner." I said, keeping my gloved hands neatly folded in front of myself. "In the meantime, I will be leading our guest to the same destination."

Master Ciel remained natural as he simply replied with, "Fine."

For a brief moment, my brother stared at me with confusion appearing vaguely in his eyes. I could tell that he must've been wondering why I had insisted on being the one to escort Mr. Damiano when he was usually the servant that assisted our guests. Nonetheless, Sebastian chose not to say anything to me and he gestured for Bocchan to leave the Drawing Room first.

"After you, Young Lord."

The Puny Master exited the room and, with the butler following shortly behind, began walking down the hall. I, on the other hand, remained where I was with my flawless posture lined up against the door and I took a moment to watch as the two of them. Eventually, when they made it close to the end of the corridor and were just about to vanish around the corner, I witnessed Sebastian cease in his tracks and take the opportunity to take a glance back at me from over his shoulder. He had a suspicious look in his eyes, but he didn't get the chance to stare at me for long. In order to avoid getting hollered at by the Small Earl, the butler silently turned away and continued his way around the corner, vanishing from sight.

I straightened my lips for a couple of seconds, immediately recalling all of my unanswered questions and concerns that related to the Italian businessman. Nonetheless, in order to prevent myself from giving it away that I already knew that there was something not right with this appointment, I had myself maintain a nonchalant face as I turned my head back over in Mr. Damiano's direction. Upon doing that, it almost immediately came to my attention that he was looking at me from the corner of his eye; but not even a split second after I glanced back, Mr. Damiano made it seem like all he had been doing was getting ready to rub a small itch away from the corner of his eye. Then, shortly after that, the denim-eyed gentleman did something that I didn't necessarily see coming.

At first, while standing up from his chair, Mr. Damiano reached one of his hands up to the side of his neck, as if he was trying to rub away a small kink, and stretched. Although, I found that part to be understandable since it was natural for humans to need to stretch their bodies after staying in the same place for long periods of time. However, what I wasn't expecting was when Mr. Damiano suddenly began to stretch in order to "conveniently" show off the muscles in his arms. They were faintly visible through the fabric of his suit, probably enough to make any mortal woman swoon ... but my reaction was nothing of the sort.

I furrowed my brow at the Italian gentleman, wearing a blank expression that was similar to the one that my brother had been wearing when we were checking on the dinner preparations. At the same time, I gave my eyes a slight roll when Mr. Damiano wasn't looking and the first thought that came to my mind was, "What exactly is it about male mortals that make them believe that they can impress or entice just about any female by doing something as simple as flexing their muscles? It's utterly ridiculous."

After about ten seconds, I finally decided to speak up. "Mr. Damiano? I'm sorry to interrupt, but I don't think that we should stay too far behind from the Young Lord. We wouldn't want the food to get cold and we are on a rather strict schedule."

For the briefest moment, Mr. Damiano appeared to be caught off guard. He stared at me like a dumbfounded child, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times as a vague shade of red appeared on his cheeks. Now, it was obvious that he was having a difficult time believing that I hadn't given him a reaction that he was more than likely aiming for.

"Oh, um ... indeed, that's true." Mr. Damiano said after managing to find his voice again.

I stayed put and continued to observe the Italian gentleman as he finally ended his flexing session and began to approach the door. As this happened, my face remained vacant, my mind continued to overflow with hundreds of different suspicions, and Mr. Damiano offered me a pleasant smile that was clearly being used as an attempt to hide the teeny shred of embarrassment that was visible in his eyes. However, instead of exiting the Drawing Room, the denim-eyed businessman almost had me cocking an eyebrow in confusion when he ended up ceasing in his tracks. Now, he stood with just a gap of space remaining between the two of us.

"Ah, and ... Elise—" Mr. Damiano began to speak again; but this time, I noticed that there was the smallest hint of flirtatiousness hidden subtly in his accent.

My entire body nearly stiffened and I didn't think twice before raising one of my index fingers, signaling for the manor's guest to silence himself. I wasn't trying to tarnish my Puny Lord's reputation by coming off as disrespectful, but it simply wasn't appropriate for a guest to address a servant by their first name and I needed to make sure that Mr. Damiano understood that. Not only that, but I didn't exactly admire how he had said my name while confirming with his tone that he did, in fact, have some type of—currently undetermined—interest in me.

"Please, Mr. Damiano ... if you don't mind, let's just stick to addressing me as Miss Michaelis." I said, remaining professional as I lowered my finger.

Something shot through the Italian gentleman's eyes, vanishing before I could get the chance to identify it. Although, at the same time, I witnessed him almost clench his teeth in what I felt was displeasure before he almost forced himself to break out into another charming smile. However, despite how this one was still fairly realistic, it wasn't as realistic as his prior grin had been.

"Uhh ... yes, of course." Mr. Damiano replied. His dark blue hues stared directly into my wine-colored ones for a couple of seconds, shortly before he let out a small, lighthearted, almost seductive chuckle and made a gesture towards the back of his right ear with his finger. "Pardon me, Miss Michaelis, but-a ... I couldn't help but notice that you had what-a looks like a ... weed of some sort tucked behind your ear there. Perhaps, you were doing some-a work in the lovely garden earlier? Please ... allow me to-a remove it for you."

Without even waiting for me to give a response, the Italian businessman began to reach his gloved hand out towards my face and I knew for a fact that I saw something that looked rather hungry in his eyes. As this happened, my maroon eyes hardened in dead seriousness and I almost sucked in a sharp breath from not expecting him to make such a move. Not only that, but it didn't take long at all for it to dawn on me that Mr. Damiano had mistaken the lavender, somewhat wilted tulip that Finny had given me earlier this morning for a weed. To be honest, there was actually a piece of me that almost felt offended for that.

In one swift motion, just as the very tips of Mr. Damiano's fingers came inches away from caressing my ear, I shot my hand up and grabbed him securely by his wrist. In return, his eyes grew to be the size of saucers, his jaw dropped a little, and he let out a small noise that sounded like a blend between a gasp and a yelp. Of course, I wasn't gripping him enough to cause him any discomfort; but I was making sure that my grasp was still firm enough to get my point across.

"With all due respect, Mr. Damiano, that weed that you see behind my ear isn't a weed at all. On the contrary, it's a lovely gift from one of my fellow coworkers—a tulip, to be exact." I remarked with my British accent drenched in the same amount of seriousness that was visible in my eyes. However, I also made sure not to cross the line since the Little Earl had made it clear a thousand times that hospitality was important. "Now, I most certainly don't wish to sound rude or disrespectful, but I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained yourself from reaching towards me like that again. In fact, we should all make sure that we keep our hands to ourselves in order to prevent any ... inconvenience from occurring. Do you understand, sir?"

Clearly startled, Mr. Damiano darted his attention back and forth a couple of times from my face to the wrist that was still being held. A moment of silence went by, feeling so strong to the point where I was one hundred percent convinced that a pin could be heard if it was dropped all the way on the other side of the manor. Then ... I noticed the Italian nobleman's face completely change, just before he had lowered his head in order to prevent me from seeing it. His shock had vanished like it was never there, only to be replaced by a new expression that was very similar to the one that he had been wearing while describing Master Ciel as "childish." Unfortunately, before I could even get my mind to completely process what he just did, Mr. Damiano pulled his wrist away from me with a single jerk ... and when he lifted his head back up, his lips were already molded into another one of his staged grins.

"Certainly, Miss Michaelis. My most sincere apologies. A true gentleman shouldn't be so hasty to put his hands on a woman ... that is, unless it's their wedding night."

Mr. Damiano laughed lightly at his own joke and made sure to send me a friendly wink as soon as he finished it. Needless to say, I didn't find it to be the slightest bit entertaining and I nearly grimaced as I felt a faint, sinking sensation appear suddenly in the lowest part of my stomach—as if there was a rock resting in it. Nonetheless, in order to prevent running late to dinner, I decided to go along with the denim-eyed gentleman for just this moment. So, after giving the smallest and faintest chuckle possible, I put on one of my pleasant smiles once again and neatly folded my hands back in front of myself.

"Well, Mr. Damiano, my Young Lord is surely almost to the stone garden by this point. The two of us better catch up if we want the food to be served on time." I declared, shortly before I made a gesture for the Italian businessman to depart. "Shall we?"

Instead of saying anything back, Mr. Damiano only bowed his head in agreement before walking out of the Drawing Room. I followed shortly behind, making sure to pull the door shut behind me before doing so ... and as this happened, I got it out of my system to shoot daggers at the back of the denim-eyed gentleman's head. By doing that, I was fully able to get myself to put on one of those special, staged grins of mine again as soon as I made it to Mr. Damiano's side. At last, I was able to commit myself to escorting him.

In the dimness of the passing evening, there were hundreds of classy, rectangular lights placed in a variety of areas. While two were positioned on opposing ends of the long table, at least a dozen others were neatly lined up along each of the sides of the slab of stone that was in the direct center of the garden. Then, there were plenty of more lights hanging from suspenders in the air, each one being separated by one of my origami cranes. The lights also went along perfectly with the Japanese theme, casting beautiful glows that bounced against the ground and made almost all of the swirly patterns in the gravel twinkle like shooting stars. Aside from that, Sebastian had picked two of my similar centerpieces—wonderfully flourishing, purple irises in fancy, teal pots—to add even more beauty to the table. Lastly, the air was filled with a soothing, lukewarm breeze, as well as the fresh scents of lavender, mint, and other flowers. The whole setting was perfect.

Conveniently, by the time that Mr. Damiano and I had made it outside, Sebastian had just finished seating Bocchan at east end of the table and Mey-Rin was in the middle of pushing the trolley out from the nearest back door of the manor. It didn't go unnoticed by me that the butler had cut another skeptical glance in my direction as I led the Italian gentleman down to the west end of the table and pulled his chair out for him. Then, shortly after I helped Mr. Damiano push himself in, Sebastian and I walked back around to the side of the table. Our backs were in the direction of the Small Earl and the Italian nobleman.

"Elise..." Sebastian whispered to me, narrowing his eyes in a similar manner to when he had done it after hearing Mr. Damiano's insulting remark towards the Little Lord. "...In regards to the meeting, are you certain that there's nothing out of the ordinary going on?"

I made sure to maintain a nonchalant expression, fighting the urge to shrug or scratch the back of my neck as I responded just as quietly. "Surely, Sebastian, you know that we, of all ... things ... shouldn't see anything in this world as 'out of the ordinary.'"

"That doesn't answer my question." The suspicion in my brother's voice automatically increased and the somewhat hard look on his face made it clear that he was beginning to understand that I knew something that he didn't. "The way that our guest had uttered about the Young Master back in the Drawing Room. He was—"

Sebastian ended up silencing himself when Mey-Rin finished pushing the trolley up to where the two of us were standing. He silently huffed, the look in his eyes telling me that we weren't done with this conversation. In return, I pinched the bridge and, after softly shaking my head for a moment, I gave my own eyes a slight roll. Then, as the maid shyly approached the butler's left side, I remained on his other side and we both turned back around to face the table again. Now, our faces were decorated by warm, proper smiles that looked like they had been there all this time.

"Please do excuse us for the wait. At last, dinner is served." Sebastian declared as he bowed his head briefly in respect. "On tonight's menu is a dish of finely-sliced raw beef Donburi, courtesy of our chef, Baldroy."

While the butler went into explaining the food, I took it upon myself to pick up the silver tray that had the Young Master's part of the meal already prepared on it. Then, as I proceeded to carry it down to the east end of the table and begin to place everything neatly in front of Bocchan, I couldn't help but notice how he was staring at the meal like a deer that was caught off guard by an incoming carriage. I even took a small peek over at the opposite end of the table and saw that Mr. Damiano was wearing a much similar expression while watching Sebastian serve the other half of the dinner to him.

"A pile of raw beef. And this is dinner?" Mr. Damiano inquired, staring wide-eyed at his bowl of remarkably prepared meat.

I tucked the silver tray underneath my arm, picked up the gravy boat that was filled with soy sauce, and began to neatly drizzle some all over the Little Lord's meal. Sebastian, meanwhile, stood beside the Italian businessman's chair and, of course, came well-prepared for such a comment.

"Yes, but surely you have heard of it?" Sebastian spoke in a graceful tone as the wind danced calmly through his hair and the lights made his eyes shine like actual rubies. Then, in the blink of an eye, he began to move his arms around in a variety of wise, determined gestures." This, good sir, is a traditional Japanese delicacy, a dish offered as a sign of gratitude to someone who has accomplished important work. That, sir, is the wonder of Donburi!"

"Oh, Donburi!"

I stifled a couple of chuckles, gently setting the gravy boat down beside Bocchan's glass of water as I observed Mr. Damiano nearly begin to melt in his chair. His mouth looked like it was on the verge of watering and his eyes gave it away that he was practically lost in a pleasant trance that had been triggered by my brother's words.

Sebastian returned to his prior position, simply standing at the side of Mr. Damiano's seat with a new grin of pure satisfaction. "This is a token from our Master, to show his thanks for all your hard work on the company's behalf. He wanted you to know that it's much appreciated."

"We also hope that you won't mind having to depend on chopsticks for a majority of the meal." I spoke up with wisdom shimmering in my magenta orbs and my creamy complexion perfectly resembling a porcelain doll from the casting glow of a nearby light gleaming against it. "Of course, you are more than welcome to use the silverware if that's what you wish. Although, here at the Phantomhive estate, we decided to commit ourselves as much as possible to our lovely Japanese theme and we are determined to give you as much of an unforgettable experience as possible. With that being said, among the Japanese culture, it is actually believed that only the wisest and the most hardworking people can handle chopsticks correctly and flawlessly."

Suddenly, as I handed Master Ciel his pair of chopsticks and watched as he began to properly pick at his Donburi, I noticed something in the reflection of his glass of water. At first, I was confused; but then, as I used my unworldly abilities to zoom my vision further in like I had done earlier this morning before slaughtering those assassins, I realized that Finny, Tanaka, and Bard were hiding together in the reeds of the garden. They had pieces of the reeds positioned on top of their heads like crowns and they each had one of my colorful, origami flowers tucked behind their ears like that would assist them further in blending in.

"Now, that's our Sebastian and Elise for you!" Finny whispered with his turquoise hues twinkling in awe.

"They saved the day!" Bard chipped in, holding a thumb up proudly.

Chibi Tanaka took a sip of his tea before chuckling just as quietly, "Ho, ho, ho."

One of the corners of my mouth twitched in amusement, but I forced myself to keep my snickers submerged in order to prevent giving Bard, Finny, and Tanaka away. After all, when Sebastian told them that they could leave the rest of today's plans to me and him, he never specified how they could've used their free time. With that being said, I simply didn't mind how the three of them wanted to observe the Puny Earl's dinner with Mr. Damiano.

I zoomed my vision back out from the reflection that was in Bocchan's glass, still wearing a faint grin and internally chuckling a little. After that, as my brother and I started heading back over to the trolley, the denim-eyed gentleman tossed his arms up into the air in a praising fashion.

"Excellent, what an inspired idea! The legendary Phantomhive hospitality in action!"

I knelt down, tucking the silver tray away on the bottom half of the trolley. Then, after listening to Mr. Damiano's comment, I peeked over in his direction from the corner of my eye and my smile flickered ominously.

"I'll admit, Mr. Damiano, you do seem to be a rather talented actor ... but don't think for a second that this jolly attitude of yours is going to change the fact that I am very well aware that there's something not right about you or this overall appointment. I can detect the scent of bullshit from miles away."

By the end of that thought, I rose back up onto my feet and when I turned my attention over to the maid, I just so happened to notice that her pinafore was beginning to look like it was sagging a little on her slim figure. This usually happened at least four times a week, courtesy of how she would attempt to tie it around herself on her own and, being accident-prone, Mey-Rin genuinely didn't have the best luck.

"Mey-Rin! Hold still, okay?" I whispered to her as I stepped behind her back and noticed her overly thick glasses beginning to follow me like a confused toddler. "Your pinafore is coming loose. I'm going to fix it before we risk having it slide right off of you."

The bespectacled woman looked down and nearly squawked after realizing that I was right; but she surprisingly managed to smother the noise that automatically flew out of her mouth well enough to prevent Master Ciel or Mr. Damiano from being alerted. Sebastian, on the other hand, noticed, peeked over from the corner of his eye, and genuinely didn't care since nobody else had been bothered.

"O-oh! Certainly, Mistress Elise! T-thank you!" Mey-Rin yelped, whispering her words to me in a somewhat mousy manner. While doing this, she held herself as still as possible and I grabbed the back of her pinafore, beginning to retie it nonchalantly.

Within seconds, I had finished making the maid's apron look as good as new and I went back to simply holding my folded hands in front of myself. Mey-Rin followed my example, just as my brother made a gesture towards the trolley.

"The vintage we are pouring tonight was specially selected to compliment the flavor of soy sauce." Sebastian announced, right before he cut a glance over at the maid. "Mey-Rin."

As soon as she heard her name come out of the butler's mouth, Mey-Rin nearly became as stiff as a statue and she ended up letting out a small noise that sounded like a slight, swooning whimper.

Sebastian exhaled softly. "Now, Mey-Rin."

That time, Mey-Rin almost seemed to shiver and she didn't think twice before turning her head in my brother's direction. The look on her face was so innocent and shy, as if she were a small child that was trying to figure out how to speak to her first crush. I blinked at her in concern, only because I understood that all of Bocchan's appointments were important and this wasn't exactly the best time for Mey-Rin's interest in Sebastian to take control of her.

"Y-yes, sir!" Mey-Rin chirped.

Completely engulfed in his duties as a butler, Sebastian didn't care to pay any attention to Mey-Rin's swooning and he leaned in close to her ear. Not even a split second later, a violent blush practically exploded across the maid's face like a wildfire and her expression became much more panicked. There was even a piece of me that could've sworn that I heard Mey-Rin's heart beginning to pump so wildly to the point where her glasses were starting to jump along with every skipping beat.

"Why are you just standing there?" Sebastian asked in a gentle, somewhat confused whisper. "Pour the man a glass of wine."

The anxious maid replied almost instantly, "O-of course, yes, sir!"

I grabbed my bottom lip between my teeth and began to lightly nibble on it, unable to resist keeping a close eye on Mey-Rin as she carefully picked up the silver bottle. She held it by its long neck in one hand, while she used her other hand to support it from the bottom. However, despite how she was holding the bottle in the correct manner that she was taught, I couldn't help but feel like something was about to go very wrong.

Sebastian picked up another silver pitcher from the trolley and carried it over to the Small Lord, who was in the middle of enjoying the dinner. I, on the hand, couldn't shake this heavy, cautious feeling that only seemed to be burrowing deeper and deeper inside of me with every passing second. In that moment, for whatever reason, I felt compelled to look back over in the direction of the reeds. So, I did, still making sure to not give Bard, Tanaka, and Finny away ... and that's when I noticed the hard, focused expression that was now masking the chef's face.

"Hey..." Bard said, and regardless of how he was speaking quietly, I could easily hear him with my enhanced hearing.

Finny, who had been grinning cheerfully, peeked up at him in confusion. "What?"

"Is it just me or is Mey-Rin acting a little strange?"

After that, I redirected my attention back over to the bespectacled woman, noticing her shaking, wobbling, and even spinning around in circles as she approached the end of the table that was accompanied by Mr. Damiano. When she made it to where she needed to be, she practically jerked herself to a halt and her hands kept trembling like she was in the middle of getting electrocuted.

"Mey-Rin!" I tried to whisper to her from where I was still standing near the trolley, but she clearly didn't hear me.

"S-S-Sebastian's watching me! I can't take it!" Mey-Rin sputtered, evidently caught up in a whirlpool of emotions as she continued to quake madly in her boots. "Don't look at me that way!"

After that, as if she were a dragon, the maid huffed and finally leaned forward to serve the wine. However, when the beverage poured out like a bright purple waterfall, it ended up completely missing Mr. Damiano's glass and it splashed directly against the tablecloth instead. Upon witnessing that, my maroon eyes automatically felt like they became five times their normal size and a sharp bolt of shock shot through my body like a bolt of lightning.

The chef and the gardener screamed together in a panic, "AHHHHH!"

