Chapter Text
LATE EARL MORIARTY’S SON HAS BEEN TAKEN…
Lo and behold, there it was, written in bold letters scattered across the grey of the newspaper like mockery, like an admonishment. Or rather, like an affirmation.
Albert James Moriarty’s eyes traced the large letters lazily, a smirk threatening to reveal for he knew what these words truly meant to someone in his position. They meant everything was going according to plan. They were moving ahead of schedule.
But alas, as always, a certain variable had barged into the equation guns blazing.
“Just what…” A gloved hand slammed a newspaper onto the desk, sharp grey eyes all but glaring down at him “…the hell is this?”
“Language.” Albert admonished the woman in front of her, whose expression only grew more and more chaotic by the second.
“To hell with that Al!” Katherine Grey burst out in a fit of rage, her steel-grey eyes stormy. “Where the fuck is William?! Scratch that, how the hell did he even get himself kidnapped?! That man can take down three grown men at once!”
Albert sighed, placing down his wine glass. “…You always were too perceptive for your own good, Kath.”
“Albert James Moriarty, I swear to God—”
“It’s a trap,” Her friend answered hastily, cutting her off. He was in no mood to be pestered all day long. “You already know about the new opium break out. The upper-class nobles who are the culprits behind the illegal opium imports from India will never be caught as it is. So, we needed to resort to desperate measures.”
"By handing off Cinderella over to a group of thugs?" Katherine snorted, leaning back into her chair. There was a beat of silence before the young woman grumbled and Albert smiled knowingly. "…I'll round up the rest of those bastard nobles."
“Well, Cinderella knew his Prince Charming would come to save him,” Albert hid a smile as he sipped his wine. “What are you waiting for, Prince Charming?”
Katherine snorted, her gaze turning dark. “I’m going to chop off some arms tonight.”
“Disturbing, but understandable.” Albert conceded as Katherine slumped back into her seat, sulking and muttering darkly about rather disturbing ways she was going to torture William's kidnappers.
Albert took the time to properly survey the woman in front of him. Jet-black hair braided into a bun, and withering steel-grey eyes that could make anyone shudder. He remembered the first time he'd met the woman—at the mere age of six the girl's icy gaze had had him freezing, a sliver of fear snaking through his heart.
Even then, Katherine’s brilliance had been blinding, ethereal, otherworldly—
—demoralizing.
As his childhood friend whirled around to bombard him with questions once more, Albert’s face held an almost bitter tinge to it. Then and now, her presence had always been a wild card—and never more so now. And he knew—he knew deep down, that if those brilliant grey eyes ended up being a liability to the Moriarty Plan—it wouldn’t be him, it wouldn’t be Louis but rather—
—It would be cold red irises cutting her down himself.
Even if it meant banishing an irreplaceable part of him.
Keeping her so close was a decision that could very well bite them in the back later, and yet that was the only way they could make use of the person that was Katherine Grey to further their plans. Was there anyone in this country like her? Of course not.
As the only child of the infamous Marquis Charles Grey; the former Earl Grey, Katherine was at the top of this classist food chain—outranked only by the Royal Family. Why, then would they keep her so close to them, the very paragon of the classism they were trying to dismantle?
Because Katherine was a reaper, she was an angel of death swathed in the beauty of mortality. Her sheer brilliance, as a commander and as a noble lady charmed anyone that met her—and despite being nobility, she was greatly favored by the general populace of Great Britain.
Her influence over the nobility was not to be underestimated, nor was her steely intolerance of classist nobility. Anyone the current Earl Grey disapproved of, she would cut down in the name of her Queen. A skilled commander, a talented knight, a model noble—Katherine Grey was many things.
But above all, she was their childhood friend.
For all her bravado, for all of her infamy and her reputation, the first thing Albert James Moriarty would associate Lady Katherine Grey was with her immeasurable love for chocolates and any form of fighting. She was rash, uncouth, and foul—a vast contrast to the icy but dependable image of nobility she'd built up for herself.
Why the first time Albert had met her she'd been sitting imperiously on his disgusting brother William after kicking him into the ground. She'd looked up, defiant steel-grey meeting his and Albert had known—she cared not a whit what others said.
Of course, after he’d coaxed her off the crying William, she’d elected to kick his fallen brother once more. If Albert had bit down a satisfied chuckle, well that was only for him to know.
An arrogance befitting only one of House Grey, she walked imperiously wherever she went—the image of strength and victory. For Katherine Grey had never lost, and she never would—for that was her very existence.
An undeniable existence, far outstripping anyone who tried to compete against her.
A foul-mannered child, with an unrestrainable temper and a worrying addiction to solid chocolate.
As gleaming steel-grey gazed down at him imperiously, Albert smiled as her lips parted, her words a dark promise. “…Where the hell is the raid?”
Albert closed his eyes, smiling.
It seemed his dear brother William was going to have one hell of a rescue. Knowing Prince Charming, she’d stop at nothing to drag her Cinderella back home by the ear. Well, it was of no business of Albert’s—he was merely content watching these two dance around each other.