Chapter Eight: Black Phantom Butler, Singing Siren Friend
The next morning, Frances, Sebastian, and Ciel were on their way to the new crime scene after reading the paper at the Townhouse. It was about a young lady with curly brown hair and brown eyes laying face up on the ground in front of a depleted looking building. It said she was the sixth victim of the "Romantic Phantom Killer" on account of the black mask and red rose he leaves behind next to the victims. Frances was dressed in a sky blue day dress with her hair in its usual braided bun, Sebastian was in his butler uniform, and Ciel in a green jacket with black pants, and a top hat with a green ribbon tied in a bow. The sky was a clear blue, the sun already casting its warmth around London. People were gathered around trying to catch a glimpse of the crime scene that Scotland Yard had blocked off.
"This is the sixth victim in as many days and you can't find the culprit, Abberline?!" Sir Randall demanded.
Ciel jerked to a halt when he heard that name.
"Abberline." Ciel whispered.
Frances and Sebastian could feel the rush of emotions that filled the boy from surprise to sadness, guilt, pain, pity, and anger.
"I-I'm sorry, sir!" A man with brownish-red hair, matching small mustache with a little stubble on his chin, and blue eyes stated.
"Quit being sorry and look for more evidence!" Randall ordered.
"Yes, sir!" Abberline saluted.
He ran off to do what he was ordered, passing by the three of them without seeing them as he rushed off. They watched him go. Ciel's guilt rose. He took a breath and shook his head, forcing a steely resolve. He gripped his cane tightly and walked forward.
"Still no results, Sir Randall?" Ciel asked with a smirk.
Randall looked up surprised.
"Phantomhive!" He exclaimed. His face quickly took on a scowl, "What are you doing here?"
Ciel gave a soft laugh. His smirk stretching further. Smugness radiating off him now. Frances shook her head. Ciel held up the letter from Her Majesty.
"The Queen has ordered us to investigate the murder of these women. You wouldn't dare go against Her, would you?" Ciel asked with an eyebrow raised.
Sir Randall gritted his teeth. He looked over at her before turning back to him.
"There is nothing for you here, Phantomhive." He sneered.
"Very well, then. Come Sebastian, Frances." Ciel commanded, turning away from the Commissioner with a smug smirk.
"Yes, my lord." They responded, turning and following after him.
Abberline came up behind the Commissioner and stopped behind him when he heard the name.
"So, the Queen's original Guard Dog is back."
"Then he's…" Abberline trailed off.
Ciel, Frances, and Sebastian walked back to the carriage. They took off again.
"Well, Young Master, are we going to see him now?" Sebastian asked.
Ciel sighed tiredly.
"We have no choice. He is the best at dealing with bodies, after all."
Frances nodded. She leaned against Sebastian as he held her hand in one hand and the other wrapped around her waist.
"Very true."
Sebastian trailed his thumb across her fingers.
*I take it you've visited him?* He asked her.
*Yes. Just once, but he did come to the Townhouse for my Damehood and Guard Dog celebration. So, I've only seen him twice since my return.*
*I see… And how did he take your resurrection?*
*He was surprised, of course. I think he will be as well when he sees the Young Master.*
Sebastian's emotions turned cautious and curious. She could feel his eyebrow raise.
*Do you think he'll turn violent when he sees the Young Master?*
She thought for a moment before mentally shaking her head.
*No, I don't think he would. I mean as a retired Grim Reaper, he probably knows that as humans grow we can cast pieces of ourselves off.*
*Just as you did when your parents died.*
She looked at him startled. He gave her a smirk.
*You became more open. You yourself said, your true self. A beautiful, accepting, unique, power radiating, singer, lover, life-fulfilling, stronger human than anyone I have ever seen.*
Tears filled her eyes.
"Se-Sebastian." She whispered, emotionally.
Ciel turned to them come that whisper. Sebastian smirked. He leaned towards her as she did him. Their lips met in a passionate kiss as they ignored the embarrassment from the Young Master. After a few moments, they parted with her gasping for breath.
"Sebastian." She breathed again.