Fortunately, Mr. Damiano was too caught up in feeding himself to even notice everything else that was going on around him. He literally had his bowl of Donburi held up to his face in delight and he was digging it all out with his chopsticks ... but with every passing second, the puddle of wine was expanding more and more across the table. It would only be a matter of seconds before it reached the end of the table and spilled all over the estate's guest.

Finny made a frantic attempt to call out to the maid, "Mey-Rin, stop it! Can't you see you're spilling the wine?!"

I looked down towards the east end of the table, seeing two entirely different reactions from the butler and the Puny Lord. Master Ciel looked genuinely worried, frozen in his chair with his single, exposed, sapphire eye now wide enough to be mistaken for a plate. Sebastian, on the other hand, appeared to be completely unfazed, courtesy of how he was more than likely used to being in situations like this. Of course, I was as well; but that didn't make these predicaments any less risky or disastrous.

Acting fast, I dashed over to Mey-Rin and tossed one of my arms around her waist from behind. At the same time, I used my other hand to grab one of her arms and I tried to pull her up in order to get her to stop spilling the wine all over the place. It was much easier said than done, considering I had to prevent myself from using my inhumane strength and I didn't want to take any chances in just now catching Mr. Damiano's attention.

"Mey-Rin!" I somewhat exclaimed, trying to avoid raising my voice too much. "Mey-Rin, give me the wine!"

However, just as I was starting to think that this dinner couldn't possibly get anymore complex, I was proven wrong. Within seconds after I tried pulling the maid away from the table, she ended up snapping out of her flustered state and the fact that she didn't realize right off the bat that it was me that was suddenly pulling on her had her reacting in a way that was ... incredibly inconvenient.

"GAAAHHHH!"

With a startled shriek, Mey-Rin threw herself back up so fast to the point where she practically toppled back into my arms and she ended up flinging her own arms up into the air, as if she were surrendering to a threat. The silver bottle that contained the wine immediately flew out of her hand and went soaring like a shooting star, straight up into the air. In fact, it went so high to the point where it was almost hard to believe that it had just been thrown by a mere mortal.

At the exact same time, the spilled wine had just finished spreading to the edge of the table and was just about to pour all over the Italian businessman. I didn't think twice before looking back over in Sebastian's direction, and the two of us exchanged serious stares for the briefest second. After that, we both sprang right into action, acting as if we were the only ones in the stone garden for the time being.

Sebastian snatched a hold of the tablecloth and, with determination and focus, skillfully yanked it back before the first drop of wine could plummet down to Mr. Damiano's trousers. Without disturbing any of the lights, centerpieces, or platters, my brother succeeded in removing the stained cloth completely from the table. It flew back in his arms, sending a gush of wind through his and Bocchan's hair.

Meanwhile, I had no choice but to shove the dizzy maid out of my arms. Then, as she kept spinning around in wobbly circles and moaning to herself like she had a headache, I snatched up Mr. Damiano's empty glass from the table and sprinted back over to where the trolley was. After that, with the glass being held correctly between my fingers, I leaped on top of trolley and jumped straight up into the air. I preformed a somersault in the process, right before I locked my eyes directly on the silver bottle of wine. It was twirling around in the sky, just now beginning to fall back down and sending a bunch of wine droplets in a variety of directions like rain. Nonetheless, with my eyes narrowed in persistence, I held Mr. Damiano's glass out and managed to catch each of the bright purple drops before they could possibly go to waste. At last, I was able to reach my other hand out and grab the neck of the silver bottle ... and as soon as I did, a content grin formed on my rosy lips.

The evening breeze whistled, making my braided hair sway and the bottom of my dress flutter. The moon shined gloriously behind me as I proceeded to pour Mr. Damiano's wine. It captured my silhouette and even made me look like a goddess. Then, as I dropped all the way back down to the ground, I preformed another somersault before landing perfectly on my feet beside the Italian gentleman's chair. Finally, with the glass now filled with the delectable beverage, I placed it back down on the table in pure satisfaction.

In the end, despite how fast Sebastian and I had fixed everything, it all felt like it had occurred in slow motion.

Back in the reeds, the chef and the gardener were gawking at my brother and I in utter surprise. Their eyes were larger than globes and their jaws were practically meeting the ground. Although, Tanaka appeared to be far more delighted, probably because he rarely showed any other expressions while in his Chibi form.

I took a peek back over in Mey-Rin's direction and saw that she was still a stuttering, whimpering, staggering mess. So, while beginning to walk down to the center of the table, I made an urgent, yet subtle, gesture for Finny and Bard to come get her. The two of them didn't hesitate to obey, not even stopping to try figuring out how I knew where they were. Then, just as Mey-Rin practically fell back into their arms and was dragged away, Mr. Damiano lowered his bowl from his face in satisfaction. However, as soon as he saw the table and realized that the tablecloth was gone, he immediately became stunned.

"Oh?! Where did the tablecloth-a go?!" inquired the Italian businessman.

A faint smirk crossed over the Little Lord's face as he replied convincingly, "A speck of dirt, most unsightly. I had the cloth removed so it wouldn't distract us. Think nothing of it."

Sebastian bowed, holding the—now neatly folded—tablecloth over his arms. "Please accept my apologies, sir. Do continue. Enjoy the meal at your leisure."

"Please don't hesitate to give tonight's special vintage a taste as well." I added on, advertising the silver bottle in my hands with a professional stare on my face. "The flavor is very exquisite and is highly admired throughout Europe, Germany, and Paris. Not even a single drop of this fine wine is expected to go to waste, so the Master wishes for his guests to savor it as much as possible. As long as they're being responsible at the same time, of course."

Mr. Damiano stared in total amazement, flicking his eyes back and forth from me to my brother.

"Oh, oh my! Ha, ha, ha!" He then started to laugh before breaking out into a new, polite smile. "Lord Phantomhive, once again, you have truly impressed me. What an able butler and nanny you've acquired."

Sebastian and I bowed our heads in respect, flashing humble grins after receiving such a compliment like that. Master Ciel, on the other hand, let out a single snicker under his breath before lifting his gaze back up to the estate's guest.

"Pay them no mind. They merely act as befits two of my servants."

"Our Master is quite correct about that—naturally." Sebastian incorporated, just as he raised his own head again and revealed that his polite smile had been replaced by a small smirk. "You see, I am simply one hell of a butler."

Within seconds after I heard that, I couldn't resist chuckling a little. Then, as a slight smirk appeared on my own face, I declared, "And I am simply one devil of a nanny."

The Puny Earl almost instantly shot a vague glare in Sebastian's direction, followed by him doing the same thing in my direction. The glint in his vibrant blue eye was incredibly serious for a twelve-year-old, as if he were demanding to know why my brother and I were speaking with that particular vocabulary around one of his guests. Nonetheless, instead of saying anything, Bocchan simply made a "Humph..." sound and returned to his meal.

After that, a pleasant grin returned to my face like my smirk was never there and I carried the silver bottle back over to the trolley. As I did this, my mind began to remind me of how quickly this day was passing by and I automatically remembered something else that needed to get finished before the end of this appointment.

"Oh, yes." I said out loud to my thoughts, right before I turned to look back at Bocchan. "Young Master, since dinner is in the process of being enjoyed, shall I go begin the preparations for dessert?"

The Small Lord lowered his glass of water from his lips and swallowed what was in his mouth. After that, he gave a small gesture of approval for Sebastian to add some more water to his cup, right before he gazed over at me.

"You might as well, yes. Go ahead and begin as much of the dessert preparations as possible. Make sure to be back in the Drawing Room by the time that dinner is finished though."

I placed a hand over my heart, bowed my head, and preformed a curtsy while bending myself slightly at the waist.

"Of course, my Lord."

Then, as I straightened myself back up, I turned away completely from the dining table and left my brother to handle and observe the rest of the meal on his own. However, as I made my journey back inside, I could easily sense the feeling of somebody watching me. It made my back feel numb and it was almost like needles were poking painlessly, but uncomfortably, at my spinal cord. Nevertheless, I refused to look back and I focused on my latest order from Master Ciel ... just knowing that if there truly was someone watching me in that moment, it was Mr. Damiano.

A/N: Bookmark #2

A few days previously, Sebastian and I had agreed after going down a long list of desserts that the perfect one for this particular evening would be Lemon Meringue Pie. So, since the end of dinnertime was almost always difficult to predict whenever there was a guest visiting the mansion, I made sure to get right down to business as soon as I made it all the way back to the kitchen. I slid on an apron, traded my black gloves for another pair of plastic cooking gloves, gathered all of the necessary ingredients, pans, bowls, and utensils, laid them all out across the island in a neatly organized fashion, and began the preparations almost immediately.

I hummed softly to myself, grinning softly and contently as I basked in the pure silence of the manor. It was almost heavenly, especially since I almost always had Sebastian breathing down my neck and practically playing Twenty Questions about whatever it was that I was doing just to push my buttons. Not only that, but Finny, Mey-Rin, and Bard couldn't seem to get through a single day without causing some type of accident. So, regardless of how I was most definitely used to serving alongside my brother and coworkers, I simply enjoyed having some alone time every once in a while.

It took me no more than ten minutes to make the pie crust from scratch. I had placed it in the oven and, while waiting for it to cook, took the opportunity to begin working on the lemon filling. After selecting one of the pans, I filled it with one cup of sugar, four tablespoons of cornstarch, and one-eighth of an extra teaspoon of salt. Following that, I made sure to use the whisk that I had nearby to give this combination a quick stir in order to prevent anything from becoming too sticky. Then, I proceeded to follow the recipe by adding a cup and a half of water, one-fourth of a cup of lemon juice that I had extracted from some freshly sliced lemons myself, and I even included some lemon zest in order to intense the flavor. Finally, after giving everything another small stir to combine it all even more, I placed the pan on the stove and was able to remove the pie crust from inside.

Then, after switching the top of the stove stove to a medium heat, I decided to give the combination a chance to start boiling. In the meantime, I cracked a couple of eggs into a small, glass bowl that I kept beside the whisk. Not long after that, I added two additional teaspoons of unsalted butter to the filling and began to use the whisk again to stir some more. Now, the creation was beginning to bubble a little and I waited for the butter to completely melt before I gradually poured the egg yolks from the glass bowl into the pan. Finally, when the eggs finished leaking in, I sat the glass bowl back aside and focused on getting a thick consistency from the liquid by continuing to stir.

I leaned forward slightly and took a small whiff, easily managing to detect the sugary aroma that was beginning to radiate from inside of the pan.

"My, my. This pie is certainly going to be very sweet." I said to myself, in which I straightened myself back up and kept stirring. "I can already tell that it's going to meet the Little Lord's standards, but he better make sure that he allows me or Sebastian to brush his teeth extra thoroughly before he goes to bed tonight. We wouldn't want to risk him getting any new cavities."

Suddenly, after about another ten seconds of me stirring and watching the substance bubble in the pan, I overheard the sound of what was most definitely footsteps beginning to walk down the corridor that was right outside the kitchen. Of course, since this was the Servants' Area, the first thought that came to my mind was that it must've been the chef or the butler. Perhaps, Bard had picked up on the scent of the dessert that I was putting together and wanted to see what was being prepared; or maybe, Sebastian was coming to get something for the Puny Earl or to possibly return some dirty dishes.

The footsteps got closer with every passing second, but I kept working without putting too much thought into them. Eventually, I heard them come to a halt for a couple of seconds, as if whoever was making them was now standing in the doorway. Then, they entered the kitchen with their shoes continuing to casually click against the floor.

"Hey, Sebastian? Bard? ... Whichever one of you are there, you've arrived just in time." I declared without looking away from the pan. "I'm just about finished with the filling for tonight's dessert. Would you mind handing me the wooden spoon that I have laid out?"

I expected to receive some sort of response ... but when I didn't, I found myself squinting a little in confusion. However, it didn't take long before I then heard the footsteps beginning to walk over to the island. Following that, I detected the sound of something—the wooden spoon—getting picked up.

"Do you mean this one?"

As soon as I heard that voice, I snapped my head up and my eyes expanded to the point where they almost felt like they had suddenly become too large for my head. Then, as my heart took a rough leap in my chest from not expecting to hear that particular accent, I quickly glanced over my shoulder and was in total disbelief at what I saw. The person that had been walking down the hallway wasn't Sebastian or Bardroy—but it was Mr. Damiano, who was now standing on the opposite side of the island and staring directly at me while holding the wooden spoon in one of his gloved hands.

"O-oh! Mr. Damiano!"

With that, I immediately turned the stove off and sat the whisk aside, deciding to let the filling cool down in order to be used. After that, I spun around in order to face the Italian gentleman entirely, watching as he automatically held his hands up to his shoulders and let out a string of amused laughter at the sight of my face.

"Ah, ha, ha! Oh, dear! Pardon me, Miss Michaelis. Did I startle you?"

I folded my arms and took a moment to subtly glance around the room, trying to see if somebody else—for whatever reason—had escorted the manor's guest to the kitchen. Just as I had suspected, there was no one else standing in the doorway ... and that proved to me that the Italian businessman had somehow made it here on his own.

"Um ... no, sir, I wouldn't necessarily say that you startled me." I eventually replied, in which I turned my attention back over to the denim-eyed gentleman and stared at him inquisitively. "It's just ... I wasn't expecting to see a guest in this particular part of my Young Master's mansion. It's authorized for the staff only."

"Oh, is that so?" Mr. Damiano asked, blinking at me like he was actually surprised to hear such a thing. Then, after a couple of seconds, he flashed one of his cheery smiles and relaxed his eyes shut. "I'm afraid that I must've taken a wrong turn then."

I furrowed my brow at him. "A wrong turn?"

"Yes, a wrong turn." The Italian businessman gave a faint nod, right before he opened his eyes again and explained further. "You see, the Young Lord and I had just so happened to conveniently finish our remarkable dinner around the same time. He announced that we should head back to the Drawing Room, but I asked if I could excuse myself beforehand in order to take a quick trip to the restroom. That's when the butler gave me some instructions on where-a to go and ... I must of-a gotten lost."

I lightly poked at the inside of my mouth with my tongue and took a moment to just stare at the blue-eyed gentleman, automatically having all of those unanswered questions and concerns from earlier come flowing back to the front of my mind like a tsunami. I didn't believe his story about needing to use the restroom for a second. This manor was filled with millions of rooms and I knew them all like the back of my own hand. While walking all the way to the Servants' Area from the stone garden, I knew for a fact that Mr. Damiano would've walked past at least four bathrooms. Plus, Sebastian was always very thorough while giving directions. It would've been virtually impossible for the Italian businessman to have "made a wrong turn."

"Ah ... I see." I said finally, making sure that nothing in my tone or facial expression gave it away that I knew that I was being lied to. "Well then, Mr. Damiano ... if you really require a bathroom, allow me to inform you that the nearest one from here is just—"

Mr. Damiano suddenly cut me off, not even giving me the chance to point in the direction of the doorway and break down the quickest route to the nearest restroom for him.

"I believe that you asked for this, no?"

He spoke with absolutely no urgency in his accent, still wearing a pleasant grin as he held out the wooden spoon that was still in his hand.

"Uh..." I pursed my lips and stared at the utensil for a couple of seconds, right before I lightly nodded and forced myself to put on a realistic—though slightly awkward—smile. "Yes, indeed ... thank you for your courtesy."

I stepped rather cautiously towards the island, watching as the Italian gentleman began to walk around it in order to reach me. However, I ended up stopping him halfway by freezing in my tracks so he wouldn't try walking any further. After all, I didn't want him to get too close to the oven, courtesy of how I was in the process of putting together the dessert and the filling was more than likely still in the process of cooling down. I was able to witness a slight look of surprise come over Mr. Damiano's face when I prevented him from pursuing forward, but shortly after I took the wooden spoon from him, he ended up looking at me in the same manner that somebody would look at a child that was cradling a newborn puppy.

In return, I ended up cocking an eyebrow, as if I were asking him what he was looking at. Although, in order to prevent coming off as an improper Phantomhive servant, I turned my back on the denim-eyed gentleman almost immediately after I ended up raising an eyebrow. Then, after giving my eyes a slight roll to myself, I walked back over to the dessert preparations.

"But of course, Miss Michaelis!" Mr. Damiano had said shortly after I retrieved the wooden spoon. "My mother raised me to be an ideal gentleman, after all."

I nearly scoffed after I heard that, only because I knew that there was something not right about this Italian businessman. Nonetheless, I made sure to remain as nonchalant as possible, despite how I was still having a difficult time believing that a guest was in the kitchen with me.

I sat the wooden utensil down on the counter, picked the whisk back up, and began stirring the other set of ingredients that I had placed earlier in another glass bowl to prepare the meringue.

"If I sound rude for asking this, Mr. Damiano, do forgive me ... but aren't you supposed to be back in the Drawing Room right about now?" I inquired in a tone that was wise and inquisitive, yet calm and casual. "I'm sure that my Young Lord is waiting for you so the two of you can carry on with your appointment. Don't fiddle around with any of that, please."

That last sentence was referring to how I saw Mr. Damiano holding the lid of some leftover pot from the island in his hand. I had glanced over my shoulder after picking up the sound of the lid getting removed and it made me think that Italian gentleman was behaving like some bored, curious child. Although, in return, his dark blue hues grew a little in surprise and he didn't think twice before quickly lowering the lid back down to the unused pot. Afterwards, while still whisking the meringue, I saw him begin to pretend that he was only trying to readjust the lapel of his dark brown jacket.

"Ah, yes! Well, like I had said before, I had originally pardoned myself from that-a extraordinary dining table in order to-a use the restroom ... but when I found myself wandering around rather aimlessly in these-a corridors, I ended up detecting this ... enchanting scent ... and I couldn't help myself from following it."

I stopped whisking the meringue in order to add half of a teaspoon of vanilla, thinking heavily about Mr. Damiano's words as I then continued to stir.

"If that's the case, sir, I assume that you were smelling the sugary filling that was bubbling on the stove."

Suddenly, I overheard the sound of Mr. Damiano's footsteps beginning to slowly walk across the floor again. They were taking their time, heading in my direction and almost instantly causing my magenta orbs to become alert. I stopped stirring the meringue and, with little reluctance, slowly turned back around in order to face the estate's guest again. That's when I saw his eyes examining me once again from the bottom of my feet, to the very top of my head; but this time, even with me staring back, he didn't stop. His lips were also molded into a flirtatious smirk and he only stopped walking when there were just a couple of steps left between us.

"Actually, Miss Michaelis ... the fragrance that I smelled was much sweeter than any pastry could ever be." Mr. Damiano remarked in a tone that was just as frisky as the look on his face. "It was like the breath of an angel—the perfect mixture of cinnamon, lavender, and flowers after a refreshing storm in the springtime. It must've been your perfume."

For what felt like an eternity, I stared at him like he had just grown a second head. At the same time, I fought to get a full mental grasp on everything that related to the Italian businessman possibly having some sort of interest in me. In this moment, it wasn't only confirmed that Mr. Damiano did wish to make romantic advances towards me ... but it also confirmed how he had been observing me in a lustful manner while Tanaka and I were escorting him to the Drawing Room. Within seconds after connecting all of those thoughts together, the look on my face became much more serious.

I huffed. "Mr. Damiano, I don't wear perfume unless the Young Master is hosting an important event."

The manor's guest seemed caught off guard by how I didn't blush, giggle, or show any sign of flattery towards his comment. However, that didn't stop him from making an attempt to cover his up his brief falter.

"Oh my! Ha, ha, ha!" Mr. Damiano laughed and offered me a much more innocent smile, despite how his eyes continued to flicker with seductiveness. "It must be your natural scent then. How fortunate for you! ... And not to mention very attractive."

As he said that last part, he softened his voice to make himself sound flirty again and was just about to take another step towards me. Nonetheless, before he could, I shot one of my hands up and signaled for him to stop.

"With all due respect, Mr. Damiano ... that's quite enough." I declared, flicking my eyebrows up to show that I wasn't going to beat around the bush with this.

The Italian businessman batted his lashes like a confused toddler. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, obviously trying to find something else to say. Eventually, all he managed to get out was, "Huh?"

"I'm sorry, but it isn't appropriate for a guest like you to make any sort of advances like that towards a servant like me." I explained with complete honesty and as much respect as possible. "I'm sure that there's plenty of other women in this world that would be very fortunate to have you, but considering our opposing social statuses and the fact that you're here strictly for a meeting with my Young Lord, it simply wouldn't be possible for the two of us to engage in any type of relationship."

