Narrator's POV

A few minutes later, Undertaker arrived at the prepared lifeboat.

The tears that had streamed down his pale cheeks had dried away, leaving tracks in their place.

Setting the twins on the wooden seats and tying them down, he turned and saw Sieglinde had beat him here.

"Lady Sullivan, please fetch the vials of Sirius blood for me while I lower the lifeboat into the water." Undertaker solemnly requested, not facing her

With that, she opened the tiny portable ice box and got the two glass vials out —leaving the Canopus one in there since she did not need it— while Undertaker lowered them into the sea.

Once that was done, Undertaker got the manual transfusion tubes out; it was not as efficient as the mechanical one but it was too heavy for the life boat.

Starting with Ciel, he put the needle into his arm and let the old blood pour out into a prepared bucket.

With that out, he put the other needle in the vial of blood and raised the vial over Ciel's arm so it drained into his undead grandson.

Once he was done with Ciel, he did the same with Astre.

Awhile later, the twins woke up and groaned.

"W-What happened?" Astre asked, rubbing his glass eye a bit

"It seems Rian's device did actually do something, when he activated it, it sent you two into a primal state like the failures." Undertaker explained, then turning to the only girl on the boat, "It did not seem to effect you since you were luckily out of range."

Looking up at the star filled sky, Undertaker sat down, "It is very late and it has been a long day, the three of you should get some rest; I will wake you when the rescue ship arrives."

The three Star Lord's nodded, and laid down on the few seats.

"Tell is a story, grandfather, we are not tired." Astre said, his head on the reaper's lap

"Yes, tell us a story." Ciel agreed, his head also on the man's lap

Undertaker ran his long nails through their navy blue locks, "Well, nearly a century ago in 1793, I was in Paris. The French Revolution had started nearly four years previously and the French Reapers were sorely understaffed for all the collections taking place due to all the mass executions. So, the British Reapers sent me and a few others to assist them."

"Is that why you can speak French?" Astre asked

"Yes." Undertaker answered, "I was there until the revolution ended in late 1799 before I returned to England, staying there for sixish years made me quite fluent."

"But, back to my story," The reaper continued, "It was October 16 of 1793 and I was tasked with retrieving the souls of a few nobles, most notably, Marie Antoinette's."

As he shared the tale of what it was like to reap her soul after witnessing her execution, he noticed all three of the teens had fallen asleep.

Smiling, he shrugged off his robe and covered the twins with it and covered Sieglinde with his outer jacket, leaving himself in just a white button-up and his usual black pants.

Leaning his head against the wall of the boat as he stared into the dark horizon, he was left to his thoughts.

***

Nearly five years previously, in the early December of 1885, Undertaker was sitting on the window seat of his son's office.

A book he had not paid attention to in hours sat open on his lap, his eyes watching his grandchildren play in the garden below.

The twins were running around the snowy ground, their faces flushed red from all the laughter and the chill —Astre extra bundled up from the cold since he was sickly— as their dog chased them around.

Elizabeth was running after them as well, trying to catch them for whatever game the three of them were playing.

Edward sat by the adults, currently in the stage of his life where he believed himself too old to play with children when he was barely a teenager.

Beside his eldest grandson, was his daughter, son-in-law, daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law's sister, all talking together.

Undertaker smiled at the sight, then turning to his right where his son was busy at work for some case for the Queen.

He hated Victoria, she was the reason Claudia had been on the case that led to her catching cholera and he feared the position of Watchdog would lead to an early grave for Vincent as well.

Undertaker then noticed Vincent had stilled as he stared at the paper in front of him, her hazel eyes widened in shock.

"What is wrong, Earl?" The reaper asked, hating he had to keep up the illusion of being just a close family friend and not the man's father

Vincent covered his mouth with his palm, "I-I think I just uncovered something about the Queen."

"Do not go after it; do not be brave, be blind to it." Undertaker almost desperately said

The blunette was shocked, "I thought you hated Her Majesty? I thought you would help me."

"I do hate her, I have always been open about that, but I beg of you to not go digging in for her secrets." The white haired man replied, his long black nails frantically tapping against his book, "You are not safe from her if she finds out you know whatever it is you know. Think of your wife, your sons."

Vincent looked down at the paper on his desk and then back to the window behind the reaper where his family was having fun outside, "Alright, old friend, I will not look into it more."

Two weeks later, as he frantically looked through the remains of the burnt down manor for Vincent and the rest of his family's corpses, Undertaker knew his son had lied...