It happened on Christmas morning of 1886. That was day everything changed for me. For better or worse, I still do not know. Perhaps I may never know. To be honest, I stopped caring long ago. But that is a story for another day. As I said, this story begins on Christmas morning of 1886, the day I met them. The day my fate became intertwined with that of Ciel Phantomhive and his black butler…
"And where do you think you're going at this hour?" Bo's boss sneered, his Cockney accent thick. She had grown used to it by now; everyone she knew had it, including herself. Mr. Brown looked down at her through his beady brown eyes and smiled. Bo fought the urge to gag at his wretched breath and yellow teeth. "A lady like you shouldn't be out alone this late, poppet. Why don't you spend the night here? I have an extra cot you could use upstairs."
I'm no lady, Bo wanted hiss. Mr. Brown was the single most perverted, disgusting, idiotic man she had ever met. Normally, his vile comments were kept in check by the presence of his wife, but Mrs. Brown had been out on a trip to the country to visit her mother and it seemed the depraved brute was growing bold. If Bo had wanted to, she could have punched that dirty old man in his fat stomach and told him right where he could shove his cot.
Unfortunately, Bo needed money, and miserly Mr. Brown had plenty of it. So instead, she batted her lashes at the old pervert and said in the sweetest voice she could manage, "Why thank you, Mr. Brown, but my poor mother would be worried sick if I didn't come home tonight." This of course, was a lie. Bo's parents had been dead for over ten years now, but Mr. Brown didn't need to know that. All Bo needed to do was convince him that someone was waiting for her at home, and that if she didn't show, there would be trouble. "Besides, it's Christmas Eve. I should spend it with my family."
Bo moved to walk past him, but he wrapped one fat hand around her wrist. Bo tried to pull away, but his grip was tight despite his disgustingly sweaty palms. "Come now, poppet," he said in what Bo supposed was an attempt at a seductive voice. "It's freezing out. Stay here with me and keep warm."
Bo thanked him quickly but denied the offer once more. This time, however, when she tried to pull away, he pulled her towards himself so that she was pressed against his fat belly. Bo suppressed the urge to vomit at the stench of alcohol and cigars which stuck to his clothes. "Now, now," said Mr. Brown. "I don't think that's any way to speak to your boss." Bo fought back a scream as the pervert brought his lips closer to her own. "Why don't you try that again?"
Damn the money, Bo thought as she brought up her knee to his groin. Once again, she was thankful for her small size. Bo doubted a normal-sized woman her age would have been able to knee the short, potbellied man. Most people would consider it a disadvantage, but she found it useful in more ways than one. As Mr. Brown cursed and released her to grab his genitals in pain, Bo rushed out the door.
The old pervert had been right about one thing: It was freezing. Bo made her way through the darkened streets of London as quickly as possible without slipping on the icy roads. Snow fell around her like a white curtain, dotting her black hair with flakes of pure white. Bo rubbed her arms together as she walked, cursing herself for forgetting her coat in the rush. It was the only one Bo had, and now that she had just kneed her boss in the groin, Bo had no idea when she'd have the money to buy a new one.
Mr. Brown's drunken yells echoed throughout the city as he chased her down the street. For the moment, Bo had the advantage, but if she didn't get out of the cold, she risked collapsing. Bo cursed herself once more for not eating anything. She was meant to be paid that day and had been hoping to have her own small feast for Christmas, so she had been saving up as much as she could.
Bo hurried into a small alleyway and leaned against the wall. As she caught her breath, she counted the chimes from Big Ben's clock. When the twelfth chime sounded, Bo laughed bitterly. She reached for the simple locket around her neck and opened it up. "Happy Christmas," Bo breathed as she smiled down at the picture of her parents. "I miss you guys."
Suddenly, she was knocked to the ground. "Now I've got you," exclaimed Mr. Brown wildly. Bo tried to scream, but he placed a now icy hand over her mouth, silencing her. She watched, green eyes wide with horror as he straddled her, his weight nearly crushing her. Bo tried to struggle against him, but she was weak from hunger and cold. Is this it? Bo wondered as her eyelids began to feel heavy.
