Chapter Text
With a confused frown, Tanaka opened the manor’s door; they hadn’t been expecting a guest this afternoon. He expected that it would likely be a servant or a vendor who’d forgotten to go around to the more private back entrance.
Instead, standing on the front steps was a well-dressed woman.
In a large, intricate canary yellow gown, embroidered with silver thread and shining with dozens of grey velvet bows, and a skirt full enough to be worthy of a royal visit, she definitely wasn’t a misguided servant.
“Hello,” she greeted with accented English. It almost sounded Russian, but deeper, more of a constant purr than an accent.
She was clearly a foreigner. Not only because of her implacable accent, but her skin was tanned a warm caramel. A complexion that was definitely not the pale cream of most English.
Tanaka briefly wondered if she was here for Prince Soma.
“Good Afternoon,” Tanaka greeted with a bow, knowing by experience that it was better to go along such things, until one knew what was going on, “Please, come in.”
She smiled at him, eyes crinkling as she tilted her head in a motion Tanaka inexplicably found familiar. “Thank you.”
Tanaka stepped aside, holding the door open farther to allow her entrance. Gracefully, she lifted her heavy skirt and stepped inside, dipping her head as she did so, demurely hiding her face as she stepped over the threshold.
Expecting to see a slew of servants and a coach in the driveway awaiting instructions, Tanaka looked past her into the front year, only to see an empty path.
How?
As if she’d read his mind, she answered his question, facing away from Tanaka as she inspected manor’s foyer “My driver left after dropping me off, if that’s alright? He knows when he has to return. I don’t like much hassle when traveling.”
Tanaka couldn’t help but think, your dress sure says differently. Anyone who wore that to visit an Earl quite obviously loved hassle.
Tanaka gave a polite reassuring, “Of course.”
All the while suppressing a prickly feeling that something wasn’t right.
Closing the door, Tanaka finally prodded at the specific details of her visit. “I’m sorry Miss. I’m afraid I wasn’t made aware of your visit. Would you be so kind as to explain the nature of your visit?”
She turned to face him, a quick, immediate motion, finally allowing Tanaka a proper look at the woman.
“Oh, right. Sorry. I forget you humans, don’t see auras. I’m Countess Yelizaveta. I’m here to discuss something with the master of the house. If you wouldn’t mind taking me to the Earl?”
She gave him a sheepish closed-mouth smile.
Tanaka frowned, looking at her with wary eyes trying to figure out just what was wrong with the woman.
The woman- Countess Yelizaveta- had dark hair, a glossy blue-black swirl of curls crowning the top of her head in a fashionable up-do. Her wide, round eyes were a dark color, too far away for his old eyes to discern.
Her nobility was not apparent in her features- she didn’t have a soft chin or fat collecting around her cheeks- due to her sharply defined face. High cheekbones, a straight nose, and hollow cheeks were carved from her face, more resembling a Venetian statue than a person of leisure.
She was beautiful. In an unnaturally still way.
A member of the merchant class, married into nobility, Tanaka decided, knowing that was likely the cause of her poor manners and odd behavior.
Tanaka bowed again, visibly pretending everything was okay, smiling politely, “If you’d follow me, Countess Yelizaveta. I’ll take you to the library, and ask the Earl to join you.”
She dipped her head in ascent, before following Tanaka. Her heels clicked sharp staccato beats as they walked across the tiled floor. Her footsteps remained even, more regular than the best drummer was capable of, despite traveling up the stairs in between.
When they reached the library, Tanaka held the door open with a polite smile. She floated inside, daintily tilting her head to look at the vast bookcases.
“The Earl will be with you momentarily. Please take the moment to find literature of your liking,” Tanaka said, excusing himself.
“Thank you,” she answered, her accent still implacable, as she walked towards a bookshelf.
With a firm click, Tanaka shut the door, finally allowing a worried frown to appear on his face.
How… odd.
--
The young Earl Phantomhive frowned at Tanaka, processing the information.
For now, they’d assume she was Russian, since her family name clearly was, even though her accent and skin tone spoke rather differently.
“Countess?” Ciel questioned, leaning forward, “She didn’t offer anything else?”
Tanaka shook his head.
