Lilith smiled. From the darkened stone streets, she gazed up at the glowing window. It was the only one of its kind at this time of night, at this ungodly hour. Its faint glimmer stuck out like a sore thumb amidst a legion of homes insisting on the conformity of an early, well-ordered bedtime. Anyone else would have missed it. The lamp flickering in the darkness faded out of view behind the dismal streetlights, which cast their greasy yellow glow across the faded stone. The curtains draped gracefully, framing the weak glow of that lone window, like a lady’s hair obscures the true expressions of her face.
“Aren’t you beginning to obsess a bit?” a voice from the shadows behind her sneered. “Watching her window now? What’s next, a moonlight serenade?”
“Hello, Samael.” She said without turning around. “How is your new doll?” She sneered, “Or is this one just another puppet?”
He was suddenly before her. “What do you care!?” he growled.
Lilith laughed, cold and mirthless, “Care!?” She replied. “Why do you think I would ever do such a thing?”
He hung his head. “I don’t know...” he replied. “I know you never did.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you here?” She asked. “Why do you care whose window I gaze upon in this crazed and obsessive manner?” She indicated her own poised posture for ironic effect.
Suddenly, the man’s eyes filled with tears. His pallor intensified as though gravely ill. “Please, my dark mistres!” he cried “Do not do this to me. Do not abandon me! Do not leave me to the… everlasting night. My heart is yours, I am a slave to your dark power. I will do whatever you ask.”
“I ask that you leave me alone.” She said quickly, coldly, without hesitation, like a butcher's knife through livestock flesh. “I do not want your heart. I want nothing more to do with you.” It was objective, without emotion. She was not angry, she was not threatened.
He was an insect, annoying her with his whining. And she was a goddess.
His eyes widened, flashing with anger. “You will regret this!” He screamed. “You and that filthy little human whore twin of yours!” He pointed his finger in her face, drawing an inch too close for comfort.
With one swift, agile motion, she grabbed the offending appendage and snapped it back, so that in an instant he was doubled over, kneeling on the ground, his hand wrenched painfully backwards.
“You will not touch her.” She said, still gazing confidently at the distant glimmer of Cassandra’s room.
Suddenly, forgetting his pain, Samael began to laugh. “You’re right!” He cried as he faded into shadow. “I will not! But not everyone loves that little bitch as much as you do!” His laughter echoed across the courtyard... He was gone.
Sebastian sighed.
This was amusing... He had never seen a group of immortals so taken with one human…
Oh wait… He thought with a smirk of nostalgia.
For a moment, he wondered; should he tell his master?
He rolled his eyes slightly… he would have so preferred to see that offensive girl’s soul consumed by the pathetic, groveling likes of Samael…
Perhaps he would…
After all, what possible authority would attempt to govern his behavior?
He answered to no one.
No one... except Ciel.
And Cassandra was Ciel’s master now.
He rolled his red eyes again... He had to say something, if only for the sake of his own honor.
To allow this cretin to meddle in his master’s affairs was simply beneath him and felt cowardly, as though he could not dispense of this villain in with ease.
Why, the very thought was laughable!
After all... He was still one hell of a butler.
“Good morning, my young master.”
Fenris awoke slowly. Sebastian opened the wide curtains and bright rays of sunlight fell across the room. For a moment, he was Ciel again, and the events of the past year were forgotten. The color of the walls, the fragrance of Earl Grey tea and freshly cut roses pure as the driven snow placed beside his bed… the way the light fell across the…
…No… It was just an illusion.
He was Fenris, and for some reason Sebastian had awoken him this morning like the old days.
He sat up. “What is it, Sebastian?” he said, yawning and reaching for the tea. “I can awaken myself now, you know. Or have you forgotten?”
Sebastian smiled. “I have something I need to discuss with you, my young master.”
Fenris looked at him curiously.
“It seems your newfound mistress has a few enemies.” Sebastian continued. “One of them, a demon. Not a very good demon, but a demon nonetheless. It appears his mistress has a special vendetta against her and wants her dead. But what’s more, the woman he loves is quite taken with Lady Rowan. He is incredibly jealous. His name is Samael, and while he does not appear to be very strong, he seems recklessly driven by anger and passion, which might make him a legitimate threat, especially to the Lady.”
Fenris thought for a moment. “I see.” He replied. “But I assume you do not fear these two.”
“Of course not, my lord,” said Sebastian “Quite the contrary, I find their antics to be rather amusing.”
