While I left the young master and his guest to their own trysts after Elizabeth left for the weekend (with promises to return Wednesday), I was given complete freedom to preoccupy myself with ball preparations. To be the most perfect butler, this was my mantra, my obsessive thought. Every moment I affirmed this, for this shell of an identity was all to keep me from unravelling.

Between the secrets Joanne divulged, the taste of Ciel, the knowledge that he still wished to lose himself with me, and that Joanne would encourage this... what did I have to combat this, other than to ignore all of it? But I could not run, not from the promise of ambrosia.

So I busied myself with tasking the servants, Finnian and Bardroy arriving at the town house early Monday morning. The gardener was given very detailed instruction on how the shrubs were to be pruned. Bardroy was excited for manual labour and when it came to replacing panelling and repainting the crown moulding, I considered that perhaps he had missed his calling. Mey-Rin spent nearly all of Tuesday polishing the floor in the ballroom because I insisted that it should gleam like glass. Finnian was set to clean the fountain on the terrace and have it operational. Lights were installed under cascading water and in the evening the effect was quite mesmerizing. Tanaka sat with the young master that morning to review reports and work out the insurance claim for LeHavre, and by the afternoon he wanted Joanne as a distraction once more.

Elizabeth arrived on Wednesday with cases and bags in tow and one would have thought she would be staying for much longer than five days. She took her guest room on the far side of the hall upstairs, away from the master's room. It was just as well, because despite my caution that they practice discretion, Ciel would still creep into Joanne's room in the dead of night, only to be woken early in the morning and tip toe back to his room before the dumb waiter was lifted up with tea.

Fortunately, when she was in their company they never gave her a reason to suspect a thing. Most of their time was spent practising their composition for the ball, which was a performance to be held in about the middle of event, just when people should need a break from the dancing, and give the hired string quartet a reprieve. Joanne sat in, listening to their practice, but I was sure he eventually tired of them playing passages over and over, starting and stopping to fine-tune their harmonising.

Eventually he wandered away from their practice, to find me preparing gift packages for many of the special donors for the event. It was a small token of appreciation: fine stationary, a gold pin commemorating the event, and a few Funtom sweets. Those who contributed a large sum to the event received "Lily of the Valley" perfume as part of their gift. It goes without saying that such events are an opportunity to promote product.

Joanne appeared apprehensive, a concern on his face, and when I questioned him as to what he should need, he asked, "If I may, could I have a look at the guest list? I just... want to know if there is anyone on it who I might not want to... run into." I smiled and nodded, handing him my completed list, grateful that he wanted nothing more from me.

He sat in a chair to the side as he read, and then about a third of the way down his brow furrowed, the paper shook in his hand and he whispered, "Oh no..."

I had made sure there would be no one of real importance that Joanne would have to concern himself with, but apparently I was mistaken. "What is it?"

"Ciel invited Richard Jacobsen." He looked up at me and appeared as if he was about to cry. "Richard. What reason would he have to invite Richard?"

These charity balls were more than social events or philanthropic projects. These were opportunities to network and make connections with influential persons. Richard, though young, was well on his way to taking over his father's business, running a certain department store that was quite the talk of London at the time, for it was fashionable to shop there. Of course Ciel wanted to make nice with him, for it would be all the easier to have another venue for his product. I explained all this to Joanne, then curious, "Why are you so bothered by this one individual?"

"He was prefect for Scarlet Fox last year." His shoulders hunched.

"So you know him." Joanne nodded. "Can I venture that you know him quite personally?" He covered his face.

"He'll recognise me. I can't do this, not if he will be there."

I was not about to let this young lad buckle from such a silly complication. What silly school-boy drama, I considered. I gave him the advice to speak to Lady Elizabeth and the young master on this issue.

That evening over dinner, Joanne plucked up his courage and told Elizabeth about how he would be attending the ball, and the importance of hiding his true identity. She sat in silence for a moment, blinking her confusion. "Ciel... you know this sort of thing is... not normal. Are you sure you want to help...?" She was concerned with being involved in something that could potentially be scandalous.

"Elizabeth, I believe if I can trust Ciel to hold my secret, then I can trust you as well. I need a lady to assist me with hair and cosmetics... because…"

Ciel chimed in. "Lizzie, I owe him a favour. You're right, this is all very unordinary, but please help him with this." Of course the lady would support her fiancé without question, especially when he reached across the table, taking her hand and casting that angelic smile.