The issue with introducing herself as a Russian countess is that, while the title held veritable weight in England, it meant very little in her home country. Most Russian nobles held that title. Which meant she could be anyone, a favorite of the Grand Duchess herself, or a forgotten inheritor in the back waters of Siberia
Any decent Russian diplomat would know this, and discretely flash some reassurance, a seal or a letter of recommendation.
It was basic diplomacy (the Earl was assuming the countess was reaching out to him due to him being the Queen’s watch dog, rather than a toy maker) not to mention etiquette.
This blunder, coupled with the fact she hadn’t announced her arrival several days in advance, an action edging the line of scandalous, had Ciel certain the woman had malicious intentions.
“And where is Sebastian?” Ciel asked. The butler’s absence was almost an afterthought, as the Earl mentally flipped through his list of enemies.
“Running errands in London, my Lord,” Tanaka answered.
Ciel nodded, standing up, reaching for his cane, and straightening his coat. “Very well. She’s in the library?” his voice was dry, but his fingers twitched around his cane eagerly.
Just before he left, Ciel grabbed his pistol, tucking the small machine into his inner coat pocket, knowing he’d likely not use it, but just in case.
Tanaka nodded, dutifully leading the way to the Earl.
As they walked, the Lord Phantomhive gave his orders.
“Inform Baldroy that no one is to leave the grounds without my express permission. When her carriage returns- if it does- I want that carriage driver. Tell Finnian to break its wheels if he had to. Mey-Rin should enter the room regularly; she might feel more at ease with another woman present.”
The two of them came to a stop in front of the library door.
“And when Sebastian comes back, ask him to make me dessert. I’m feeling peckish,” Ciel threw over his shoulder, while gesturing for Tanaka to leave.
After giving a short bow, the elderly man turned, leaving to distribute his Master’s orders.
Alone, the Phantomhive family head looked at the library door, unable to suppress the smirk that was on his face. This was much more fun than doing paperwork.
“Let’s see how this goes,” Ciel rolled his shoulders, “She could be telling the truth.”
The idea was amusingly ridiculous.
He hadn’t become the Queen’s Guard Dog by being an idiot.
Placing a pleasant smile on his face, Ciel opened the door, immediately spotting the woman. Tanaka hadn’t been lying; she stood out like a garishly bright chandelier amongst the deep, dull colors of the library.
The countess had been facing him, as if she’d been paying attention to the creaking wood as he’d gotten closer. Another sign she wasn’t a regular noble: those of the pampered, weak-chinned upper classes tended to be deaf to such useless things.
“Earl Phantomhive. Look at you, so cute,” she greeted with a coo, smiling brightly.
It was simultaneously the fakest and the most convincing smile Ciel had seen.
It made her dark eyes curve and glitter from the light streaming through the large windows behind her, yet, it didn’t emphasize any laugh lines, like this was the first time her skin had ever been stretching in such a way.
Ciel maintained his polite smile, despite her oddity, “Countess…”
“Yelizaveta. But, you, child, can call me Alani, yes?” she offered, stepping forward with a book in her hands.
“Thank you.”
Ciel didn’t offer her the use of his Christian name, in return. It was an utterly useless knock to the status quo to have her call him a title, but every victory tended to count in situations like this.
“I was just admiring your library. It’s quite extensive.”
Ciel clicked his cane, turning to look at the many shelves of books, “Those who understand the importance of knowledge hold an incalculable advantage over their peers.”
She released a soft laugh, a twinkling thing that warmed Ciel’s stomach, “Being intelligent doesn’t give you an advantage. It merely unveils new opponents, offers a harder board upon which to play.”
Ciel kept his eyes on the shelves, making himself appear at ease, “I suppose, I’ll concede to your point.”
She sighed, a high light sound, clutching a hand to her chest, “So polite, too. I see why he’s stuck around so long.”
Ciel looked at her with a confused expression.
What?
He shook it off, changing the subject, “Alani. I’m afraid I’m quite confused…regarding your visit.”
The Countess stepped forward again, an apologetic hum leaving her throat. Her hands fluttered all over as she explained,
“I apologize, Earl Phantomhive, for causing you stress. I think I’ve been rude unknowingly, but you must understand, I only had a few hours available, and it took a while to find you. He stopped sending me post-cards about a decade ago. You tease him about it once, and he throws a fit for the next ten years. Honestly, who is that petty?”
Ciel’s mouth opened, ready to ask what the bloody hell she was talking about-
When, Mey-Rin walked in, pushing a cart of delicate China.
