"Wake me when we get to Oxford," Ciel grumbled, immediately plopping down on the plush bench of the first-class compartment and tilting his top hat over his eyes. "I'm going to sleep."

"Certainly, my lord. Rest well," Sebastian bid him, settling on the opposite seat and turning his attention to the window.

It was a Thursday morning at the South Western railway. The air tasted of coal smoke and the tang of iron. It was loud with the chatter of humans and the softer discourse of pigeons, as at-home in the eaves as they would be in the cliffs of Norfolk. The train station was perhaps just a bit less busy than usual, seeing as tomorrow was Good Friday and there was no great want to travel far from one's favorite church. But still the city must function, goods must be delivered, and so for most of London's population life did not slow, and the sweet, high voices of the beggar children with their baskets of flowers and mandarin oranges rang about the terminal.

And then, with a sharp chugging motion, the train was off and on its way to Oxford. Ciel was jerked a bit with the initial rhythm but was soon lulled by it. He breathed the steady breaths of the sleeping. Sebastian too was able to drop his guard, but for the very opposite reason: Ciel relaxed because he knew he was looked-after, and Sebastian relaxed because he went unobserved by the one being whose judgment mattered — whose judgment, in fact, needed to matter less.

It would be a three-hour trip, and in many ways all too short. Mainly, Ciel's sleep schedule had not been revised — if anything it had worsened. When Sebastian had awoken the boy at 10:30 on Tuesday morning, he'd been fixed with such a glare that Sebastian almost forgot the two had been peaceful just the night before. The contract mark spangling that purple eye seemed to glow extra brightly with disdain.

"I barely slept," Ciel snarled, tightening the covers around his body. "I was tossing and turning for hours. I finally managed to fall asleep just as the sky was getting lighter. I'm going back to bed."

"Sir, Ms. Hopkins will arrive at the manor in a mere ninety minutes. Surely you'll want to have breakfasted by then?" Sebastian tutted. "Come, come, sit up and open your eyes. It will be easier after you have some tea."

"Hnnnghh…" Ciel rolled back over, tucking his face beneath the sheets.

"It's chai tea, to put a spring in your step. A pinch of cinnamon in the brew will help with the fatigue as well."

Ciel was adamant. "Another half an hour. I can be ready by then."

Sebastian turned towards the door. "If you wake up now, you'll have less trouble drifting off tonight. Now, I'm going to fetch your breakfast, so please do your best to have risen by then. It is the early bird who gets the worm, but the surly bird will never be satisfied, so he may as well get the day over with, hmm?"

"Shut up."

When Sebastian came back with the trolley, Ciel's eyes were shut with rest again, and he was just as grumpy about the second rousing, if not more so. Breakfast was eaten drowsily, with no discussion. Afterwards Sebastian dressed the boy almost as though he were a doll, tugging the simple attire over his master's limp frame. He was clothed in merely a white button-up shirt tucked into blue short trousers, Y-back bracers fastening them over his shoulders. This light, single-layered outfit would make it easier for Nina to take her measurements.

"Nina did like working in the drawing room last time, so I've set up a space for her in there," Sebastian said, loudly enough to register in the boy's half-awake brain. "You can wait for her there, if you so wish… Open your eyes, now, I've finished lacing your shoes. That means on your feet, young master." Ciel slouched up from the bed, eyes barely open. Sebastian put a knuckle to his chin, grinning with one corner of his mouth. "My goodness, are you sleepwalking? Turn around now so I can tie on your eye patch. There we are. Ah, look at this, such long hair. Surely you'll allow me to cut it today? Last time I believe you asked me to let it alone, but what would your aunt think if she saw how scruffy you were getting?"

"I'm not 'scruffy!'" Ciel barked, swinging around. "You're being awfully bold this morning, do you know that? Shove off with the teasing already! I'm too tired to deal with you properly."

"Oh dear, my apologies," Sebastian smiled, bowing deeply. "I've gotten carried away, I see. Then, do let me know, is there anything I can do for you while you wait for Ms. Hopkins, sir?"

"You've done enough." Ciel yawned hugely. "I'll be in the drawing room. Goodbye."

"Yes, my lord." He opened the door for the boy, then closed it promptly to begin tidying up the bedroom.

Perhaps he'd laid on the banter a bit too thick. Sebastian had intentionally been bothersome in his mannerisms, wanting to portray an opposite person than yesterday, one Ciel could not see so much attachment to. Simultaneously, it was important to remember that he was a butler, and a butler did not go about mocking his master's appearance or lack of sleep all morning long. Neither parental comforting nor ridiculous pestering need there be: it was time to return to that state of bewitching gallantry Sebastian most represented.