It was decided that Joanne would model the dress for her, to prove that he was indeed serious, that he was not out to play some elaborate and foolish game to sully the Phantomhive name. When she witnessed Joanne adorned in the dress, along with properly fitting shoes this time, she squealed and clapped her hands.

"Oh my goodness! It would take so little to have you pass for a lady after all! You are just adorable! Yes, we have to do something about that hair, and a bit of rouge on your face will be perfect!" So it was decided. Elizabeth saw Joanne has her pet project, to transform him into a most convincing lady. She even went so far as to give tips on bowing, sitting, how to position arms, how to walk, how to hold one's posture, how to speak.

This was their preoccupation for the day prior to the ball, when I had neither time nor patience to placate them, with so many orders arriving, finishing touches to decorations, and catering to oversee.

While all this was taking place, from the front entrance I heard someone barge in, chirping in a thick accent. "Ciel! Ciel, I've come early to visit, hello?"

The young master was in the study, out of the way of the hustle of activity. Upon hearing his name he rushed from the room at the top of the stair. "Prince Soma? What are you doing here?"

The prince was dressed in his Weston uniform, with Agni two paces behind, dressed in his typical garb that could not be more of a striking contrast. Agni carried a suitcase and looked rather pleased to be in service to his master for the time being, for students at Weston were not allowed personal servants.

"I heard that Harcourt was on holiday with you, and I came as soon as I could. Classes are quite demanding! And the school board has me on probation. So I can only stay until tomorrow night." He seemed unphased by the severity of his academic short comings, but such was the way with the young prince, to consider his peers as having greater priority than his own ambitions.

Ciel descended the staircase, and when he reached the bottom, folded his arms. "You could have rang me, or sent me post, something."

"I wanted to surprise you, my good friend!"

"I'm surprised, that is certain."

"And where is Harcourt?"

I assisted Agni with parcels. "I am afraid the guest room Prince Soma prefers is occupied, since Joanne has been with us," I explained to the servant.

"How have you been, Sebastian?" Agni greeted me.

"As well as to be expected, busy as always, you understand."

"That is good news, old friend."

Soma whipped around from hearing the exchange, thick hair adding a certain agitated drama. "What do you mean he has been in my room?"

Ciel spat, "Technically it is not your room. I just allow you stay in it whenever you decide to show up."

From the upstairs hall Elizabeth poked her head out of her room. "What is going on out there?"

Soma continued in his loud exuberance. "Lady Elizabeth! It has been too long!"

"How unexpected!" She looked rather flushed. "Give us a moment, please, we'll be right out to greet you properly." And she unceremoniously closed the door. She, Paula and Joanne were in the room, I knew, most likely determining a hairstyle for the young lad.

As we ascended the stair, I ushered Agni into another guest room, and he proceeded to unload the suitcase. Of course Prince Soma would have an opinion about it. "This is such a small room! You can't have me in this room! Ciel, tell your butler to put me in my room."

"You're only here to spend one night, correct? I'm not moving Joanne, he's quite comfortable there, so do not trouble him on the matter."

"I'm sure if I asked him, he would not mind. Besides, I'm his senior at school, he has to do what I say. Where is he? Harcourt!"

From Elizabeth's door there was a muffled, "Kadar? Is that you?"

Prince Soma ran into the hallway. "My friend! Come and greet me!"

From Elizabeth's room Joanne stammered, "Please, just a moment, wait for us in the parlour."

Of course the prince, being as impatient and entitled as always, opened the door to the lady's room. I shook my head, palm to forehead, as I heard the women shriek from the prince's intrusion. Ciel bellowed, "Soma, enough!" while Agni stood looking quite useless.

From the doorway Joanne could be seen sitting at the vanity in silk robe and harem trousers, hair coiffed with cascades of curls extending over his shoulders, face painted to give him the look of dewy radiance. Prince Soma stood in the doorway looking rather confused, and Joanne looked terrified.

Soma tilted his head to the side. "I heard Harcourt's voice from this room... please forgive me for my disturbance, Lady Elizabeth, ladies."

