August 1889

Never once have I thought I would ever be in such a position, writing letters to you behind my rosewood desk, with the golden sun behind me. I ask myself this, Elizabeth—why have you gone? Are you prisoner, hostage, or willing guest? Do they serve you crème chantilly and strawberries or have they stolen the bloom from your cheeks, trapping you in caverns that deprive you of Apollo's fire?

I've written endless pages of reports and claims, some for her majesty and others for Funtom, and I have always calculated my words carefully except now, in your absence, I write without thought. Is it because I know you shall never read this? That you will never look on this missive and feel pity for the child who hides behind pretense? Don't think less of me Lizzy—not you, my last vestige of innocence and Arcadia. I look at you and I remember the spark of goodness that still resides in this world and the urge—the constant, pressing urge—to destroy everything I see or touch ebbs away, until it is a hoarse whisper that can easily be barred.

I loved you a summer ago, when gardenias grew around us and love was all we knew. You were beautiful then, just as you are now, so brave and so sweet, taking me by the hand as we went on little pretend adventures that sparked a flame in my heart and etched your touch into my skin. Did I know what love was when I was ten? Perhaps not. But I knew you, Lizzy, and you taught me what love could be.

You think I do not remember and it is true my memory has faded—cracked and broken, like the ancient Roman temples—but there are moments that linger, soft and unsure, afraid of the abyss that now resides where my heart used to beat. But, I remember you, Lizzy, sitting tall and proud on the highest branch of the cherry tree, the August breeze blowing your curls back and your head titled towards the sun. Aunt Frances would later berate you for having forgone your bonnet and when I next saw you Lizzy, you had a light dusting of freckles across your nose but your smile was as bright as ever.

You silly, foolish girl, do you know what designs await you the longer you remain in Bravat's grasp? Corruption and sorrow, the bitterness of wormwood and the poison of the earth. There is nothing so important in this world as your innocence—your inherent, sweet goodness—but being so careless and infantile, you have snuck away, ignorant of what awaits you. My youthful, earthbound Hebe. Do you know how jealously I guard your purity? Your guileless charm and merry ways—and yet he, some garish servant of peculiar habits and terrible dress, has the gall to lure you away?

Well, I shall simply have to steal you back.

You will smile and laugh for me again, an alter of daisies and spring—my last constant in life. You are far too good for this world, Elizabeth, and sometimes I wonder if you are even aware of the life you have willingly delved into without reservation or fear.

Truly, Lizzy—do you fear nothing at all? As a child I borrowed from your endless strength, cloaking my timidity with your steadfast courage and I remember (even now) how I promised that one day, it would be I who could protect you. By week's end, you will be asleep in your own bed, your worries gone with the night. You will remain pure as the graces themselves and never again will I allow you to be subject to the terrors of the underworld.

Upon your return, Lizzy, I shall set you free.

I promise.

—Ciel

- Arcadia: often known as a place of paradise but also the place that cannot be—the unattainable utopia.

- Cherry trees symbolize the shortness (and beauty) of life. In Ciel's case, the beauty of his short-lived childhood that he now associates with Lizzy.

- Hebe: Greek goddess of youth and cupbearer to the gods. (In my mind, Ciel always associates Lizzy with youth, innocence, laughter, and the memory of happiness.)

- Hecate: Greek goddess of crossroads, ghosts, magic, and necromancy.

A/N: I've been meaning to post this story up for days but my wifi was super spotty while I was on vacation so here it is now :3

Reviews appreciated :)