"Ms. Hopkins," Sebastian said flatly, "just what are you doing here?"

He had found Nina walking about the first floor of the manor with her carpet bag as if she owned the place. Instead of being apologetic, she turned to face him with the sauciest glower. "Well, Mr. Stiff," she snapped, chin raised up, "you might recall that you yourself invited me to come at noon today. Or did that slip your mind already?"

"Ms. Hopkins." Sebastian did not hide his exasperation totally. "Of course I did not forget that you were coming today. However, for you to enter the manor uninvited… It is simply deplorable."

"For your information, I lowered myself to come through the servant's entrance — as is your rule for trades people, of which I am not — and no one was there to greet me!" Nina jabbed at him with her index finger. Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "Am I expected to simply stand there and wait for direction? Hmph! If anyone is deplorable, it is you and those gents you call a 'staff!'"

"Of course you are expected to stand there," Sebastian sighed. "It is just past a quarter till noon; if you had waited only minutes more, I or someone else would have been there to collect you. If this were your first or even fifth impression on the young lord, I should not find you fit to work under this roof again. I can only hope that someday your etiquette will match your talent with the needle."

"I'm not the one making the Earl wait now," was Nina's quip. "If you want to keep talking, by all means do, but I'm ready to get to work and I charge by the minute. And it isn't your hand that signs my cheques."

Talent with the needle indeed — her tongue was a needle. "Once you've swallowed that enormous pride of yours, you may follow me to where the young lord waits."

She was in his wake in moments, matching his strides though she was several inches shorter than him, her long skirts swirling around her ankles. Sebastian eyed her with his peripheral vision. At least she had followed one societal custom and was not flouncing around, showing off her bare calves and expostulating on women's rights. Male, female, to Sebastian it couldn't matter less, but as a diamond is formed through intense pressures, Sebastian too appreciated souls that strained themselves for the sake of decorum.

"You're growing," was the first thing Nina said when she caught sight of Ciel, sitting in an armchair by the window.

"Ms. Nina Hopkins has arrived, my lord," Sebastian announced wearily.

"Good afternoon, Nina," Ciel said cordially, standing up and pacing over to the duo. Nina had been outfitting Ciel since he was very small, and, for whatever reason, the boy had a place in his heart for this uncouth woman. Perhaps it was because she was very forthright with the truth: Ciel never needed to suspect her of lying, and, for the world's littlest liar in particular, he placed a high price on honesty. Doubtless Ciel also enjoyed how much of a thorn Nina was in his butler's side. "Yes, I am growing, which is why we needed you on such short notice. Thank you for making it here today."

Nina let out a dramatic sigh. "As always, Lord Phantomhive, I am at your service. But I'm afraid even my expertise as a seamstress can't help the fact that anything I make you today may not fit in just a few short months!"

"A few months? D-Do you really think so?" Ciel couldn't help sounding a little surprised.

Nina sighed again, putting her hands on her hips. "It's possible, especially if you take after your father and his broad shoulders. If you keep your mother's build, maybe not, she always was such a lithe thing…"

Ciel stood taller and lifted his chest. Sebastian smothered a chuckle.

Nina clapped her hands together above her breast, twice. "Well then, we'll just have to keep it simple for today so you have something you can actually wear, and we'll worry about designing outfits when we have more time at our next meeting. Now, now, up on the stool, chip-chop! Out with your arms, do just as I say, and we'll take these measurements in record time."

With Sebastian's aid, Ciel stepped atop the stool, obedient as a circus lion. Nina opened her carpet bag of tricks on the table nearby and began to lay out her tools like a surgeon with his scalpels. She turned over her shoulder to chat as she organized.

"And before I forget, while you have me here today, we should make the final alterations for your Easter outfit — I don't believe we ever finished up that session months ago. You'll be taking that with you to Oxford, yes?"

Ciel's eyes widened with realization and he clapped a hand to his forehead. "Easter! That's coming this weekend, isn't it? Good grief, I completely forgot!"

Sebastian knew Ciel cursed himself not for any religious reason, but for the patience he'd have to award Lizzie on one of her favorite holidays, which to her was a celebration of newborn animals, pastel colors, and sweet foods.

