It had been one of the longest nights she’d had in a while. Everything had to be difficult for poor Amelia Vanderbilt, Noble woman of the great King Baltman. If one looked up, they could watch the beautiful twinkling of millions of stars. If one were to peer down the alley, next to Milley’s Sew Shop on 5th street, they could watch Amelia drain the blood of the local paperboy. 

“Shh.” She brushed her dove gray glove against the boy’s frightened face, his flush cheeks quickly draining of color. ”You shouldn’t have followed me, dear.” She said softly, smiling as if she were merely lecturing the boy for eating too many sweets. “Curiosity killed the cat.” She sighed, brushing his curling golden locks behind his ear. Her kitten mewed behind her and she giggled and the sound of tinkling silver bells rang out into the night. “Oh Gibli, you say the silliest things!—oh!” she grimaced as the blood that had been spilling into an old perfume bottle, was now dripping onto her glove. “That’ll do, I suppose.” She grumbled and got up, letting the boy slump into the corner. 

She licked the drops of blood that beaded on her glove, leaving the leather clean and spotless. “Fool.” She muttered under her breath and tucked the bottle into hidden fold in her petticoat. The cat mewed and followed behind her. “I would have left him alone if he hadn’t been snooping about for the past week. I’m sure he knew something was amiss.” She glanced back at Gibli, shrugging her shoulders when the cat yowled. “I don’t care to discuss it anymore, cat.” She mumbled, turning down another street. Her quick feet carried her, clicking away on the cobblestones, all the way to the crème de la crème of London. The street only the wealthiest and powerful families lived; Excelsior Way. 

Gibli had fallen behind a few streets back, maybe chasing a rat? Amelia opened the gate and climbed the steps to her front door which swung open. The comforting aroma of withering flowers and vanilla greeted her, along with her only servant, Gibli. Amelia took of her coat, handing it to him before climbing the stairs that encircled her greeting area. “Gibli! Fetch me my crown!” she called, disappearing into one of the many burgundy doors that lined the halls. 

Gibli ran up to Amelia’s closet, which was actually a room filled with an obscured amount of the finest cloths Europe and the exotic lands had to offer, and placed the coat with the others. He began for the door before remembering what his mistress had ordered him and picked up a crown of blossoming flowers from the tea table as he exited. 

Gibli entered on the scene. His mistress, clad in only a translucent green robe that hugged her body, sitting on her legs in the middle of a symbol he had come to recognize. “Bring it here.” She seemed to breathe life into the candles as each wick burst with a little flame like falling pillars, one by one. The walls were lined with light, leaving the center, where Lady Vanderbilt sat, early shadowed. He slowly began forward, falling to one knee as he offered her the crown. She took them from his palms, her finger tips brushing the sensitive skin, making it tingle. He jumped to his feet, already knowing this ritual by heart.

Amelia began to hum and chant beneath her breath, the sound was soft and uncanny and somehow made the silence in the room thick with anticipation. At first, the moonlight started as a sliver down her back, and then grew, swallowing her and the symbol up in its luminescent beauty. You couldn’t hear the sizzling of wax and wick, just her chanting and breathing. Nothing existed but Lady Amelia and her ritual as she reached forward and popped the top off of the old perfume bottle.

Gibli stepped forward, careful not to step into the ritual space, and gently slipped the robe from around her shoulders, revealing soft supple skin. Her chanting intensified, along with the silence that surrounded them. Gibli stumbled back into a table against the wall, knocking over a vase, but Lady Vanderbilt was already deep into her ceremony to notice.

Her voice rose higher and higher until the room was filled with her whaling and mantras. She emptied the bottle atop her, drizzling it all over her crown, hair, face and body until the last drop left it. Her singing stopped, and the light flickered and dimmed into nothingness, leaving only Amelia in the pale moonlight. 

“Gibli.” She rasped, reaching her hand out. He quickly handed her the robe and began picking up after the mess he made. “See that this is cleaned up before you go to bed.” Amelia shakily pulled the robe over herself, hugging it tightly around her. “Tomorrow, I have company coming over. It’s Mademoiselle Finik. Probably needs another ‘love potion’.” She made air quotes and rolled her eyes before moving for the door. “Use the alchemy table and put that together in the morning…. We’ve done well, tonight.” She sighed and once again, disappeared from sight.