Everything fell silent and I turned back around to continue whisking the meringue. Unfortunately, as I did this, not only did I manage to catch a glimpse of Mr. Damiano looking like he was about to sneer from the corner of my eye, but the conversation wasn't over like I was hoping it would be.

As if he hadn't almost glared, the denim-eyed gentleman snickered like I had just told a joke. "Ha, ha! ... I wonder why English women seem to enjoy playing 'hard to get' so much. It must be one-a life's biggest mysteries."

I narrowed my eyes a little, ceasing my stirring with the whisk still remaining in the meringue. At the same time, I overheard the sound of Mr. Damiano take another few, slow steps towards me and I kept my back facing in his direction.

"'Hard to get?'" I inquired, definitely starting to sound a little judgmental by this point.

Suddenly, a couple of seconds later, I felt my body become stiffer than a board and my maroon orbs grew to be the size of two paperweights when I felt a hot breath being dragged out slowly against my left ear. Not only that, but I also felt one hand beginning to delicately slither around my waist to fondle it. The other hand settled itself gently on my shoulder, faintly squeezing it.

"Yes. I can tell that's all you're doing." Mr. Damiano replied, whispering his words to me and continuing to caress my air with his breath. It wreaked of a unnatural combination of beef, rice, and wine. "It didn't take long at all after my arrival for it to become clear that you wanted me. I saw how you swooshed your hips whenever you walked in my presence and I saw the subtle way that you moved your luscious lips whenever you spoke in my sight. You want me ... and I am more than happy to oblige."

As the Italian businessman spoke, my eyes wandered over to the knife holder that was placed within my reach. There were no words that could possibly describe how tempted a large portion of me was to just grab one of those pointy, polished knives ... but I knew deep down that I couldn't. Regardless of how incredibly perverted and wrong these acts were, Mr. Damiano was ultimately still a guest in the estate and Master Ciel had made it perfectly clear that all Phantomhive servants were expected to provide nothing but the best hospitality possible. With that being said, unless the denim-eyed gentleman made any attempts to harm Bocchan ... I wasn't allowed to inflict any pain or suffering on him.

Then, just as I thought that this situation couldn't possibly get any worse, I felt Mr. Damiano slide the hand that was around my waist down across my pelvic area in order to squeeze my thigh. At the same time, he pressed his lips against the crook of my neck and began to kiss me there rather sloppily. Unpleasant memories started to slip back into my mind, in which I clenched my teeth, curled my hands into tight fists, and immediately spun back around to face the Italian businessman. He tore himself away from me and stumbled back a couple of steps, making himself appear to be innocent by staging a look of pure astonishment.

"What in the devil's name do you think you're doing?!" I demanded with my face now covered with a stone-hard glare.

Mr. Damiano didn't hesitate to reply, placing a hand over his chest as he continued to act like he was bewildered my by reaction.

"Oh, Miss Michaelis! Did I offend you? If I did, that certainly wasn't my intentions! I was only trying—"

"Mr. Damiano!" I spoke over him, deciding to cut him off before lowering my voice back down to a natural—but still serious—volume. "If, by any chance, I have somehow given you a reason to believe that I have developed some type of romantic interest in you, please forgive me. However, as I already stated, it's not proper at all for a guest and a servant to engage in this sort of behavior together. On the contrary, it's highly indecent and continuing to pursue it after already being asked to stop could definitely result in it being labeled as harassment."

As the word "harassment" left my mouth, something dangerous shot through Mr. Damiano's eyes at the speed of a bullet. He then clenched his teeth for no more than two seconds before continuing to speak, still making himself seem apologetic and surprised.

"I-I most definitely wasn't trying to harass you at all, Miss Michaelis! I only meant to—"

"You're nothing more than a guest to me, Mr. Damiano." I stated once and for all, not caring to let him finish that lie. "The way that I have treated you this evening is exactly how I treat all of my Young Lord's guests and business partners. I don't flirt with any of them, nor would I ever wish to do such a thing. With that being said, I'm sorry to inform you that you must've mistaken my dedication for my job for me trying to entice you."

Once again, complete silence filled the kitchen and I could tell by the look on Mr. Damiano's face that he was starting to have a difficult time with fighting the urge to allow his right eye to begin twitching. Nonetheless, with a few quick shakes of his head, he tried seeping back in to his innocent, sympathetic character.

"Miss Michaelis, if you would please forgive me for—"

"I believe that you should head back to the Drawing Room, Mr. Damiano. Surely by now, my Young Master is beginning to question your whereabouts."

There was a brief moment of hesitation. I was going to turn away to check on the filling for the Lemon Meringue Pie, but immediately froze when the Italian businessman approached me again and left only a gap of space between the two of us. He flicked some stray strands of his sand-colored hair out of his face, as if that would somehow make me swoon, and stared directly into my eyes. Then, with a somewhat naughty grin returning to his face, he ended up whispering something that I wasn't entirely expecting after going through all of those serious lectures.

"You don't have to be so defensive, Miss Michaelis. After all, nobody is watching. One kiss won't cause any harm, no?"

After that, he closed his eyes, puckered his lips out, and began to lean in my direction. Unfortunately, the "kiss" that I gave him certainly wasn't what he was hoping for. Since I still had the whisk in my grasp, I simply lifted it up in front of me and—with my face decorated with an unamused stare—watched as Mr. Damiano placed his lips against the whisk. Within a split second, his dark blue eyes shot open and he immediately backed away, making a loud noise that sounded like a blend between a groan and a gag. After all, the whisk was covered in ingredients to make the pie and they hadn't been stirred enough yet to possibly possess a sweet taste.

"To be quite frank, Mr. Damiano, you're really starting to test my patience." I declared, watching with a dead serious glint in my eyes as the Italian businessman eagerly scrubbed his lips with the back of his hand. "I'm trying to carry out my Young Master's instructions and prepare this night's dessert, but you haven't stopped distracting me with such bloody nonsense since you first wandered in here. If you leave now and head back to the Drawing Room, I'll go ahead and let this unpleasant behavior of yours slide. However, if you don't, I'll be forced to report it to the Young Lord. The choice is yours."

Of course, those final few sentences were nothing but a complete lie. No matter what the denim-eyed gentleman did, I was planning to inform Bocchan on his sexual harassment.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must wash this before being able to use it again." I said, evidently referring to the whisk. "Goodbye, sir."

At last, I turned away from the Italian businessman, expecting him to finally give up and leave as I began to walk down in the direction of the sink. However, before I could manage to take more than three steps, I felt a hand snatch a hold of my arm and it squeezed me so firmly to the point where it already felt like my blood circulation was seconds away from getting cut off. Within seconds after that, my whole body was jerked back around at the speed of lightning and before my mind could even process what was going on...

SMACK!

...The wooden spoon collided sharply with my cheek, leaving behind an unpleasant burning sensation that kept tingling throughout the rest of my face like sparks of fire. As this happened, I clenched my eyes shut and ended up letting out a sound that could only be described as a mix between a startled gasp and a painful scream. Then, almost instantly after that, I felt my whole body get thrown with full force against the counter and the back of my waist had been racked against the edge so hard to the point where I could've sworn that a bunch of nasty bruises were already beginning to form. The attack had been so unexpected and rough to the point where I had even lost my grip on the whisk and it went skipping down the counter as soon as I was struck with the spoon.

Shortly after that, with a hand being held up to my throbbing cheek, I felt the hand release my arm in order to slither behind my head and tightly grab my jet-black hair from the top of its braid. It jerked my head sharply in a specific direction, making me grit my teeth in discomfort ... and when I opened my eyes again, I saw that it was none other than Mr. Damiano. He was standing directly in front of me with the wooden spoon being clutched in his other fist, no longer leaving any space at all between our bodies in order to prevent me from going anywhere. Not only that, but he was staring viciously into my eyes with his face now twisted into a monstrous scowl.

It didn't take long for more dark memories to begin flashing through my brain like individual bolts of lightning, making me notice the major resemblance that Mr. Damiano now had to the Serpent. In fact, I had to blink a numerous amount of times in order to prevent myself from possibly seeing the Serpent. The last thing that I needed right now was to have him appear in the kitchen with me, holding his bronze dagger instead of a wooden spoon.

My eyes felt like they were seconds away from popping out of their sockets as I stared back at the manor's guest. No, I wouldn't say that I was afraid—especially since I wasn't something of this world. I was far more stunned than anything, courtesy of how Mr. Damiano had just exposed a whole different side of himself and willingly did it while standing in my Small Lord's mansion.

"Just who in the hell do you think you're talking to right now?!" Mr. Damiano inquired, growling his words in my face like a ravenous dog. "Do you really believe that I'm-a just going to stand here and allow some servant like you to speak to me like that?! Like you have more brains than me?! You pathetic wench! Ever since I first arrived at this crumby manor, I've been doing nothing but giving you the opportunity to do things the easy way! Yet, you kept tossing me aside like garbage! You're lucky that I only struck you once for that!"

I tried pushing against the Italian man's chest to get him away from me; but since I was wasn't allowed to use my enhanced strength on guests, my mortal strength didn't compare to his.

"How dare you! Unhand me right this minute!" I hissed, only to end up clenching my teeth in discomfort again when I felt the denim-eyed businessman tighten his grip on my hair.

"Shut up!" barked Mr. Damiano, in which he raised the wooden spoon once more and held it near my face to show that he wasn't afraid to strike me again. "I'm-a sick and tired of trying to walk around eggshells with you, you hear me?! I gave you plenty of changes to submit yourself so we could proceed with things smoothly, but you've-a turned your back on all of them! With that being said, I'm-a done beating around the bush and trying to be a perfect gentleman for you! A little bitch like you doesn't deserve such a thing anyway!"

As soon as I heard the estate's guest refer to me as a "little bitch," a piece of me cringed from remembering the Locust and especially the Serpent again. Nonetheless, that didn't stop me from sending Mr. Damiano a vengeful glare.

"Oh, I can definitely assure, Mr. Damiano, that your mother would be very proud of you right now." I snarled as a reference to what Mr. Damiano had said no more than ten minutes ago about being raised to be an "ideal gentleman."

WHACK!

I squeezed my eyes shut again and grimaced, sucking in another sharp breath as the Italian businessman struck me just as harshly in the opposite cheek with the wooden utensil. After that, he released my hair in order to grab my chin like I was a dog. Once again, I recalled dozens of violent situations and foul "punishments" that I had been put through; but I forced as many of them to the back of my mind as possible, feeling Mr. Damiano jerk my head back in his direction.

"If I were-a you, Miss Michaelis, I would keep my mouth shut!" Mr. Damiano sneered with his accent drenched in even more scorn as he said my surname. "Now, you better listen good and hard to what I'm-a about to say! ... That child that you call your precious Lord had entrusted me with the East India Factory ever since that it was first built. For as long as I could remember, it has been making nothing but excellent progress ... and it has captured the attention of plenty of other owners from even higher businesses. I've been given many offers—offers that could make even your dear Queen fall to her knees and squeal in delight. With that being said ... I'm-a sure that you could imagine the amount of profit that would be given to me if such a thing were to happen and I did decide to sell the factory."

It didn't take much effort for me to understand where this conversation was going and it made my glare automatically grow darker. Although, at the same time, my eyes expanded a little in disbelief and a sinister grin stretched across Mr. Damiano's lips, making my seething hatred for him grow even stronger.

"You bastard!" I snapped as I made a couple of more attempts to shove the denim-eyed gentleman away from me. "Leave my Young Master and his hard work out of this!"

Mr. Damiano chuckled to himself and used the wooden spoon to brush a couple of stray strands of my hair that had escaped from my braid out of my face. I pulled my head away in the opposite direction.

"Well, I'm afraid that's entirely up to you, Miss Michaelis ... or, shall I say, Elise?"

I curled my gloved hands into solid fists, trying to fight against the temptation that was only growing stronger by the minute to snatch up the sharpest knife from its holder. Unfortunately, with Master Ciel's rules echoing in my brain, I understood that I couldn't do such a thing and forced myself to remain as calm as possible. Of course, considering the circumstances, that was much easier said than done ... but I eventually managed to get myself to uncurl my hands and to make eye contact with the Italian businessman again.

"Just what exactly is it that you want from me?" I asked, allowing myself to speak in the most resentful tone that anybody could possibly use.

Mr. Damiano breathed another small laugh, almost resting his forehead against mine. "The answer is actually quite simple. If you don't wish for me to go ahead and sell the East India Factory after it has been so highly beneficial to that puny Earl ... then all you have to do is sleep with me."

Not even a split second after I heard that final sentence, I could've sworn that the entire world stopped and I felt every last one of my veins become colder than ice. My eyes grew once again, perfectly resembling wine-colored saucers, and as I kept my gaze locked on Mr. Damiano's face, his words continued to repeat themselves over and over again in my mind.

I nearly scoffed from the amount of disbelief that I was in. "I beg your pardon?!"

"Oh, I don't believe that it's necessary at all for me to repeat myself. The look in your eyes makes it perfectly clear that you heard me." Mr. Damiano remarked with the smugness noticeably increasing in his accent. "Now, I will be courteous and give you two options. Either you agree to engage in a one-night stand with me before the clock strikes midnight tonight ... or I will sell the East India Factory and put your precious Lord at the risk of having all of that dedication and money put to waste—ah! And let's not forget that his reputation will face the rather large possibility of trembling at the 'unexpected' loss of one of his well-known incorporations."

I was almost rendered speechless, finding myself staring at the Italian gentleman with utter incredulity.

In all of my years of serving as the Phantomhive nanny, I had never found myself in a position like this before. Yes, I had received plenty of flirtatious comments and seductive offers in the past from a variety of gentlemen; and it was also true that I had met hundreds of other nobles that were secretly hiding ill intentions up their sleeves ... but I had never encountered a guest before that was actually willing to physically assault and sexually harass me, nor any of the other servants. Not only that, but this guest was also blackmailing me with my Little Lord's responsibilities in order to get me to agree to sleep with him ... and what made this whole predicament even worse was the fact that I knew that Mr. Damiano was right about the possible risks that could come with Master Ciel abruptly losing the East India Factory.

The East India Factory had been doing incredibly well and Bocchan had received plenty of praise for his part in its progress. He had given plenty of generous donations to help the business carry out its prior expansions, as well as assisted in having people that were in desperate need of jobs located so they could support their families. So, if the factory was sold ... not only would the Small Earl lose everything that he had put into it, but those people would more than likely lose their spots as employees and that would definitely add more fuel to the fire.

With that being said, as much as I despised admitting it ... I knew that I couldn't allow the Italian businessman to sell the East India Factory.

I slowly lowered my head and looked off to the side, wanting to avoid eye contact with that scandalous, perverted, overdressed asshole. At the same time, as the look in my magenta orbs became distant, my face fell in a noticeable mixture of disappointment and anger. Then, I couldn't help but notice how much stronger the scents on Mr. Damiano were. He smelled like sandalwood, nutmeg, and amber—and despite how those smells were usually pleasant, they felt like they were beginning to rip me apart on the inside. Both disgusted and unnerved, a piece of me almost cringed as the inappropriate mental pictures of Mr. Damiano's naked body rocking on top of mine began to appear in my brain.

"Well, well, well ... would you look at that?" Mr. Damiano snickered with a cocky, satisfied glint in his eyes. "Is that defeat that I see in your eyes, Elise?"

With little reluctance, I sent him a weak—yet serious—glare and grumbled through slightly clenched teeth, "Screw you, damn brute..."

The blue-eyed gentleman ignored my words and carelessly dropped the wooden spoon back onto the counter. After that, he placed one of his gloved hands back against my cheek and stroked his thumb along the bottom of my eye as he stared deeply into them once again. The whole time, the grin on his face remained ominous and lustful.

"I expect you to give me your final answer by the time that your Master and I are finished discussing the contract ... and if you even think about telling anyone about what happened here, whether it be one of your coworkers or the puny Earl himself..." Mr. Damiano squinted at me, looking deadly serious as he delicately dragged his knuckles down my cheek and lowered his voice into a threatening whisper. "...Not only will I not hesitate to sell the factory, but I'll be sure that you won't be around to see the crack of dawn. You'd be very surprised with how easy it is these days to get in contact with people that are truly willing to break another person's neck for the cheapest price. With that ... I really think that you should start pondering your options. The clock is ticking."

I already knew what option that I was going to have to choose in order to protect the Little Lord's reputation and I loathed it more than words could possibly describe. It sent shivers down my spine and caused something in the pit of my stomach to grow tight, despite how such things weren't noticeable by the expression on my face. Again, I was staring at the Italian businessman like he had just gotten done sprouting a third eye, only because he had decided to push his boundaries even further by threatening to kill me.

Suddenly, within seconds after that ... there was the sound of two more pairs of footsteps coming down the corridor that was right outside the kitchen. Almost immediately after I heard them, it came to my realization that I must've not noticed them when they were further back because not long after they caught my attention, Bard and Finny appeared in the doorway. They were staring at each other, engaged in a conversation.

"That was quite a slip-up that Mey-Rin had with the wine during dinner." Finny commented sympathetically. "Are you sure that she'll be alright?"

Bard removed an unlit cigarette from between his lips, holding it between his fingers as he replied reassuringly. "Yeah, let's not worry about her. Let's just be grateful that we managed to get her to her and Elise's room so she would be able to lay down for a bit before having to sweep. It's probably best if she stays out of Sebastian's sight for awhile anyway."

The gardener gave a couple of faint nods. "Yeah ... I suppose you're right, Bar—"

Just then, before Finny could finish that sentence, he ended up cutting himself off when he and Bard turned their heads to look into the kitchen ... only to end up seeing me backed up against the counter with Mr. Damiano pressed up against me almost entirely. I immediately became surprised, staring directly at the chef and the gardener with wide eyes since I hadn't expected them to walk in at that very moment. Mr. Damiano's reaction was very similar to mine, except his skin appeared to grow a little pale and he had a few beads of sweat beginning to form in random places around his hairline.

Bard's eyes quickly flickered back and forth between the two of us. He was clearly caught off guard, but it didn't take long at all before his face hardened into a strict, protective stare. He narrowed his eyes and didn't think twice before shoving his unlit cigarette into one of his pockets, showing that he definitely meant business. Finny, on the other hand, appeared to be much more disturbed—and considering his backstory, I could understand why. He was as stiff as a statue, staring into the kitchen with his mouth hanging open a little in shock and eyes automatically filling with worry.

"Hey!" Bard exclaimed, locking his attention mainly on the estate's guest as he finally entered the kitchen. "What in the hell is going on here?!"

With no hesitation, Mr. Damiano withdrew his one hand from a cheek, took a step back, and raised both of his hands up to his shoulders. Then, much to my dismay, he somehow managed to switch back over to using his perky accent, polite smile, and calm gestures, as if he had never shown such an abusive side of himself to begin with. At the same time, I let out a small huff of relief and was finally able to push myself away from the counter.

"Oh, dear! Would you look at that? If my assumptions are correct, the two of you are Lord Phantomhive's cook and gardener, no? I remember seeing you both lined up with that wise-looking steward and lovely maid upon my arrival." Mr. Damiano spoke cheerfully and warmly, making me want to shoot daggers at him. "Please, allow me to explain! I'm-a afraid that you both walked in at a rather inconvenient time."

"Is that so?" Bard inquired, obviously not having his defensive stance waver from the Italian businessman's optimism. "Well, whatever explanation there is, I'm sure that you won't mind sharing it while stepping back some more, sir."

Mr. Damiano faltered for a moment in slight surprise. "Excuse me?"

The chef explained further, extending an arm out in front of me while keeping his serious eyes glued to the manor's guest. "I'm afraid that you're a little too close to Mistress Elise for my liking. You see, in this manor, we respect each other's personal boundaries and, with all due respect ... it's never right for a man to have himself pressed up against a woman like that."

"Uh ... yes, certainly. However, this isn't at all what it appears to be." Mr. Damiano informed, maintaining a calm and reassuring tone as he agreed to take a couple of more steps back. "I hope that you'll forgive me for sending out the wrong message, but I can assure you that there's a perfect explanation for what you both saw."

Bard cocked an eyebrow and placed his opposite hand on his hip. "And that would be?"