"I couldn't forget Easter if I tried," Nina shook her head, unraveling her measuring tape and walking over to the boy on the stool. "So many requests for Easter gowns and Easter dresses and Easter bonnets… There goes all my faille and taffeta, and right before the social season too! Ah, but can the lady help herself? If she wasn't married off in her first season, she's apt to spoil herself in her second. Poor unloved little sparrows! How I'd marry them all if I could!"

"Marry them all off, you mean?" Ciel said.

Nina clucked her tongue, pleasantly amused. "You are very cute, Earl," she fawned. Before Ciel could ask her what the devil she meant by that, she went on, "I imagine it's a relief to already be engaged. Courtship is an awful game. You should see what these young women put themselves through. It's a ridiculous society we live in, where people can't fall in love with whomever they want, whenever they want! To structure the ways of the heart is to structure nature itself. It's absolute poppycock."

"I wouldn't know," Ciel shrugged, then froze as Nina reminded him to stay still.

Sebastian went to the young master's dressing room to retrieve the Easter attire — a pale yellow vest and trousers, both with gray pinstripes, not at all the master's color but Lizzie held the reins here — and when he returned, the measurements had been finished. Ciel was sitting on the stool now, yawning into his hand, while Nina hovered over the table, ticking something off on a piece of scratch paper and muttering to herself.

"I knew this day would come," she finally announced, almost sorrowfully. "Your perfect proportions are no longer so perfect."

"It is hardly a thing to mourn," Sebastian interjected, after ushering Ciel behind a folding screen he'd set up earlier. "The young master has always had trouble putting on weight and keeping it. Perfect proportions mean little compared to one's health, wouldn't you agree?"

Nina glared over at him. "Mr. Stiff in his natural habitat," she sniffed, and turned back to her paper, shooing him off with a hand. "Now go help the Earl into his Easter clothes and let me at my task. I prefer to keep my work space clear of second opinions, thank you very much."

The vest fit just fine, perhaps stretched a slight bit across the torso but not noticeably, and the original length for the trousers was too short in the ankle, as expected. Nina's eye caught all these details and let out the fabric here and there, clamping pins between her lips and removing them to tuck into the butter-yellow folds. A white morning coat and top hat bedecked with a mint ribbon finished the crux of the ensemble. Nina instructed Sebastian to dye a carnation to the ribbon's exact shade of green to serve as a boutonnière come Sunday. "I trust you'll manage it," she said, "seeing as you have no passion for anything but servitude."

Sebastian smiled dryly. "You know me quite little, if you believe that to be so."

"I prefer believing it's so than to know any of your true motivations," Nina responded.

In that, the woman was admittedly wise.

Before the trip, Nina promised, the fitted Easter attire and three dress shirts would arrive by post, with the rounded club collar that suited the young master's neck so well, and two white dress shirts with high stand collars. Did the young master need a poet shirt? Maybe without too much lace in the ruffles, just one would be fine. Dress trousers in black, gray, charcoal, and navy would do. The Earl's vests still fit, but certainly he'd need new ones before September. No, she didn't know how to properly measure feet for shoes, but from heel to toe his foot was 24.6 centimeters, if that helped any. Finally, Nina reminded Ciel to think about which events of the social season he would want an outfit specially-tailored.

"With any luck," Ciel sighed, "I'll only be attending the usual Ascot and Trooping the Color — but I'm sure Lizzie will insist we go to Wimbledon and the Henley Regatta, too. I'll just have to hope the queen comes up with something for me to do before then."

"Let me know as soon as possible what your plans are," Nina said with a wink. "I'll be visiting you again at the end of the month. That will give me ample time to come up with some more creative ideas. Ciao, Earl!"

Sebastian led the way to the servant's entrance again to see her off. They walked in icy silence, until Nina said, "You don't need to follow me out. I know the way now."

"Don't argue it. It is merely my duty," Sebastian snipped. "Even when it displeases me, I can recognize as much."

Nina kept pace at his shoulder. "I'm not an idiot, Mr. Stiff, much as you might love to think so. I am a woman with pride in her work, and you of all people won't discourage me. You might think you know more of duty than I — perhaps you do — but I'll be damned if I ever show you deference. I am not your daughter, your wife, your sister, or your employee, and I am loath to believe you'd treat me this way if I were a man."

"Ms. Hopkins, your sex will never be the issue with me," Sebastian said simply as they returned to the kitchen and staff entrance. "You are far too forward in all that you say — that is the trouble. Though, in your defense, I was pleased to see that you kept your wardrobe appropriate this time."