“My Lord, I made you and your guest some Oolong tea,” the maid greeted.
After a brief assessment of Ciel (insuring he wasn’t injured), Mey-Rin’s eyes didn’t stray from the intruder.
“Thank you, Mey-Rin. Alani, would you like to try?” Ciel offered.
The Countess nodded, looking excited “Sure, the last time I had tea, was two centuries ago, the French Alps. It was so creamy. I couldn’t get the taste out of my mouth for weeks.”
Mey-Rin looked at Ciel with wide eyes, and Ciel waved it off.
He was so done.
The woman was psychotic.
It was fact.
The maid asked the woman a couple questions regarding milk, sugar, and honey, and Ciel took the pause to look over the Countess.
She was tall. Much taller than himself, and definitely taller than Mey-Rin; if he’d have to guess, she’d likely be around Sebastian’s atrocious height. However, while his butler’s height was emphasized by a lean body, made of hard lines and lean muscle, making him seem even taller than he was; she almost seemed shorter than she was.
Her body was made out of extreme curves. Her long, slim neck curved out to strong, broad shoulders. Not exactly masculine or unsightly, but definitely not the slim, drooping shoulders of typical feminine beauties. They spoke of a strength he’d seen only in Marchioness Francis and Mey-Rin.
Yet, her waist was small. Almost comically so. Her ribcage narrowed dramatically, tapering down to half its size, something rarely managed even by those young ladies of the ton, who tortured themselves with bone-breaking corsets.
It was odd, because even the Marchioness and Mey-Rin had to decide between having a lean frame or a slim waist. One couldn’t have both.
Muscle or beauty were the options and somehow the woman had achieved extremes of both.
“And you, sir?” Mey-Rin asked, gently shaking him out of his inspection.
“Two spoons of sugar and quite a few dashes of milk,” Ciel answered.
The maid nodded, handing him the cup she’d already made, expecting his answers, and then, she set a tray of biscuits and finger sandwiches on a nearby table.
She asked if they required anything else before exiting the room, stumbling slightly as she pushed the cart out of the room, giving a final look about the library, before closing the door behind her.
The countess stayed silent, stirring her tea as she watched the maid leave
“You have a good staff. Very loyal. It’s important that one’s subordinates remain on a tight leash,” she finally said, snorting under her breath as if she’s said something funny.
She takes a sip of her tea.
And proceeds to spit it back into her teacup with a disgusted retch.
Like an uncultured savage.
“It’s so bitter!” she cried, scrunching her face.
Desperately, she reached out for the tray of biscuits, shoving them into her mouth with a moan of relief. Her cheeks were puffed up like a squirrel as stray crumbs fell from her lips.
Ciel watched the display with wide eyes, wondering just where the hell this woman came from.
She slammed her tea cup down on a nearby table, glaring at it with her puffed up mouth full of biscuits.
Ciel took a sip of his own tea, warily, briefly wondering if Baldroy had attempted to poison them.
…
It was fine.
Actually, it was good.
It wasn’t quite as strong as he liked it, but still rather delicious. Earthy. It curled around his tongue with a warm, almost buttery sweetness. It wasn’t bitter at all.
“It’s sweet?” Ciel asked, not really wanting to continue this conversation at all.
She held up a finger, chewing her biscuits and swallowing them, before answering, “Not sure if he told you, but we process taste differently than you humans. It’s very irregular, which is why we don’t really try it too much. But I like to consider myself adventurous.”
Ciel blinked.
Again with the human thing…
“Pity,” he answered, unable to come up with a better response.
And Ciel wasn’t quite sure what caused it, what the shift was, but the woman suddenly took another step towards him. And this was the one that finally closed the gap between them. If she took another step, they’d be toe to toe.
Ciel, despite how much he hated it, had to crane his head in order to look at her.
And then, the woman reached out, stroking the pad of her thumb right over his eyepatch. Something no one had done. Had gotten to do. Except for Sebastian. Ciel suppressed whatever emotions were trying to express themselves, squashing them ruthlessly before they got a chance to make a sound.
“You have such beautiful eyes. Such a deep blue. How terribly unfair that he placed your contract on your eye,” she cooed.
How does she know? Did Sebastian… No, is she a shiagami?
Ciel attempted to jerk his head out of her grasp, only to find he was trapped in an iron grip.
