A month had almost passed and Eleanora still wasn't working for Phantomhive. In fact, she didn't even seem to be working anywhere. Ciel had called her previous employers, but they had said that they hadn't seen her in weeks. She had just vanished—no two weeks' notice, no resignation letters, nothing. Just gone.

Ciel was pretty sure that his butler had something to do with it. Sebastian seemed to get more and more stressed and irritated as the month wore on. Eventually, Ciel got so impatient that he decided to confront him:

"Sebastian, where is Eleanora?"

Sebastian flinched a bit, as if hearing her name pained him.

"She's…preoccupied."

"Are you convincing her to work for Phantomhive?"

"Working on it, my Lord."

"Good," Ciel nodded and went back to his work. He thought about something and then looked up again. "Sebastian?"

"…Yes?"

"I forgot to ask—how exactly are you convincing her?"

"I'm afraid that's…private."

"Oh," Ciel said, wondering what it was, but his butler didn't seem inclined to talk about it. "Well, is it something that I would approve of?"

"I think so, my Lord—if you really thought about it."

"Oh. Well, if I would approve of it…"

Sebastian nodded and left the room to see to dinner. He was getting more and more—what was that word? Frustrated? Yes, that was it—he was frustrated. His hand with the contract pained him more and more with every day and that wretched idiot still refused to sign. He probably could have upped the tortures, but then he might be crossing the line of what the young Master "approved of."

But then again, maybe not. After all, it had only been a little while ago when the young Master had ordered that mansion filled with those children to be burned down. He hadn't lied when he said that he might've "approved it." If he really thought about it—and was in a listening mood—and if he was a little drunk—or maybe a lot drunk—he definitely would approve of his methods. He hadn't lied. He hadn't lied at all. Lord, he loved loopholes.

But there was still the issue of the girl. She still refused to sign.

He sighed and thought about how to get her to sign. He was trying everything that he thought was fairly decent. He could be doing much worse to her—much, much worse. But what could break her?

She eventually did break. Surprisingly, she cracked not due to Sebastian, but from something else entirely.

Eleanora was in hell. She had heard of phantom limbs, and in her sickest moments, she knew that she still had her right arm and her right foot. She could feel them; she could touch them. But then another nun would approach and there would be pain and she would flash back to reality—horrible, grim reality—and remember where she was and what they were doing to her.

"I don't deserve this," she remembered thinking, over and over again. "I did nothing to deserve this."

Then there would be pain again.

"Kill me…Please kill me…"

Everything hurt—her head, her leg, the place where her arm used to be—but then came the worst pain of all. Between bouts of agony, she was furious. She knew that it was coming—it always came—but why now? This was adding insult to injury. On the plus side, the nuns took one look at what was happening and seemed completely at a loss. They were so shocked that they were forced to call him—that damned butler.

Sebastian arrived shortly after the phone call. He had been forced to sneak away at night and wasn't in a good mood.

"Well? Has she agreed yet?"

The nuns shook their heads.

"N-No sir…"

"Then why did you call me here?"

"Sir, there's something wrong…"

He frowned at Eleanora, lying on the stone bench. She was missing her right arm and her right leg up to her knee. She was filthy and feverish and kept on moaning in pain.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Sir, she's bleeding…"

"Cauterize it, then."

"Sir, she's bleeding in the wrong area…"

He frowned deeper and approached the woman. She was in a delirium and didn't realize that he was there. One of the nuns grabbed her leg while the other grabbed her stump and they opened them up. Sebastian winced at the smell, looked, and almost fainted. The nuns were right—she was indeed bleeding.

"Is that—That's not—That's not normal, is it?" Sebastian choked. "I mean…That never happened to any one of you, right?"

"Never, sir," the nuns said, equally terrified at the unnatural event.

"Do you suppose…that she's…dying?" one of the nuns whispered. Sebastian almost fainted again.

"Dying? She can't die!" His hand with the contract blazed with pain and he clutched it. "She can't die. If she dies…" If she dies, I'll have disobeyed an order. "Get it out."

"S-Sir?"

"Get out whatever is causing this and make sure that she lives!"

Eleanora started screaming.

The head nun came in the next day, looking absolutely furious. Sebastian was there, sitting next to her, gently touching the scar on her lower stomach.

"You—idiot," the head nun hissed. Sebastian looked up.

"Mother?"

"You idiot," she hissed again, stomping forward and wrenching him away from Eleanora. "You complete and utter idiot. What did you do to this poor girl last night?"

"Sh-She was bleeding last night, Mother," one of the nuns whimpered. "W-We took it out…"

"Put it back in," the Mother hissed. "Put it back in immediately! And you…" she thrust a book into Sebastian's hands—Anatomy of the Human Female—"educate yourself, you twit."

She whirled around and stomped back upstairs.

Eleanora started screaming again.

A month had officially passed and she began to whimper.

"F-Fine," she whispered.

The closest nun leaned in.

"What?"

"F-Fine," she whispered again, "I'll sign…I'll sign…"

Sebastian was called again and the ceremony was repeated. He had to hold up Eleanora—partly because of her missing leg, and partly because she was so sick she couldn't stand up on her own.

The Mother conducted the ceremony, frowning at Sebastian the whole time, making him shift around uncomfortably. She had agreed to him using the church's basement, but that didn't mean she approved of his methods. Eventually she asked the question and he answered.

"Su facio."

She asked the question, gently this time, to Eleanora, who whimpered it out:

"S-Su facio..."

A new contract was brought forward and both of them signed it. The Mother said something and then repeated it in English:

"You may kiss the bride."

Eleanora felt a spurt of anger.

"That's what all this was about? A stupid freakin' wedding? Who the ! is getting married?"

She felt something slide onto her left ring finger and then warm lips pressed against hers.

"Oh," she thought. "Oh, oh, oh."

The world was growing dim…

"Well, shit."

And then she blacked out.