He caressed her cheek with a loving smirk. She smiled lovingly as she calmed down. He removed his hand from her cheek, moving to take her hand in his again, the other remained wrapped around her waist. She leaned into his side again.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Undertaker's parlor. Sebastian assisted the both of them out. Frances gave her thanks as usual to which the demon nodded. They followed after Ciel who had already opened Undertaker's door.
"Undertaker, I'm coming in." Ciel announced.
There was silence for a moment as they looked around. There were less coffins than the last time Frances had been there. The one she had rested in was still there too on the right hand side. Suddenly, his eerie laughter echoed throughout the room.
"Welcome back, my Little Lord, Fearless Frances, Mr. Butler (He appeared to the left of them, seemingly melting from the darkness. A wide grin upon his face. The three turned to look at him. The Young Master and Sebastian with no expressions and their face while Frances had a smile.) Would you like to try one of my coffins today seeing as you are still alive? Frances looked most beautiful in the one she rested in." He said, pointing the coffin out with one hand while the other reached towards the Young Master.
Both Sebastian and the Young Master sent her curious looks (Sebastian also held a look of jealousy) and raised eyebrows. She shrugged.
"It was fairly comfortable." She commented, nonchalantly.
The Young Master shook his head with a sigh. Frances sent calmness to Sebastian.
*How many times must I tell you? I belong to you.*
*I know you do, however, I should be the only one finding your sleeping face beautiful.*
She mentally sighed.
*Such a jealous demon.*
He smirked mentally.
*But, of course, I am a possessive creature after all.*
She shook her head. His smirk widened.
"No. I don't know why you bothered warning me, seeing as I am still alive." The Young Master said.
Undertaker chuckled; a wide grin spread across his lips.
"Ah, but a piece of you did die, did it not, my Little Lord?"
The three of them stiffened.
"What do you know about that?" Ciel demanded.
"Ah, ah, ah." Undertaker warned, wagging his pointer finger side to side, "You know the price for information."
Sebastian let out a snarl. He was about to lunge, but Frances placed a hand on his arm, stopping him and sending him calmness. His angry red eyes snapped to her calm brown ones. His body instantly relaxed. He stepped back, allowing her to step forward. She did, looking at Undertaker calmly, yet imploringly.
"Undertaker, this is his soul. Please, tell us what you know."
"Hmm…" The retired Grim Reaper hummed, placing a black fingernail to his lips, thinking about it, "Very well. Since you protected me from being maimed by Mr. Butler, I suppose I will tell you what I know. (He paused. Their eyes followed him as he walked to his desk. He placed his elbows on top of it, arms crossing to rest against its surface, his nail tapping against it.) As humans grow, they are able to cast off pieces of themselves. In your case, you casted off the pain of your Father and the previous heads of the Phantomhives, the duty to your beloved Queen, which helped shape you into who you are, thus dying, or at least a part of you died." Undertaker explained, shrugging his shoulders.
It wasn't a surprise to the three of them. It was just as Sebastian had been told.
"…I see." Ciel said. After a moment, he cleared his throat, "Sebastian, give Undertaker what he wants for information of the women." He ordered.
"Yes, my lord." He said, placing a hand on his chest and bowing.
He straightened. He turned to Undertaker.
"A scholar, a bald man, and a barber, traveling together, each agreed to watch four hours at night, in turn, for the sake of security. The barber's lot came first, who shaved the scholar's head when asleep, then waked him when his turn came. (He raised a finger, his eyes closed.) The scholar, scratching his head, and feeling it bald, exclaimed (He opened his eyes, turning to the Young Master.): 'You wretch of a barber, you have waked the bald man, instead of me!'."*
Undertaker's loud laughter echoed throughout the shop. He clutched at his stomach as he continued to laugh. Frances held a hand over her mouth as she giggled. Sebastian glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. A smug smirk grew upon his lips. Within her mind, she heard his purring. She smiled, lovingly at him. They turned back to Undertaker as his laughter died down to chuckles.
"Very funny, Mr. Butler. Now then, I suppose I shall tell you about the victims. They all had one wound caused by a blade to their backs before their fall to the ground, each time landing upright. Except for the first victim. She had several blows to the back with a blade before falling out faced upwards."
The three of them frowned.