"When dinner came to a conclusion, I ended up needing to need to excuse myself for the restroom. However, it didn't take long for me to find myself getting lost in the corridors and I ended up detecting this wonderfully delectable scent. It must've been the dessert preparations. So, I followed it and just so happened to encounter Miss Michaelis once more."

The first thought that came to my mind after hearing that was, "You damn bitch!" However, I knew that I couldn't say such a thing. Mr. Damiano made it perfectly clear on what would happen if I didn't agree to sleep with him and if I tried reporting what he did to anyone. It would be farewell to the East India Factory...

"Okay ... so that explains why you're in the Servants' Area." Bard pointed out watchfully. "But that's not the part that I'm focused on, sir. You were practically on top of Mistress Elise and that's what I would like an explanation for."

"Ah, of course! How silly of me! My, my! Lord Phantomhive is certainly very fortunate to have such dedicated servants that aren't only determined to take care of him, but each other as well." Mr. Damiano remarked, and it was evident to me that he was trying to shift the chef's attention away from him ... but when he failed to do that, the Italian gentleman carried on with another convincing lie. "You see, like most nobles, I grew up in a very neat home and I just so happened to have a mother that was obsessed with keeping everything tidy. So, when I approached Miss Michaelis to ask her about the restroom, I just so happened to notice a speck of dirt on her face. Surely, it came from her working outside ... and I just couldn't allow her to walk around the rest of the evening with it dirtying her cheek. So, I offered to wipe it away for her and that's when the two of you just so happened to walk in."

Finny dropped his gaze down to the floor, still remaining where he was in the doorway with the look on his face making it seem like he lost his puppy. Then, he peeked over in my direction and said, "Is that true, Elise?"

I nearly grimaced, hating to be put on the spot. Lying about guests were a big no-no when it came to being Phantomhive servants, but I had no choice in this predicament. So, with the eyes of the gardener, the chef, and the Italian businessman now staring at me, I forced my lips to mold into a small—yet realistic—grin.

"Yes, indeed. What the two of you saw was just one big misunderstanding." I concluded, in which I just so happened to witness Mr. Damiano's proper smile flicker back over to his sinister smirk for just a couple of seconds.

"Hmm..." Bard didn't seem fazed by my answer and, after taking a moment to examine me, redirected his attention back over to the estate's guest. "If I were you, sir, I'd go to the bathroom quickly. The Young Master is on a strict schedule and he doesn't like being kept waiting."

"Of course. I appreciate you taking the time to listen ... and my most sincere apologies for making you at all uncomfortable if I did, Miss Michaelis."

The corner of my mouth twitched, showing that I was forcing myself to hold back on a growl. In return, Mr. Damiano's dark blue orbs glimmered with dark satisfaction and he finally turned away to leave. At the same time, Finny stepped aside in the doorway and pointed down in the left direction of the corridor.

"The nearest bathroom is just down this hallway and around the corner, sir."

Mr. Damiano barely mumbled back, "Thank you." Then, without looking back again, he exited the kitchen and disappeared from sight.

The entire room fell silent, in which the gardener, the chef, and I listened to the sound of the guest's footsteps grow fainter and fainter. Eventually, they became so distant to the point where it was evident that it would be impossible for Mr. Damiano to possibly hear anything else be said. That's when Bard retracted his arm from where it was still extended in front of me, right before he turned completely around to face me with utter concern now decorating his features.

"Elise ... what in the world was that?" Bard inquired.

I batted my lashes at him in false confusion. "What do you mean?"

The chef nearly scoffed, gesturing his arm in the direction that Mr. Damiano had departed from. "That guest! Surely, he doesn't really think that a person has to get that close to somebody else in order to wipe something away from their face!"

"Ahh, Bard. You know how Italians are. It's very common for them to express their thoughts and emotions in the form of gestures." I pointed out, and despite how that was a fact that I had observed after my many, many years of living, I really didn't like having to hide this situation from my coworkers. "Personal space isn't very common among them, that's all."

"But, Elise..." Finny spoke up, frowning worriedly. "He didn't look like he was being very kind or gentle towards you..."

"I don't think that he was being respectful at all either." Bard agreed with his turquoise orbs beginning to shine in a protective manner once again. "For cryin' out loud, you were practically pinned against the counter! And what happened to your cheeks?! Christ, they look like they're as red as two fresh sticks of dynamite!"

I straightened my lips, trying not to wince as I recalled how much my cheeks burned after having two sharp smacks delivered to them from the wooden spoon. There was a faint pause, in which I pretended to be caught up in readjusting the wilted tulip that was still behind my ear. At the same time, I noticed Finny curl his hands up into nervous fists, meaning that he must've just noticed the two scarlet blotches that were now covering my pale cheeks.

"Please, Bard, stay calm. There's no need to get worked up." I finally said with my voice remaining perfectly convincing. "My cheeks have just started itching a little. If I had to guess, I'm probably having a minor allergic reaction to something from the garden."

"The garden? But ... you're outside quite often and I've never seen you have any sort of allergic reaction before, Elise." Finny pointed out, starting to look more sympathetic. "In fact, I never thought that you or Sebastian had any allergies. Umm ... maybe we should tell the Young Master about—"

"No." I almost immediately cut the gardener off, flicking my attention back and forth from him to the chef. "There's certainly no need to inform the Young Lord about any of this. Now, I'm sorry to have to rush this conversation along, but speaking of the Young Master, he had instructed me to head back to the Drawing Room by the time that dinner came to an end. I don't want to be late ... so, if you the two of you don't mind, I really must be on my way."

"Elise..." Bard attempted to speak with his face beginning to soften in compassion.

"Please do me the favor of pouring the filling that's in that pot into the pie crust, Bard. Just make sure that it's completely cool first. After that, I believe that you can find Sebastian to carry on with the dessert preparations for me. I'll reunite with the two of you again later on, okay?"

Without giving either of my fellow colleagues the chance to say anything back, I left the kitchen and felt the weight of Mr. Damiano's threats continue to push down on my head, neck, and shoulders. Along the way, I wore an empty frown and tried to ignore how I was going to have to suck it up and sleep with him in order to prevent him from possibly damaging my Little Lord's reputation. Not only that, but I was going to have to get through the rest of this meeting, still treating the Italian businessman like the proper guest that he actually wasn't. It was going to be infuriating.

A/N: Bookmark #3

As soon as I entered the Drawing Room, the first thing that I saw was Mr. Damiano already sitting in the same chair that he had been earlier. Across from him, the Small Earl had just finished seating himself as well, probably because he had been standing by the window or simply walking around the room in order to get the opportunity to stretch his legs a little. A faint smirk curled up on one of the corners of the Italian gentleman's lips and he sent a wink in my direction, nearly making me feel like I was seconds away from tossing him through one of the windows. However, since I had to make sure that I remained in my "perfect nanny" character, I only shot a disapproving glare in Mr. Damiano's direction and ended up closing the door with bang that was slightly more rough than usual. Nonetheless, Bocchan didn't seem to mind the fact that I had just forced the door shut a little harder than necessary. On the contrary, he appeared to be more annoyed in how I hadn't arrived sooner.

"It's about time that you managed to join us, Elise. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to ring for Sebastian and make it an order for him to find you." Master Ciel informed, making sure not to sound too authoritative in the presence of his guest. "Judging by how long you've been in the kitchen, I assume that a great deal of the dessert preparations were taken care of?"

I approached the Small Lord's chair, right before I bowed my head and preformed a respectful curtsy. "Indeed, Young Master. Please, forgive me for taking longer than expected. I understand that you wanted me to arrive back in this room by the time that dinner reached its conclusion, but I'm afraid that while I was preparing the filling for the Lemon Meringue Pie, the preparations got a little ... messy. Nonetheless, there's no need to worry about any of it. I have it all under control."

At the word "messy," the Puny Earl appeared to become a little skeptical and I made sure to send a pointed look over in Mr. Damiano's direction from the corner of my eye. Shortly after that, I noticed that my Master was beginning to examine me from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head with a vague amount of confusion twinkling in his visible eye. I didn't know whether he noticed the bright red, gradually fading marks on my cheeks or not; but if he did, he must've not wanted to bring them up in front of the Italian businessman.

Instead, his attention was almost entirely captured by how I was still wearing one of the kitchen aprons, along with a pair of disposable gloves instead of my typical black gloves. I almost found myself smirking, but managed to submerge the urge to do so as I pretended to smooth out a couple of nonexistent wrinkles on the apron. That was my sign to the Young Lord, letting him know that I had my reasons for keeping my uniform covered for the time being. In return, he made brief eye contact with me, eventually gave a faint nod of approval, and then redirected his gaze back over to the Italian gentleman.

"Now, Mr. Damiano ... I hope that the food was to your liking." Bocchan said simply, as if my tardiness had never bothered him.

"Oh, it definitely was!" Mr. Damiano replied. The friendliness in his accent made me roll my maroon eyes to myself in annoyance, right before I locked my attention on a deer head that was hanging over the fireplace and began to imagine Mr. Damiano's head in its place. "That was a thoroughly enjoyable dinner, my Lord. Now then, about the contract…"

The Small Earl straightened himself up more in his chair and interrupted, "Before we discuss that, we must finish the game."

"Ah ... yes, of course." Mr. Damiano agreed rather reluctantly, staring at my Little Lord with a somewhat tired smile. "I do have a pressing-a appointment, perhaps another ti—"

"Children can be very demanding about their games." Master Ciel warned, shortly before an ominous smirk spread across his features. "Surely you wouldn't want me to get upset."

A small, but very dark smile of my own curled up on the corners of my lips after I heard that final sentence from the Puny Master. At the same time, it didn't go unnoticed by me that Mr. Damiano looked like he was seconds away from sneering; but before he could, he quickly pulled himself back together and continued to speak as professionally as possible.

"No ... no, of course not. Perhaps you would permit me to use your telephone?"

Bocchan hesitated for a moment, giving the Italian gentleman a couple of more seconds to observe his mysterious smile. Then, with a single, breathy chuckle that was barely audible, the Small Lord glanced up at me and gave a small gesture to let me know that he approved of Mr. Damiano's request. I gave a nod in return, right before I flicked my gaze back over to the Italian pervert.

"Very well, Mr. Damiano. I'm sure that you recall the hallway that you were first escorted through upon your arrival, yes? Go back there and you'll find a small set of stairs that will lead you down to another corridor. Walk down it and the Telephone Room should be opened since it's typically only closed whenever somebody else is already making a call."

As I spoke, not only was I preventing myself from scowling or sounding bitter, but I was also making sure that I wasn't giving it away that I found Mr. Damiano's request to be very suspicious. Whatever this phone call was meant to be about, I didn't see any reason for it to interfere with his meeting with the Queen's Watchdog.

Then, to make his behavior stand out even more, I witnessed Mr. Damiano's face become rather impatient and boorish. Not only that, but he didn't say anything back after receiving my instructions. Instead, he stood up and began walking towards the door with his hands looking like they were trying not to curl up into irritated fists. My wine-colored hues observed each of his moves closely, almost immediately narrowing at the thought of him being up to another scheme of some sort.

Just as Mr. Damiano made it over to the door, it had already opened to reveal somebody else. It was Sebastian, who was advertising a sophisticated grin and pushing a trolley that had a tea set neatly placed on it.

"I've brought some tea for you and my Lord."

Without showing any interest, the Italian businessman walked past the butler and grumbled in response, "I'll be right back."

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder in slight surprise, watching him go. It only took a couple of seconds after that before I witnessed the disapproval begin to glimmer in his ruby-like eyes, probably in regards to the Italian gentleman's tone. Nonetheless, instead of objecting, my brother only shook his head to himself and continued to roll the trolley into the Drawing Room.

"Where, might I ask, is our guest off to?" Sebastian asked as he picked up the shiny pot and began to skillfully pour some steaming tea into one of the elegant teacups.

"He requested to use the Young Master's telephone. So, I gave him instructions to the Telephone Room." I replied, hoping by now that the red marks on my cheeks had faded enough to the point where they would no longer be worth looking at.

Sebastian stared at me for a moment, saying nothing as he stopped pouring the tea and placed the pot back down on the trolley. I maintained eye contact with him the entire time, internally sighing in relief when he didn't speak up about the blotches that were possibly still visible on my face.

"Ah. I see." Sebastian said after what felt like an eternity, right before he picked up the saucer and offered it to the Puny Master. "Your tea, Young Lord."

Bocchan took the saucer and lifted the teacup from it. However, not long after he started wavering it under his nose, his face scrunched up and the disgust was completely exposed in his sapphire eye.

"What is this? It smells terribly weak." Master Ciel commented with a glare.

From where I was standing beside his chair, it was quite easy for me to catch a whiff of the tea myself. It almost had me crinkling my nose in displeasure, but I settled for fanning the area around my face instead.

"Oh, gracious! If the aroma is this weak, then I'm afraid that I can't imagine that the taste would be very strong either." I concluded, shortly before I cut my gaze over to my brother for any other possible information. "Sebastian?"

He explained easily, "Out of consideration for our guest, I brought some Italian tea."

"Italian?" Bocchan asked, setting the teacup back down on its saucer.

I rolled my magenta eyes to myself again, pretending to fiddle around with Finny's shriveling tulip once more in order to prevent the Small Master or the butler from noticing.

"I swear, by the end of this night, anything that revolves around the Italian culture will make me want to vomit out of spite." I mentally grumbled.

Sebastian turned to look at Master Ciel, going into more detail. "Italians drink more coffee than tea, sir. So, finding high-quality Italian tea can be difficult. This particular selection is not to your liking, Master?"

The Puny Lord stared at his reflection in the pale brown liquid, narrowing his visible eye at it as he answered with, "No, it is not. I don't like it at all."

A strong silence abruptly filled the room and the air became heavy. Sebastian and I exchanged glances, now wearing similar expressions that made it obvious that we weren't pleased to hear that our Master was having to drink a beverage that he didn't admire—all because of Mr. Damiano.

"Elise and I will see to what's left of the dessert preparations." Sebastian declared, putting an end to the silence.

"Good. We must show him every available hospitality." Bocchan said, right before he flashed another one of his cryptic grins at me and my brother. "The Phantomhive family is known for its courtesy."

I bit down on the inside of my cheek for a moment, giving myself a quick reminder that in order to prevent the Small Lord from losing the East India Factory, I just couldn't allow myself to speak about how Mr. Damiano didn't deserve any hospitality or courtesy. After that, I managed to twist my lips into a realistic smile that was just as eerie as Master Ciel's. Sebastian, on the other hand, had already been grinning.

"Yes, our Young Lord." Sebastian and I said in perfect unison, in which he bowed and I curtsied.

Then, as we straightened ourselves back up and lifted our heads again, it was revealed that our eyes were no longer normal. Instead, Sebastian's pupils had transformed into thin, cat-like slits and his eyes were glowing like two fascia bulbs on a Christmas tree. My eyes were different—they had pupils that were in the shape of diamonds, stretching and narrowing in a surprisingly calm manner; and the rest of my eyes were gleaming like vibrant pools of flickering, purple embers.

"You're both dismissed." Master Ciel said, waving us off with his unoccupied hand. "Go on now."

Almost immediately after we were given permission to leave, my eyes transformed back into their human ones and I turned my back on the Puny Lord. My mind completely shifted, going back to thinking about how fishy I thought it was for Mr. Damiano to want to make a phone call when he was supposed to be consulting with my Little Master. I was determined to get to the bottom of what this sudden phone call request was about, especially after going through everything that I had back in the kitchen.

Sebastian pursued after me, his eyes also no longer appearing to be abnormal, and the two of us departed from the Drawing Room. As soon as we stepped out into the corridor, I waited for him to close the door before I said anything, wanting to cut right to the chase in order to prevent wasting anymore time.

"Well, Sebastian, now that the Small Master has his ... doable tea from Italy and he doesn't seem to need me at his side right now, I'll go ahead and catch up with you at some point later on."

I made a move to begin heading down in the left direction of the corridor, but just as I had suspected, the butler stopped me almost instantly. He had reached his arm out and grabbed me by the shoulder with a firm, though harmless, grip.

"Hold on a second! Where do you think you're going? I just told the Young Lord that we would be on our way to the kitchen so we could finish the Lemon Meringue Pie." Sebastian said, as if I was in need of that reminder.

I shrugged his gloved hand away from me and turned back around to look at him. His crimson eyes were alert, as well as a little confused, and his features were completely covered with a new skeptical expression.

"I'm well-aware of what you said to our Master. However, I already finished the lemon filling and the actual pie crust. All that's left is the meringue, which I also just so happened to manage getting a head start shortly before I had to retreat to the Drawing Room like I was ordered to. With that being said, Sebastian, I'm pretty positive that you can handle the remaining steps for the pie on your own." I explained rather hastily. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other business to take care of."

Once again, I began to try walking down in the left direction of the hallway. However, this time, Sebastian decided to get me to freeze in my tracks by stepping in front of me. We stared directly at each other and by this point, my face was beginning to grow very serious.

"Hold it right there! Just what kind of business are you referring to?" Sebastian inquired.

I answered bluntly, "Business that you don't have to worry about."

After that, when I attempted to step around my brother, he stopped me yet again by placing himself in my path. He stood perfectly straight and stared directly into my magenta orbs with his own scarlet eyes beginning to narrow.

"What in the devil's name has gotten into you, Elise?" He asked, still keeping his accent proper while also mixing some seriousness and disapproval into it. "Ever since dinner, your behavior has been awfully suspicious and it has been influencing my thoughts for quite some time now. By this point, it's evident to me that you're keeping something to yourself."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and huffed. "Sebastian, I really don't have time for these accusations of yours."

"If they were nothing more than just empty accusations, I highly doubt that you would suddenly have those red blotches on your cheeks. Do you actually believe that I can't see them?" The butler narrowed his eyes a little more at me, watching as I almost faltered from him bringing up the marks on my face. "If there's something going on, Elise, I expect you to tell me. Especially if it somehow involves the Young Master."

"It's nothing for you to fixate on!" I proclaimed, trying to get my point across without raising my voice too much and possibly alerting the Little Lord. "I'm handling it all just fine on my own!"

Sebastian nearly scoffed, the look in his eyes giving it away that he couldn't believe that I had just admitted that I did know something and was choosing not to tell him.

"Why must you be so secretive? Must I remind you that it's a requirement for me to be just as on guard for the Young Lord as you? If there is a threat of some sort, then—"

Suddenly, my brother cut himself off and I noticed him shift his attention to something behind me. At first, I raised an eyebrow in confusion; but then, as I took a glance over my shoulder, I realized that Finny and Bard had appeared from around the corner of the right end of the hall. I didn't have the slightest clue as to how much they had heard, but judging by the blend of reluctance and concern that was visible in both of their eyes, it was obvious that they heard quite a lot. The two of them were walking side-by-side, slowly approaching me and Sebastian.

I exhaled slowly, while Sebastian acted natural by pretending to fix his tie.

"Umm..." Bard spoke up, awkwardly scratching at his jaw with another unlit cigarette placed between two of his fingers. "Is this a bad time?"

The butler casually cleared his throat before responding. "No, not at all. In fact, I've been meaning to find the two of you to discuss the portrait in the Great Room—Hey, excuse me! Elise!"

With him distracted by the presence of the chef and the gardener, I decided to use this moment as my opportunity to finally step around him and hurry so I could eavesdrop on Mr. Damiano's phone call. Even when Sebastian called out my name, I kept walking down the opposite direction of the corridor. With every step that I took, I could feel all three pairs of eyes following me.

"Do me a favor, would you, Sebastian? Focus on your duties as a butler and let me focus on my duties as a nanny!"

I never looked back, determined to handle this task once and for all.

Not long after my departure from the upstairs floor, I managed to make it all the way to the opposite side of the mansion. My eyes were alert, darting back and forth from my high-heeled boots to the entrance of the Telephone Room as I quickly, but quietly, trotted down the narrow staircase. The door was cracked open and I could see that the light was turned on, giving it away that the Italian businessman was still on the phone.

When I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I sunk into the dark shadows that completely engulfed the rest of the corridor and stuck close to the wall while stealthily tiptoeing over to the door. Along the way, my nose began to twitch in disgust as I picked up the unexpected aroma of something burning. Then, when I finally made it over to the entrance of the Telephone Room—which was nothing more than a closet-sized room with a telephone in it—I peeked in and saw that Mr. Damiano was smoking a cigar while speaking on the phone to an unknown source.

