Paris was even more of a bustling metropolitan than London was. Many of the buildings looked brand new, and the city appeared to be thriving. It was difficult to believe the country had been at war only a few years ago. Ciel found himself watching every face of every person the carriage passed on the way to their hotel.

"There are almost two million people residing in this city," Sebastian commented, also peering out the window. "It will be difficult to narrow down suspects — especially in the central districts."

"What do we know so far?" the young earl asked, his tone serious.

"All the identified victims are young, unmarried women," his butler replied. "Due to the amnesia, we do not have very much to go on."

"Compile a list of the victims and where they were found," Ciel ordered. "Even better if you can speak to them yourself and find out exactly what they do remember."

"Yes, sir," Sebastian answered with a nod.

Ciel paused, his one visible blue eye sliding from the window to his butler. "What are you waiting for?"

A small, apologetic smile lifted the corners of Sebastian's mouth. "Will you be alright settling in without me?"

The young earl scoffed. "Of course I will," he huffed, offended. "I assume you've made all the necessary preparations?"

"Of course," Sebastian nodded again.

"Then go."

Sebastian lowered his head politely. "As you wish." He moved toward the door, pushing it open.

The biting wind scratched at Ciel's face as it whipped through the carriage, and he shut his eyes tightly as Sebastian tumbled out of the moving vehicle, only daring to open them again once the door was forced shut by the wind and stillness returned to the inside of the carriage.

Ciel sighed and closed his eyes again, keeping them that way until the carriage pulled to a stop. He waited until the door was opened for him before grabbing his cane and holding onto his top hat as he stepped out onto the pavement.

The Phantomhive's Parisian townhouse was roughly half the size of the one in London, but no less grand. Despite the fact that it had been uninhabited for several years, the interior was dust-free, with fresh flowers adorning the sideboard. The old furniture had been replaced with more modern pieces; the windows had been recently cleaned. Even the chandelier in the living room had been freshly polished.

Ciel dumped his cape on the sofa along with his hat and sat, slumped, next to the pile of clothing. He tilted his head back, staring up at the ornate ceiling. To say he was exhausted after all the travelling would be an understatement, but his sleep quality continued to be a mess. The baroque details on the wallpaper seemed to sway and blur as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, but he refused to close them fully.

He didn't want to see those faces again - those empty eyes that stared at him, unblinking; expressionless. Even now he still couldn't fully comprehend what Baron Kelvin had done to the children kidnapped from the circus. All he could hope was that whatever was happening to these young women wasn't anything similar.

The scent of rich butter and chocolate suddenly permeated through the air, alerting Ciel's senses just enough to push the need for sleep away again. He blinked a few times as his vision came back into focus, and he stared down at the roll of pastry and cup of golden tea on the small table in front of him.

"I took the liberty of purchasing a pan-au-chocolat from the patisserie down the street," Sebastian's voice announced from behind him. "Today it has been paired with white peony tea."

Ciel grunted as he leaned forward to pick up his plate. "What did you find?"

Sebastian placed a stack of papers on the table beside his snack. "I met with each of the identified victims," he murmured as Ciel picked the papers up and began to peruse them. "Those who were not completely catatonic were, unfortunately, unable to remember much other than a vague recollection of the colour red."

"Red?" Ciel repeated, growing suddenly uncomfortable at the thought of a flamboyant grim reaper in a bright red coat.

His butler nodded. "When asked what had happened, some of them answered something to the effect of 'a wish was granted', but were unable to elaborate."

"What about the people who found them?"

"No one seemed to recognise them," Sebastian answered. "Or, at the very least, they did not want to."

The young earl's visible blue eye scanned through the documents, focusing on the sketches of each of the young women that had been paired with the notes, seering their faces into his memory. "Anything else?"

"All of the women were found either in or around the district of Pigalle."

Ciel lowered the papers. "In that case, we'll find answers in Pigalle."

A wry smile tugged at the corners of Sebastian's mouth. "I'm afraid simply walking through the neighbourhood as we are will likely not yield any results."

"And why's that?"

"Forgive me, sir," Sebastian said sweetly. "But a child and his butler are hardly the sorts of customers for such a place. We may arouse suspicion."

Ciel glared up at him as he took a bite of his pastry, as if daring the demon to beat around the bush even more.

"The night life in Pigalle is slightly more…scandalous than what we are used to seeing," Sebastian explained. "If we want to avoid such disreputable behaviour, then I suggest developing a plan before poking our noses in."

Pressing his lips together, Ciel glanced out the window at the cloudy sky streaked with oranges and pinks. It would be evening soon - too late to go out and investigate if they wanted to avoid the crowds Sebastian had implied. "Then we'll go tomorrow," he said decisively. "During the day, when we can 'simply walk through'."

Sebastian lowered his head. "An excellent idea, sir."