Joanne stood from his seat at the vanity. "Kadar." He was all silk and pearls, fair skin and lavender, a presentation of opulent femininity. Elizabeth had spun some fantastic illusion, as women are adept at such arts and appear to achieve them with little effort. The glamour had worked.

Ciel leaned against the wall in the hallway, shaking his head, dreading the inevitable fallout of all of this.

"Harcourt? Is... is that you? Truly?"

Ciel turned to Agni. "Please, control your master, will you? I've had enough of this."

"I apologise for his behaviour," he bowed and went to retrieve Prince Soma from Elizabeth's room but stopped short. Both Indian men stood at the threshold in disbelief. The next thing to happen was even a shock to me, as we all watched a prince at a loss for words drop to his knees before Joanne. Agni also fell to the floor, chanting and holding his hands in supplication. Joanne had to sit down in bewilderment at the display. Elizabeth and Paula rushed out the room all together, looking rather distraught over the men's foreign behaviour.

Ciel was furious at this point. "What is this madness? Soma, I have had enough of your—"

"Please, young earl, do you not see this blessing before you?" Agni turned to face Ciel, gesturing to Joanne who looked thoroughly at a loss. His curls bounced about his pale face as he looked back down at the prince kneeling before him, then back up at Ciel, who blushed at the sight of Joanne, but Joanne just shrugged, mouth open.

Soma exclaimed, "He is hijra!"

"Huh?"

"What?"

Agni explained, "The hijra have been a special caste for hundreds of years, but with British rule they have been given much grief. They give their worship to Ardhanarishvara, the god who is half-female. It is a god who is the union of Shiva and his wife, Parvati, the benevolent aspect of Shakti, when Kali is not enraged."

I brought a finger to my lips. Oh, this was unexpected. I would forever be amused at how the strange customs of these men would colour every moment spent in my master's company. One could never predict what was to come of them.

Soma chimed in. "For every one of my brothers and sisters, a special festival was held in court where all the hijra of the city were brought in to dance and give blessing for health and prosperity. It has been a tradition of the royal family for generations, and British rule looks down upon it."

"Can you not see the brilliance of this person?" Agni began to bellow, tears streaming from his eyes. "Hijra are rare, and because of that they are auspicious, a reflection of the spirit of Ardhanarishvara! Both of you are so lucky! Lord Phantomhive, you have been blessed!"

Ciel seemed struck dumb, but plucked up his composure. "He has been good company."

Prince Soma rose from the floor and grasped my master by the shoulders. "Ciel, I did not know hijra exist in this country! I thought they were people special to mine."

Joanne found his voice again. "I have never heard of hijra before. So these are people, like me?"

Soma answered, "Hijra are men who are made into women. Harcourt, you had me fooled all this time."

"And you say these people have always existed in your country?"

"Yes!" The two Indian men chimed.

"I don't believe it." Joanne looked at himself in the vanity of the mirror. "I thought I was the only one, that there was nothing on earth to describe this..."

From my perspective, having seen humanity present itself in countless forms, while Joanne's position was unexpected in this time and place, the two Indians were correct, it was nothing unheard of. In point of fact, in their culture, such phenomenon was seen as a mystery, for a soul to harbour the qualities of both male and female, for a person to take on the role of the other. Could not such a transformation be seen as mystical?

Prince Soma bolted to Joanne on the seat, grasping him in a tight embrace. "Harcourt! You are special, and unique! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise! I am lucky to have you as my friend!" It seemed this affirmation was a colossal relief to the fair lad, for he choked back a sob. Even Ciel had encountered this truth with confusion, but here was a friend who gave Joanne genuine acceptance in a way only Soma Asman Kadar could.

Joanne chuckled through this sobbing, and gave a sniff. "Just don't tell the other blokes about this, all right?"

"I promise. British people are not kind to hijra at all." For all his seeming naiveté, the Prince was not entirely ignorant of English sensibilities, whether from British colonialism in his own land, or from his time at Weston. "But Ciel, you knew about this right? You have been kind to Harcourt? He is your friend, yes?" He spun around wide-eyed to face my master.

"Yes, it's the reason he is here. I supplied him a dress for the ball."

"Ciel you knew of Harcourt's auspicious nature from the beginning! He will bring such prosperity!"

