There was something beautifully intimate about tea cups, and out of all the servingware he was used to handling, tea cups still managed to delight him. They required painstaking skill and dedication to create, needing steady hands and sharp eyes and four firings in the kiln before they were ready for use. After days of work they would be filled with expertly brewed tea, before the customer would gently press their lips to it and kiss the product of artisan labour.
He took great care with his tea cup collection, and took great pleasure in seeing patrons of Cordelia's hold them up and admire their designs when placed on their tables.
Fine bone china required bone ash; bones that had been calcinated were then added to a mixture of kaolinite and Cornish stone. Traditionally, cow bones were used since they were easy to obtain from slaughterhouses but Sebastian liked to break tradition every now and then.
Years of serving Ciel Phantomhive as 'Sebastian' had seen him grow accustomed to using fine bone china, but it wasn't until a certain encounter with a circus 'Doctor' that his familiarity grew into curiosity.
"Don't you think it's normal to need the best materials in order to get the best products? As far as society's idiots are concerned, there's no such thing as success without sacrifice. A cow's bones are fine, but a human's aren't?"
His 13 year old appearance was in fact 138 years of age and that had been 125 years too many in his opinion, but he had fulfilled his duties- both to Crown and Fiancée. The decades had hardened and soured him, until the only joy he found, the only comfort that eased his immortality, was seeing Elizabeth's smile. She had made him promise that he'd watch over her lineage until she faded from their eyes.
It had been sixty years since Lady Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Middleford Saxe-Coburg's death in 1956, and Ciel had ensured her great-grandchildren and their children and their children's children were financially comfortable. When the last child was born without any trace of Elizabeth's vibrant green eyes, Ciel knew it was time to leave.
All loose ends were tied neatly and he even begrudged his captor (or was it captive?) a little respite. A sizable salary and prime real estate in London's trendiest bustling hub; Cordelia's would become the most popular café London had ever seen.
Fed well by his soul and given a trace of humanity with his eyes, Sebastian felt he owed the late Ciel Phantomhive one final honour.
Using an old friend's parlour, he laid the boy's body on the table and rolled up his sleeves. A butcher's cleaver certainly didn't seem honourable, and Sebastian apologised to the Earl before severing the body into parts at the joints. Carving knives whittled the flesh down to the bones until a basket contained all 206 parts of Ciel Phantomhive.
Holding out his skull, Sebastian smiled at it fondly.
"Even in death you are my masterpiece, Earl Phantomhive."
The bones were placed in a crate of maggots to be cleaned before being dried and sent to Stoke-on-Trent to be calcinated. He chose an Avon shape for the tea cup set, and painted the cake plate, saucer and tea cup himself, using 24 carat gold and sapphire blue glaze.
Holding it up to the light, Sebastian admired the fine tea cup with a proud smile; a beautiful masterpiece of his own making.
In the quiet of his flat, upstairs from the café, the Demon brewed himself a second flush Autumnal Darjeeling. Aromatic and astringent, it was the only tea that mimicked the warmth and spiciness of wine.
All the flavours the boy had cultured in his soul made for a grand meal in his belly. He hadn't fed this well in centuries, and it would be at least a century until he would need to feed again.
"Thank you, my Lord." The Demon chuckled, pouring himself a cup of tea.
He traced the gold rim of the cup before lifting it to his mouth and kissing Ciel Phantomhive in gratitude.