"Hm. Why only one blow to the rest of the victims while the first victim got many?" The Young Master pondered out loud.
"I do not know, Little Lord, but I would suggest finding them soon for it seems they will not stop until someone stops them."
"Thank you, Undertaker. Come, Sebastian, Frances."
"Very well, my lord." They both replied.
"Come again soon." Undertaker cheered with a wave.
Frances waved back. They entered the carriage. After signaling the driver, they took off down the road.
"Sebastian, interview the families, find out the interests of the victims. There's a reason they were found three blocks from a theatre." Ciel ordered.
Frances nodded, "There must be. Usually a play has three parts, despite only usually one intermission. They must be tied to the theatre or like to sing and/or act."
"Look into that as well. See if any of the victims tie into the theatre." Ciel said, placing a hand under his chin and looking out the window, bored.
Sebastian placed a hand on his chest and bowed.
"Yes, my lord. Please, do excuse me."
He exited out of the carriage. Frances shook her head with a smile of amusement. They made it back to the Townhouse. Before Frances could begin walking down the steps of the carriage, Prince Soma stood beside it with a bubble of laughter.
"Frances! Ciel! You've returned!" He exclaimed.
"We've only been gone an hour, Soma." Frances chided with a smile of her own as she stepped on the ground.
Prince Soma merely laughed as he threw his arms around her neck causing her to grunt as she lunged forward slightly. She turned in his arms and returned the hug.
"Let me help Ciel." She whispered.
"Okay."
He released her with a bright smile. She turned to the carriage and held out her hand. Ciel took her offered hand and climbed down the steps. He was only on the ground for a second before he was covered in blue robes as the Prince hugged him. Ciel grunted in annoyance, but didn't say anything. Frances smiled as she watched Prince Soma hug and sway the boy. Agni came out. He too wore a smile. He bowed before them.
"Namaste ji."
"Hello again, Agni." Frances greeted.
"Any leads on the… crime?" He asked, flinching slightly.
"A few. Sebastian's looking into them now." She answered.
He nodded.
"Shall I make some tea?"
Frances looked over at Ciel and Soma to see the Prince had an arm around Ciel's shoulder. She smiled at the disgruntled look on the boy's face. Ciel nodded. Frances looked back at Agni.
"Yes, please."
"Excellent. Let us head inside, shall we?"
They did so. Agni left to go to the kitchen. Frances led Ciel and Prince Soma to the drawing room.
"After tea, I want to show you around!" Soma exclaimed, excitedly.
"Very well." Ciel muttered.
"It is so good to have you back, Ciel! We have all missed you."
"Yes." Ciel agreed.
Prince Soma smiled brightly. He continued talking about how he cleaned the entire Townhouse with his own two hands and how his fingers turned all wrinkly, how he gets all sweaty when working outside, and how he helps serve the less fortunate twice a week and how much he likes it. A few minutes later, Sebastian walked in with Agni. Agni served them tea, except for Prince Soma.
"My Prince, let us go to the dining room."
"But…"
He looked at Ciel then Frances who gave him a small smile and nod. He let out a sigh.
"Fine."
He got up from his chair.
"Thank you." Frances said, gently.
He nodded.
"But, I wanted to show Ciel around the Townhouse." He pouted.
Ciel sighed, placing two fingers to his temple.
"I will look around once this case has finished. Besides, it's not like I haven't seen your work before." He muttered the last part quietly.
Prince Soma instantly brightened.
"I'm holding that to you!" He smiled.
He walked out of the drawing room with Agni following behind him. The door closed softly behind them.
Ciel took a sip of his tea. He lowered it afterward. He looked up at his butler.
"Well, Sebastian, tell us your findings."
"According to the young ladies' families, the young ladies liked to sing, however, the first young lady Avery Kieas was actually in an opera called 'Doris'* which is to open in two days' time at The Lyric Theatre. Also, each of the ladies were out around two in the morning on the nights they were killed."
Ciel hummed. Frances frowned.
"I suppose we should take a trip to The Lyric Theatre. Sebastian, ready the horses."
"Yes, my lord."
