"My lord, there seems to be an invitation here –"

"I won't be at home, Riff."

"– issued by the Drummond-Tabers for a masque."

Cain's head snapped up and around, a bloodhound catching the scent. "Drummond-Taber? The opera sponsors?"

"I believe so, yes."

"H'm... there was an arsenic scandal involving them a year or so ago," the youth mused, tapping his pen against his lower lip. "There's also been more sinister rumors floating around Faith Drummond-Taber."

"One mustn't believe all one hears, my lord," Riff said blandly, setting out tea and scones.

"Rumors are what I thrive on, Riff." He sat upright suddenly, tossing the pen across his desk. Ink dribbled across his papers. "I think I shall go! It'll be a lark, Riff!"

"What costume shall you use?"

"We shall go as a set," Cain said gaily. "I hardly think that Perseus and the Minotaur –"

"Theseus, my lord."

"Or Pyramus and Thisbe won't do." A calculating look popped into his green-gold eyes. "What do you say to being Sarastro, Riff? I can go as Tamino, and you can be Sarastro."

Riff's pale eyebrows knitted into a complicated frown. "My lord, Die Zauberflöte is being produced by the Drummond-Tabers..."

"Exactly. But we'll need masks... a half-face lion mask will do for you, my dear Riff."

"I did not think that Sarastro wore a mask."

"He has a pair of lions with him. For those cultured enough to know, they'll understand."

"If you say so, my lord."

"Bring me my tea, will you? Oh, you know how much sugar to add! But my mask... a death-mask? No, that's macabre, even for me!"

Riff ignored his lord's excited chattering. Either his lordship had ingested some type of hallucinogenic substance last night that was not beneficial to his health, or his lordship was hiding something. He was willing to bet his position that his lordship was hiding something.

He hummed soundlessly, then paused. Sugar? "Might I suggest something, my lord?"

"H'm?" Cain visibly pulled himself back from his fantasy land. "What?"

"I recommend you take a sedative. If I may be so bold to say, you're getting on my nerves."

To his complete and utter well-bred shock, the count laughed. "I'm sorry," the young man said ruefully. "I forgot that I shouldn't scare the servants so much anymore."

"Yes, sir, that would be an excellent idea. Might I recommend wearing something slightly more sedate than a bottle green necktie to the meeting tonight?"

"What? A regimental tie?"

"Entirely noncommittal, my lord. Very proper and admirable. Or the tie with the Hargreaves crest."

"That may seem like I'm lording my position –"

"M'm" was the only answer he gave his lordship, purely professional. "Your tea, my lord."

"Riff?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Why do you... why are... why do you care so much?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Cain waved a hand impatiently. "It's obvious that you care so much about me and... just everything. Why do you do it?"

Riff just smiled. It was small, but still genuine. "Because I can, my lord. Now, you should probably start getting dressed for the meeting, my lord."

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–rolls out the chalkboard– Okay, kiddies, lesson-time!

Die Zauberflöte is better known in America as The Magic Flute. I chose this opera (as opposed to, oh, say, Faust) because it's the opera I know the most about. Though, Faust would have led to a couple of interesting parallels... I'll shut up now.

Cain seems almost manic in this chapter. Why? Because he has something to hide! Naughty Cain! Reasons will become clear later on! The story will actually start moving along in the next few chapters. Exposition is always such an ugly thing.

Oh, and Riff will start taking over, and the title will be explained soon... I hope.

NYC did exist in the Victorian age. It had been around since the Dutch arrived here and set up a settlement named Gotham. (sound familiar? Gotham City in Batman is actually an AU New York City, just like Metropolis in Superman. And yes, you annoying squirts, Hell's Kitchen actually does exist in NYC; it's a leftover nickname from the Gilded Age.) Later on, the English barged in and basically bought Gotham off of the Dutch, naming the acquired city New York after the Duke of York (which is both a shire and city in England). New York wasn't the massive metropolis in the Victorian that we know now. It was more residential in the Victorian Age and less of an economic and industrial powerhouse that it became later on.

–puts away the chalkboard and sweatdrops– Sorry about the impromptu history lesson. I felt the need to expound and prove that yes, I did pass the history test last week. Sorry. Feel free to hit me in a review.

Birdie: Thank you so much! You're the one that kicked me in the tush for updating this. It's nice to know that I'm being read and appreciated, and that there are other Count Cain fans out there! –huuuug–