black butler · victorian era · demon butler · dark fantasy · ciel phantomhive · alois trancy · sebastian michaelis · claude faustus · supernatural · rivalry
The dim glow of gas lamps wavers across the gilded walls of the Queen's private sanctum, painting long, shifting specters upon the stone. Particles of dust drift through the amber light as three figures stand in a taut, quiet standoff. Ciel's icy blue eye narrows from behind the black patch covering the other, his small frame rigid. Alois spins a silver ring around his finger, a sharp-toothed smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. The only sound is the low crackle from the hearth until Ciel breaks the silence, his voice crisp and clear. "This is irregular. Were either of you summoned here to receive orders?" Alois gives a loose shrug. "I was not. It's peculiar. Being instructed to come unattended, all the more so." In unison, they turn their full attention to you, you.