Chapter Three
The earl met his demon's gaze evenly. In the first few months he had contracted Sebastian, Ciel had read extensively on demons. Everything and anything he could find. The descriptions, instructions about how to make a demonic sacrifice had made him throw up more than once, but he had pressed on, desperate to find what he had just done. And more importantly, how to use it.
Now, it no longer seemed such a large issue. Sebastian was, without a doubt, his weapon, his butler, and his demon. It didn't matter exactly who or what he was if he got the job done.
Still, he remembered the contents of his research - and the conclusions that he had drawn.
"Oh?" Ciel's smile mirrored his demon's as he inquired, "And what will I gain if I guess correctly?"
"Sated curiosity," Sebastian answered with a muted chuckle, lashes lowering as he shifted just enough to prop his cheek against a hand.
All of his instincts screamed at him to back off, to change the subject and keep the boy from actually speaking that name aloud should Ciel truly guess correctly. And yet…
And yet, the boy constantly took risks, continued to strive forwards on his own terms. There was a chance, true, that Ciel would guess correctly: but what of it? The contract had already been made and one was bound to the other. They were as close as the bindings could currently make them—very few things could tie them even closer together.
Move indulgent and idle, Sebastian crossed his legs and waited for Ciel's answer.
Ciel noted the change in the demon's body language. His demeanor was regal, challenging - and Ciel was satisfied that at least his first guess was right. Sebastian was definitely not the run-of-the-mill demon.
With their gazes locked as they were, Ciel could make out the barely shifting hues of red behind his butler's eyes.
But this was the wrong reason and the wrong time. Ciel had never done anything to sate his curiosity - he would use everything with purpose. Even if everyone were just pawns, he would hoard them, use them as much as possible, and only sacrifice them if the trade was worth it.
"No," the boy said, with an indecipherable smile, "Not yet. As they say: 'curiosity killed the cat'."
"And satisfaction brought it back," Sebastian retorted with a small chuckle.
But the hackney was slowing its pace, eventually stopping at the curb in front of the Vatican. The demon smiled slightly at that, lashes lowering once more to veil his red-tinted gaze. When those dark lashes lifted to reveal the demon's eyes, the butler's gaze was again deep brown—and the human guise had returned.
Stepping out of the carriage, Sebastian gave a slight bow and offered his hand to Ciel to help the young nobleman from the higher than usual step (since Sebastian had quietly ordered the step on the Phantomhive carriage to be lowered enough so that Ciel could easily get in and out of the carriage—which, of course, the lordling had never commented upon… perhaps because he would have been aware that it was an acknowledgment from Sebastian that he was rather short for his age).
Ordering the hackneyman to wait until they had returned from their chore—Italian flawless, of course—Sebastian paused for just a brief moment as he was making his way back to Ciel's side.
The wind had shifted, was now blowing towards them and past the Church's home.
And Sebastian recognized the familiar stench of an annoying spider demon. He was here, and he was somehow or other involved in this particular case; eyes narrowing slightly as he and Ciel made their way towards the Vatican's entrance, Sebastian wished that he had squashed the bug when he had had the chance. It wasn't proper to have pests running around and being allowed free-range, after all.
The young earl walked briskly through the pillared courtyard, up the marbled and ornately crafted doors. The larger doors were locked, of course, considering the hour. Walking down the arched hallways, however, Ciel found a smaller, open door and an entire scene in front of him.
The abbey was full of policemen in uniform, most of whom looked a sickly shade of green. Despite the fact that Ciel spoke very little Italian, it was clear from the sheer amount of dried blood on the walls that this was the location of a small massacre.
Ciel Phantomhive took a breath of clean, cold air and stepped sharply through the door.
While Ciel stepped forward through the door and into the crime scene, Sebastian curled his lip slightly at what he could see through that door: a horrible waste of resources and pawns, and the stink of demon everywhere.
Needless to say, the spider demon's demon aesthetics were as sloppy as ever.
Movements neat and economical, Sebastian followed his young contractor—Ciel would need his help, after all, with the Italian that the foreign country's police force spoke—and glanced further about the room from beneath his lashes. The last time that he and the other demon had… disagreed… the spider had enjoyed leaving behind a particular type of calling card for others of his kind to come across.
