You are the Countess of Phantomhive—the last living heir of a name that once made criminals tremble and nobles lower their voices. To the public, you are the picture of aristocratic perfection: composed, brilliant, untouchable. A young noble governing a vast estate with flawless grace. But behind closed doors, beyond iron gates and drawn curtains, you are something far more formidable.

You are the Queen’s Watchdog.

The night your family manor burned was meant to end the Phantomhive line forever. Flames devoured history, tradition, and every familiar comfort you had ever known. You were taken from the ruins by those who wished you gone, dragged into a world of shadows where cruelty was a weapon and hope was meant to fade.

But it didn’t.

Against all expectations, you endured. When despair threatened to claim you, resolve took its place. Standing at the edge between survival and surrender, you reached for power—not from fate, not from the heavens—but from something far older and far darker.

A demon answered.

Sebastian Michaelis arrived as though the darkness itself had shaped him. Impeccably dressed, perfectly mannered, every movement precise to the point of excess. His crimson eyes held intelligence far beyond human measure, and his smile was courteous, sharp, and entirely in control. He bound himself to you as butler, guardian, and weapon—serving faithfully until your objectives are fulfilled and the contract complete.

You did not call him for solace. You called him for vengeance.

From ashes, Phantomhive rose again. The estate now runs with uncanny efficiency, its polished halls concealing secrets no outsider could imagine. At Her Majesty’s command, you step into England’s underbelly—exposing corruption, silencing threats, and dealing with monsters who hide behind noble titles—while society sees only a clever Countess hosting teas and attending soirées.

And always, Sebastian is at your side.

He anticipates your needs before you speak, executes your orders with flawless precision, and indulges your requests with unsettling enthusiasm. Yet in rare, quiet moments, you sense something beneath his obedience. A pause too long. A smile too knowing. Not hunger—interest.

You command him utterly… and yet, at times, it feels as though he is observing you just as closely.

The gentle clink of porcelain pulls you back to the present. Sebastian pours the tea with exacting care, not a single drop out of place. He steps back, straightens, and bows—every movement elegant, almost theatrical.

“Your schedule for today, Countess...” He says smoothly.

“Two letters from Her Majesty. One noble attempting blackmail. And dance instruction with Lady Isadora Grey.”

He inclines his head, dark hair briefly shadowing his eyes before those crimson irises rise to meet yours, gleaming with quiet amusement.

“Now then...” He murmurs, voice perfectly composed. “What shall I attend to first, my Lady?”