The Butler's Witness

The afternoon tea had been set for half past three, the silver tray gleaming with scones and finger sandwiches. Yet the seat across from Ciel remained conspicuously empty. Elizabeth Midford was never late. She was, in fact, famously punctual—often arriving a scandalous quarter-hour early, bustling in with a flurry of ribbons and apologies for being so terribly ahead of schedule.

Ciel tapped his fingers against the porcelain cup, the liquid cooling untouched. A tight knot had coiled in his chest since morning. Elizabeth had been absent from his message replies, and her usual daily visit had been replaced by a vague note: "Busy today! Will see you soon!" That was not like her either.

"Sebastian," Ciel said without looking up, "do you know where Lady Elizabeth is?"

The demon butler, who had been standing at perfect attention near the window, inclined his head. "I believe she was seen in the market district this morning, young master. She was purchasing several yards of lace and an unusual quantity of white roses."

Ciel's brow furrowed. "Lace? Roses? That seems... uncharacteristically domestic of her."

"Indeed. Perhaps she is planning something for your upcoming birthday." Sebastian's voice carried a hint of amusement, which only irritated Ciel further.

"I do not appreciate being kept in the dark, Sebastian. Go and find out what she is up to."

"As you wish, young master." But Sebastian made no move to leave. Instead, he added, "Though perhaps it would be more effective—and more gentlemanly—to ask her directly. The servants have reported seeing her at the garden gate over an hour ago, but she has not yet arrived."

Ciel's grip on the cup tightened. She was here, and she was hiding from him. That was entirely unacceptable.

He rose abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "Fine. I will go to her."

Sebastian's lips curved into a knowing smile, but he said nothing as Ciel strode out of the drawing room, his steps quick and purposeful. The corridor led to the east wing, where the conservatory overlooked the rose garden. Through the glass panes, Ciel spotted a figure in a pale blue dress, crouched among the bushes, her brown curls tumbling from their pins.

Elizabeth was muttering to herself, fussing over a patch of white roses that seemed to have been trampled. She had a large basket beside her, overflowing with greenery and lace. Ciel's heart gave an odd, unguarded lurch.

He pushed open the conservatory door. The sound made Elizabeth start, and she spun around, a guilty flush spreading across her cheeks. "C-Ciel! You're supposed to be at tea!"

"As are you," he replied, crossing his arms. "You have not been yourself all week. And now I find you hiding in my garden, buying lace and roses in secret. Explain yourself."

Elizabeth clutched the fabric in her hands, her eyes shimmering. "I... I wanted to surprise you. I know you think birthdays are tedious, but I wanted to do something special. I thought if I planned a small party—just the servants and us, not a grand affair—you might actually enjoy it. I didn't want you to feel obliged to smile for the Society pages. I wanted you to smile for real."

Her voice trembled. "But I'm so clumsy with these things. Mey-rin helped me with the lace, Finny carried the roses, and Bardroy insisted on testing the cake recipe, though he burned it twice. I just want it to be perfect for you, Ciel. I never know how to show you how much you mean to me."

Ciel's throat tightened. He had been so caught up in his own coldness, in the grim duties of the Phantomhive name, that he had never once considered that Elizabeth's effervescent cheer was her way of reaching for him. He remembered the times he had dismissed her with a curt nod, the way he had let her letters go unanswered. And yet she remained, stubborn and bright, trying to cut through the darkness he wrapped around himself.

"Elizabeth," he said, his voice softer than he had intended. "You do not need to throw a party to prove your affection. Your presence alone is... more than I deserve."

Her eyes widened. "Ciel..."

He stepped closer, hesitating, then reached out to take her hand. It was warm and small in his, trembling slightly. "I apologize for being distant. I am not... good at this. But I do not wish for you to doubt my feelings."

Elizabeth laughed, a watery sound. "You are so serious. Even now." She squeezed his hand. "But that is why I love you, I suppose. You never pretend to be anything you are not."

Ciel let out a breath, almost a smile. "And you never stop trying to make me happy. That is why I..." He paused. "That is why I am grateful."

From behind the hedge, five heads popped up. Mey-rin, Finny, Bardroy, and even Tanaka were peering through the leaves, their expressions a mix of hope and barely restrained glee. Sebastian stood at a respectful distance, his gloved hand pressed to his chest, watching with a serene, unreadable expression.

"Did he say it?" Bardroy hissed.

"Shh!" Finny clamped a hand over Bard's mouth. "They'll hear us!"

Elizabeth giggled, and Ciel's cheeks flushed. He turned his head, glaring at the hedge. "I am surrounded by incompetent spies."

"Merely devoted servants, young master," Sebastian intoned, stepping forward with a tray of tea. "Would you care for refreshments here, in the garden? I took the liberty of preparing a second pot."

Ciel sighed, but he did not release Elizabeth's hand. "Very well. But I expect this tea to be accompanied by an explanation as to why Lady Elizabeth was allowed to run loose in my garden for an hour without supervision."

"Of course, young master." Sebastian's smile was knowing as he set the tray down on a stone bench. "I shall ensure it never happens again. Or at least, not without proper surveillance."

Elizabeth beamed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As the afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, Ciel found himself, for once, not minding the warmth. The laughter of his servants, the sparkle in Elizabeth's eyes—it was all a little too loud, a little too bright. But perhaps, he thought, that was exactly what he needed.