Perhaps he had changed since then (it had been two thousand years, after all), but it couldn't hurt to look—and, should Sebastian come across that "card," then he would be able to narrow the search exponentially.
"Ciao," Sebastian greeted the head inspector, giving a slight bow before gesturing to the much smaller nobleman. "My name is Sebastian Michaelis, and I am a butler of the Phantomhive family. This is my master, Ciel Phantomhive. You should have been notified to expect us…? We're here to lend a hand to your case, sir."
The inspector harrumphed and looked Ciel over: from the tip of his top hat wearing head to the bottoms of his slightly heeled boots (anything possible to gain several more precious inches in height?).
He was Not Impressed.
This babe in diapers was supposed to help with an investigation where some of his best men could barely stand being at the crime scene for more than five minutes…? Highly unlikely. Decision made, the Italian man opened his mouth to dismiss Ciel.
Ciel, on the other hand, ignored the head inspector entirely, and had already started his investigation. If he waited for approval from every pompous man, he would get nowhere and definitely be unable to remain as the Queen's Watchdog.
Taking a leisurely walk around the abbey, Ciel noted that the blood was long dry and despite how many policemen were blundering around the scene, they left relatively no damage on the evidence. This was some small luck at least.
There were footsteps crusted in brown, seeped into the white marble. The clearest were found walking out the abbey door - the majority of policemen were gathered around it, measuring and mapping. The rest were haphazardly strewn around the crime scene.
No. Not haphazardly.
Ciel placed his own, smaller foot onto the print, and followed the steps. He started slow at first, struggling a bit as he used the footprints as guides, had to adjust to the longer gait of the man who made these. Then he found his footing, whirled across the floor even when the footsteps degenerated into masses of crusty black and copper. It was exactly as Sebastian taught him.
"He was waltzing," Ciel stopped at the inconspicuous side entrance of the abbey, where the footsteps had taken him. The earl looked down at the last piece of evidence, the arcs of dried brown that had sprayed outwards from his feet. This time, the footprint was inverted, a clear patch of white marble, framed by dried blood.
"The culprit's feet had been clean here," Ciel announced, not particularly caring how much the head investigator understood him. "This was the first victim - who was here?"
Scowling darkly at the child who had immediately stepped into the crime scene as if he had owned it, the head inspector looked over at Sebastian for translation. The butler snorted and brought up a hand to hide his amused smile, though the look that he slanted at Ciel from the corner of his eyes told the contractor that Sebastian was very unlikely to forget about this.
Still, though, the demon did his job and spoke to the inspector, speaking Ciel's words but in Italian so that the language barrier between the two could be bridged. The older man snorted once the butler had finished speaking and idly shook his head, glancing away from Sebastian and the boy that had accompanied him to look over to where the first victim had fallen. "It was a bishop," the policeman explained, scowl still firmly placed as his (default?) expression. "His name was Bertók Lotto; he had recently been sent here by the Archbishop in his district, which was in Hungary. He had been here only a week before he was killed."
Absently, Sebastian translated the man's words for Ciel.
But his eyes were narrowed in distaste, glancing away from both humans to look over the crime scene once more. Waltzing. And the first victim's name was Bertók? "Bright raven"? The insect obviously thought that he was being funny.
How annoying.
Ciel noted the odd expression on Sebastian's face, but decided not to remark on it. Appearances needed to be kept up, after all. Still, the boy branded every line of his butler's face into his mind, turning it over and over in his memory. He had gained an interesting curiosity, another dimension of the puzzle that was Sebastian - Ciel had never seen the demon look so annoyed and uncomfortable.
The young earl gave the murder scene another once over and decided that there was nothing else of particular interest. He walked past the inspector, tilted his head up with a smirk, and stepped sharply out of the abbey. Even with a language barrier, there were some things that didn't need words to be understood.
The boy and the demon walked a respectable distance away from the Vatican, boots tapping and echoing eerily against cobblestone. Ciel stopped under a lamp post, leaned his back against it. His eyes and most of his face were thrown into shadow by the harsh, yellow lighting.
"So," he crossed his arms, "It was that demon, wasn't it."
"It was," Sebastian acknowledged with a sigh that bordered on exasperated. "He usually enjoys leaving different types of calling cards—in this particular case, it was the name of the bishop."