She was still smiling, petting his hair, “He can be mean sometimes, no? That demon… Forcing you to hide it away, appear scarred. I’ll tell him off for you, when he gets back.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I know he can be intimidating sometimes, but he’s a huge nerd- I promise.”
Not safe, Ciel abruptly realized, that he was going to die, if he didn’t do something soon. She was talking in riddles in an attempt to throw him off and it wasn’t going to work.
He wasn’t the Queen’s Watch Dog for nothing.
While his head was still incased in her hands, unable to move, he still had his hands, and he pulled out his pistol, pressing the head firmly against her ribs.
“Let me go. Or I will shoot you,” Ciel ordered.
She gave him a confused look, before flicking her eyes down and seeing the pistol.
And then, suddenly, immediately, she let him go, letting Ciel stumble away, who practically fell over himself in a hurry to get away. He took several steps back, holding his gun firmly in front of him, clasped between both of his hands.
“Oh dear. Is that a gun?” she asked, squinting at him. And then, preposterously, she set her hands on her hips, and clucked her tongue, “I don’t think you should be handling that. You could hurt yourself.”
What in hell is wrong with this woman.
“Don’t move, or I will fire,” he stated, voice raising in frustration. He’d stopped being able to process the words that came out of her mouth.
Her concerned expression didn’t falter, and she took a step towards him, her huge skirt swung left and right like a bell.
“Stop,” he repeated.
She didn’t listen, reaching out for him as she took another step forward.
And then, out of options, Ciel fired, aiming for the woman’s slim waist. Knowing the bullet would probably miss major arteries and organs, though she might have some trouble digesting food later- she’d be alright.
And then his hands were empty.
Alani was holding his gun and displaying the fired bullet in an open palm, completely unharmed. “Look! You accidentally fired it. What if it had hit you?”
Ciel blinked. The pieces suddenly clicked into place, and he realized what she was.
Demon.
She was a demon.
He’d been talking to a demon.
Ciel stood up, glaring, as he took off his eyepatch, “It was aimed at you.”
“Thankfully.”
“Sebastian,” Ciel called, as he unveiled his eye.
There was a burst of light and soft wind.
Warily, Ciel opened his eyes to see Sebastian standing in front of him. The butler seemed irritated.
“Are you alright, my Lord?” Sebastian asked him, softly patting his clothes, checking for injuries. “You’ve had quite a fright, haven’t you?”
“I’m fine. Deal with her, Sebastian,” Ciel ordered, panting, adrenaline rushing in his veins.
Sebastian nodded, standing up to face the woman. “And you- was this truly the best first impression you could come up with?”
The woman’s eyes twinkled, as she pouted playfully, “I’m the Secretary of State, not cultural relations, Darling.”
“Regardless, you’ve had how many terms in the President of Hell’s cabinet?” Sebastian asked, crossing his arms.
President of Hell? The worst place in the universe is a democracy?
Wincing, Alani sheepishly admitted, “Six”
Sebastian scoffed, “One hundred and twenty years in office and you still don’t remember basic human social cues?”
“I tried my best, okay?” she dramatized being offended, placing a hand to her chest and another on her forehead, “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a proper vacation? Nearly a century.”
Sebastian cocked a hip and resting his weight on one leg as he crossed his arms. “Ironically enough, that’s about how long we’ve been mated. Though, I suppose I should consider it a miracle, you remembered something today, at least,”
“Ouch. Of course I’d remember our anniversary,” the woman said. Going silent for a moment, she looked Sebastian over, as if she was seeing something else, inspecting some invisible thing surrounding Sebastian, and then her eyes widened in genuine shock.
“You’re mad at me.”
Sebastian didn’t respond.
“Is it because I’ve been busy? Have you missed me?” she cooed, walking towards Sebastian with out-stretched arms.
Ciel watched with wide eyes, as Sebastian let himself be pulled into a hug; Alani wrapped one arm tightly around his waist while her other hand softly petted his hair. The demon butler let it happen, even lightly clasping his arms around her thin waist.
Ciel got the sense he was missing something.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, Ciel realized she was an inch taller than Sebastian.
With a slightly muffled voice from his face being pressed into her shoulder, Sebastian corrects, “Because you’ve been neglecting me.”
