Black Butler: The Stellar Dove

11.3

  Our trances were shattered with the sound of the front door flying open.

"Estella!" The man didn't even take the time to remove his coat or hat before rushing to me. It all happened so fast. Neither of us could get another word in before I was being embraced in his arms. "My fair lady, Estella, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for not listening to you. I never thought you'd be so foolish as to run out into the night like that! Oh, my dear, my sweet love... can you ever forgive me?"

He finally pulled away to reveal his flushed, tear-stained face. His frame was large, his height somewhat close to mine. His age was probably slightly less than 30. His hair was a dark, dull brown, his eyes the color of a murky pond. He wore a suit underneath his coat—signifying he was likely a nobleman—and a top hat. He was breathing heavily, and shaking.

Behind him, I could see Sebastian take a step back, his face stricken with horror. If I thought excitement was an odd look for him, that was almost unimaginable. Also, it was then that I realized the man had stepped between us.

"I'm... I'm sorry, sir," I replied softly, pulling away ever so slightly. He—thankfully—took his arms away to allow me another comfortable step backwards. "I'm afraid I do not recognize you. I've... actually seemed to have forgotten everything. Would you... please explain who you are?"

"Estella," he whispered, taking my hand into his. "Estella... it's me, Serafin. Serafin King, your fiancé."

My face paled at the word. Fiancé? Mine? I was to be married? It would explain why that word shocked me that night at dinner, but it didn't seem right. No matter if I remember him or not, I should at least feel something for him if I was to be his bride. This could be any man—a peasant, a thief, a swindler, a kidnapper, a madman...

I gasped when I realized he had slipped a golden ring onto my finger. It was then that I knew no matter if I recognized him or not, I knew that ring.

"Sir, she's been through so much the past few weeks," Sebastian told Serafin while I was lost in my scattered, blurry memories. "Please be—"

"If you would please stay out if this. Don't confuse her any more. Who are you, anyway?"

"I am the Phantomhive butler, and her caretaker," Sebastian replied, frowning. "And you are?"

"I am Serafin King, Estella Jones's fiancé."

"Do you have any proof of this? I'm afraid that, until we're sure—"

"No, it's alright..." my quiet voice stopped them. "I... do remember... this ring. But that's it."

"That's proof enough, isn't it?" Serafin shot Sebastian a glare.

"Who is this? What's going on?" Ciel asked, making his way down the stairs.

"I'm very sorry for letting myself in," the man replied with an apologetic nod. "But I've come to claim my fiancé."

"You're Lady Estella's fiancé?" Ciel narrowed is eyes. I noticed he was looking at Sebastian again, and the butler right back at his master. They were having one of their silent conversations, and at this point I could tell they were both skeptical of this man—as was I.

"Yes," Serafin replied surely. "Is the master of this house here? I must thank him for his curtesy."

"I am the master," Ciel told him. Even today, I hadn't seen him act so coldly towards a guest. "Ciel Phantomhive."

"Lord Phantomhive?" Serafin's eyes widened. "Forgive my rudeness, I didn't expect—"

Ciel waved his hand, silencing him.

"Estella, my dear," Serafin took my hand again. "We must be going now. Your family is worried sick! And—"

"No, stop," I finally spoke firmly. "I... I still don't remember enough to feel comfortable leaving with you. Can you please... tell me more about yourself, or at least what happened before I... left?"

Serafin blinked in confusion. "Oh course, my dear. I'll explain everything. It's a bit of a long story, though..."

"Then why don't we move this to the din?" Ciel suggested. "Her current residence being with us, I would like to hear this story, too, if you don't mind."

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