"It's not like that! You know things don't work like that here!" Ciel huffed.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth and Paula had been in the hall listening to all of this. Elizabeth stepped forward. "Prince Soma, you brought up a very important point. If people knew about this, they would not be so kind to Joanne, and our accomplice in this would be a terrible blow to our reputations. So during the ball, you must not act with such familiarity with him. He has told us all in confidence. All of this is rather strange to me... but he is Ciel's friend! So I must protect him."

"Lizzie..." Ciel took her hand and she smiled. "You are such a gracious young woman."

"Oh, I don't know about that." She gestured to Joanne. "I just allowed him to use a few of my hair pieces, a bit of cold cream and pearl powder, and a touch of carmine. You were right, it really doesn't take much. I need to thin his eyebrows a bit. Now, will all of you please leave me while I finish with Joanne?"

I directed Soma and Agni out of the lady's room, and Joanne sighed with relief, the attention taken away from him and left to his privacy once more. As we approached the stair, Soma exclaimed, "Oh, I was going to ask Harcourt about the room... but I suppose he can keep it."

With the addition of another guest, dinner had become something of a more elaborate endeavour, and braised beef was off the menu. Agni felt terrible that his master's presence should disrupt my plans and offered his help in the kitchen, which I did not mind. Agni was something of a strange individual, and perhaps a force to be reckoned with, but had a sense of perspective one does not encounter very often in humans. He was unpredictable as well, and that alone was enough to want to keep him in my company. I could not read him like most others, and I suspected he was aware of my sinister condition, but considering his background and his world view he looked upon the world of spirits and devils as being just another component to existence.

As far as he was concerned, I had no ill intent to his master, and so he would not seek to destroy me just on principle. He had no control over the evils of the world, but he had the ability to protect his master, and that was all he needed to concern himself with. I appreciated how he maintained realistic priorities. Also, his level of attentiveness to his master was unmatched, a devotion that far surpassed anything I had experienced, and I was inclined to ask him, as I had been every time I saw him but could never bring myself to utter it, "What do you receive in return?" I would not receive a definitive answer for that, because the truth was Agni received nothing tangible in return for his service. He received pleasure in being useful, a sense of purpose, and I could understand those things to a marginal degree, I cannot say I was made with such a purpose as he was. Agni fulfilled a role in his life, because that was what he was made to do. Individuals such as myself are not imbued with any purpose. I could take pride in my work, but the true fulfilment he spoke of was something lost to me.

The truth of it was my aesthetic was just as much of a glamour as Joanne's softened, lady-like appearance. Or was it? Was his presentation truly a lie? Or was it more of a reflection of some special radiance, as perceived by the two Indian men? I always gave their interpretations of things some consideration, but their views of the world were not so dualistic. It was not a matter of black and white, good or evil, night and day, but rather the ebb and flow between various states, with every permutation seeking its own unique balance.

And I considered the paradox of balance within my own master, the corruption of his own innocence, yet his unwavering dignity. How the tragedies and sacrifices of his life brought me to him, yet he looked upon me with such favour. And the latest events with Joanne had stirred something even more perplexing in him. Prince Soma was right, Joanne had some cunning grace that had refined some broken part of Ciel. The greatest anomaly of it was that it was not in some effort to purge him of his wickedness, but rather to bolster Ciel's humanity so he had the fortitude to possess it.

Joanne would never air just how much he knew in regards to what I shared with my master. I think in some intuitive way he understood, without explanation or reasoning. As I stood watch outside, walking the perimeter of the house I reflected on these thoughts. Earlier that evening, I had happened upon Joanne and Ciel in the smoking room after dinner and as they spoke in hushed tones Joanne's words startled me.

"I want you to promise me something, Ciel. Be fearless in your love. Take command of it as you would any other part of your being, as I've seen you do. And I only say this... because in the end... is that not all that we have? A spark inside us?"

Yes, Joanne understood it, without books or worldly wisdom, he just knew.

I did not know whether Ciel would make on such a promise, if he nodded his head to placate his companion or if there was sincerity behind it at all. I had closed myself off to him these past days, not wishing to be near enough to decipher his thoughts. Instead I sat on the roof of the town house deciphering my own, sensing how so many of the souls in the house were bedding down and drifting off for the night. I knew it inevitable for my master's to stir, some silent loneliness to compel him to sneak into the bed of another, as was his new-established habit. Eventually, Joanne would have to return to Weston, to return to his own life of obligation and responsibility, and where would that leave my lonely master?