"I'm-a tired of-a babysitting this-a child Earl." He sneered, but it didn't take long before his irritation was replaced by a mixture of mischief and dark humor. "The only bright side to this mission is that he has a nanny. She's convinced that I'll-a spare the factory if she gives that sexy body of hers to me for a night. Servants these days will do anything for their masters, so I'm-a positive that she will be having sex with me just as fast as all of those other clueless women had. Huh? ... Yes, I've already sold off the factory."

In less than a second, my heart took a powerful leap in my chest, making it almost feel like I had just been shot. At the same time, my jaw dropped and my wine-colored eyes grew to be the size of two cricket balls. That final sentence from the Italian businessman had actually managed to catch me off guard, ringing repeatedly in my ears.

"Now, all that's left is to pocket the extra cash. I'm trying to squeeze more out of the brat right now." Mr. Damiano continued on, chuckling mischievously. "The employees? Who cares about them? I already told you, I've got the nanny in the palm of my hand. The other employees are simply useless."

As soon as I heard my Little Lord get addressed as a "brat," my face hardened into the deadliest, most threatening stare that could terrify any possible thing that had a pulse. Once again, my eyes started to flare brighter than flames from the deepest pit of Hell and my knuckles made a light, crackling sound as I curled my hands into tight fists. Then, as I felt the rage shoot through my body like hot spurts of lava, a sharp gust of wind shot through the corridor. It was colder than ice, hitting against the door of the Telephone Room and making it move a little with a haunting squeak.

"Ah...!" Mr. Damiano gasped, immediately turning to face the door in alarm. Although, when he failed to see anything, he went back to the receiver with slight reluctance. "Never mind. The rest of the formalities are for you to deal with."

I began to grind my teeth behind my closed lips, remaining cloaked in the shadows with only my abnormal eyes able to be seen.

"No, it'll be easy." Mr. Damiano assured, grinning menacingly again. "Please, he's only a child. Now, I need-a go before the nanny or butler begin to question what's taking me so long. I'll-a call you again tomorrow."

With that, as the Italian businessman lowered the telephone from his ear and placed it back down on the receiver, I walked past the doorway like a spooky specter. Then, after positioning myself silently against the wall again, I peeked back into the Telephone Room and witnessed Mr. Damiano stub out his cigar before he reached into his pocket, pulled out a mint, and tossed into his mouth. Finally, I pulled myself back into the pitch-blackness of the hallway as the denim-eyed man turned back around and departed from the Telephone Room.

Remaining unseen, I watched with my devilish eyes continuing to glow as Mr. Damiano walked with his back in my direction. I narrowed them, as if I was a ravenous animal that was staring at its prey. This bastard wasn't just a pervert ... but he was a conman, too. He had already sold the East India Factory, but had told me back in the kitchen that he hadn't and wasn't going to unless I slept with him. He was planning to make me into one of his personal sex dolls ... but that's not the part that enraged me. On the contrary ... the fact that he was planning to scam my Master was what I saw as the last straw.

"Oh, Mr. Damiano ... you dare lie to me? The nanny of the Phantomhive estate?" I sneered mentally, continuing to watch as he began to walk back up the narrow set of stairs. "Treating women like they're personal toys for your lustful desires is pathetic and revolting ... but now, you pushed even further and made the grave mistake of dragging my Puny Master into this scam of yours. I take it that you like to play dirty, eh?"

An endless list of gruesome situations involving Mr. Damiano played in my head like a slideshow. As this happened, my lips stretched into an enormous, cunning, evil smirk that could make anybody's blood run cold, and I could feel what was most definitely delight beginning to pulsate through my body with every pump that my heart made. At the same time, my anger continued to boil inside of me ... and I knew exactly what I was going to do.

"Very well then, Mr. Damiano..." I began to stalk after the guest, keeping my steps practically soundless. "Let's play."

A/N: Bookmark #4

If there was one thing that Sebastian and I had in common with the Little Lord, it was that we never cared to show mercy during our games. I made sure to stay back far enough in order to prevent Mr. Damiano from possibly detecting my presence, but no matter how much distance was between us, I always remained right on his tail. Eventually, I had followed him into the Great Room, which—by this point in the evening—was only lit by the illumination of a few candles. I fast-walked across the marble floor, still lingering through the mansion like a poltergeist as my heels clicked faintly with every step that I took. I then made it behind one of the large, fancy pillars and peered my head out from around it, watching as the Italian conman began to head up the main staircase.

Once again, my human eyes altered into their unnatural ones. They flared like two, shimmery, bright purple balls of burning embers and my diamond-like pupils began to stretch and narrow in thought. I'd done this a countless amount of times before, but every situation was different ... because they each revolved around a different game of Master Ciel's. With that being said, I had to match the situations from "Road to Ruins" to Mr. Damiano's fate.

I continued to watch as the denim-eyed businessman finally made it up to the platform on the stairs. After that, I flicked my attention over at the large portrait of Bocchan's parents. This time, I didn't detect any odd sensations while looking at it—more than likely because I was focused entirely on handling Mr. Damiano right now.

"Hmm ... I think that we should start off with some hallucinations."

With that thought on my mind, I kept my eyes on the obscure details of Vincent Phantomhive's face. Then, while wearing a wicked smile and exhaling through my nose like a vicious animal, I lifted my one of my gloved hands. My fingers were curled like claws and I could sense my scary eyes glowing even more intensely as I concentrated on the previous Earl's face.

At the exact same time, Mr. Damiano just so happened to freeze in his tracks and he made my job much easier by cautiously turning to look at the portrait—probably because he was uncomfortable by how it seemed to be overlooking everything else in the manor. Not even a split second later, I wielded for a ghostly entity's face with empty black sockets to appear on Vincent Phantomhive's face. It stared down at the Italian pervert, wearing the previous Earl's smile in an unnerving manner.

"Ah...!" Mr. Damiano nearly choked on his own gasp, staring with spooked eyes before he quickly rubbed them with the back of his hand.

I dropped my hand, having the eerie face disappear. After that, as I muffled a couple of dark chuckles under my breath, I watched as Mr. Damiano lowered his arm and saw that there was no longer anything wrong with the portrait of my Puny Master's parents.

"Impossible…" Mr. Damiano whispered to himself, noticeably still shaken a bit. "I'm-a seeing things."

After that, he turned back around and pursued up the stairs ... but I wasn't through with the mind games.

I relaxed my eyes shut for a moment before opening them halfway. Then, with them still shining monstrously, another bone-chilling breeze suddenly darted through the Great Room. I felt it zoom past me from behind, causing a few of my stray hairs to flutter ... and that's when I did it.

"'Bewitched by the eyes of the dead.'" My feminine British accent had completely changed, sounding exactly like Master Ciel's voice instead.

It filled the whole room like an ominous fog, stunning the Italian businessman. Again, he froze on the stairs and his eyes grew to be the size of plates as he felt the icy draft stroke against the back of his neck like the dead fingers of a corpse. I could sense how uneasy he was and it was evident that he was already beginning to wonder about his sanity.

"Ah..." Mr. Damiano sighed, forming a nervous grin. "No, that's ridiculous."

Once more, he continued on his way and finally made it to the upstairs floor.

"My, my. Trying to act fearless, I see." I murmured menacingly, speaking in my elegant voice again with some leftover snickers continuing to fall from my lips. "Well, that's okay ... I love when I'm given a challenge."

I stepped out from behind the pillar and, while folding my hands neatly in front of myself, continued to stalk after the Italian conman in order to avoid losing track of him. I was quick enough to be intimidating, but also slow enough to appear nonchalant. After I finished ascending up the stairs, I poked my head out from around the corner of the somewhat dim hallway. That's when I saw that the Italian conman was zig-zagging between doors, grumbling to himself in disappointment every time that he opened one and realized that they none of them lead into the Drawing Room.

"Oh..." Mr. Damiano slumped his shoulders after opening the door that entered the Billiard's Room, right before he tried the one across from it. "Not here either. Or here…"

He continued this process for about five minutes, turning down a variety of more corridors and still not realizing that I was following him in the shadows. The Italian conman was beginning to grow frustrated, huffing, glaring, and cursing to himself in Italian whenever he opened a door and saw that it didn't enter the Drawing Room. Eventually, he began venturing down a corridor that was mostly engulfed with darkness—courtesy of how there were a variety of lights in random parts of the mansion that needed to be examined.

"This manor is like a giant maze. I can't even find the Drawing Room." Mr. Damiano sneered.

Meanwhile, he was so caught up in his search that he didn't notice me. I was so quick and stealthy, knelt down beside one of the few ornate chairs that were lined up against the wall for decoration purposes. The darkness continued to assist in keeping me hidden as my wine-colored orbs began to glow diabolically again.

"'Bewitched by the eyes of the dead.'" My voice echoed once again in a haunting whisper, perfectly mimicking my Small Lord's accent.

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps beginning to creak against the floor, coming from all the way down on the opposite end of the corridor. That, along with my spooky message, immediately had the denim-eyed businessman coming to a sharp halt. At the same time, I quickly peered down the hallway and noticed that the portrait of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive had appeared out of nowhere. It was being carried ... but since it was so dark, I knew that Mr. Damiano wouldn't be able to notice that and I didn't hesitate to use his unawareness to my advantage.

Once again, I lifted one of my hands, positioned my fingers like claws, and focused immensely. Within seconds, I was able to make it look like the previous Earl was emerging from the darkness—except, he was headless. Then, I wielded the same spectral face from before, having it placed on Vincent Phantomhive's body with its hollow sockets staring directly at the Italian conman.

Complete horror came over Mr. Damiano's face and he seemed to become as pale as a sheet. He took multiple steps back at the sight of the creepy entity, looking like he was trying to get himself to scream. Instead, what came out of his mouth sounded like a mixture of a gasps, whimpers, and huffs.

"Ah ... eh, ahh!"

A few more seconds after that, Mr. Damiano spun around so fast to the point where he almost tripped over his own feet; but he managed to catch himself and he began to bolt as fast as he could back in the direction he had already came.

"S-stay, stay away from me!"

As his voice bounced off the walls of the corridor, stammering and drenched in terror, I made the ghostly figure disappear and a new, cold grin appeared on my face. Then, as I decided to force myself to suppress the urge to laugh this time, I looked back down towards the end of the hallway that had the portrait being carried and saw that Finny had appeared. He was holding one end of the classy frame and staring down in my direction with confusion in his eyes, not seeing me because of the darkness.

"That's odd. Was that our guest I heard just now?"

"Hey!" Bard's voice called out from the opposite, unseen corner of the portrait. "We need to move this, or Sebastian will start yellin' again!"

Finny glanced away. "Right!"

I kept myself knelt down, watching and waiting until the gardener disappeared from view again. After that, I decided to take a different route in order to catch up with Mr. Damiano. I knew this manor like the back of my own hand, so I knew exactly which way to go. When I was sure that Finny and Bard had walked far enough away to not notice me, I rose back up onto my feet and trotted down in the direction that they had appeared.

"Pivot, Finny! Pivot!" Bard proclaimed, just as I made it down the hall and poked my head out from around the corner to observe them.

Finny blinked in confusion. "Umm ... what's that mean, Bard?"

"J-just—just turn it in my direction!"

With that, it was easy for me to establish that they would be too caught up in handling the portrait to notice me. So, I stuck close to the wall and slithered around the corner, sinking into the pitch-blackness that the chef and the gardener had previously came from. Afterwards, I traveled down a series of twists and turns, knowing exactly which corridors to head through in order to make it back to the Great Room. After all, it was obvious that by this point, Mr. Damiano would be eager to escape the estate and I simply couldn't allow that to happen just yet.

It took me less than two minutes to make it back to the Great Room's overhang. I emerged from the shadows at the south end and at first, I had been planning to head back down the first main hall in order to catch Mr. Damiano before he could make it to the Great Room. However, as soon as I appeared on the overhang, I ended up coming to a halt when I noticed that Mey-Rin was now on the ground floor. She was approaching the stairs with a bucket in one hand and a broom in the other hand. I kept my eyes on her, continuing to walk slowly across the overhang in order to prevent somehow catching her attention.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the maid froze and raised her arms up to her face as it flared up in embarrassment.

"Ohhh~! How embarrassing! Oh, I really messed up this time!" She squawked shamefully. Then, as if she were an innocent child, her face softened and it was obvious that she was beginning to daydream. "Oh ... but at least I was able to get close to Sebastian!"

Not even two seconds after that, Mey-Rin wildly shook her head like a dog that had just got done climbing out of a bath. Then, she began to madly flail her arms around.

"Oh, what a shameful day it is! What kind of lecherous maid am I?!"

Just then, as I successfully managed to make it all the way across the overhang without getting detected, a mild bang come from somewhere behind me. With no hesitation, I twisted my body halfway around in order to look back ... but there was no threat. Instead, the noise had come from the bucket that Mey-Rin had been holding. It had flown off its handle, no doubt from all of her limb tossing, and managed to soar all the way up to the second floor. After noticing it, I only blinked and continued on my way.

Within minutes, I was able to sense the Mr. Damiano's presence again. He was drawing near, evidently still lost in the sea of dark corridors ... but the one that I was hiding in was especially dark. It was the hallway that was in the direct center of the mansion's second floor, connecting each of the other corridors together. This meant that it had no windows and there weren't as many lights. Not only that, but none of the lights were actually on in this corridor for the time being, meaning that it was almost pitch-black and it would be incredibly difficult for any mere mortal to see. I, on the other hand, was able to see perfectly fine.

Eventually, the Italian conman appeared at the north end of the hall. He was panting hard and sweating frantically, almost running into the wall from being in such a rush.

"A-ah, shit!" Mr. Damiano cursed while squinting. "Why does this-a manor have to be so damn dark?!"

I listened carefully to his hectic breathing and as soon as I heard his footsteps beginning to trample down the corridor, I timed the next part perfectly. As soon as he was about to charge past me without even realizing, I shot my eyes open to reveal that they were inhuman once again. Then, a split second later, I stuck one of my legs out into the Italian pervert's path. One of his feet collided with my ankle and he immediately released a startled gasp, unable to save himself from toppling forward. His body collapsed to the ground with a loud bang.

Mr. Damiano practically choked on his own oxygen as it lurched out of his lungs without warning. After that, he clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut in discomfort.

"G— gahh! D-dammit!"

I stood directly beside his body, still without him noticing that I was in his presence. During his little "trip," my face had been emotionless; but as soon as he struck the floor and I thought about what was going to happen next, a maniacal grin practically tore its way across my porcelain features. At the same time, a total of six fangs just so happened to appear in my mouth and I didn't bother trying to hold in a couple of soft, unnerving chuckles that almost sounded like they belonged to some evil child.

At the sound of my quiet laughter, Mr. Damiano's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets and he didn't think twice before beginning to look in every which direction. Horrified bullets of sweat were beginning to trickle down from his hairline like they were in a race ... and no matter how frantically he looked, he couldn't see me in the dark.

"W-w-who's there?!" Mr. Damiano stammered, looking like he was seconds away from ruining his suit with his own waste. "I'm-a w-warning you! S-stay away!"

My eyes never left him, not even when I quietly reached underneath the skirt of my dress to retrieve the dart that I had taken from the Small Earl during breakfast this morning. It was still tucked securely underneath a few of the laces of my right boot. I withdrew it silently, holding it between two of my fingers ... and that's when I decided that it was time.

At the speed of lightning, I shot my other hand down, grabbed the Italian conman by his shoulder, and jerked him over so he would land roughly on his back. After that, without giving him the chance to let out a full scream yet, I positioned my legs on either side of his waist, squatted down, and dug my knees into his hipbones in order to prevent him from being able to move.

"H-h-hey! W-what's going on?!" Mr. Damiano proclaimed, only to end up letting out a gasp when he felt me firmly grab his left arm by its wrist and pin it above his head before he could do anything. "R-r-release me!"

In a small, simple flick of my fingers, the dart became positioned with the sharp point facing downwards. I clenched it tightly in my hand left hand, remaining where I was as the denim-eyed gentleman instantly began slamming his legs against the floor and trying to squirm around to regain his freedom. At the same time, he used his other hand to attempt punching and backhanding me; but not only was his aim almost entirely awful in the dark, but I was able to effortlessly dodge his free hand whenever it came close to meeting me.

Suddenly, just as Mr. Damiano grabbed my wrist to begin making pointless attempts to pry my hand away from his restrained one ... he finally managed to make eye contact with me. In the pitch-blackness of the corridor, all that could be seen of me was my eyes—my evil, beast-like eyes that were glowing brighter than two purple balls of fire and practically staring into the soul of this man. In less than a second, the estate's guest completely froze beneath me and he started to look like he was moments away from hyperventilating.

"W— w-who are you?!" Mr. Damiano inquired with his accent now on the verge of becoming shrill from his extreme amount of fear. "W— w-w-what are you?!"

I stayed quiet and my giant, fanged smirk remained plastered ear-to-ear across my face. Then, as I maintained eye contact with the Italian pervert and slowly raised the dart up into the air like a knife, a specific memory flashed through my brain—the one going back to his arrival, where he compared me to a black rose.

Finally, I spoke in a distant form of Bocchan's voice again, announcing creepily, "'You are pierced by the rose of death.'"

"P-p-please!" Mr. Damiano pleaded, shaking his head in berserk. "D-don't!"

His begging fell on deaf ears and I didn't allow another second to go by before I shot the dart down with full force. Its sharp, needle-like point pierced right through the fabric of his clothes and sunk deeply into his flesh. Mr. Damiano's scream was like music to my ears, making me hunger for more. So, I ripped the dart back out and kept ferociously stabbing like tomorrow would never come. Blood spurted, splashing against the apron that I was wearing and completely ruining the left side of the Italian conman's suit. From the very bottom of his left set of ribs, to the very top of his left hipbone ... I made sure to puncture every inch. Intense waves of satisfaction rippled through my body and diabolical snickers fell from my lips as my monstrous eyes drank in the sight of Mr. Damiano thrashing around and clawing at the floor in desperation.

"AAGGHH! S-SOMEBODY! H-HELP ME!"

I delivered about ten more stabs before I had to force myself to stop. It was very hard to do, but I knew that I had to avoid the possibility of killing the manor's guest or making him pass out.

Mr. Damiano was trembling like a leaf, caught up in a mixture of fear, shock, and disbelief. As soon as I jumped up from him, he practically jerked up into a sitting position and he clenched his teeth so hard to the point where it was a miracle that they weren't breaking. He breathed hard and cringed, pressing one hand firmly against his left side before he began dragging his ass backwards against the floor as fast as he could. Meanwhile, I closed my eyes to prevent him from being able to see them anymore.

"I— I'm-a getting the hell out of this mansion!" Mr. Damiano exclaimed in a panic, clambering back up and nearly tripping over his own feet a numerous amount of times.

I remained where I was, creepily humming in content as I watched him begin to sprint away as fast as he could with his new wounds. After that, I opened my eyes—revealing that they had went back to normal—and I raised the dart up to my face to look at it. It was completely covered in the Italian conman's blood, making me grin like I was doing nothing more than observing a flower that I had just picked.

"Well, that was incredibly entertaining ... but the game isn't over just yet." I whispered to myself, lightly chuckling as I used the hem of my crimson-stained apron to clean the needle-like point of the dart. Then, I pulled off the disposable pair of bloodied cooking gloves from my pale hands and exposed my Faustian mark. It sparkled in the darkness, in which I proceeded to place the dart inside one of the plastic gloves, wrap the other glove around it, and then stored them away inside one of the pockets of the apron. Finally, I reached into the other pocket, pulled out my black gloves with the purple ribbons tied around the wrists, and slipped them back on.

"I'll be sure to come back later for these." I murmured, in which I casually removed the grisly apron, opened the nearest door, and simply tossed it into the dark room. "Now ... let's continue."

I proceeded down the corridor, heading back in the direction of the Great Room to catch up with the estate's guest.

A/N: Bookmark #5

It didn't take long before I had Mr. Damiano in my sight again. He was still running as fast as his legs could carry him, nearly bumping into various hall tables, potted plants, and marble statues with every dim corridor that he sped down. Eventually, he burst back out from the shadows and into view on the Great Room's overhang. He was about to race around the corner, but immediately skidded to a halt when he noticed with just a split second to spare that if he had ran around the corner without looking, he would've went tumbling down the large staircase.

