Osiria (Kuroshitsuji)

un.

Un: What makes a Phantomhive Servant?

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" My fellow circus members are paying a visit to your manor tonight."

~♤~

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It was one of those quiet nights, the same lingering silence that voiced around the halls of Earl Phantomhive's manor. Like the common nights, the young Earl Phantomhive's governess roamed these empty halls which are usually done by the caretaker of the manor, but upon finding sanctuary in Count's home, it will become a privilege she will never take for granted.

With a lamp in one hand, she treads the dim lit walls like any other night, but her feet seemed to have a brain of their own that went in sync with her own conscious mind as her feet brought her before a window with the clear view of the land of Earl.

Attention was drawn to every tree, bush, and shade in her limited line of sight. She didn't need to confirm since circumstances already set a stone and what she can only do is prepare for it head-on.

"Mister Tanaka," she called as a silhouette of another individual emerged from the dim hallway. His white graying hair is slicked back as no matter the age, a Phantomhive servant must always be presentable within the household until they are within the comforts of their quarters.

"Good evening, Miss Rose," he did a slight bow. It would be ever so confusing and shocking to people who have been used to seeing old laid back Tanaka be serious and alert, but not to the Phantomhive Servants.

"How is she?"

"In deep sleep, Miss." Her attention is equally divided to her conversation with Old Tanaka and the rustle through from the north of the manor. Alarm raised within her but she remained composed outside. A Phantomhive servant is not worth His Lord's sort if she cannot remain together at times of threat.

"It looks like we're having some guests this late evening. Please stand by Lady Elizabeth's quarter, my womanly intuition tells me that our chef might go overboard for the unexpected visitors of our Young Lord." Tanaka only replied with his quiet nod.

"I shall assure that she is not bothered." With that, the household caretaker retreated into the darkness, his lamp becoming one with the dark along with a cloud of gray smoke.

Osiria's gaze remained towards the empty front yard and lingered in the darkness of the manner as her own lamp becomes blown out. She waited.

| • | • | • | • |

As the circus ringmaster said, the small clearing in the forest gathered a people of five eyeing the massive manor.

"This is it? It's so big," Peter described. "Seems like it may be a tough job to find the room of our target," The blonde knife enthusiast added to the shrimp trapeze artist beside him.