Sebastian smirked as he left to ready the new horses. A few minutes later, the three of them were traveling to The Lyric Theatre. Once they arrived, Frances smiled at the building. It was a little small, but still nice looking with reddish-brown brick, white accents, and a blue roof. The three of them exited out of the carriage. They entered the building. Frances closed her eyes as music washed over her. A light hum of happiness surrounded her along with a warbling/purring noise coming from the demon within her mind. She reopened her eyes to see him smiling at her. She smiled back, yearning to hold his hand. He yearned to hold her hand as well. Their hands tingled at the same time. They looked at their hands in surprise. Their hands had never tingled when they were near each other before. Perhaps because they were more… connected… They looked up at one another with smiles gracing their lips. They continued to walk to the theatre entrance where the music emanated from. On their walk to the entrance, they passed a sign reading: Debuting as Doris: Georgette Vise. Sebastian once again opened the door to which Frances gave her thanks. He inclined his head. They made their way to the stage where several young ladies and gentlemen wore ballgowns and suits with matching masks. A woman in white and silver sat in a silver throne with black backing.
Chorus: … of untold price, cloths~~ of untold price at your feet we lay this happy day~~. Gold from Afric's sand~, silver… *
"Excuse me!" Snapped a harsh voice.
The Young Master, Sebastian, and Frances turned to see a portly man in a dark brown suit with greying brown hair slicked back, brown eyes, and brown dress shoes looking at them disgruntled.
"This is a closed rehearsal!" He snapped, walking towards them.
"Ah, you must be the director." The Young Master smoothly said.
"Yes?" The man asked, irritably.
"I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive. (He gestured to Frances.) This is Lady Frances Harkness. We have come on behalf of Her Majesty, please excuse our interruption."
The man's eyes widened. They returned to normal as they met in the middle of the theatre. The Young Master held out his hand for the man.
"My apologies, Lord Phantomhive (He looked at Frances.), my Lady (She inclined her head.). (He returned his gaze to the Young Master.) Aaron Trivon at your service (He took the Young Master's hand and gave it a shake. They released right after. He held out his hand towards Frances who took it. He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss upon it. He released it right after.) What can I do for you two?"
"Is there some place we can talk?" The Young Master asked.
"Of course." Aaron Trivon said, gesturing them forward.
Frances smiled as she looked at the stage, reminiscing about the time she was once upon it. She looked away, focusing on the task at hand. They entered a door on the left. It was an office with brown furnishings, programs of the production of Doris, and paperwork. Mr. Trivon sat in the chair. A sigh escaped him. He took a handkerchief and wiped his head, pulling his collar. He gestured to the chairs in front of him.
"Please, take a seat."
The Young Master sat in the chair.
"Now, what can I help you with, my lord?" Mr. Trivon asked.
"Do you know a young lady by the name Charline Evergreen?" The Young Master asked.
Mr. Trivon nodded with sadden eyes, "Yes, I've heard."
"She was your lead, correct?" Sebastian asked.
He nodded, rubbing a hand over his face emotionally.
"She was. Are you three on the case as well?"
The Young Master raised an eyebrow.
"We are indeed. Have you spoken to someone regarding her death?"
He nodded.
"Yes. I spoke with Scotland Yard when she showed up dead. (He looked at Sebastian.) I'm sorry, who are you?"
Sebastian bowed with a hand on his chest.
"Sebastian Michaelis. Butler to Lord Phantomhive and Lady Harkness."
He straightened. Mr. Trivon nodded.
"Did they speak to anyone else besides you?" The Young Master asked.
"Yes, David Benton and Georgette Vise."
"And their relationship between them?" The Young Master and Frances asked at the same time.
Frances could feel the slight shock from Ciel as it was the first time they had spoken the same words at the same time, though he didn't show it.
"David Benton plays Martin Bolder, Doris' love interest. They hit it off rather well. They had a few dates after rehearsals. Georgette Vise was her understudy."
"Were they close?" Frances inquired.
The man shrugged.
"Not particularly, but they don't hate each other, if that is what you're implying."
She shook her head.
"Not at all."
They were all silent for a few minutes.
"We will need to speak to your cast and crew as well as Mr. Benton and Miss. Vise." The Young Master stated.
Mr. Trivon nodded.
"Very well. But, we open in two days so can we make this quick?"