Mr. Damiano practically fell against the wall and breathed in agony, not even realizing that I was slowly approaching him from behind. Then, after briefly looking down at all of the blood that was now soaking his white glove, I noticed him quickly redirect his attention to over the railing. That's when my wine-colored orbs grew, considering how I knew that Mey-Rin was on the ground floor at this time. The Italian pervert must've noticed her too, because I saw him extend his other arm out in desperation.

"H— h-help me..." Mr. Damiano stammered breathlessly, still wincing.

In less than a second, I narrowed my eyes and I could tell that they practically exploded into their beastly ones again. At the same time, I sped my walking up and shot daggers at the denim-eyed conman's back, knowing that I couldn't allow him to request for help.

"There's nobody in this entire mansion that's going to help you, Mr. Damiano." I mentally sneered. "Now, on behalf of the Phantomhive estate ... have a nice trip!"

"'You lose one turn.'" I announced, narrating yet another part of Bocchan's game with my voice disguised as his once more.

Then, just as I saw Mr. Damiano about to make a move to quickly turn around, I quickly shot my arms out from the darkness and roughly shoved him in the back. A horrified gasp lurched out of his throat, just as he lost his balance and his body toppled forward, immediately beginning to violently roll down each of the stairs. Not only that, but I had angled the push just right ... so he ended up causing the bucket from Mey-Rin to fall down the staircase with him. That way, his "accident" really would be viewed as nothing more than just an accident.

"AGHHH" Mr. Damiano wailed as he fell, whacking his head and other limbs a numerous amount of times against the sturdy railing.

I watched the "unfortunate" event from around the corner, grinning evilly. Then, an unpleasant sound that could make any squeamish person want to vomit practically bounced off each of the walls in the Great Room.

SNAP!

Now, Mr. Damiano was lying in a rather uncomfortable manner at the very bottom of the stairs—upside down with his right leg completely twisted around in the opposite direction at the knee. He screwed his eyes shut as hard as any human possibly could and grinded his teeth in utter misery, letting out strained cries.

Mey-Rin immediately turned to look at him, dropping the broom and her jaw at the same time.

"Ah! Sir, are you alright?" She rushed to help him, but stopped and began to back up as soon as she noticed his injuries. "Ah! His right leg ... it's twisted round! What happened to it? And his left side ... it's all wounded! There's so much blood!"

Suddenly, Finny and Bard appeared from one of the east entrances, still carrying the portrait of the Small Lord's parents. They must've heard the loud crashing sounds from the Italian conman's fall.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Baldroy asked, staring at the maid in concern.

Mey-Rin quickly turned herself again, this time to face the two of them, and she pointed at Mr. Damiano as she exclaimed urgently, "Our guest! Something's happened!"

The gardener and the chef shifted their attention over the stairs, only to have their eyes expand in disbelief at the sight of the mansion's guest.

"Christ, what happened?!" Bard inquired while flicking his attention between both sets of injuries. "His leg! It's broken!"

"A-and his side!" Finny stammered. "I-it's all bloody! What could've caused that?!"

Mr. Damiano's face twitched in torment as he cracked his eyes open. At first, it was as if he hadn't noticed Finny, Mey-Rin, or Bard at all—more than likely because of the adrenaline. Nonetheless, it only took a couple of seconds before the Italian conman began to flick his distressed gaze between my three fellow coworkers.

"P-please! You— you need to help me!" Mr. Damiano exclaimed through his agitated breathing.

"Sir! Sir, please calm down!" Mey-Rin pleaded as she held her hands together like a small child.

Mr. Damiano shook his head eagerly, blurting out, "M-monster! There's a monster in this mansion!"

"A monster?" Bard repeated, cocking an eyebrow in confusion.

"I-it grabbed me upstairs and held me down! I-it was hiding in the dark!" Mr. Damiano continued on, terrified.

The chef and the maid exchanged concerned faces. The gardener, on the other hand, started to look more sympathetic as he kept his eyes on the manor's guest.

As this happened, I stifled a couple of chuckles, lifted one of my hands again, and decided to concentrate one final time on Vincent Phantomhive's shroud features. It didn't take long before I was able to have the exact same entity's face appear on the portrait, making it stare down at the Italian conman with its empty sockets positioned to show dark amusement. Then, I took it a little further by having the ghostly face move its mouth to match my words as I spoke yet again in Master Ciel's accent.

"'And now you lose one leg in the enchanted forest.'"

Mr. Damiano's eyes nearly exploded out of his skull as soon as he witnessed this. He let out a cry of fright, right before he proclaimed, "L-look! L-look right there!"

Finny, Bard, and Mey-Rin didn't hesitate to obey, tilting their heads up towards the portrait ... but I had already ceased my focus and made the hallucination fade away.

"Uhh..." The chef peeked back and forth between the other two servants, whispering. "What exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"

The maid let out a nervous whimper. "I-I don't know!"

"Umm, sir ... there's nothing there." settled the gardener, who was beginning to look even more worried for the Italian conman.

Finally, before Mr. Damiano could even begin to process how he had been the only one to have spotted the creepy face, I rounded the corner to reveal myself at the top of the stairs. Of course, I had made my wine-colored eyes return to normal beforehand and now, my face was decorated with fake—though realistic looking—concern. The game was just about over, meaning that it was time for me to cease the illusions and use my personal appearance for the remainder of the fun.

"Bard! Finny! Mey-Rin! What on Earth is going on down here?" I inquired, beginning to descend from the second set of stairs. "I was dusting the shelves in the Young Master's office when I suddenly heard this loud commotion."

My three coworkers cranked their necks up to look at me, almost instantly having relief beginning to sweep across their features. Mr. Damiano, on the other hand, was too caught up in his pain to even notice my presence just yet.

"Elise!" Bard and Finny said in unison.

Mey-Rin began madly waving her arms in the air again, as if she was stranded on a deserted island and trying to alert for help.

"Ah, Mistress Elise! Thank goodness you're here! It's our guest! Something horrible has happened to him!"

When I made it down onto the platform, I ceased in my tracks and pretended to observe the scene like it was my first time seeing it. Then, after setting my gaze on the Italian conman, I had my eyes widen in phony disbelief.

"Oh, dear! Mr. Damiano!" I huffed, raising a hand up to my chest and placing it over my heart in staged sympathy. "Mey-Rin! I assume that you were sweeping at this time, yes? What happened here?"

"H-he tripped and must've broken his leg in the fall, Miss! B-but I don't know what could've possibly caused all of those wounds on his side!"

As she explained, I started to descend from the next set of stairs and I stopped as soon as I made it down to the one that was right above the fallen body of the estate's guest.

"Actually, speaking of that..." Bard spoke up, making sure that Mr. Damiano wasn't looking at him before he locked his attention back on me and lowered his voice to a grumble. "I'm beginning to wonder if he ... possibly ... inflicted harm on himself. He was rambling about some monster and it appears that he's seeing things. Maybe he ... you know, took something when none of us were around."

I let out a believable sigh. "This is exactly why I'm hesitant to allow guests to have more than two glasses whenever alcohol is being served in this manor. Not only can it be responsible for such tragic accidents, but it can also influence the drinker to do things that they're unaware of ... and the results truly can be unimaginable. I'm afraid that his appointment with the Young Lord must end here."

As soon as I finished speaking, Mr. Damiano's eyes shot open and they automatically grew to be the size of when he saw the ghostly face. He stared up at me in utter terror and I stared back, looming over him with a menacing glint secretly shining in my own eyes.

"Here, Mr. Damiano. Allow me to—" I tried to reach my arms down to the denim-eyed conman, but he immediately flinched away.

"Y-you! Stay away from me! S-stay the hell away from me!"

I made another attempt to reach out to him, increasing his fear on purpose. "Please, sir, I want to make sure that you don't end up harming yourself even further."

"I-I said stay away! D— d-don't touch me!"

With that, Mr. Damiano flopped himself over onto his chest like a fish out of water and he began to crawl away as quickly as he could. As this happened, he gritted his teeth and continued to whimper from his overwhelming pain.

Mey-Rin extended an arm in his direction, calling out in sympathy, "Sir? Uh, sir? Come back?"

"That's just the wine talking." I declared, in which I finished walking down the remaining stairs. "The three of you can carry on with whatever chores you were doing. I'll be sure to help our guest."

Without waiting for a response, I pursued after the Italian pervert. He was beginning to crawl through the deteriorating corridors of the Servants' Area, urgently trying to find the door that he had entered through as soon as he arrived at the manor. However, as soon as he took a nervous glance back over his shoulder and noticed me standing at the end of the hallway, he let out a fearful cry and ended up flipping himself over onto his back. Now, he was dragging himself backwards on his ass and watching in panic as I began to calmly stride after him with an unsettling grin on my face.

"Now, now, now, Mr. Damiano. Where do you think you're crawling off to on such short notice?" I asked in a tone that was both pleasant and devious.

"D— d-don't come near me!" Mr. Damiano exclaimed. "I-it was you that did this to me! I-I know it was you!"

I chuckled under my breath. "Oh, my. It seems to me like you've had even more to drink than previously anticipated, Mr. Damiano. You even tripped over a bucket and toppled down the stairs in your tipsy haze!"

The mansion's guest practically barked at me in return, "Y-you pushed me! You wench! I-it was you that did all of this to me! M-monster!"

"Oh, Mr. Damiano." I exhaled and lightly shook my head at him with phony pity. "Do I look like a monster to you?"

Mr. Damiano cringed in fear, obviously sensing how my question was meant to be rhetorical. After that, despite his incredible amount of pain, he twisted himself back over onto his chest and continued to crawl once again in a frantic, dog-like fashion. I kept my eyes on him, listening to him grunt and watching as his sweat began to spread to the back of his neck; but then, after a couple of more seconds ... I found myself ceasing in my tracks when the Italian conman also froze in front of a pair of black-clothed legs that had seemed to appear out of nowhere.

I lifted my gaze up, surprised to see that it was none other than Sebastian. I faltered for a moment as the two of us made eye contact, automatically beginning to question how he knew to appear since that would've meant that he somehow knew about the game. I had been the only one that observed the Puny Lord and Mr. Damiano during their experience with "Road to Ruins" ... so, I had no idea how the butler found out about any of it. Nevertheless, I didn't see any harm in permitting him to join in for the grand finale—especially since he's had his own fair share of games in the past.

"Mr. Damiano ... I believe that you've already met my brother." I stated ominously.

As soon as he heard that, the Italian pervert's eyes bulged and he almost choked on some of his air. Then, with heavy reluctance, he glanced up at Sebastian.

The butler had already lowered his gaze, now staring directly into Mr. Damiano's anxious hues with an eerie smile spread across his lips.

"Surely, you aren't leaving the manor yet, sir?"

With a frightened yelp, Mr. Damiano practically threw himself back onto his ass and began to try scooting away. However, instead of making it far, he ended up backing up into my legs just seconds later. He tilted his head back as far as it could go and nearly shrieked as he saw me towering over him with a devious smile decorating my face once again.

"We haven't given you the full Phantomhive treatment yet. We still have to serve dessert." Sebastian continued on with his accent drenched in an uncomfortable amount of politeness.

"It's homemade Lemon Meringue Pie. You most certainly wouldn't want to miss it." I incorporated in a similar, unsettling manner.

Trembling like a leaf, the estate's guest quickly turned himself around, pushed past my legs, and started to crawl back in the direction that he had already came from. Sebastian and I casually followed after him, now walking beside each other with mischief reflecting in our eyes.

"You've lost a leg and got pierced in your side, remember? Now you can only move half the number of spaces while trying your hardest not to bleed out." Sebastian explained, confirming that he definitely did know about the game. "So, why not just relax a bit and make yourself at home?"

Mr. Damiano refused to listen. He continued to crawl like a desperate animal, cringing, grunting, sweating, bleeding, and heaving with every move that he made. Eventually, he made it all the way back down to the end of the hallway and he didn't think twice before turning down the corner.

Sebastian and I exchanged brief glances before he made a gesture for me to go further ahead in order to prevent us from losing sight on the Italian conman. I silently complied, walking faster until I rounded the same corner just in time to see the door that led into the kitchen get pushed shut. Still without saying anything, I looked back at the butler, who was still striding calmly, and motioned for him to follow me. After that, I approached the kitchen door with steps that were as light as feathers and I pressed my ear lightly against it.

Mr. Damiano's heavy panting could be heard on the other side, followed by him whispering, "Damn, It's too dark."

Not long after that, the sound of Sebastian's approaching footsteps filled the air. They clicked against the floor, purposely being used to enhance the denim-eyed pervert's fear even more.

Clink, clank ... clink, clank ... clink, clank...

I easily detected the sound of Mr. Damiano letting out an anxious gasp, followed by him firmly backing up into something.

Clank!

Mr. Damiano muttered, "Is this a cupboard?"

I raised an eyebrow and straightened myself back up, just as the butler finished approaching. The two of us, once again, stared silently at each other for a moment. Then, I grabbed the knob, twisted it as far as it could go, and pushed the door open to reveal the darkness of the kitchen. Sebastian was the first one to enter, while I walked in after him and simply stood with my body leaning back against the door. The dim lighting from the hall illuminated the room just faintly, showing no signs of the Italian conman. At first, I narrowed my eyes in confusion ... but then, I overheard the sound of something shuffling around. Sebastian must've heard it as well, because we both immediately turned our heads in its direction.

"Damn, these are really tight quarters." Mr. Damiano's uncomfortable voice came from the hiding place, followed by the sound of something squishing. "What's this…? Smells like sugar..."

Suddenly, there was a whoosh. With me watching, the butler had approached the "cupboard" and twisted one of the switches that were along the top. Then, he got down on one knee and pushed open a small cover that was built in to the "cupboard's" door. A startled cry escaped from the Italian pervert's mouth almost immediately, no doubt from him seeing Sebastian's ruby-like eyes suddenly staring in at him. A vibrant mixture of red, orange, and yellow light started to glow intensely through the cover, gleaming against my brother's pale features, and I could already smell the burning embers beginning to float inside the cramped space.

Sebastian stared through the narrow opening with false compassion. "What an impatient guest we have. You couldn't even restrain yourself until dessert was out of the oven?"

Flames began to crackle and the heat started to increase.

"The— the oven?!" Mr. Damiano blurted out, beyond horrified. He started to pound as hard as he could against the sturdy doors, but my brother had already secured them shut with the latch. "Open up! Please, open the door!"

Sebastian became completely apathetic, no longer possessing any false concern or sympathy on his face. He rose back up onto his feet, ignoring the desperate pleads of our guest, and he staged a puzzled expression with a gloved hand now resting on his chin.

"Hmm. Perhaps the Italians aren't familiar with our customs. There's Plum Pudding, Mincemeat pie." Sebastian's confusion shifted over to a cruel smirk. "There are many traditional desserts here in England that make use of meat. I find them all quite tasty."

After that, with Mr. Damiano whimpering and staring helplessly through the small opening of the oven's door, the butler slid the cover shut again. Then, he glanced over in my direction and gave a small nod to let me know that it was time for me to finish the game.

My face was blank and my mind was swarming with all of the inexcusable things that Mr. Damiano had done this evening. The lying, the insults, the scamming, the harassment—all of it made my blood feel hotter than molten magma. So, with all of those thoughts lingering through my head, I venomously narrowed my eyes on the oven and allowed the anger take control.

For the last time, my voice was replaced with a perfect mimic of Master Ciel's accent as I spoke.

"'Your body is burnt by raging flames.'"

"AGHHHHHHHH!" Mr. Damiano screamed louder than ever before, sounding like an agonized banshee as I wielded for the flames to grow hotter with every passing second.

Sebastian rolled his crimson orbs in a careless manner towards the denim-eyed conman, proceeding to walk over to the island like this was any other day. A silver tray was in the process of getting prepared, sitting beside a spared Lemon Meringue Pie.

"Hmph. Make sure that you don't kill him now." Sebastian remarked, picking up a nearby knife and using it to begin slicing the pie. "We'll want him to remember this day for the rest of his life and not be fortunate enough to die on it."

I turned my head to look at him, completely ignoring Mr. Damiano as he continued to shriek from inside the burning oven.

"How did you know about the game?" I asked in a serious tone. "You weren't present at all when the Puny Lord was playing 'Road to Ruins' with his guest. Only I was."

Sebastian placed a piece of pie down on a plate. "True, but the Young Master just so happened to mention it to me when I was escorting him down to dinner."

"And I assume that also means that you somehow found out about Mr. Damiano's plan to rob an additional twelve thousand pounds from Bocchan?" I inquired.

"Of course. I have my ways of getting to the bottom of things like you have yours. Now, let me ask you a question."

Sebastian glanced over at me, also paying no attention to the Italian conman's hysterical shouting and pounding. As he did this, he sat a second piece of pie down on another plate and his face grew a little hard.

"Just how long exactly were you planning to keep it a secret that Mr. Damiano abused you?"

For the briefest moment, I faltered. Then, as multiple parts from earlier's uncomfortable scenario began to flash through my mind in random patterns, I curled my hands into tight fists and began to grit my teeth a little in displeasure. The butler, of course, paid close attention to my reaction and didn't allow it to faze him.

I turned my head away for a couple of seconds, grumbling some curse words under my breath. Afterwards, I forced myself to glance back at Sebastian with a sharper look in my maroon orbs.

"How in the hell did you find out about that?" I asked somewhat defensively.

"Well, as soon as I saw those red marks on your face, I had my suspicions." Sebastian explained, in which he placed both of the plates neatly on the silver tray before turning himself fully in my direction. "However, when you scurried off to handle some vaguely detailed business after I finished serving the Young Master his tea, I just so happened to hear from Baldroy and Finny about earlier's incident. They informed me on what they saw and, to be quite frank, I wasn't pleased with any of it. Now, would you care to explain why you refused to tell anyone?"

At the mention of the chef and the gardener, my face softened a little. However, at the butler's final sentence, I couldn't help but pinch the bridge of my nose and lightly shake my head in annoyance.

"Fine! If you really must know..." I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest, making eye contact with my brother again. "Mr. Damiano had convinced me that he hadn't sold the East India Factory yet and he told me that if I didn't agree to have a one-night stand with him, he was going to sell it. Then, he warned me that if I tried telling anybody about our conversation, he would hire somebody to track me down and break my neck overnight ... but that's not what kept me silent. I stayed silent because he also said that he wouldn't hesitate to sell the factory if I even thought about trying to report him. Of course, all of this was before I found out that he had already sold off the factory and was only trying to trick me into becoming one of his own little sex toys for his own entertainment."

Sebastian stared at me in disbelief. "So, you were planning to sleep with him?!"

I clenched my eyes shut, dropped my head, and threw my arms back down at my sides. Then, almost out of nowhere, I felt what was like a mixture of anger, grief, seriousness, and whatever else shoot through each of my veins like a fiery bolt of electricity.

"I was planning to do whatever I had to do in order to prevent the Small Lord from struggling with any inconvenience!" I exclaimed, not even fully understanding what was going on to cause such a strong reaction. "I was just trying to do my job as the Phantomhive nanny! Now, how about you tell me what's so damn wrong about that?!"

Suddenly, just as the butler opened his mouth to say something back, there was a much louder whoosh sound. It caught his attention in less than a second, making his eyes widen. At the exact same time, the Italian pervert let out another agonizing scream that was even louder than the first scream that he let out as soon as he realized he was locked in the oven.

"AGGGHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Elise!" Sebastian proclaimed not even a moment later, sounding fully authoritative. "Settle down before you actually do kill him!"

The abrupt commotion caught me off guard. As soon as I heard it, I snapped my head back up at the speed of lightning and popped my wine-colored orbs back open. Then, as I followed the butler's alert gaze, my eyes almost looked two times their normal size when I realized that the brightness of the orange, red, and yellow flames could now be seen shining immensely around the edges of the closed cover that was built in to the oven's door. That meant that the fire inside had intensified to the point where it would only take a minute or two before Mr. Damiano—being the mere mortal that he was—would no longer be able to take it.

"Oh, shit!" I cursed, maintaining my focus on the flames once again. "Not again!"