In that still hour of midnight, I noticed how the hoot of an owl faded away, and the chirping of the crickets was stamped out, as if crushed one by one. The moon hung low on the horizon, amongst a dim skyline of London, a waning crescent that faded into some ominous colour. It reminded me of a sickle, splotched red.

That was when the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I realised I was not alone in that breathless night.

That eerie silence was punctuated by the clacking of heels behind me. As soon as I registered that gruesome red I leapt onto a branch of the oak that hung over the roof. His tacky grin with its row of sharpened teeth, the way his hip jutted to one side under his trench… Grell's unexpected arrival sent chills through me and his impossible death scythe whirred to life to match his cackling.

"Come now, Sebby dear, put those claws away." He sprung through the air to land behind me, and with it he brought that rotating blade to strike the branch upon which I stood. My master's bedroom was just below, and I knew he would be able to hear this racket, anyone on that wing of the house would hear it. Not only that, the scythe could slice through that tree like a warm knife through butter, and I could not tolerate the possible damage of a tree branch falling on the roof.

A swift kick to the face was all it took to render him defenceless. The death scythe was suspended halfway through the thick branch, and I decided it was best left there as I knocked Grell to the ground. He relinquished the most piteous yawp as I landed and pinned him to the earth.

A Reaper does not appear for the sake of it, even this one. This was a most sure portent of death and I would have none of it, not with the massive social event tomorrow. All these guests were to arrive the next evening and now, now a Grim Reaper. Surely this meant there was to be some calamity at this event that was months in the making. It had me livid.

"Let us cut to the chase." I perched low, my face inches from his, eyes flaring. He breathed heavy, rivulets of blood gurgling from his nose, and this sight gave me a small bit of satisfaction.

Grell coughed, sputtering, "Sebby, I always knew you like it rough."

"I could give you a broken jaw to go with that broken nose of yours." I cracked my knuckles. "Unless you want to tell me why you are here."

He shielded his face with his hands but spoke quickly. "I'm on assignment of course. You know London is my jurisdiction."

"So someone here is fated to meet their end."

"Well, obviously. As much as I adore you and your devilish charm I didn't come hoping for some moonlit rendezvous."

Grell received a jab to the stomach from my knee and his eyes bulged in a most unattractive manner. "It is my understanding that if there were more Reapers in this area they would have shown themselves by now."

"Nope. Just me." Grell wheezed.

"Good. One is more than manageable. Now, are you going to tell me what I want to know?"

"Depends on what you want to know." He wiped the blood from his nose, smearing over his gloves and I thought it crude. I handed him the handkerchief from my breast pocket, sneering my disapproval.

"How many souls do you intend to reap?"

"Two."

"Who?"

"Come now, Sebby, you know that is classified information." He dabbed at his nose and winced. "I can't believe you kicked me in the face… no, I take that back, I can believe it, you hellish bastard—"

"Can you tell me who it is not?"

Grell stopped sopping the blood from his face and waved the bloody handkerchief in front of me. "Oh, so long as it is not your little brat then no problems, huh?"

"So you have not come for him."

He smiled those fangs. "Keep asking questions and I'll expect payment soon."

"Are you suggesting some sort of transaction? With me? Oh what would your superiors think?" I gripped his wrists and pinned them to the ground at shoulder level.

"I never much cared for the opinions of others, you should know that." He batted his green eyes beneath those gaudy spectacles.

I was losing my patience. "When are the dates you are expected to retrieve these two souls? Do they die at different times? Or in close proximity?"

He was silent a moment, probably considering what he could get away divulging. "Less than a week, the pair of them."

"So these two have close relation to one another."

"One could say they couldn't be closer. Speaking of which," Grell attempted to lift himself. He smelled of damp earth, copper, and petrol and I detested it. "How about we get a bit closer, hmm?"

I ignored the proposition, but sunk lower, just inches from those ghastly teeth. "Do you intend to keep yourself scarce? You see, the young lord has an event planned for tomorrow evening, and if anyone should come barging in and mucking it up for him, I will take great pleasure in removing their head. You understand, yes?"

"I love it when you talk dirty."