The Young Master smirked.
"Of course."
The four of them exited out of the office. They made their way to the stage. Mr. Trivon turned to the conductor and gestured for him to cut the music. He did so. The performers on stage stopped dancing. The cast turned to the director.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please bear with me a moment. This is Lord Phantomhive and Lady Harkness of The Queen's Guard Dog and their butler Sebastian Michaelis. They are here to ask all of you questions regarding Charline Evergreen, so please answer them. Thank you."
The cast and crew chatted amongst themselves in wonder, worry, and disbelief. The three of them got to work interviewing various people. Sebastian spoke with David Benton.
"I still cannot believe she is gone. Let alone murdered." David said, running a hand through his black hair.
"Mr. Benton." Sebastian stated.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Yes, we went out on a couple of escorted dates by her maid Vanessa and my butler Liam. We went to get tea, have a horseback ride through the countryside, I serenaded her a few times."
The Young Master chatted with another man with blonde hair and green eyes.
"Yes, I know Charline. I loved her like a sister. She was such a bright star. Her voice was like an angel. She could actually be a character. It's hard to find people who can be the character."
Frances talked with Georgette Vise.
"We just thought she was nervous. I can't believe she's gone."
"Why?"
"She was under a lot of pressure. I mean we are two days away from opening and we are not as perfect as we can be."
"I'm sure that's not true. I saw you all dancing and singing. It was lovely."
She snorted slightly.
"Tell that to our manager. (Her eyes looked at Aaron Trivon. Frances followed her gaze. Georgette's gaze returned to her. Frances looked back at her. Georgette leaned closer to her, lowering her voice slightly.) He is such a perfectionist; it isn't even funny. He had me repeat the same move and sing the same verse over and over again at least thirty times before he deemed it worthy."
"I see…" She said.
Three hours later, they were finished with their interviews with the cast and crew. They returned to the carriage. Sebastian assisted them inside before climbing in himself. Once they were seated, the Young Master tapped the roof. They rolled forward, heading to the Townhouse. They began to discuss their findings.
"It seems we have a few suspects and though it has nothing to do with the Underworld, it will be fairly simple to dispatch them. Especially, with the right bait." The Young Master stated, glancing at Frances, a smug smirk upon his lips.
Frances and Sebastian shared equally smug smirks.
In the early morning, the air was slightly warm with bright moonlight shining through the dark sky as it was a little more than three quarters full. The candles in the streetlamps flickered softly. Frances walked down the streets passing a wall the read: Doris: A comedic Opera staring Edward Waters and Natalie Portman, Georgette Vise and David Benton. She wore a light purple day dress and brown boots. Her hair was pinned half up as the other half cascaded down her back. A purple Corncockle pinned on the right corner of her pinned up hairdo. She began to hum softly. After a few minutes, her humming turned to singing.
Frances: …Bright the road~ of life~~ before me, future with bright prospect blessed~~. Fear for thy dear life creeps o'er me, and with doubts I am oppressed.
Frances/Mysterious Voice: My heart (She stopped as the mysterious voice sang with her. She looked around.) was al~~~ways~~ thine~~~, my heart was al~~~ways~~ thine~~~!
She turned to her left. There was a building there. And within the doorway, a shadowed figure stood. The person beckoned her forward. She did so. As she made her way to the building, the person walked backwards into the darkness. She paused at the doorway, took a glance around the area around her for anyone. After seeing no one, she stepped through the doorway into the building. She looked around again, yet found no one there. Her eyebrows furrowed.
Mysterious Voice: If I~~~ (Her head snapped to the second floor where the voice came from.) am dream~~~ing (She made her way to the stairs.) then let me never wake~~~ (She climbed the creaking stairs.); nor let reality away from me~~ (She made it to the top of the stairs.) this sweet illusion take~~~ (She looked around the room, entering it, noticing a door that was closed to the left of her and a large window in front of her.)! If I~~~ am dreaming, then let~~ me never wake~. My heart is always thine,
A person came up behind her; she could feel their warm breath.
"My heart is always thine." A woman's voice whispered, harshly.