It took a couple of seconds, but the blaze eventually defused back down to its prior state. Sebastian and I kept our wide eyes on the oven, not saying a word ... but as soon as we heard the sound of Mr. Damiano starting to sob, the tension left our bodies like it was never there. We exhaled, relieved to know that we wouldn't have to tell Master Ciel that we had unintentionally murdered his guest.

Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose, almost seeming disappointed. I, on the other hand, immediately walked over to the sink, removed both of my gloves, and turned both of the handles.

"I swear, Elise ... how many times do I have to tell you that you need to be careful with stuff like that?" Sebastian asked.

I cuffed my pale hands under the faucet, sighing heavily as I began to splash cold water against my face.

"You can stop telling me at anytime. I'm already well-aware." I answered with only a little bit of sass, right before I switched over to talking about the incident with the oven. "That was unintentional."

"I know. Almost all of these similar situations are unintentional with you." Sebastian stated, narrowing his eyes at me a little. "I'm just trying to tell you that if you don't watch yourself, the Young Master is bound to find out that you're—"

With water dripping down my face, I raised my eyebrows and glanced over my shoulder at the butler. Then, I cut him off with a single word.

"Deformed?"

Sebastian huffed before answering. "I was actually going to use the word 'different,' but now that you've mentioned it ... yes. Deformed."

I twisted the handles, ceasing the water in the sink as I felt a faint numbness begin to form in my chest from the mental picture of Bocchan discovering that secret of mine. After that, I shook my head a little to myself to snap out of it, picked up a nearby rag, and began to use it to dab away the droplets of water from my face.

"We've made it two years without him realizing anything, Sebastian." I pointed out.

"Yes, but that doesn't make it any less possible that he could find out if you're not careful." Sebastian remarked. "You know how curious the Young Lord is. If he notices something different about you, he certainly is going to ask questions ... and, as stated by the rules of our contract, we will have to answer them with complete honesty."

I pursed my lips and hesitated for a moment, knowing that he was right. However, that didn't change how I simply didn't want to get the Puny Master involved in the complications that came with being associated with something that was known as a "deformed" creature. I never wanted him to find out ... along with a variety of other things.

"Well ... I guess that means that we better make sure that we keep doing what we're doing in order to prevent him from ever finding out." I settled, in which I placed the rag back down in its original spot and retrieved my gloves. "Now, what was I saying before? ... Oh, yes. What was so wrong with me making sure that I was protecting the Small Lord' reputation?"

Sebastian gave me a look, making it obvious that he believed that I already knew the answer to that question. Nonetheless, he ended up saying something that I wasn't expecting.

"I believe that you can continue that conversation with him. He wishes to see you in the Drawing Room."

My eyes automatically widened. "What?! You mean, you told him?!"

"Of course I did. What Mr. Damiano was doing was highly intolerable. He harassed you, he lied about selling the East India Factory, and was planning to scam more money for his own purposes. I wasn't going to allow the Young Master to be left in the dark about his behavior. You know that you would've done the same thing if it were somebody else in your position."

I grumbled a little under my breath and allowed my head to fall back in exasperation. Once again, I knew that the butler was right ... and it was starting to get annoying.

"Now, I have these two slices of pie here prepared for Baldroy and Finny." Sebastian said as he gestured to the silver tray. "By this time, they should be readying the furnace for the evening in the backyard. If you want, you can come with me to see them before you go see the Young Master."

I exhaled, thinking back to how my brother had brought up how the chef and the gardener had told him about what Mr. Damiano had done to me. I might've instructed them not to speak about it, claiming that it wasn't necessary to concern over, but ... now that the Italian conman had been dealt with and his secrets had been exposed, there was a piece of me that actually felt glad to know that Finny and Bard cared enough to still tell somebody. With that being said, I definitely wanted to see the two of them.

"Yeah, I think that sounds like a good idea. Just give me a moment to prepare some tea to go with the pie."

Sebastian nodded. "Very well."

Just then, as I opened one of the cupboards and retrieved a dazzling white china set that had miraculously survived Mey-Rin's accident hours before, Mr. Damiano started to pound on the doors of the oven again. Over the sound of the flames crackling, he was letting out noises that sounded like mixtures of weeping, coughing, hollering, and screaming.

"Please! Open up! Let me out of here! Help me!"

I raised an eyebrow in the direction of the oven, unfazed by his begging, and flicked my direction over to Sebastian.

"What should we do about him?" I inquired.

Sebastian nonchalantly placed mint leaves next to both pieces of pie while answering. "He can stay in there a little longer. He found the time to harass you and to construct a detailed plan to steal from the Young Master, right? He can stay in there for a couple of more minutes. Ten-to-fifteen, at the most."

With that, I casually continued to ignore all of the noises that were coming from the oven and proceeded to prepare the tea.

A/N: Bookmark #6

After finishing the tea, I placed the china set neatly down on the silver tray and watched as Sebastian gracefully picked it up. We exited the kitchen at each other's sides, still refusing to acknowledge all of the horrified, desperate pleads and petty, sob-like sounds that were coming from our roasting guest. Along the way, I made sure to pull the door to the shut after our departure and I folded my gloved hands neatly in front of myself, as if there was nothing wrong with what just happened. Then, at last, Sebastian and I proceeded down the corridor with similar, satisfied grins masking our faces.

Upon stepping back outside, I couldn't resist drawing in a deep whiff of the evening air. It was still relaxing, despite how it was noticeably beginning to grow colder, and it was accompanied by the new scents of refreshing dewdrops and delicate roses. There was also the smell of wood being burned—coming from none other than the backyard's furnace—and it was actually very pleasant while being carried in the chilly breeze.

However, just as the butler and I started to ascend up a set of stone stairs, the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by yet another anguishing scream from Mr. Damiano.

"AGHHHHHHHH!"

It immediately caught Bard's attention, causing him to stop poking at the logs in the furnace in order to peer up towards the sky in confusion.

"What was that? Someone screamed."

"Don't know." Finny replied, sounding just as unsure from where he was leaning back against the wall.

Fortunately, in that very moment, Sebastian and I had finished making it up the stairs and we would be able to shift the attention our other two coworkers away from the loud shriek by revealing ourselves. We remained at each other's sides and continued to smile. Although, I could tell that Sebastian was more than likely only grinning because he was amused by the Italian conman's suffering. Of course, I was as well; but right now, my smile had become much more genuine from simply being in the presence of the chef and the gardener.

"Good evening, you two." I spoke up, drawing Finny and Baldroy's attention over to me and my brother.

A cheerful smile instantly swept across Finny's face. "Oh! Hi, Sebastian! Hi, Elise!"

"Thank you for your hard work today." Sebastian declared with a rare display of appreciation. "As a reward, how would you like some Lemon Meringue Pie? The sugar will give you energy."

At the sight of the two slices of dessert that were being presented to them, Bard and Finny completely froze. They stared in a mixture of confusion and surprise, probably because they were rarely offered any sweets whenever their was a guest over ... but then, as if they had never faltered, the chef and the gardener practically threw themselves over to my brother. They hugged his legs like they were little kids, almost squealing in excitement as they hastily expressed their gratitude on top of each other.

As if he was already on a sugar high, Finny proclaimed, "Sebastian! You're such a nice person! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

At the same time, Bard joyfully exclaimed, "Thank you so much, Sebastian! Thank you!"

I raised a hand up to my face and lightly pressed my fingertips against my lips, unable to resist releasing a couple of quiet, amused chuckles. Sebastian, on the other hand, dropped his smile and let out an exasperated sigh.

"I also took the liberty to prepare some Cinnamon Honey Tea for the two of you." I chipped in, looking down at the gardener and the chef as they continued to cling to the butler's legs. "I believe that the taste will mix very exquisitely with the Lemon Meringue Pie."

Once again, Bard and Finny became as still as statues. They stared back up at me in awe, as if I had just ascended from the clouds ... and shortly after that, they pounced over to me like a pair of excited kittens. I felt their arms wrap around my legs and nearly stumbled backwards when their combined weight nearly caught me by surprise. Luckily, I managed to regain my balance almost instantly and I began to snicker again, listening as chef and the gardener began exclaiming at the same time again.

"You're so very kind, Elise! Thank you so, so much! You're amazing!" Finny chirped.

"You're incredible! Thank you, Elise! Thank you very much! Thank you!" Bard trumpeted.

"Ahem!" Sebastian pretended to clear his throat, now wearing a serious scowl with disapproval flickering in his scarlet orbs. "In case the two of you aren't already aware, it isn't proper behavior for gentlemen to cling to the legs of a lady."

I gave my eyes a slight roll, knowing that the gardener and the chef meant no harm by their abrupt actions. Nonetheless, not even a split second after receiving Sebastian's comment, Bard and Finny yelped, sprang back up onto their feet, jumped back to create some distance, and stood at attention. Bard had a couple of nervous beads of sweat already beginning to form on his forehead, while Finny had a faint blush staining his cheeks.

"Now, now. At ease." I said as I took the tray from my brother and offered a new, charming smile. "I'm aware that neither of you meant any harm. Please, allow me to pour the tea."

As I said that final sentence, I carried the tray over to one of the three crates that were positioned near the furnace and placed it there. At the same time, Bard and Finny took a moment to stare at each other in surprise before they redirected their attention back over to me. Sebastian stayed silent, observing the scene.

"Oh, come now, Elise. You really don't have to do that." Bard remarked, unable to prevent a thankful grin from curling up on one of the corners of his lips. "We're all servants to the Young Master, remember?"

"Right!" Finny agreed, almost sounding like a small child that had just been told that Santa was getting him something extra special for Christmas. "Plus, you already made us another delicious breakfast this morning. You already did enough for us."

I lightly laughed, picking the teapot up. Then, as the evening breeze lightly caressed my face and I began to skillfully pour the first cup, I said, "Nonsense. I insist. Feel free to consider this as a token of my appreciation."

"A token of your appreciation?" Bard inquired, just as I finished pouring the first cup and began to pour the second. "What for?"

I could tell by the tone of his voice that he already had a hunch as to what my answer would be. Nonetheless, I pretended not to notice that and, after placing the teapot back down, turned back around in order to face the two other Phantomhive servants.

"Sebastian informed me that the two of you had told him about ... what you saw in the kitchen earlier between me and Mr. Damiano." I explained, knowing that the moonlight was reflecting in my wine-colored eyes as I spoke with genuine honesty. "Even though I made it seem like something not worth fussing over, you both listened to your own instincts and helped prevent the situation from escalating even further by telling somebody. It honors me very much to know that I was on your minds ... and please accept my apologies for not speaking the truth in the first place."

I finished everything off with a small bow of my head, waiting a couple of seconds before lifting it again.

"Oh, Elise..." Finny said as he placed a hand over his heart, definitely appearing to be moved by my words.

Bard, on the other hand, held up one of his hands and lightly shook his head at me.

"There's definitely no need for you to apologize. Your reaction to what happened was completely understandable." His vibrant eyes narrowed a little and became as hard as marbles as he continued to speak. "The way I see it, when a man puts his hands on a woman like that, he's no longer a man. I've seen far too many scenarios like that play out right in front of me at many different points in my life ... and when I went off to battle, I wasn't fighting to protect that sort of behavior. With that being said, I wasn't going to just step aside and let one of my comrades get subjected to it."

"Bard's right, Elise. When we saw you run off upstairs ... we just couldn't bear the thought of keeping what we had witnessed to ourselves anymore. We had to tell Sebastian." Finny declared, sounding just as sincere as he looked. "We've all been working together as the Young Master's servants for a long time now. No matter what happens, we need to be there for each other through the thick and thin! That's part of being coworkers, after all!"

Bard nodded his head, flashing a bold grin. "Exactly, that's right. We need to make sure that we have each other's backs at all times. Otherwise, who knows what'll happen to all of us in this manor?"

After listening to all of that, a slight look of surprise crossed over my porcelain features.

"Have each other's backs, huh?" I muttered under my breath, blinking in heavy thought. "I don't believe that I've ever heard of such a thing before..."

There was a brief moment of silence, filled with only the sounds of the breeze whistling calmly through the air and the fire crackling in the furnace. Nonetheless, it only took a couple of seconds before the stillness was shattered by the sound of the butler speaking up once again.

"Elise," he said with pure nonchalance, gaining my attention almost instantly, "remember, the Young Lord is waiting to speak with you in the Drawing Room. It's getting late, so I suggest that you go see him before the clock strikes his retirement hour."

"Ah, yes. That's right. I shouldn't keep him waiting for much longer."

After that, I began walking back towards the stone stairs; but along the way, I stopped back in front of the chef and the gardener in order to offer them one of my elegant smiles. Then, I planted a gentle kiss against both of their cheeks, chuckling a little afterwards from witnessing their faces automatically become redder than fresh raspberries.

"Once again, I thank you both very much." I concluded kindly.

In perfect unison, Finny and Bard stuttered out, "Y-you're welcome, Mistress Elise!"

"Enjoy your pie and tea now."

With that, Bard and Finny approached the other two crates and sat down on them, still blushing with somewhat shy and flattered glints shimmering in their eyes. At the same time, with Sebastian following me, I began to walk back down the stone steps. However, I didn't think twice about ceasing when I recalled something. My brother stopped not even a split second later, feeling me nudge him lightly in the arm. We exchanged silent glances and it didn't take long before the realization shot through the butler's eyes.

"Oh, yes. And, Bard, a workman will be coming by in the morning. When he arrives, kindly let him know we'll be needing our oven thoroughly cleaned." Sebastian instructed, looking back at the chef and the gardener again.

Finny and Bard immediately raised their heads, appearing to be confused and maybe even a little surprised.

"Huh? The oven?" Bard inquired with a piece of his pie already positioned on his fork.

I gave a nod, still showing off a polite smile. "Yes, but certainly don't stress yourself out over it. There was just a small mess that got out of hand when the dessert was being prepared. With that being said, please remember to follow Sebastian's order when tomorrow morning arrives."

"Oh, um ... of course. I'll tell the workman, no problem. Just leave it to me."

Sebastian and I only nodded at him in response. After that, the two of us began to stride back down the stone stairs in complete silence ... but not without peeking over at each other from the corner of our eyes and grinning ominously.

Before walking all the way back to the Drawing Room, I decided to stop by the kitchen one final time. Then, while Sebastian stayed back to take care of the dirty dishes, I retrieved another slice of pie and prepared a cup of Earl Grey tea. After that, I was on my way. The whole time, I was bracing myself since I knew exactly how my Little Lord felt when it came to secrets being kept from him. Nonetheless, as the Phantomhive nanny, I made sure to maintain a calm, nonchalant, and respectful exterior.

Within minutes, I had made it back to the correct room on the upstairs floor. While holding the piece of pie on a plate in my left hand, I perfectly balanced the saucer with the teacup on it on the back of my elbow and used my left hand to properly knock a couple of times. Then, I opened the door and entered. The first thing that I saw was Bocchan, now standing in front of one of the windows with his back in my direction and hands folded behind himself.

"Young Master? I was told that you had a request to see me." I said, making sure to close the door before I began to approach that small table that was still accompanied by the board game. "I made sure to bring you a slice of Lemon Meringue Pie since you haven't had any dessert yet. I also took the liberty to prepare a cup of Earl Grey tea for you since I recalled how that Italian tea from earlier wasn't to your liking."

I placed both of the saucers down in front of the chair that the Puny Master had previously been sitting in. Shortly after that, as I straightened myself back up and folded my hands neatly in front of myself once more, Master Ciel glanced over his shoulder. His sapphire eye was filled with authority, shimmering in the moonlight as he examined the pastry and teacup before flicking his attention back over to me.

"Take a seat."

I raised my eyebrows a little. "Are you certain, my Lord? Servants don't usually sit in the presence of their masters."

"Like I said a couple of hours ago, if I wasn't certain of something, I wouldn't bother saying it in the first place." Master Ciel declared, remaining serious. "Now, I believe that I just gave you an order."

"Yes, sir."

With that, I walked around the small table and seated myself on the edge of the plum-colored chair that Mr. Damiano had been sitting in before. My posture remained perfect, I kept my hands lying next to each other on my lap, and I watched the Small Master as he walked back over to his own chair. Then, after seating himself again, he picked up the tea, lightly waved it underneath his nose, and took a sip of it.

"How is it, Young Master?" I asked while properly crossing my left leg over my right one.

"It's adequate." Bocchan replied, right before he placed the teacup back down on its saucer and made eye contact with me. "However, I didn't have Sebastian inform you that I wanted to see you so we could discuss tea. On the contrary, I want to know why you didn't come to be sooner when you found out that Mr. Damiano was a conman—particularly one that couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself."

I exhaled quietly, trying to ignore the slight awkwardness that there was in having a conversation like this with a twelve-year-old.

"My Lord ... Mr. Damiano had convinced me beforehand that he hadn't sold off the East India Factory yet. He caught me off guard during the dessert preparations, claiming that he got lost in the corridors while searching for a bathroom. I didn't believe him, but I made him think that I did ... and, shortly after that, he started to put his hands on me." My face was blank, but my voice was serious as I described everything. "He became angry when I refused to accept his advances and he struck me in the face with a wooden spoon. After that, he proceeded to make a deal with me, claiming that in exchange for some ... physical favors, he wouldn't even think about selling the factory. If I told anyone, however, he assured me that he wouldn't hesitate to sell it and he would even hire somebody to kill me before morning. I didn't report to you because I was thinking of your reputation ... and, as your loyal nanny, I wanted to make sure that I followed your instructions. You told me and Sebastian that we had to show Mr. Damiano the best hospitality and courtesy, remember?"

The Puny Lord swallowed another sip of his tea before staring at me with full authority again.

"I'm going to tell a little you something about 'hospitality' and 'courtesy,' Elise ... I do expect my guests to receive them. From the moment that they step foot onto my property, to the very last second that they leave. However, there is a line that must never be crossed ... and when it is, the hospitality and courtesy ceases to exist. That 'line' is when the guest reveals themselves to be a threat or an enemy. Mr. Damiano was both."

I stared at him, listening closely to every word that was coming out of his mouth. At the same time, the Little Master placed the saucer with his tea back down on the table and replaced it with the plate that had his slice of Lemon Meringue Pie on it.

"You might be a servant, but those aren't the type of services that I expect you to participate in. After all, it's called harassment for a reason." Bocchan placed a small piece of his pie in his mouth, chewing and swallowing it before continuing. "You're here to be my nanny, not to be groped. With that being said, from here on out ... unless it is to your will, never allow somebody to put their hands on you like that again. If they do, make sure that you do whatever it takes to get them to learn their lesson and report it to me. Is that understood?"

Once again, I found myself being surprised—this time by an order that I had never heard before, even after centuries of living. I stayed silent for a moment, watching as the Little Lord placed another piece of pie in his mouth. Eventually, as he made eye contact with me again, I was able to bow my head in response.

"Yes, my Lord ... I understand perfectly." I said, waiting for a couple of seconds to go by before I lifted my head back up to look at him again. "Is that all that you wished to speak about with me?"

"Not quite." Master Ciel replied. He placed his piece of pie back down on the table, right before he folded his hands. "I've actually settled on a something recently, regarding you. I'm only doing it because Sebastian wears the pin that has been worn by every Phantomhive butler for generations ... and it just makes sense."

I tilted my head a little to the side in confusion. "My Lord?"

Just then, with his face showing no particular emotion, the Small Master reached into one of the pockets of his olive-green trousers and pulled out a dark blue, velvet box. He held it out to me, saying only one word.

"Here."

My magenta eyes widened a little in disbelief; but instead of saying anything right away, I decided to reach out and take the box from Bocchan in order to prevent him from having to wait. I held it carefully in the palm of my hand, as if it was made out of glass. Then, after seeing how the Little Earl was waiting for me to open it, I did ... and I felt my heart nearly jump all the way to the other side of the globe as soon as I saw what was inside—an oval, beveled, glass locket that hung from a thin, shiny, gold chain. I had seen this exact locket before...

"It's another heirloom that has been past down for many generations in my family." Bocchan explained while resting his head in his hand. "Every nanny who has served a Phantomhive has worn it. My grandfather's nanny wore it, my father's nanny wore it..."

Suddenly, the Small Master stopped speaking and a somewhat faraway look appeared in his eye. He pursed his lips for a couple of seconds and dropped his attention down to his rings, evidently recalling some moments from his past.

"And she wore it, Young Master?" I eventually asked after a moment of silence.