Nina's eyes flashed daringly. "You really do think I'm an idiot, don't you? I've been in this business longer than the Earl has been alive. It doesn't matter how maturely he behaves — I've learned a thing or two about taking measurements from boys his age, and I don't need anything changing those measurements while I'm in the middle of taking them. Modesty may be a social construct, but arousal certainly isn't."

Sebastian lowered his eyebrows. Her thought process wasn't wrong, but he still took the opportunity to berate her. "You are exceedingly crude, Ms. Hopkins."

"I am exceedingly honest," Nina corrected, as if she could read Sebastian's prior thoughts. "You never were a child, were you? You were an adult the day you were born. The aristocracy must love you — you have no spite for them, you just accept all as it is. Well then, enjoy your life in the proverbial caste system. I'll be fighting the good fight elsewhere. Adieu, Mr. Stiff."

She left Sebastian in the kitchen, he equal parts amused and perplexed. All at once, she had so perfectly understood him, yet completely missed the mark. Nina Hopkins… no matter his opinion, one thing was true: she could not be underestimated.

Sebastian returned to the drawing room with another pot of chai tea and Welsh rarebit half an hour later to find Ciel fast asleep in the armchair. He woke the boy with his voice. "Young master, you'll find sleeping tonight very difficult if you nap during the day. I know it isn't easy, but it will pay off if you can keep yourself awake."

Ciel's uncovered eye cracked to an angry slit. "Leave me alone," he mumbled, swatting half-heartedly. "I told you I barely slept last night, so let me do what I want. I'm bloody exhausted."

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, then stopped himself short. Indeed, the boy was much grumpier when he was tired, but now that might prove more of a help than a hindrance. It meant Sebastian wouldn't have to try as hard to make Ciel annoyed, meaning Ciel would want to spend less time around him. So Sebastian left the tea nearby and the boy to his rest.

Tuesday and Wednesday evenings were more of the same: a futile attempt to sleep at night that had to be resolved during the day, thus leading to further insomnia. Over those two days, Sebastian had argued with Ciel over a hundred small things and rarely spoke in calm tones. The boy complained of headaches and exhaustion, and seemed to walk everywhere in the haze of one who is recovering from illness. When Thursday morning arrived, Ciel's sleep schedule was an unequivocal wreck. He'd yawned more than he'd spoken as Sebastian pulled him into his travel clothes at six o'clock that morning. And now Ciel clutched desperately at whatever three hours of sleep could grant him before facing the very opposite forces that were Elizabeth and Francis Midford.

Sebastian had only visited the Phantomhive's Oxford home once, a brick two-story building in the Gothic revival style, quaintly titled Peverel's Honor and located in the Iffley suburbs. It had been in the Phantomhive family for three generations, initially purchased when Ciel's grandfather attended Weston. The deed was technically still under the Phantomhive name and was therefore Ciel's property by birthright, but the Midfords used it a few times a year to visit Edward, and Ciel tended to refer to the house as theirs. The last time Ciel was in Oxford two and a half years ago, it had been to celebrate Edward's first semester as an upperclassman.

"It's a shame we're never going to be in school together," Edward had said slyly, when the boys were alone in the sitting room one evening. "It's perfectly acceptable to boss around the younger boys at Weston. Family or not."

"Is that so?" Ciel had responded in a matching tone. "So what you're saying is that you've been at least one prefect's doormat?"

"What? I-I'm not talking about me! It's just common is all!"

Ciel smiled like a fox. "I'd love to disrupt such a hierarchy. I would pay an older boy to take down anyone who tried to make me his vassal."

Edward had gazed at him hard, as if seeing the Queen's guard dog side of his cousin for the first time. "It's not as though they're bullies about it. There's a kind of camaraderie to the whole thing, really," he'd mumbled, and quickly changed the subject to Funtom's latest collection of glass marbles that he knew Ciel could get him for free.

In the present, the carriage stopped at the white front door with its shining custom knocker of a lion's head. Ciel pushed back the curtain a bit. "I can see Lizzie coming downstairs through the big window." Sebastian did recall that running just inside the front wall of the house was a diagonal stairwell that would put Elizabeth directly at the front door, and the marvelous two-story windowpane that made this view possible. By the time Sebastian had exited the carriage and opened the door for Ciel to step out, here the girl came, and not in a flurry of bows and lace but a champagne-colored tea gown with tight floral embroidery on the bodice. Her arms swallowed up her fiancé before he could give her a proper greeting.