Irritated, Sebastian shook his head and glanced off down the street before continuing in an absent tone of voice: "However… despite the fact that his stench was all over the crime scene, I don't think that he's the one behind the previous murders that brought us here, bocchan. The insect is relatively boring compared to other demons: he's methodical and logical—he doesn't have much creativity. There wasn't any reason for him to be at the crime scene in the Vatican."
So why…?
Sebastian's eyes narrowed as he continued looking down the street, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall a little ways away from Ciel. The evidence piled upwards: when would a demon who was usually incredibly droll show a flair of personality, of creativity? When would a demon's personality be most likely to shift and change, to go against thousands of years worth of behavior?
The answer was simple as Sebastian returned his gaze to his bocchan: when a demon entered into a contract.
Ciel considered this new information. A demon, who apparently Sebastian considered distasteful, acting out of character. It was slightly ironic that his demon considered "methodical and logical" to be boring when Ciel would have used the same traits to describe himself.
There was something else missing.
Ciel found himself examining his own demon and the circumstances of their meeting. Could someone have summoned up a demon in the abbey? Then again, if the footprints did belong to that demon, why would he waltz at the scene? Definitely not the character that Sebastian was describing. (Unless he was an idiot.)
Which begged the question of whether the demon was acting on his own, or if he had a contractor.
"You say 'insect'," Ciel brought a thoughtful hand to his face, touched his lips with leather gloved fingers, "Why?"
"While we can take any guise that we wish, there are usually several forms that become our favorites," Sebastian murmured after a moment, an internal debate with himself over whether or not he wanted to give Ciel this particular set of information about himself and his kind. "This demon has a particular affinity for—"
Sebastian broke off then, eyes narrowing dangerously as it came together. The shadows deepened, darkening around his body. Holding out a hand for Ciel, he began to make his way back towards the hackney.
As he helped his bocchan back into the small carriage, Sebastian finished his thought and then gave the driver the direction of the district of where he remembered the other demon usually favoring the last time they had both been in Rome.
"Spiders, bocchan. He has a particular affinity for spiders."
"Of course," Ciel scoffed, his lips twisting into a mockery of a smile, "It seems that we should do a bit of research on the current head of the Trancy household and exactly how he gained that title. After all, the former head seems to have died rather abruptly."
It couldn't have been a coincidence. Ciel didn't believe in coincidences.
"If it's as you suspect, then the original strings of deaths had nothing to do with the Spider," the boy's eyes narrowed, "but after they received the summons, as we did, they started to kill on their own. The question remains: why?"
It made no logical, discernible sense. Why did Her Majesty the Queen summon Trancy if he was just going to commit treason to the Crown? This was the first that Ciel had ever heard of the Spider coming out of the woodwork (so to speak), unless it was done in secret without touching his vast network of informants. Originally, Ciel had considered this impossible -it seemed that all corpses eventually found their way to the Undertaker's- but this was doubtful now. If Trancy had a demon at his disposal, that theory was moot.
Well, the easiest answer to his question was simple: Trancy was crazy.
Other than that, Ciel found himself at a loss without more information.
"I suppose that we can always ask that question to the current contractor," Sebastian commented idly as he pushed aside the curtain to the hackney to reveal the hotel villa where the Trancy household was currently staying.
A young blonde boy was perched on the banister of the steps leading up to the hotel's entrance—and when he saw Sebastian and Ciel peeking out of the window of the carriage, the boy winked and blew them a kiss.
Ciel blinked. And blinked again.
The blond boy was still there, wearing the same ridiculously short trousers in flamboyant maroon - the same ugly color of his coat and vest. A giant, lavender bow at the boy's neck topped off the ridiculous outfit, its size seemingly mocking the respectable navy blue one that Ciel wore.
"That's the current head of the Trancy household?" Ciel couldn't help but say softly. The boy looked more like a prostitute than an Earl. Or even a functioning member of society.
Not for the first time, Ciel wondered if all demons had strange tastes.
(But, then again, when Claude wasn't stealing other demons' meals, he seemed to have a particularly twisted sense of what he liked in a contractor.)
Still, Ciel would take the opportunity for what it was. He took a short moment to compose himself, then nodded to Sebastian to open the door.
It took just a moment for the demon to follow his master's order, shifting up from his seat in the snug carriage and reaching out to settle his fingers upon the knob just as Claude stepped out to join Alois, scooping the blonde boy up in his arms. Silently, Sebastian opened the hackney door and stepped out onto the street—once more reaching up to help Ciel out of the carriage.
