Rose had been right: the gardens were beautiful, like something out of a fairy tale. In fact, everything seemed right out of a fairy tale. Now all Eleanora needed was a Prince Charming to come and get her out of this mess.
She sat down on a swing, overlooking a little stream, and sighed, trying to think. Well, here she was. In Hell. About to get married to a demon. Could things really get any worse?
She shouldn't think that. Because naturally, with her luck, things really would get worse.
They did.
Eleanora wandered around outside for several hours, missing the remainder of breakfast as well as lunch. She was just thinking about missing dinner (the thought of food still repulsed her) when she noticed Sebastian walking up to her.
"Lady," he said, "there you are. I've been looking everywhere."
"What is it?" she sighed.
"Mother wants you," he said. "In fact, everyone does."
"Really? Why?"
"She said it's a…'womanly matter.'"
"Ohhh shit," she thought but still followed the butler back to the mansion. Eleanora knew that 'womanly matters' were never anything good. She wanted to ask Sebastian about said 'womanly matters,' but womanly matters were womanly matters for a reason: they involved women, and that was it. Besides which, men always got weird whenever womanly matters came up, regardless of their species.
Sebastian's family was waiting in the living room, trying to collectively teach the young Master how to play a card game. It wasn't working out, partly because they were all saying different things to him, and partly because half of them weren't even speaking English.
"Oh, look; she's here!" Rose said, looking up, and immediately all of the women in the group charged at her, screaming and hugging. Sebastian wisely stepped aside to allow this, and was immediately grabbed by his father.
"Look who dropped by!" he said, pointing to a couch. "Our old family friend!"
Sebastian sighed.
"Hello, Undertaker," he said. "How nice to see you again."
The Undertaker cackled and rubbed his hands together.
"Likewise," he grinned. "Now, shall we begin?"
"With what?"
"With the Macarena, genius," Jean said. "While the women are out doing their thing, we're going to stay here and have your pre-bachelor party!"
"…What does the Macarena have to do with that?"
"What is the Macarena?" Ciel whispered to the Undertaker.
"It's a song that won't be around in the human world until one hundred years from now," he said.
"And it's horrible," Sebastian said.
"And it's the greatest thing since pasta met cheese!" Jean scowled down at him. "Trust me, you'll agree with me when you see your wife doing it. But that's not important. Ladies, why are you still here? This is a man-only meeting! Can we have a little space, please?"
"Why, certainly," Rose giggled and kissed his forehead. But as she and the other chattering women left, escorting Eleanora to another room, Ciel noticed that she was smirking at her husband, who was smirking right back. He turned to ask the Undertaker why, but he was busy.
Busy placing a red mark on a wine bottle.