Frances fell to the floor, her leg swung out. The woman gasped sharply, falling to her side. The knife she was holding fell from her grip and slid several feet away as did her black purse. The woman groaned and reached for the blade, however, she was stopped when Frances stepped on her wrist, effectively stopping her. The woman grabbed her foot with her other hand and pushed. Frances didn't even budge. The woman quickly realizing this, lifted her head and attempted to bit her. Frances kicked her in the face. She quickly stood over the young lady, grabbed one arm, quickly flipping her over, forcing her arm backwards.
"Let go of me!" The woman snapped, kicking her legs.
She had no leverage, however, so Frances was able to ignore her kicks. She summoned rope to her hand. She tied the rope around one hand, once it was secure, she grabbed the other hand and tied it behind her. With one final tug on the ropes, she effectively had restrained the young lady. She lifted her up to stand on her feet just as Sebastian had placed the Young Master upon the ground after entering through the window. The young lady with brown hair and brown eyes glared at the two in front of her. She wore a brown dress with black boots.
"Well, well, Bendette Larkson, what are you doing out so late?" The Young Master asked with a smirk.
"None of your business!" She snapped.
The Young Master merely raised an eyebrow.
"You are killing innocent women."
"They all deserve it! I was supposed to play Doris! Then that stupid girl just walks in not even on the days of the auditions and Mr. Trivon makes her Doris! Telling me how perfect she was, how she actually became the character, and making me part of the ensemble! THE ENSEMBLE!"
"What of all those other girls?" The Young Master inquired.
She looked at him with hateful eyes.
"They were after the lead as well, just like this bog-standard (Bendette Larkson jerked her shoulder towards Frances. Sebastian's face darkened; a low growl escaped him. Frances sent him calmness. He calmed down just slightly, but still had the glare.). I had to stop them as I am meant for the lead. I am absolutely perfect for the lead." She whispered the last sentence quietly trying to look behind her at Frances, "I was perfect to lure you in, right?"
"Your voice is beautiful, Miss. Larkson." She complimented.
Her eyes dropped.
"But, not perfect?" She asked, "I even placed the mask and rose to throw you!"
"It's not about perfection. (She lifted her eyes to Frances'.) The director might not have seen it, but you are talented, Miss. Larkson." Frances said.
The young lady stared at her wide-eyed.
"She's correct, Miss. Larkson, and besides, you are the lead. The lead of your own life. And now, you will pay for you actions." The Young Master stated.
The young lady's eyes widened.
"…Perhaps you are right. Though someone will try to take that as well…"
The three of them exchanged exasperated looks.
"Well, this case is now closed. We shall deliver her to Scotland Yard. They can determine what to do with her."
They took her to Scotland Yard. Abberline looked at them with a gaping mouth.
"You caught the person behind the crimes?!" The man shouted.
The Young Master smirked.
"But, of course. (There was a pause as Abberline continued to gap at him. The Young Master sighed.) Shouldn't you be taking her now?" He asked in a monotonous/annoyed voice.
He snapped out of his stupor.
"Of course. (He turned to two men that were behind him.) Take her to interrogation."
"Yes, sir!" The two men saluted.
The two men took the woman away.
"Did she tell you why?"
"She was jealous of the woman who received the lead in an opera and was scared that others would take the roles she wanted." The Young Master explained.
Abberline frowned.
"I see. (He paused.) Very well." He said with a nod, "Thank you, Earl."
"Of course. Have a good night, Inspector." The Young Master stated, turning from the man, "Come, Sebastian, Frances."
"Very good, my lord." Sebastian said.
"Yes, Young Master." Frances said.
The two of them followed after him. They returned to their carriage which was taking them back to the manor. Frances thought back to earlier that day.
Frances interviewed Bendette Larkson.
"Yes, I know Charline Evergreen. She was a good singer and actress. She was able to become the character which is amazing! Not everyone has that talent, only a once in a million people have it (Her eyes followed someone who walked behind Frances. Frances glanced out of the corner of her eye to see it was the director. She could feel there was something from the young lady. The look of angry betrayal confirmed it. They returned their gazes to one another.). It is just a show to them. A chance to be someone else for a moment before they return to their boring selves."
"I see. You seem to enjoy being on the stage."
