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Aster Vow	By : Elleyis Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 1134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler, aka Kuroshitsuji or any of the character there in. Black Butler is the property of Yana. I am making no money from this.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
On the morning of September 16, 1888 two envelopes and a small parcel were delivered by a special courier from London, England to an address Newcastle. The items were received by the Earl’s servants and given to the head butler for review.
~*~
Sleek and predatory eyes carefully scan the outside of the envelope.

Sir Earl Trancy

Trancy Estate

Blakelaw and North Fenham

Newcastle

England
The waxen seal is broken and a letter written on parchment is removed.
“Sir Earl Trancy, September 07, 1888 To my gracious benefactor and associate, as per the agreement stated in my contract to your Lordship, a shipment 175 crates each weighing 100 pounds, whose contents contain the following: Darjeeling Tea, Darjeeling White Tea, Nilgiri, Assam, is currently be delivered to your various estates and companies throughout the whole of France and Spain. As requested a special shipment of my company’s finest grade of, New Moon Drop Tea, has been sent to your personal estate in Newcastle. I trust you shall find everything to your liking. I am honored by your patronage to Harold Trading and look forward to our continued partnership.

Sincerely,

Harold J. West”
Hands clothed with white gloves set the first of the two letters aside and proceed to open the second.
“Sir Earl Trancy, September 07, 1888 Your Lordship I regret to inform you that in the weeks that followed my return to London, I developed a severe case of typhoid. The fever has long since passed, but not without taking its toll upon my body. I am afraid it has left me with a weakened constitution. Hence forth I am no longer able to travel your estate and can only conduct business via my proxies. “ Sincerely,

Harold J. West”
The suave gentleman simply adjusts his glasses then places a blank portion of the page before the flames of a gilded candelabra sitting on his chic walnut work desk. The fine lines of a hidden message began to appear on the aged paper.
“Concerning the matter of Ciel Phantomhive. I have met with your agents in London and informed them of my fealty to your Lordship. As per your instructions I have hired several more men whose characters are without question to keep the Earl under constant surveillance and not alert him to our presence in London. Though my illness has left me crippled I will continue my duties to you and keep an ever watchful eye over The Earl of Phantomhive. Any mysterious doings or actions regarding the Earl shall be noted and sent via a secret courier to you at once. Rest assured Earl, the Queen’s mongrel is well known for his cruelness and insolence. He is sure to commit an atrocity that even her Majesty will not tolerate. When that time comes you will be able to strike as you see fit.

I am Sir,

Your ever watchful eyes and ears,

Harold J. West”