"You're here!" Elizabeth cheered. Even if her clothing was uncharacteristically reserved, her enthusiasm was not. She pressed her face against Ciel's, knocking off his top hat, which Sebastian dutifully caught. "I was so happy when you told us you could come! I thought for sure you would say no… and I didn't want to get my hopes up until I saw you! But you're here! Oh, it's going to be such fun! And we have so many great things to do! Tonight we're going to a party, and there's the cricket match tomorrow, and then it will be Easter, and after that—"

"A-A party?" Ciel choked. He pushed the girl away gently. "Lizzie, don't bounce around with me, you're making my head spin… What's this about a party?"

Lizzie took one of his gloved hands in both of hers. "I'll tell you all about it — but the most important thing is that there's going to be a huge garden and something beautiful made of ice. Anyway, come in, come in! You've had half a day of travel, so you must be tired. You'll want to rest up before we go, won't you? Are you hungry, by the way? Hammond went to our favorite bakery in Oxford and brought back all sorts of local sweets for us to have at teatime. I do so love Sebastian's éclairs, but Pâtisserie Tropez does the most wonderful decorations with chopped pistachios!"

Ciel was then whisked indoors, leaving Sebastian to tip the coach driver and gather up the young master's belongings. At the entrance, he immediately caught Lizzie chirruping further from upstairs.

"Mother, Mother, Ciel's just arrived! Let's have tea now so I can show him the éclairs! Also, we must tell him about the party tonight! It's held twice a year for the families who donate the most to the school, so it's a very nice event. Weston's treasurer, Mr. Goode, holds the party at his manor, and you should see his topiary maze! Last year I made it to the middle and there was a glorious fountain with nymphs and dolphins made out of stone, but then I got lost on the way out, and Mr. Goode had to send in his servants to find me—"

"Elizabeth, please, I've told you that you must quit that habit of rambling when you're excited." The marchioness entered the second-floor sitting room just as Sebastian crested the stairs. Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and the corners of her mouth turned up just a bit at the sight of her nephew. "Well, well, good to see you've arrived in one piece, Ciel. I hope Lizzie hasn't filled your ears with so much chatter that you'll want a rest from conversation already." Aunt Francis raised an eyebrow, and Lizzie laughed sheepishly, brightly. "Let's have a seat, and why don't you tell—"

"Ah, there he is—!"

The second interruption was caused by Ciel's uncle Alexis. He hustled into the room next, brushing past his wife and seizing Ciel from his daughter in that same signature embrace. "Welcome, my boy, welcome! We are so delighted you could join us in Oxford! It's been quite a while since you were last here, hasn't it? Aren't we in luck that you could make it for Easter!"

"Um, it's good to see you too, Uncle," Ciel coughed out from beneath the sturdy arms of the British Empire's head knight. Once released, he seemed dazed. "I'm… I'm glad I could make it too. It's… good to be here."

"What a whirlwind you both are," Francis Midford sighed at her family. "Let him sit and talk with us. Where is Hammond, or Broglie? Alexis, go ring for them, have one of them prepare us some tea."

"Allow me to take care of that," Sebastian cut in then, "as soon as I've delivered the young master's luggage to his room, of course."

The butler's welcome was never as warm as his lord's, naturally, but Elizabeth did not keep her pleasantries in short supply. "Oh, Sebastian, how could I forget about you? Welcome back to Peverel's Honor! You were only here once before, right? Ciel will be staying in the same guest room as last time. It's just down that hallway to the right, do you remember which door?"

Sebastian bowed his head, hefting up the three suitcases. "Armed with your kind instruction, Miss Elizabeth, I recall exactly where. Do pardon my intrusion on your conversation. I'll return promptly with the tea and éclairs."

The king-size bed was dressed in winter sheets, which was fine since the air still held a chill on misty mornings. Sebastian laid out tonight's outfit and located a smoothing iron and board in the armoire. Then he went to where he remembered the kitchen and servants' quarters were downstairs, passing through the sitting room again on his way. Ciel was sitting on a Rococo loveseat next to Elizabeth, who was hugging his arm, while his uncle and aunt sat across, Alexis beaming and Francis reserved. Then she leaned over the coffee table that separated her from the children to touch at Ciel's hair, making some comment about its length or style, scolding him lightly. Ciel leaned away initially but then let her tuck a stray bang behind his ear, rebuked her opinions softly as she attempted to smooth it all down with her hands. It flopped back into place as soon as she let the strands go. Alexis and Lizzie laughed, and Francis pulled away, shaking her head.

Yes, thought Sebastian, surely this is where he belongs.

On Ao3, I have attached a map that shows the layout for Sedgemore House, but I'm not sure how to attach it here, so I won't.