A soft whine, like a call from a needy kitten, came from Alani, who hugged Sebastian tighter, before pulling them both backwards. The pair fell onto a couch, flopping onto the cushions, and the sharp sounds of fabric ripping indicated Alani’s beautiful dress hadn’t survived the fall.
Sebastian still had a somewhat stoic expression on his face, but Alani had a soft, love-struck expression on her face. It still didn’t quite look right, but now it was less about the expression and more of how it fit on her face.
She climbed on top of Sebastian, settling herself on his lap with eager jump, a large rip in her skirt scandalously displaying her legs.
I knew she was a savage, Ciel muttered in his head.
Softly, she reached out and palmed his face, “I’m sorry for being a terrible mate. May I give you your anniversary present?”
Confused, Sebastian nodded.
She smiled at him, placing her other hand on his shoulder, as she whispered, “I’m not running for another term.”
Sebastian blinked, “You’re retiring?”
She laughed, playing with Sebastian’s hair, clearing reveling in his surprise. “Not permanently- I still need to support my mate, but… Yes, I’m going to pull out of elections for a long time.” The way Alani preened, she seemed so proud, as if she took great pleasure in giving Sebastian this.
Sebastian smiled, flashing his teeth, “I didn’t get you anything.”
Alani giggled, moving as if she was about to kiss the other demon, and that was when Ciel had enough.
Because, he was not going to tolerate such… barbarity to take place in his library.
“Excuse me,” he coughed, blushing furiously, clacking his cane against the floor several times.
Both demons turned, looking at him with slightly curious, mostly sheepish expressions, as if they’d completely forgotten about him as they went through enough dramatics to make Shakespeare’s head spin.
“Oh. Whoops.”
Sebastian stood up from the couch, lifting Alani to his feet as he did. They both stood in front of him, a united front, looming over two feet above his short frame.
“My Lord,” Sebastian bowed slightly, “Apologies. May I introduce my mate.”
“In human terms, I suppose I’m his husband,” Alani adds.
“Wife,” Sebastian corrected, “Remember, genders affect speech on this planet.”
Alani scrunches her nose, almost stomping her nose in irritation, “You humans have to make everything so confusing. Why the hell does it matter?”
Ciel paused, confused at what to say in response. “Nice to meet you.”
Alani cooed again, “See? Sebastian he’s so polite, isn’t it adorable?”
Sebastian merely looked at Ciel with a ‘why do you do this to me’ expression.
Ciel smirked, widening his eyes slightly in an effort to appear even more weak and precious.
Alani practically squealed, gathering up the boy in her arms, rocking him gently. She smelled like peppermint, strong, sickly sweet peppermint.
She petted his hair, “I’m sorry if I scared you earlier. All joking aside, I am a tad out of practice with current human etiquette. Commanding a war for fifty years will do that to you.”
Ciel refused to react, no matter how much he wanted to spit out his tea and spew it across the room at the idiotic idea of her being a-
“You’re the general of hell?” Ciel asked, his voice coming out faint and distant.
Sebastian smiled, clearly full of pride, “Secretary of State. Our generals only command certain sectors, she coordinates all aspects of our military.”
Alani waved it off, “It really is more boring than it sounds. Trust me. It’s not that great. Just a lot of meetings and staring at maps.”
Ciel blinked, “Okay. Regardless.” He attempted to get himself under control, smiling his typical host smile, “I hope you enjoy your stay at the manor. Will you be staying long? I couldn’t help but here something about a vacation?”
At the question, Alani jumped to attention, letting go of Ciel and staring out into the distance for a moment, but by the time Ciel sent Sebastian a questioning glance, she had already snapped out of it, looking at them with a frown.
“Oh dear. I’m sorry you two, I only had a few hours to spare. I’ve got to be getting back- I have a lunch meeting,” she explained, hands reaching out to affectionately squeeze both of them.
Alani looked down at her ripped gown, sighing, before snapping her fingers.
Suddenly, instead of that bright yellow gown, she was dressed in a clothing style similar to the reapers’. A similar thin black formal jacket, and instead of black slacks, she had a tight skirt that ended at her knees. Her shirt was a sheer, shimmery scarlet. On the breast of her jacket was a small pin in a bundle of small swirls, made from a dark chromatic metal that shone like an oil slick. Similarly, on her head, was a circlet of the same dark, oily metal, clearly a crown of sorts.
She smiled at both of them, blowing Sebastian a kiss, and then disappeared in a flash of blinding light.