Claude Faustus places the letters back in their envelopes and set them down. Resting his elbows on the desk he then crosses his hands together. It is evening and his master is fast asleep in his bed. There is no need to wake him at this hour. The butler’s wolf-like gaze drifts over the exterior of two small square tins no bigger than a palm. The signs of a sly smirk are hidden behind his coupled fingers. The deception is not lost on him but the turn of events his piques curiosity.
“Hannah,” he calls to his fellow fiend of darkness with a low serpent-like voice. The door to the study opens shortly after and the clever demoness enters dressed in her humble servant’s attire. She closes the door behind her and approaches his desk. Her hands are folded in front of her. Her expression is neutral but behind her placid countenance a tone of deception lurks. A slight bow is given and then she patiently waits for Claude to speak.
“No doubt you are aware of why you are summoned,” he speaks in a composed manner, “you were to see to Mr. West’s safe return were you not? Though it seems this is not the case.“
“The circumstances have changed, but the course goes as follows.” Hannah replies in her soft voice. “Mr. West is deceased but his wife has done what was expected of him. Surely there is no trouble.”
Silence ensues and nothing but the soft howl of evening wind outside the mansion can be heard. The candle flames slowly flicker in the dimmed quarters as the uneasy truce between the pair burns in the same manner.
“That human, she was rather fond of you. Tell me, did you intend make a contract with her?” Claude inquires.
Hannah’s soft voice is now accompanied by a subtle seductive lure, “I was merely doing as the master bade me to do. See to our guest’s comfort and nothing more.”
The butler’s unnatural hearing does not mistake the maid’s tone for temptation or lust. He fully understands the impertinence in her voice and continues his inquiry. “Yet you seemed attached to her nonetheless. In the garden did you not protect her? Curious that a demon would do so such a thing.”
She discerningly counters the spider devil in their little game of wit, “My only thought was of keeping the Earl unharmed. As a maid this is only to be expected of me is it not?”
Uncrossing his hands the dark butler gracefully leaves his chair and walks past his work desk dragging an index finger across the mirror like sheen of the polished surface. Stopping an intimate distance in the darkened quarters he casually slides that same digit underneath Hannah’s chin and tilts her head upwards so she can see his callous stare. “Then I suppose it would not trouble you at all to learn that she will be disposed of once her usefulness is over.”
Claude smirks when Hannah’s arrogance instantly changes into a hateful glare. A single finger becomes two and begin to caresses the roused woman’s cheeks. Leaning in closer to Hannah he tilts his head downward. With his lips only a hairs breadth from her ear he whispers, “Master orders are absolute. It is only expected that a butler perform the task given to him. ” His other hand slides down the maid’s torso and then curves around her back. In one swift movement the ribbon to Hannah apron is undone. The devil’s voice is low and aroused ”A tool that has no more use is only to be discarded.”
Hannah silently curses Claude but she is not troubled by his threat nor his insults. Inwardly she smirks. The game they play has but one outcome and she knows the true victory will be hers.
The candles flames burn long into the night.
~*~
Meena was mistaken. Hannah Annafellows did not desire the infatuation of men and women. No, the love she feels is of a different nature. The pure devotion of a little child sleeping inside her. This child yearned only for a boy with cream colored hair and eyes as cold and beautiful as ice.
~*~
March 23, 1889
Meena stood on the platform of a busy train station in the early hours of the morning. Beside her was a medium sized piece of luggage. Her train would arrive in ten minutes; She would broad it and ride it to the port in Dover on the Kent coast, from there she would cross the Straight of Dover and enter France. Then take the East Indian Railway back to Bengal for a short stop and leave to new lands.
She thought back to the days before. The road had led her to Branford where she informed the local police department of the attack on her way to London. Only the account of two thieves who were shot down by her husband before meeting his untimely death was recorded. His body had been wrapped with a black sari and taken with her to the town. A phone call was made and another carriage from her husband’s company was dispatched. A private funeral was held 2 weeks later and his body was buried in Lancaster at the burial sight of his grandfather and grandmother. No mention of it was ever made public. Only the closest of Harold’s kin was informed in the weeks that followed her return home.
The widowed woman did as she was instructed; She presented the ring and letter to Trancy’s correspondents in London. Eventually the executer of Mr.West’s estate read Harold’s will. Her husband left everything he owned to Meena. At first his family tried to contest the will, claiming that she was only his mistress, but the Earl’s agents made sure she received all that was bequeathed to her. A few false allegations of bribery and blackmail could change anyone’s mind especially went it could lead to scandal and financial ruin. If that failed a death threat could easily subdue even the most influential of people but the family was wise enough to understand who they were dealing with. His relatives never bothered her again.
During her time in London Meena was like a ghost to any she knew before. Prince Soma and Agni did not recognize her at all. One afternoon she had bumped into him during a festival. The young man only apologized for his carelessness and went on his way with his servant closely at his side. Even the oriental thug and his lady who first threatened her life took no notice of her when she passed them directly on Regent Street.
As an added measure of anonymity Meena West changed her identity, and it was reported that a new owner by the name of Cordelia J. Young took charge of Harold Trading. Lady Cordelia never made any public appearances. She was thought to be a person who valued her privacy; it mattered little for she was a gifted entrepreneur and her deceased husband’s company flourished in the months that followed.
Even with all her newly acquired wealth and status Meena was now a prisoner in the city that was once her freedom. Perpetually in the service of Alois Trancy, the Earl who caused her husband’s demise. Despite his treachery she kept an ever watchful eye on Ciel Phantomhive.
Months later a small package arrived with no return address to her home. Inside it was a cage with a small rodent. The little white mouse dug through a heap of wood shavings in the corner and out popped a golden ring. The clever little beast skillfully rolled it out of cage where Meena caught it in her hand. Attached to it was a golden lock of hair.
In the first days of March Harold’s Trading was sold to the sold to a new owner, the majority of the asset’s Meena held in England were liquidated, and her husband’s estate in London was converted into an orphanage. Meena entrusted its care to a most dear friend, a young lady of virtue and honesty who worked as secretary to her. With a generous fund supplied each year the orphanage would became a loving home for abandon children for decades to come.
The train pulled into the station and its billowing black clouds of smoke wafted into the morning sky.
“Madame, shall I help you with your bags?” A train attendant no older fifteen wearing his uniform stood next to her. He was tall for his age but lanky.
“Why yes,” Meena answered back. She showed him her ticket and then the young man gathered the leather carryon and escorted the lady to the proper cabin. The lad had never really seen an Indian woman before and found the lady’s long hair and dark skin rather striking. He blushed when she thanked him for his help. The woman then gave him one pound and he graciously accepted her generosity. “Thank you kindly, Madame.”
As he was about to leave but a tiny mouse scurried out of a small compartment on the side of Meena’s luggage where upon it crawled down from the overhead self and onto a comfortable seat cushion. The attendant gawked and spoke earnestly, “Madame, do not be alarmed. There is a rodent in your seat.”
Meena turned and glanced at the little thing who was busy making a cozy bed out of a red cushion. “Oh, never mind that, he is my travelling companion,” she smiled to the lad.
He furrowed his brow. “If I might ask, why do you travel with a mouse?”
“It was a gift from a dear friend,” she replied. “It’s quite the intelligent one.”
“Really?” he answered as he scratched the back of his head.
“Indeed. Would like to shake his hand?”
He found it highly absurd but the smiling woman’s countenance was genuine enough. So he held out his finger and the little creature stood on its hind legs. With both paws it mimicked a handshake it. The attendant smiled. When he removed his digit the little thing winked at him and curled up in its cushion. Meena giggled.
Perhaps foreigners kept mice as pets he thought. “Um, where are you and your travelling companion heading?” he asked wondering where a lady and a mouse might go.
She cheerfully replied, “Im going to back to India to retrieve my mother, and from there who knows.”
the end
- 13
- 14
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