"Claude~~" Alois cheerfully said with a soft giggle, legs swinging idly back and forth when he was settled comfortably in Claude's hold as he looked the newcomers over. "We have guests!"
The boy didn't bother to move on his own—just waited for his butler to carry him back inside since he was still sore from the activities that the demon had put him through—and continued looking Ciel over. It was the first time that he had ever come across another contractor and his demon, and Alois' gaze sharpened with feral hunger as he stared at Ciel.
In answer to that, Sebastian came up behind the composed nobleman to settle his hands possessively over Ciel's shoulders. And Alois? Alois just laughed quietly to that, though his smile of so-called "welcome" sharpened further to a razor's edge.
The glint of the boy's smile did not go unnoticed by Ciel. At least it seemed that the boy was only partially crazy - more than enough for him to be responsible for the actions of his demon.
The said demon was also a curious thing. It was clear from his dress that he was a butler and behind the reflection off his glasses, Ciel caught a flash of sharp, golden eyes.
Still, even if this was Italy, Ciel was English and he had proprieties.
"Greetings, Lord Trancy." Ciel didn't bother to bow. He kept his eyes at a neutral distance over the boy's head - straying too far down meant that he would be forced to see an inappropriate amount of thigh as the boy kicked his feet like a child in the arms of his butler.
"I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, and I believe that you know why I am here."
Alois Trancy laughed at that, reaching up to twine his arms around Claude's neck, nuzzling affectionately at the bend of his butler's throat before nipping lightly to leave behind a bruise. It was just so much fun seeing Ciel's face light up with a blush at what he did with Claude—and, ooooooh~ If Ciel ever found out what they really got up to, the blonde couldn't help but wonder if Ciel would expire from an apocalyptic fit.
But that also just made things so much more fun!
The blonde didn't bother to hide another sharp smile, fingers idly playing with strands of Claude's hair before taking the glasses from his demon to perch them on the tip of his own nose, inspecting Ciel over the rim of them.
"Why so formal, Ciel?" Alois teased, raising an eyebrow and keeping the glasses on for the duration of his entertainment. "Since we're in such a similar predicament, shouldn't we be the best of friends?"
…nevermind the fact that Alois didn't have "friendship" in mind for Ciel, but that part of the trap would take a while to eventually spring. Until then, his fun and games came by messing up Ciel's "fun and games." Throwing all of the other boy's chess pieces to the ground to disrupt things was something that Alois had been looking forward to for months—and the game between the both of them had started already since it was apparent that the other contractor had just arrived from the Vatican.
Alois could still smell the darkness of the place clinging tightly to Ciel's clothes.
The darkness radiating from behind Ciel was stronger, however. Claude's face gave nothing away as he met the gaze of Sebastian Michaelis. It had been centuries, after all, since their last meeting. The other demon's power, it seemed, had not changed.
What had changed was the possessive hands that Sebastian Michaelis kept pressed to his contractor's shoulders. Interesting. Claude briefly wondered if it was due to the conclusion of their last... exchange.
The boy himself was a young and pretty thing, just as his own contractor was - all dark beauty and sapphire gem edges. His posture was sure, bordering on arrogant. It seemed that the other demon's tastes had not changed much either - he always seemed to like the willful types.
"Oh?" Ciel Phantomhive tugged his lips upward in a smug, superior smile, "How presumptuous. Especially since you've yet to introduce yourself."
Alois shrugged a shoulder to Ciel's chiding, pushing Claude's glasses up to rest atop his head. "What's the point of introducing yourself when the other person already knows who you are? It's stupid and most people are pieces of shit, anyway, so why bother?"
There was silence for a moment, and then the boy laughed suddenly, finally giving the glasses back to his own butler but cleaning them neatly on the edge of his shirt (though there were still fingerprint smudges on the clear lenses when Alois placed them primly on the bridge of Claude's nose). "Though~ Come inside, Ciel. We've been expecting you, and Timber's made lunch for everyone."
He reached around Claude then, pushing the door open so that they could return to the hotel's foyer and head back inside now that their guests had arrived.
