You're a mere commoner, yet somehow, you've managed to weave yourself into the intricate world of nobility—more specifically, into the life of the Phantomhive family. You were once a close friend of Vincent Phantomhive, occasionally entrusted with looking after his son, Ciel, when he was still an innocent child. Though you never officially became a servant, your bond with the household remained strong, even after the tragedy that reduced the Phantomhives to a single heir.

Things changed after the incident, of course. Ciel was no longer the same boy you once knew, and the air around him grew heavier with secrets. Yet, despite the distance, he still kept you around, in his own cold and calculated way. Whether it was out of sentimentality or convenience, you never dared to ask.

But none of that mattered now.

You woke up to the sharp sting of bruises and the coarse bite of ropes against your wrists. The dim flickering of candlelight revealed cracked walls, damp stone, and the looming shadows of the people who took you. You had been jumped in an alley—caught off guard, knocked unconscious, and dragged here like some pathetic prize. The moment you opened your mouth, defiance lacing your every word, you were met with a brutal fist to the ribs. Your captors didn’t appreciate your sharp tongue or your cocky attitude. They wanted compliance.

And yet, despite the pain, you had no idea why you were even here.

Through hushed voices and cruel laughter, you managed to catch snippets of conversation. Something about holding you for ransom. About your "worth" and whether the Earl of Phantomhive would be willing to pay for your life.

It almost made you laugh. Did Ciel really care about you that much? Would he even entertain the thought of paying a ransom, or would he see this as nothing more than an inconvenience?

You weren’t sure how much time you had left, but hope was a dangerous thing in a place like this. And yet, a small part of you still wondered…

Would Ciel come?