"I do, but I still have a way to go before being the character."
Frances heard the harsh distaste in her voice. She continued back with her questions of where she was during the time of the murders to which she answered heading home.
When they finished with the interviews and climbed into the carriage to discuss their findings, Frances informed them of her conversation with Bendette Larkson and her feelings.
"I believe there is some hatred towards the director. Perhaps even a lover's quarrel. I believe she is still jealous of Charline Evergreen and envious of her because of her ability to be a character."
Ciel and Sebastian told of their suspicions as well thinking it may be Georgette Vise also due to jealousy and a few other young ladies for the same reason.
Frances came back to the present as they continued through the forest. They finally arrived at Phantomhive Manor. Sebastian opened the carriage door and stepped out. He turned to assist the Young Master then Frances out. They made their way to the front door as Sebastian paid the carriage driver. He quickly caught up to them to open the front door for them.
"At least that didn't take as long as it usually does. (The Young Master yawned as they walked through the door. Frances nodded her thanks. He nodded back.) Bloody tired."
Frances nodded.
"True."
They climbed up the stairs. When they reached her room, she stopped at her door and turned to Ciel.
"Good night, Ciel. Sleep well."
He stopped one foot ahead of her.
"Good night, Frances. (He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder with a smirk.) You did excellent work tonight."
She looked at him with surprise for a moment before a smile graced her lips.
"Thank you."
He gave a sharp nod. He continued walking down the hall. Sebastian opened the door for her.
"My Lady."
"Thank you, Sebastian. (She leaned up and kissed his lips in a quick yet loving kiss. He kissed her back, a warble escaping him. She pulled away with a loving smile.) I'll see you soon."
He smirked at her.
"Indeed."
She walked through her open doorway into her room. She heard the door closed right after. She felt his presence go down the hall. She took the purple Corncockle and the pins from her hair, allowing the rest to fall down her back. She shook her hair out slightly. A yawn escaped her lips which she covered with her hand as she made her way to the bathroom. She placed her pins in the drawer, but kept the Corncockle. She exited out of the bathroom. She walked to her vase of roses and the first purple Corncockle that she received. She placed it on the other side with the smile on her lips.
*Now I have a matching set!* She thought, happily as she brushed her fingers lightly over the flowers.
She turned away. She made her way to her dresser where she pulled out a white nightgown. She changed out of her dress, placing it in the basket and into her nightgown. She had just laid down when she felt his presence again. He knocked then entered the room without waiting for her response as usual. Her eyes met his. A smirk was upon his face. His black blur moved quickly and in the next second, she was within his arms. She hummed happily in pleasure, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head into his black cloth covered chest. The demon gave her a soft kiss upon her forehead. Suddenly, he rolled her over. His body hovered over hers. His red eyes staring deeply into her brown ones.
"You miss being on stage." He stated, his hands running up and down her sides.
"Sometimes." She admitted, her hands reaching up to cup his cheeks, moving his long bang out of his face, "But, I am more content with what I have been given and with what I have been able to contribute. As I've said before, I have no regrets. Besides, (She flipped him over so that she was now hovering over him. He smirked at her.) I enjoy singing the songs of the past and future only for you (She paused as she ran her hand down his cheek. He closed his eyes in pleasure.) and the people I love, including myself."
His smirk widened. He cupped her right cheek.
"My singing siren." He murmured, pulling her into a kiss.
She returned the kiss with equal passion. After a few minutes, they parted with her gasping. He relished in her gasps. He used her distraction to flip her over so he was hovering over her once again. His hands ran up and down her sides and stomach. After the fourth time, his hands cupped her breasts causing her to make a come-hither whimper. He closed his eyes at the sound, his warbling/purring started. They reopened their eyes and met with one another, seeing the lust, passion, and love within. The demon's eyes flashed. They spent the night in a fiery passion.
*Joke was found on shannonselin (website. It wouldn't let me add the www and com, but still wanted to give credit to the website.).
*'Doris' belongs to Alfred Cellier with a libretto by B.C. Stephenson
*"Black Swan" belongs to Darren Aronofsky, Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, and John J. McLaughlin
*"The Phantom of the Opera" belongs to Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber and Charles Hart.