Something clicked in Eleanora's mind once she had arrived back at the Standfields'. She had fainted in Phantomhive—truly undignified, and worse, it was absolutely unprofessional. She couldn't risk doing that again. She suffered through another day of torture and party-planning (not that there was much of a difference between the two) and at night, instead of going to Phantomhive, she went upstairs to her room and flopped down on her rickety iron bed. She vaguely thought about Phantomhive, and whether-or-not they would be expecting her, but she decided that taking a night off wouldn't do anybody any harm. She had worked hard. She deserved a night's rest. She yawned and closed her eyes and within seconds was dead to the world.

Sebastian had left the list of things that Eleanora had to do on the kitchen table, as usual. He was incredibly disappointed—bordering on "angry"—when he returned and realized that nothing had gotten done. It was as if she had never bothered to come at all. How rude!

He wondered why she hadn't come. Perhaps it had something to do with her fainting? But she had been just fine afterwards. But maybe fainting was a big deal in the human world. He sighed and quickly completed the tasks he had originally meant for Eleanora. He would give her that night—that was all. He expected her back this night.

Eleanora had been forced to wake up early, just like all the maids, but she felt much better than she had in ages. It was amazing what a good sleep could do. But apparently Mrs. Standfield hadn't slept well that night, because she woke up in a perfectly foul temper and decided at the last minute that everything about her party was wrong. Everything had to be changed, and changed immediately.

The servants were forced to work long into the night just to have a prayer of everything going smoothly. The masters, of course, had gone to bed at a decent hour and only woke up to yell at the servants to keep it down; some people needed their sleep here!

Sebastian had spent several hours pacing the kitchen at Phantomhive. He had decided to stay tonight for a while just to make sure that she was truly coming. The clocks in the mansion struck twelve and she still hadn't appeared. That was it. He didn't care that it was late; she had to be here, and she had to be here directly. He was on a schedule.

He called the Standfields'. Bella the maid picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hello; is Miss Black there?"

"Who?"

"Eleanora."

"Who?"

"…Mary Ann."

"Oh, her! Yes, she's here. Do you wanna talk to her?"

"No, just give her a message. Tell her that she needs to go directly back to Phantomhive."

Bella shouted out the message to Eleanora, who was trying to make a decent strawberry cake for the very first time. She shouted back that she was busy and she couldn't make it; she'd try to come tomorrow night. Bella relayed this message back to Sebastian, tactfully cutting out all the swear words.

"I don't care about her excuses," Sebastian said coldly. "Tell her to come here immediately or…I'll tell."

"You'll tell? Tell what?"

"Just give her the message."

Bella shouted it to Eleanora, but one of the footmen had accidently set something on fire and Eleanora had to go douse it. All she heard was Bella shouting at her, and she shouted something back accordingly.

"She said to ! off," Bella told Sebastian.

"I see," Sebastian said and fell silent. The maid stood around awkwardly, wondering what else to say. "Then, in the morning," he finally said, "could you kindly tell Mrs. Standfield something?"

"Certainly; what?"

"Tell her that, in the month of her absence, Eleanora was getting married." Then he hung up.

The maid stood there, shocked, her mouth open. Eleanora—married?! But that was impossible! She was so ugly and crass and everything…There must be some mistake!

Eleanora swore in the kitchen and Bella peeked at her. She had spilled some strawberry sauce on her long white gloves that she had suddenly started wearing and tore off the left one.

There was a ring on her left ring finger—a beautiful black wedding ring.

Bella gasped and ran upstairs to Mrs. Standfield. This couldn't wait until morning. Eleanora was married! Married without permission! Absolutely disgraceful. She would get fired for this.

Eleanora slipped her white glove on again, blissfully unaware of the ax that was about to fall on her head.