Is this how it ends? She looked up at the sky. If Bo was going to die like this, then she would make damn sure that the last thing she saw was emnot/em some sweaty, potbellied, old man with beady eyes and balding brown hair. As Bo stared up at the stars, she noticed a raven flying above us. She followed the bird until it flew behind Mr. Brown. For a moment, Bo thought she was imagining the young boy with dark hair and the man behind him. Even so, Bo lifted her hand weakly. The last thought that passed through Bo's mind before she blacked out was, help me.
When Bo woke up, she was in a bed. This surprised her greatly due to the fact that she hadn't slept in an actual bed in almost a decade. Bo sat up quickly and looked about the room. The beige walls were bare and there was no other furniture besides a large wardrobe. Even so, it was far more lavish than some of her previous living quarters.
"Ahh, so you're finally awake." The most surprising thing was the man's accent. It was proper, nothing like the Cockney accents Bo had grown so accustomed to. She turned to look at the man beside her. He was well dressed, even for a butler, which she assumed he was from his clothing. He had black hair and striking red eyes which were filled with amusement. "The young master and I were beginning to wonder if you had slipped into a coma."
Bo glared at the man. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded. Not the most polite greeting, she knew, but Bo had grown wary of strangers over the past few years, especially ones who seemed kind. "Where am I?" Bo tried to stand, but a wave of vertigo immediately forced her to lie back down with a groan.
"You shouldn't push yourself," he said sternly. "Now, if you wouldn't mind telling me your name?" The man raised an eyebrow.
Bo ignored the question and asked one of her own instead. "How long have I been out?"
"You've been unconscious for a few hours now. May I have your name?"
Once more, she pretended he hadn't asked her anything. "Have you been watching me sleep this whole time?"
The butler's burgundy eyes narrowed in frustration. "My master ordered to keep an eye on you until you awakened," he answered curtly. "Now tell me your name." His voice was commanding this time, and Bo knew he wouldn't let up until she told him.
"Isabo," she answered warily. "My name is Isabo Stuart."
He nodded and stood from his seat. "I must go. The young master asked me to inform him when you awoke."
"Wait," Bo called after him. "You haven't told me who you are. Or who your master is," she added. Despite her reservations, Bo was extremely curious to know who her savior was.
The butler smiled mischievously. "My name," he began with a low bow, "is Sebastian Michaelis. I am the head butler for the Earl Ciel Phantomhive. Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to my young lord before he grows impatient." With that, Sebastian turned to leave. As he stepped out the door, he paused as if remembering something important. "Oh, and Happy Christmas, Miss Stuart."
Bo was stunned. Sebastian smirked at hr in amusement. It was obvious he was waiting for a reply, but the ridiculousness of the statement in comparison to everything else had shocked Bo into silence. After a moment, she collected herself and offered a small smile at the butler. "Happy Christmas, Mr. Michaelis."
After what seemed like an eternity, a maid entered the room sheepishly holding a large bundle of clothes. She wore a pair of cracked glasses and her face seemed to be the same shade of red as her hair. "Oh, hello dearie," she said. Bo immediately relaxed at the sound of the redhead's accent. It reminded Bo of her own home and made her feel more comfortable in the huge manor. "The master has asked me to make you presentable for an audience with him."
Bo looked down at her own torn clothing. As if her outfit hadn't been ragged enough already, the struggle from last night – or rather, earlier that morning – had left Bo in what looked like a few tattered strips of cloth. She blushed at the thought of Sebastian seeing her in such a state. Well, that's rather embarrassing.
"Are you alright, luv?" the maid asked, breaking Bo's train of thought. "You seem a bit flushed. If you like, I can tell the young master you still aren't feeling well."
Bo shook her head furiously. "Oh, no that's alright," she answered quickly. "I'm still just surprised by this place. It's all a bit posh, innit?"
The redhead laughed and gave her a knowing smile. "That's what I said when I first got 'ere! Just wait till you see the rest of the manor." Bo smiled at the maid's kindness. "I'm Mey-Rin, by the way." She extended a hand to Bo.
Bo took her hand and shook it firmly. "Pleasure to meet you," she replied. "I'm Isabo, but most people call me Bo."
Mey-Rin smiled and began laying dresses down on the bed. "Now then," she said. "Let's get you dressed. Is there anything you prefer?"
