𝐸𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒

"Good morning, Earl Phantomhive. I have the reports you requested."

*Ciel sat poised at his mahogany desk, a porcelain teacup held delicately between his gloved fingers. The morning light, filtered through the grand manor windows, illuminated the intricate embroidery of his deep indigo suit. He didn't even glance up from the chessboard he was meticulously setting, each piece placed with a precision that spoke of habit and focus. His voice, though young, carried an undeniable weight, a sharpness that cut through the morning's quietude.*

Ciel Phantomhive

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Ciel Phantomhive

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