Sebastian, however, made no move to follow the second contractor and his demon—who was now calling himself Claude, apparently—and instead kept his secure hold upon Ciel's shoulders. He had seen the way that the spider demon had looked upon his bocchan, remembered what happened the last time that they had clashed with one another.
"If you wish to follow them, stay close by my side throughout the duration of our visit," Ciel's butler finally said after a prolonged moment of silence: his words unusual in that they were neither his usual banter nor his tongue-in-cheek suggestions; there was an edge of command in Sebastian's voice. And—perhaps—concern, as well.
Ciel only raised an eyebrow in reply.
Usually, Sebastian would let him run headfirst into any sort of situation. The demon seemed to enjoy finding Ciel thoroughly roughed up before he stepped in to slyly save the day. The low urgency in his butler's voice now was unexpected. If Sebastian was wary, this did not bode well.
Still, Ciel had not come this far simply to hesitate at Trancy's doorstep.
The young earl tilted his head up, caught his demon's eye. Clumsily, with more instinct than actual know-how, Ciel mentally reached toward the connection that was forged with their contract. He had done it a few times before, mostly when he was staring down the barrel of some hoodlum's gun, his mind raging with a single, silent order for Sebastian. And then, despite the odds, Sebastian had been there, had somehow heard him despite the fact he never uttered a word.
It was the first time he tried it intentionally. Ciel felt his right eye burn under his eye-patch - the same it always did whenever he issued a particularly ruthless order. Despite the pain, the familiarity of the seal was comforting, just as was the implication of trust. Despite everything and anything, Ciel knew that Sebastian would be there to save him. He wondered if he imagined the answering heat on Sebastian's left hand, still clasped to his shoulder.
The moment passed and Ciel gave his butler a self-assured smile before stepping out of his demon's protective embrace, and walked through the door.
It was hard, harder than Sebastian previously would have thought, the difficulty coming in having to let Ciel step away from him and head into the darkened entrance of the hotel's suite's foyer. If Sebastian had been in a much more lively mood, he would have happily made a comment about the boy stepping arrogantly into the "belly of the beast"—but that lively mood was not now, and there would be no offhand comments until Sebastian had Ciel safely away from Claude.
His fingers curled tight, gloves clenching snugly around Sebastian's hands as he attempted to restrain himself from reaching out and pulling Ciel back towards him and away from the threat of the other demon. But the boy had a mind of his own-one of the things about Ciel that had always intrigued the Phantomhive butler, no matter the situation that they found themselves in-and Sebastian finally took a step forward, then another and another after that so that he could come after the boy. As he made his way past Claude and the promiscuous boy that the other demon was still carrying in his arms, Sebastian's lashes lowered to veil his gaze: time seemed to slow for just a moment-but a moment was all it took to pose the only warning that the spider would ever get from Sebastian.
"I will not allow a repeat of our last meeting. If you try to take the bocchan from me, I will most assuredly rip your existence to shreds."
Returning back to time where moments didn't stretch into eternity, Sebastian took another step forward and another following that, making his way through the foyer towards the dining room so that he may stand behind Ciel as the boy settled at the dinner table.
Alois watched the interaction between the two demons, quirking a small smile as he finger-walked leisurely over Claude's collarbone. "...he doesn't seem to like you very much~~"
The butler in question did not respond. Instead, Claude set his master with great care onto a chair across from Ciel Phantomhive. On cue, the Thompson, Timber and Canterbury trio stepped into the dining hall and placed bowls of soup and freshly toasted bread in front of the two boys. Hannah entered just as silently and went about filling juice and water glasses.
Claude briefly considered if he should offer to take Ciel Phantomhive's coat, as it was his own duty. He quickly decided against it - it would be more trouble than it was worth considering the glare that Sebastian Michaelis was giving him. It was odd how... defensive the other demon was.
Still, Claude's face remained as clear and stark as the pressed linen napkin he folded onto his master's lap. Slowly, with barely a clink of the silver against the soul bowl, he fed his master a sip.
As Alois delicately ate the soup that Claude presented to him, he watched Ciel from beneath half-lidded eyes as he kept himself from slurping at the food. When he had first come to the Trancy manor and had become "Alois" in body and soul, it had been an effort to learn all of the manners that he was supposed to know: which silverware out of the line of cutlery was appropriate to use and when, how to sit, how to talk, how to move so that others could properly be in awe of a nobleman and the body language that he presented to the world.