"...Yes. She wore it, too." Master Ciel replied, shortly before he lifted his empty gaze back up to me and went back to resting his head in his hand. "Nonetheless, none of that matters anymore. Now, you are the Phantomhive nanny ... and starting tomorrow, I expect you to wear that locket everyday. It's part of your uniform now."

I stared at the beautiful heirloom, watching as my reflection stared back at me in the vintage glass.

"My Lord, forgive me for asking, but ... are you positive of such a thing?" I asked as I made eye contact with him again. "I am nothing more than a humble servant. Do you truly wish for me to wear something that's so valuable to your family?"

"I do!" Bocchan answered, sounding almost exactly like he did on the day that he first encountered Sebastian and I. "Keeping it in that box forever is pointless! It won't bring any of them back! ... So, I've decided to make it yours until the day comes in which I've carried out my revenge. After that, you can do with it as you please ... but until then, wear it everyday with the rest of your uniform."

I gently closed the velvet box, right before I placed my other hand over my heart and bowed my head at the Small Earl.

"Of course, Young Master. Thank you. I appreciate it very much."

The Little Lord looked at me with utter seriousness again. "However! ... It's an order for you to never open the locket. You must wear it, but never open it. Do I make myself clear, Elise?"

I bowed my head once again. "Yes. Absolutely."

Suddenly, within seconds after that, I ended up detecting the sound of somebody frantically huffing. I could tell that Bocchan must've heard it as well, because we both didn't think twice before turning our heads in the direction of one of the windows. In the distance, there was the silhouette of a severely burned figure limping down one of the dirt paths that led away from the manor. They were crying to themselves, trying desperately to catch their breath and even managing to fall down to the ground a single time before scrambling back up. After that, they continued to wobble away into the darkness of the night. It was none other than Mr. Damiano.

"Well, would you look at that? Sebastian must've finally decided to let him go." I thought to myself as a satisfied smirk curled up on the corners of my lips. "Mr. Damiano ... I hope you enjoyed your stay, and the Phantomhive family hospitality, all the way down to your bones."

"Game. Over ... Mr. Damiano." I whispered to myself in a sinister tone, continuing to watch the hobbling man.

Shortly after that, the sound of the Italian conman wailing at the top of his lungs could be heard piercing through the air.

"¡MAMMA MIIIIAAAAA!"

A mere, cold smile appeared on Bocchan's face as he lightly laughed. "Humph, ha, ha, ha! What an unattractive scream. He sounds almost like a pig taken off to slaughter."

"Hmm. I don't believe that pigs deserve to be compared to a man like that, my Lord. That might as well be an insult to them."

The Little Master turned his head to face me again. "Humph, what presumption. First, he sells the East Indian Factory without telling me, and then he dares to ask for more money? Did he think to retain my trust?"

I straightened my lips, pausing for a moment before I raised my shoulders in an unsure manner.

"I'm afraid that I can't answer that, sir."

Master Ciel then lowered his attention back down to the board game, leaning forward in his chair in order to move his gargoyle-shaped piece. I watched, noticing as it landed on the final box that was decorated with the image of a bunch of joyful people. They were gathered together, taking turns with climbing into a carriage; and at the bottom, there were the words, "Happy End."

My wine-colored orbs showed no emotion. "'Happy End,' huh? For a creature like me, I highly doubt that such a thing like that exists. At least ... not anymore."

"...Master?" I said upon flicking my eyes back up to him.

He was staring at the "Happy End" box with a similar, distant look in his eye as before. There was another brief pause, right before the Small Earl used his finger to carelessly topple his game piece over. After that, he leaned back in his chair and continued to stare at the fallen gargoyle as he repeated the same words from way earlier.

"I'm afraid once something is truly lost, one can never get it back again."

I lowered my head, trailing my thumb along the edge of the velvet box as more unpleasant memories from my past flashed through my brain in messy patterns.

"I couldn't possibly agree with you more, Young Master..." I muttered under my breath. "There are so many things that I've been robbed of ... and I'll never be able to get them back from the monsters that took them..."

"Hm?" Bocchan suddenly lifted his head back up to me, blinking naturally. "Did you say something?"

"Oh! Yes, but it's nothing that's worth repeating, my Lord. There's certainly no need for you to worry about it." I assured, right before I rose back up to my feet and smiled convincingly. "Shall I take your dessert and tea to your bedroom for you to finish? Or would you rather continue eating it in here before the time comes for you to retire within the next hour?"

The Small Earl went back to looking out the window. "I'll continue eating it here. Just go assist Sebastian in cleaning everything up. The two of you can come back here to get me when it's time to prepare me for bed."

I placed my unoccupied hand over my heart and bowed myself slightly at the waist while preforming a curtsy.

"Yes, my Lord."

After that, I straightened myself back up, turned my back on the Small Lord, and departed from the Drawing Room. However, as soon as I stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind me, I couldn't help freeze for a moment as I stared down at the velvet box that contained the oval glass locket. My phony grin almost immediately vanished from my face, only to be replaced by an expression that gave it away that I was caught up in thinking about something. Eventually, I let out a quiet huff and I continued to pursue down the hall.

The whole manor was dead silent as I walked through the corridors, still caught up in thinking about the heirloom that the Puny Earl had gifted me with. Although, when I made it to the exact hallway where I had repeatedly stabbed the Italian pervert, I ended up jerking to a halt and snapping out of my thoughts when I noticed that one of the doors were now open. Not long after that, Sebastian emerged from the room. He pulled the door shut behind him, now holding the grisly apron that I had been wearing during my attack. In his other hand, he was holding the bloodied dart that I had wrapped up in the disposable pair of cooking gloves. I witnessed him slip it into the pocket of his tailcoat, right before he just so happened to turn his head in my direction and notice my presence.

"Ah, Elise. Finished your meeting with the Young Master so soon?"

"Yeah. The conversation that we had was rather straightforward and easy to conclude within just a couple of minutes." I replied as I approached my brother, watching him casually fold the bloody apron before hanging it over his arm. "Speaking of Bocchan, he told me that he wishes for the two of us to get a head start on cleaning everything up before it's time for us to get him ready for bed."

"Fortunately, I was already in the process of doing that ... but I must say, Elise, was it really necessary for you to bloody up two aprons in a day?" The butler sighed in exasperation and shook his head in the direction of the splattered garment. "Getting these stains out will be absolutely dreadful."

A slight smirk curled up on the corners of my lips. "I said it once and I'll say it again, Sebastian ... making a mess is part of the fun. Plus, activities like stabbing is just so ... exhilarating."

"That might be, but let's be sure to keep in mind that we're supposed to be sophisticated servants. Next time, when you are planning to stab someone, at least try to be cleaner with it. Besides, we already get enough messes to clean up in this mansion from those three other imbecile servants." Sebastian pointed out, rolling his eyes at the mention of Finny, Mey-Rin, and Bard. "Now ... what's that in your hand there?"

"Huh? Oh..."

Almost instantly, my faint smirk disappeared from my face like it was never there when I realized that my brother had noticed the velvet box in my hand. I looked down at it, knowing that my face was now completely bare.

"The Small Master gave me this to wear as part of my uniform from now on. It's another valuable heirloom of his—a locket that has been past down for many generations in his family."

"A locket, eh?" Sebastian questioned, raising one of his gloved hands up to his chin.

I nodded and decided to open the box to show the piece of jewelry to him. His ruby-like eyes automatically narrowed as he stared at his reflection in the glass, making it obvious that he was beginning to strongly think about something. His overall expression, however, was impressed. After all, creatures like us weren't at all influenced by money, jewels, or just about anything else that could be considered "valuable" in the eyes of a human.

"Hmm ... why do I get the feeling that we've seen this exact piece of jewelry somewhere before?" Sebastian asked while carefully dragging his attention over every last detail that was incorporated into the locket.

"Because we have..." I replied, also staring down at the locket with a somewhat far-away look beginning to form in my maroon orbs. "Don't you recall? It's in multiple photos around the manor ... being worn by Bocchan's previous nanny."

The butler's eyes flickered with realization. "Ah, yes. That's right. She's actually in plenty of pictures that relate to the Young Lord's past. I believe that her name was Rosemarie, correct?"

"Yes. Her full name, according to the Little Lord, was Rosemarie Jane Gallows. Although, she often went by just 'Rose.'"

"Hmm..." Sebastian kept his hand where it was on his chin, studying the locket for a couple of more seconds before he looked up at me again. "She disappeared shortly after the incident with the Young Lord's parents. I must say ... there's a tiny piece of me that can't seem to help but wonder if she perished with them."

"That's what the Small Master seems to believe. However, nobody truly knows what happened to her. As you said ... she just vanished out of thin air." I concluded, shortly before I closed the velvet box once more and made eye contact with my brother. "Now, we should continue tidying everything up before it's time for us to put Bocchan to bed. Where should we start?"

Sebastian raised his eyebrows at me. "I suggest that we begin by cleaning up the bodies of those trespassers that you took care of this morning. Otherwise, they'll start decaying and filling the air with a revolting smell. We can't risk allowing that to happen, especially with Bard, Finny, Mey-Rin, and Tanaka around."

"Very well then." I agreed, despite how a piece of me almost forgot all about the assassins since I had been dealing with Mr. Damiano all day. "Let's go."

With that, the butler gave a faint nod of approval and the two of us pursued down the dim corridor. Neither of us said another word as we moved through the silent manor, remaining at each other's sides as we headed all the way back to the Great Room. Then, just as we started to descend down the first set of stairs, I ended up freezing in my tracks when I noticed Sebastian stop in order to turn his head to look up at the wall. At first, I cocked an eyebrow at him in confusion; but then, just as I was about to ask him what he was doing, I ended up silencing myself when I followed his gaze and noticed what had grabbed his attention.

The part of the wall that we were looking at was where the portrait of the Little Lord's parents used to be. However, with it now gone, the wallpaper that had been beneath it was now revealed to be much more discolored and unpleasant compared to the rest of the wallpaper that filled the Great Room.

As soon as my wine-colored eyes landed on the part of the wall that was no longer occupied by the portrait, the emptiness in my expression increased. At the same time, I began to develop that familiar numbness in my chest that I had always felt whenever I had locked my attention on that portrait. Except, this time, the numbness was stronger ... and the slight heaviness that came after it was also a little more overpowering. Finally, there was that tight knot that formed in my clavicle, still perfectly resembling a pebble that had abruptly formed beneath my skin.

I clenched my eyes shut for a couple of seconds before opening them again, as if that would somehow bring the portrait back. I still couldn't tell what all of these odd sensations inside of me were, but ... I could feel them completely engulfing me. They were much thicker than they were this morning ... and not to mention accompanied by something else that I also couldn't quite put my finger on. Whatever it was, it made my body feel like I was miles and miles away from anybody else.

Sebastian, on the other hand, showed no reaction to Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive's portrait being gone. Instead, he appeared to be more focused on the aging wallpaper, narrowing his scarlet orbs in displeasure.

"It would appear we'll be needing to hang new wallpaper as well." Sebastian commented, right before he turned his head to look at me—more than likely to hear what I had to say about the wallpaper.

"Yes, indeed. This morning, I just so happened to notice how uninviting and faded it all has become over time." I said without taking my eyes off the area of the wall that used to be occupied by the portrait. "Perhaps, we can ask the Puny Master what particular color and style he prefers when we're getting him ready for bed."

My brother only nodded in agreement and continued to walk down the stairs. I, however, remained where I was standing for a couple of extra seconds, just staring at the large, murky spot that had been left behind in the place of the portrait. Then, just as Sebastian finished making it down to the platform, I didn't think twice before trotting after him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He immediately stopped and turned to look at me again.

"Actually, Sebastian, now that I'm taking the time to think it through ... how about you go outside and get a head start on handling all of those corpses while I wash the blood stains out of this apron?" I suggested, not even waiting to receive a response from the butler before I reached my unoccupied hand out and took the grisly garment from him. "That way, we'll be killing two birds with one stone. This isn't the first time where I've had to handle stains like this, so it shouldn't take me long at all. After I'm finished, I'll probably go ahead and take a piece of Lemon Meringue Pie up to Mey-Rin. Then, I'll join you outside to assist in getting rid of the bodies of those trespassers."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at me. "You want to give a piece of pie to Mey-Rin? After the mess that she caused at dinner with the wine?"

"She doesn't deserve to go hungry all because of a mistake, Sebastian." I retorted, rolling my eyes slightly since I couldn't help but wonder why that particular part stood out to him. "Besides, we managed to handle the rest of dinner just fine and she was able to get the sweeping done without causing anymore havoc."

The butler hesitated, but then sighed heavily. "Okay, fine. If you truly feel that you must do those two particular tasks first, then go ahead. However, I'll still be waiting for you outside and I'm expecting you to be out there in no more than fifteen minutes."

"There's no need to put a timer on me, Sebastian. I'll catch up with you before you know it. Just go on."

After a couple of extra seconds, Sebastian agreed to go. He turned his back in my direction and continued to walk down the elegant staircase. However, when he made it down to the ground floor, he ended up ceasing in his tracks once more. He didn't look back, but I didn't need to see his face to know that an amused smirk had suddenly spread across his lips.

"The new head of the Phantomhive estate. Hah."

I could tell that he was referring to what the Small Earl had said many hours previously, back when he declared himself as the new head of the Phantomhive title.

After that, the butler glanced back over his shoulder and made eye contact with me for another moment. Then, he finally decided to leave the room through one of the east doorways.

As soon as I was able to confirm that I was now alone, I slowly exhaled through my nose and I looked back down at the velvet box that I was still holding in one of my gloved hands. My face remained blank, even with the strange heaviness and numbness continuing to spiral inside of me. Eventually, after what felt like a century of being lost in thought, I lifted my head back up and pursued down the next staircase.

However, almost immediately after I made it all the way down to the ground floor ... I ended up sensing something. It was a moment from the past, causing me to freeze and almost become as stiff as a statue. I had an incredibly vivid and detailed imagination, which made it very simple for me to construct scenes from the past as they were being described. Despite how I was never told about this specific one, I could still sense it.

The entire Great Room was filled with much more vibrant colors and warmth from the sunlight as it poured in through the windows. There was a large, circular, red rug with gold trimming lying in the direct center of the room ... and on it, there was a much younger version of the Little Lord. He was no more than five, sitting on his knees and joyfully giggling with a variety of toys that were shaped like soldiers and horses spilled out around him. He had two of them in his hands, moving them around and pretending that they were having a conversation.

Across from the Puny Master, there was a woman that was also resting herself on her knees. She had a curvy figure that was similar to mine, as well as skin that was as pale as the petals of a lily and almond-shaped eyes that were the color of two plums. Not only that, but she also possessed long, shiny, auburn hair that was scrunched up in a bunch of tight ringlets and a small beauty mark that was right beside the left side of her nose. Then, there was her attire: a simple, modest, short-sleeved, salmon-colored dress that was decorated with white embroidery, matching buttons, and a single bow that was wrapped around her waist. Plus, she had white gloves on her hands, a crown of daises placed atop her head, a pair of white high heels on her feet, and ... the glass, oval-shaped locket was hanging perfectly around her neck.

"Neeiighh! Neeiighh!" She was obviously imitating the sound of a horse, courtesy of how she was holding one of the horse-shaped toys and waving it around in front of the Little Lord.

His pure, sapphire eyes shimmered like shooting stars as he watched her. Then, through his cheerful giggles, he said, "Can one of my soldiers have a ride on your horsie, Rose?"

"Of course, Ciel!" The woman—Rosemarie—replied, flashing a delighted smile at the Small Master. "It makes me very happy to know that you enjoy playing with these new toys so much. I'm glad that I was able to purchase them for you, darling!"

"Teehee! I really appreciate it! I love them! Just like I love you, Rose!" declared the Puny Lord, shortly before he and the old nanny turned their heads to look elsewhere. "Mama! Papa!"

"The two of you are more than welcome to join us!" Rosemarie chirped. "There's enough soldiers and horses for everyone!"

In a nearby love seat, Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive were sitting together with a large dog happily curled up at their feet. The two of them were observing the old nanny and their child, smiling and lightly laughing at Rosemarie's comment.

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath through my nose, holding it in for a couple of seconds before I let it out through my mouth. After that, to help myself ignore anything else that could possibly be involved in that moment from the past, I snapped my fingers together. A click automatically rang through the room and when I opened my eyes once more, I saw that the Great Room was back to being dark and empty.

"I'm sorry, Young Master ... but I'm afraid that there's plenty of things about me that I can't ever allow you to know." I said to myself in a whisper, in which I lowered my attention back down to the velvet box and delicately trailed my fingertips across it. "There are secrets that I have that even Sebastian doesn't know ... and I can't allow such things to be revealed to you. No matter what happens ... I can't let you find out that I'm deformed. Not only that, but I can't allow you to discover the truth about Rosemarie ... and I most certainly cannot—"

I cut myself off, pressing my lips together. Then, after a moment, I let out a huff and glanced over my shoulder in order to look up at the part of the wall that was no longer occupied by the portrait of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive.

"And I most certainly cannot ... let you find out that I'm the one that took the lives of your parents."

As soon as that final sentence left my mouth, a sharp breeze shot through the Great Room—just like the ones that had when I was tormenting Mr. Damiano. It sent a shiver through my bones and I almost shuttered as I closed my fingers tightly over the velvet box that contained the glass locket.

"Well ... today certainly has been one hell of a day." I muttered.

After that, while forcing myself to ignore everything that had just happened, I straightened myself back up and headed in the direction of the Laundry Room.

The Great Room was completely empty once again.

Trailer:

Elise: "The Small Lord is referred to as plenty of different things, but he is mostly known by one particular title among society. Isn't that right, Sebastian?"

Sebastian: "Indeed. Our Young Master, Ciel, has another name. He's also known as the Queen's Guard Dog for his own in policing England's seedy underground. His small body houses great determination. You will marvel at the bravery he displays when dealing with the drug traffic in the ring."

Elise: "No matter who you are, don't ever allow yourself to be fooled by his age. Despite how the Puny Earl is only twelve, he holds a remarkable amount of wisdom and he is perfectly capable of handling these types of situations. Of course ... he does have the two of us and, if I may say, we are rather important in times such as this one."

Sebastian: "Yes. With that being said, feel free to admire mine and Elise's notable skills with the silver upon which we stake our honor as a Phantomhive butler and nanny. Next time on Black Butler, 'His Butler & Nanny, Strongest.' You see, I am simply one hell of a butler."

Elise: "And I am simply one devil of a nanny. Until next time~!"

A/N: And there we go, everybody! We have finally made it to the end of the first official episode of the series! :D

How was that for a twist? *Smug grin* There's still plenty about Elise that is yet to be revealed, however!

Another Quick Message: I'm terrible at preventing myself from going over my page limits. XD With that being said, from here on out, my new goal is to never go over 50,000 words per chapter. I highly doubt that we'll ever get to that point, but this chapter is a little over 43,000 words. Also, please don't complain about the lengths of my chapters. As I stated in the prior "Quick Message," I enjoy writing long works and I want to give you all something that's worth the wait to read. My lengthy chapters are exactly why I'm starting to include 'Bookmarks.' With them, I'm sure that you will all have an easier time with accepting the fact that my chapters are long. XD

Also: I'm currently reaching the end of my first semester in my second year of college. So, I'm going to be handling plenty of final assignments and will need more time to fully construct my chapters before beginning to actually write them. I don't wish to rush my stories at anytime, so please understand that I have other responsibilities to handle at the side of this.

Once again, let's keep in mind that writing genuinely takes time and I have other responsibilities to juggle. With that being said, chapters will take time to plan out and fully put together. Updates will be as frequent as I can possibly make them, but please don't demand any updates and please don't try rushing me. Otherwise, I'll become stressed and will need to take time away from the computer.

I usually take 1-2 weeks off between every chapter before writing again as well, considering this will provide me with time to relax myself, plan the next chapter, and give my brain a chance to recharge. I hope you all understand. :)

Remember, I love feedback and I appreciate it very much! Feel free to share your opinions in the reviews or you can PM them to me at anytime! I look forward to seeing everyone's reactions all the time! :) :)

Anyway, I believe that I've stated everything that I wanted to.

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving! Enjoy your time with your family, friends, and favorite foods!

You've been one hell of an audience. ;)

Until the next update, everyone!

Crystalteen, out!

:D :D :) :)