Fenris sipped the tea. “Well then,” he said “I want you to stay here with us at all times. Protect me and Lady Rowan. However, she is to be your top priority. Watch over us both and guard the manor. That’s an order.”
Sebastian bowed his head. “Yes, my young master.”
“Oh and one more thing.” He said. “Lady Elizabeth is holding a ball at the Phantomhive manor, the purpose of which is to raise awareness of your disappearance, with the hope that they will participate in the search she has recently organized. The invitation has been extended to all of London’s resident nobles, which somehow includes your mistress.”
Fenris nearly spilled hot tea all over himself.
“Lizzie!? She’s staying at the manor!? And holding a ball!?” His eyes were wide.
“To search! For you! Yes…” Sebastian said with an ironic smile. “The invitation addressed to Lady Rowan arrived this morning. Clara is, no doubt, still engaged elsewhere… so the letter was left at the door.”
Fenris sighed. “I suppose we have to go.” He said. “You will escort us.” He looked down at the floor. “She won’t recognize me…”
“Master…”
Fenris gazed at the flowered rug… Is it right to make her worry like this..? “When is this ball?” he asked.
“Tomorrow night, my lord.” answered Sebastian.
“Very well. Make sure everything is ready.” Fenris sipped the tea again. “And for goodness’ sake, see to it Clara doesn’t neglect her proper duties to the mistress…”
That night, Gwendolyn Whitney had just returned home from a long day of socializing. She yawned as she sat daintily before the fire. The maid brought her a cup of tea and she sipped it, allowing the girl to remove her shoes and stockings.
Suddenly, a shadow gathered in the corner and began to move closer to them. The maid’s eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and her face turned white.
“M-m-mistress….” She stuttered, terrified.
But within a moment, Samael stood beside the chair, warming his hands over the dying flames in the hearth.
“Hello, Samael.” Gwendolyn said simply. Her maid still stood trembling in shock. “If you’re quite finished scaring the wits out of my servants please tell me why you’re here… Go and fetch us some more tea girl.” Gwendolyn added, waving her out of the room. When the door had closed, Gwendolyn rose and locked it. “Now,” she said, indicating the chair beside her own and leaning forward conspiratorially, “tell me Samael, is she dead yet?”
Samael sat and gave her a comforting look. “Not yet,” he said “but she will be soon. I will see to that.”
“How?” Gwendolyn asked, pouting. “What are you going to do?”
Samael gazed into the flames for a moment, then looked at her tenderly and smiled, “Whatever I have to do, my Lady, in order to avenge your poor broken heart.”
Gwendolyn’s heart skipped a beat. He’s so handsome... She shook her away her thoughts.
I’m a proper Lady. He is… a bloody disaster. Her eyes met his for a moment, but she looked away quickly and gazed into the fire.
Suddenly a thought occurred to her. “What makes you so determined to help me?” she asked. “You told me in the beginning that she is our mutual enemy. How has she wronged you?”
Samael chuckled bitterly, “In much the same way as she has wronged you, actually.”
Gwendolyn looked at him, puzzled. “You mean…" He could see the wheels turning, and realized it might be too late. "...she stole someone you love?” Her tone was (in an eerily reminiscent way) not concerned. It wasn’t even curious. Indeed, he could see that envious sneer women get when their crush mentions another woman beginning to invade Gwendolyn’s previously serene expressions. He could hear the shadow of jealousy in her voice.
He had said too much.
“No, I…” He lowered his eyes sadly, thinking fast. “I have never known true love…”
It had the desired effect.
“Oh my…” Gwendolyn exhaled heavily, hardly bothering to conceal her relief.
Samael decided to go a step further for good measure. “Any woman who could occupy my heart would not be so easily led astray…” He gave her a sad, pointed look.
Her eyes took on an expression similar to that which one might display when one has just observed an exceptionally adorable puppy.
She reached out and touched his arm. “I understand…” she said, nodding comfortingly.
He moved forward in his chair, inching closer to her. “No one has ever understood me before…”
She took on that look again. “I do…” She whispered, leaning forward and taking his hand.
She was wavering on the precipice.
One more step…
He gazed into her eyes, “If I may say so, my Lady, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. A kiss from your rose petal lips would make me the happiest man in the world.” He reached out and gently caressed her face, drawing it close to his own. With no resistance whatsoever, she opened her mouth to his.
…and she had fallen for him entirely.