Bo looked at the dresses in amazement. There were at least half a dozen, each finely adorned with lace and flowers. Each was more beautiful than the last, and Bo was certain that a single one cost more than what she could make in a year. She had no idea where to begin.
She smiled up at Mey-Rin. "You can dress me in whatever you think looks best. Just one condition," Bo added, holding up a finger for emphasis. Her expression was stern, but her green eyes held a mischievous sparkle. "I don't do pink."
Mey-Rin nodded solemnly and immediately began helping Bo dress. After a while, they eventually decided on a lovely dark green dress with black lace for the trim. It matched Bo's jade eyes perfectly and made them pop against her ivory skin and black hair. Bo admired herself in the mirror as Mey-Rin squealed over how lovely Bo looked. I look like a right proper lady in this…
Even so, something was missing. Bo's eyes roamed up and down her image in the mirror as she tried to spot what was wrong. Suddenly, Bo's hands flew up to her neck. "My locket!" she exclaimed in panic. "It's gone!" Bo turned to Mey-Rin. "When I arrived here, did you happen to see if I was wearing a gold locket around my neck?"
Mey-Rin shook her head sadly. "Sorry, dear," she apologized. "Sebastian and the young master were the only ones who saw you. We were only informed about your arrival. You'd have to ask them about it."
Bo nodded, but before she could say anything else, someone knocked on the door. "Miss Stuart?" Sebastian's voice called through the door. "The master is ready to see you now." Slowly, Bo made her way to the door and opened it for the butler. Sebastian looked Bo up and down but said nothing as to her appearance. "Come along. The young master doesn't like to be kept waiting." She waved goodbye to Mey-Rin before following Sebastian down a long hallway.
"Mr. Michaelis?" Bo asked tentatively. "When you brought me here, do you remember seeing a locket with me?"
He seemed to ponder this for a moment. "A locket?" he echoed and shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I'll see if the young master will allow us to go looking for it later." Bo nodded and thanked him. That locket was the only thing she had left of her parents, and Bo refused to let it go so easily.
The rest of the walk was silent and uneventful. When they entered the study, a young boy of about eleven was sitting at the large oak desk. He had an eyepatch over his right eye, and his expression was serious. So this is the young master, Earl Ciel Phantomhive. She nodded to the boy and offered him a curtsy.
"Hello, my lord," Bo said in the kindest voice she could manage.
"You are Isabo Stuart?" he asked without further greeting.
"Yes, my lord." She nodded. "I'd like to thank you for saving my life."
He waved away Bo's words. "Please don't. We have much to discuss, and I'd rather not waste my time on pleasantries." Bo was surprised by his response, and yet part of her rather liked his directness. It was quite refreshing in a world filled with niceties and mindless chatter. "Now, about your contract –"
"My contract?" Bo blurted in shock.
Ciel raised an eyebrow and Sebastian, who had moved to stand behind him at some point during the conversation, smirked in amusement. "Why, yes," replied Ciel, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "As you said, I saved your life. You are indebted to me. It's only natural that you should repay that debt by working for me."
Bo's eyes widened in shock. Me, a maid for the Phantomhive family? The thought was almost laughable. "But," she began to protest. "You don't know anything about me. I could be a murderer, or a thief, or –"
"Isabo Stuart," Sebastian cut her off. Bo looked up to see him reading from a thick red folder. "Aged twenty-six years this past November." He glanced up at the black-haired woman with another smirk. "Happy birthday. Born to Dr. and Mrs. Elijah Stuart, both deceased. Cause of death was a carriage accident fourteen years ago on Christmas day. No other living relatives. Moved around from orphanage to orphanage until you turned eighteen. Troubled past. Incarcerated several times for petty theft and breaking and entering. So no, not a murderer," he added. "But a thief… That is questionable."
Her eyes widened at the butler. He had just read Bo's entire history in a span of five minutes. She was stunned into silence. "You see, Miss Stuart," Ciel said, stealing her attention once more. "The Phantomhive family does not just hire anyone to serve them. Each one of our servants has been carefully investigated by both Sebastian and myself. As for the thieving, promise to keep your hands only on the things I tell you to, and we shouldn't have a problem. I think you'll find the rest of the servants won't judge you here based on your history. So, Miss Stuart." Ciel paused, his blue eye filled with mischief. "Do we have a deal?"