It was then I felt a swift and powerful knee to the centre of my back, and it would have been a paralyzing blow for any mortal. As I fell forward he butted me in the head. Granted, this attack took me by surprise, and I forgot my hold on the Reaper. He pushed me off, and I managed to dodge a kick to the chest before he ascended to that high branch of the oak where the scythe was still imbedded in the tree. He seemed ready to dislodge it with intent to cause some real destruction, and as I stood preparing for the assault he whooped, "Oh my! What do we have here?"

As I glanced up, blinking away the spots in my vision from his head-on offense, he kneeled, peering into my master's room. The nerve of him; only I had the right to get away with that sort of intrusive behaviour. "Too right, wow, look at them go! Didn't know the brat earl had it in him. And look at that pretty little thing he's railing on, gracious!"

"You are giving me good reason to destroy you right now." I darted into the tree, grabbed him by the neck and pinned him to the trunk. For a moment he looked terrified, to be strangled so, but perhaps he saw some seething malevolence.

He rasped, "Wait… wait!" clawing at my arm.

"I understand that you have a job to do, and to interfere with that is more of a headache than what I am willing to tolerate. Your assignment is a simple one, so do not cause me trouble." I released him and he collapsed on the branch. For a moment he seemed as though he was about to lose his balance and fall to the ground again.

He rubbed at his neck and hissed, "You seem touchy."

"Keep to your business, Reaper, and I will keep to mine."

He gawked at me above the rims of his spectacles, and emitted a slow chuckle. "I'll have you know…" it seemed a great strain for him to speak at this point, but Grell was never the one to know when to shut it. "As much as I enjoy our visits, I wasn't particularly keen on this assignment. The higher ups saw me as a prime candidate for it, and Will would do nothing to grant me exemption." He coughed then growled, "So don't think I came here on holiday!"

This struck me as suggesting some importance. "Why you? Technically he could have sent any reaper to London to harvest two souls, so there is a reason he sent you specifically?"

He turned away. "I would rather not discuss the specifics."

"Classified?"

"No! A lady has her secrets is all!" He sat on the branch, legs crossed at the ankle, and with unabashed enthusiasm continued to stare into the window. It did appear Ciel was being rather vigorous, but perhaps he knew Joanne could only stay one last night. Frankly, the whole scene was distracting, even if they were being quiet. Grell continued, "I promised Will I would behave on this assignment, because frankly I would rather just get it over with and be on my merry way. But you know what would make this enjoyable for me?" He batted his eyelashes. "Take me to the ball!"

I had not been listening to his prattling, but that last request pulled me back to the fact that I was indeed standing next to a Reaper who could very well cause me some real damage, and that branch was not feeling very sturdy either. "Do not be absurd."

"You're gonna let the buggered lady-boy go all trussed up but you won't make an exception for me as well?"

"How long have you been peeking into my master's business?"

"Long enough to know more than I should." His wicked grin sent me shuddering. "You are in deep, devil."

"I do not have the slightest idea what you are talking about."

"Oh I think you do- Hey!" I yanked the scythe from the branch which yielded a foreboding crack. Before it could fall to the roof of the house I careered under it, lifting it away to deposit to the ground with only a rustling of leaves. Grell turned to sit at the stump of the branch. "Give me back my scythe! Hey! Don't you walk away from me!"

Taking possession of a Reaper's scythe would have the entire London division of the Grim Reaper Dispatch in front of the Phantomhive townhouse. I turned to him in the tree. "You try my patience, and it would give me great pleasure to end you, because it seems every time we cross paths I miss the opportunity to do so."

"Every encounter with you feels like a missed opportunity! Now you understand a bit of my own frustration, Sebby!"

"Stop calling me that, or I will cause trouble for you, and Mr. Spears would have no qualms coming to subdue me, I am certain. For both of our sakes, let us not involve him in this simple matter." I threw the monstrous machine into the tree and Grell caught it. "Take it and get out of here. If I see you tomorrow rest assured I will raise Hell, and you know that is no great effort for me."

He twirled a tendril of red hair with that bloodied hand of his, considering that botching this assignment would land him with some disciplinary action. As I walked onto the terrace I heard a cricket, the midnight breeze had a slight chill, and I knew he was gone. Grell was not the hardest Reaper to handle, but he was rather trying. One thing was for certain; I would have to be extremely vigilant these next few days.