[Some part in the back of his mind wonders how long he can really carry this on, beating around the bush with this story, before Vincent or Ciel start to put two and two together. Ciel, at least, knows about the mourning chain and the names upon it. Father and son will talk, and he doesn't doubt that at some point or another, his name will enter the conversation.]

[Not that he'll complain. Not that he'll be angry with them for it. They'll speak of him as they please, with or without him around. But he has to ask himself, just once more, if or not he wants them to know sooner or later.]

[He nods, confirming that they will, indeed, visit the library tomorrow to sift through what they can.]

He did inherit a few features from me, I suppose. No one made a fuss about it, and that's a relief. Everything could have been ruined if they had.