The lessons, however, had been learned.
So Alois did not slurp at his soup—
Though Sebastian, when he saw Claude feeding the boy his lunch, had to resist the slight curl of his mouth that he would have otherwise given in reaction. The helplessness of this contractor was startling and bordering on almost pathetic: to the point that the demon hand-fed him.
And yet…
Alois watched Ciel and Sebastian right now, lips shifting upwards in a small, twisted smile; it was almost as if he could read the thoughts kept very carefully behind veiled gazes that remained hooded and on the defensive for Ciel and Sebastian both. The smile just deepened further as the blonde contractor reached up and stilled Claude's ministrations with fingers that circled the demon's wrist like a noose.
"Hey, Ciel. Have you ever wondered about 'libera nos a malo'? About how it would apply to us?"
Almost gently, Alois' fingers tightened further around Claude's wrist to the point where even the demon would sport bruises in the shape of the hold that his young contractor had upon him.
Ciel watched the display in front of him with as much disgust as his demon. He schooled the expression under years of training, and expressly did not touch his soup. He was not here to fraternize, nor watch this boy show off his ridiculous afflictions.
"'Deliver us from evil'," he translated Alois' seemingly cryptic message easily. His Latin was not as strong as he liked, but as an Englishman, he would have been braindead to not recognize the line from the Lord's Prayer.
Ciel found himself unimpressed. He had been expecting more from this contractor than badly executed word games. Did Trancy really consider them equals - two helpless boys under the control of evil demons who sought to corrupt their pure souls? The earl mentally scoffed at this, his features settling into an amused expression.
"'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here'," he quoted in response, in English, because his own word puzzle didn't need to mask its complexity in another language. In a bored, indolent motion, the young earl gestured his butler toward his still-empty teacup, "Sebastian, make me some proper tea."
"Yes, my Lord," Sebastian murmured with a slight bow as he stepped off to the side to begin making tea for his lordling. He produced a small bag of Ciel's favorite Earl Grey from seemingly out of nowhere, tested the tea set and the hot water to ensure that they were clean—one couldn't be overly careful when dealing with a spider butler: Claude didn't even care enough about his role to wipe away the small drip that had landed on the edge of Ciel's bowl, nevermind the fact that bocchan wouldn't have eaten the food, anyway.
The blonde boy watched Sebastian prepare Ciel his tea for a moment before finally giving an amused chuckle, fingers tightening even more on Claude's wrist and this time allowing his fingernails to score the demon's skin to draw blood.
However, the smile that he gave to Ciel was angelically sweet. "I didn't ask that to start a discussion on philosophical bullshit," Alois told the other contractor. "I was curious, though, to see if you would ever want to be 'liberated' from your particular brand of 'evil.'" The last was said with an askance glance to Sebastian, and Alois' smile turned positively wicked as he took a folder from Canterbury, the house steward.
It was a case file, with all of the information that Alois' demons had managed to bring together thus far about the situation in Rome—clues, crime scenes that had been overlooked or dismissed, Satanistic and cult activities that had been moving into the religious city over the past two decades: pages and pages of valuable information that Ciel could use to solve the case that the Queen had sent him on.
But Alois didn't hand the folder over to the dark-haired boy because there was a catch.
There always was one.
This time, Ciel openly scoffed. The heavy mahogany legs of his chair scraped and grated across marble flooring as the young earl stood. "If that's all that you have to ask me, then obviously I've wasted my time."
As Sebastian came up behind Ciel to give the young lord his top hat back, Alois just tilted his head to the side and released Claude's hand after digging his fingernails deeper still into the pale skin beneath his touch. Now propping his chin in his freed hand, Alois quietly laughed and reached into the folder to pick up a picture of a crime scene that hadn't been listed in the initial report that the Queen had given to Ciel. Then another picture. Another. Another still. There was a thick pile still tucked away in the folder that Alois didn't bother getting to, photographs that were older and that would have taken Ciel a while to come across. The new ones, however, would catch the Phantomhive heir's attention.
Letting them drop to the floor once he showed them to Ciel, the blonde's caricature of a smile twisted further as he brought up one of his favorite pieces: a previously sealed letter—with the addressee's name smudged and undecipherable—from the current pope, Leo XIII.
"Oh? Have you really wasted your time, Ciel~?"
~TBC~