The smell of his blood lingered with me; Oh how I would have loved to taste it. But I couldn't think about that now, I had tea to prepare. As I passed the dining room, Mei-Rin was busy dressing the table. I passed by silently, determined not to disturb her. Tanaka was busy drinking his tea, and I paid him no mind. I boiled the water for tea in the kitchen and poured it into a large pot, plated all the food excluding the dessert, and in all effects, readied the cart. I then made my way outside as there were at least fifteen minutes left before Lady Middleford was due for arrival. The fountain Finny had "repaired" was shoddy at best, in essence a pile of rocks not at all aesthetically pleasing. I bemoaned myself once again as to why I had to have such incompetent staff, however I also reminded myself that they were getting better.
Now, about the fountain. I stood for a moment, wondering just how I was going to reconstruct it. There was no possible solution to rebuilding the close-to-perfect figure of the woman, so I knew I had to settle. But on what? It took me another moment to realize that only a swan could be constructed from the shambles of the elegant lady; it reminded me of a fairytale I had once heard. And with a bit of manipulation, I had the fountain reconstructed. Not to mention it looked quite fine for ten minutes worth of work. I was reminded of the time dear Elizabeth broke the Master's ring. I frowned; I had inadvertently darkened my own mood. I had to be in good spirits for the receiving of Lady Middleford, and so I washed my hands of the memories that tempted to overcome me, and I prepared myself for our guest.
Of course, she was on time. Lady Middleford was a very punctual lady, and, to my dismay, arrived in a rather foul mood. She stepped out of her carriage as proud as ever, a scowl already plastered on her thin lips. Her hair was pulled back, as always, and I half worried that she'd comment on mine and the Master's once again. There was, of course, nothing I could do about it now, but I would make sure we happily obliged if she happened to voice her disappointment.
She was stoic in her mourning dress as her footmen helped her to the ground. Black was pleasing on her. I was not surprised that the black crepe of her garments suited her, she was the type of woman to look best without the lace and frills of her daughter's preference. She was too strong for that, too forward thinking and independent. It was very unfortunate that Lady Elizabeth had not been more like her mother once my Master had returned home.
Lady Middleford came up to me deliberately, eyeing me with a suspicious gaze, but silent. I ignored her uncomfortable gaze; hopefully I could channel any aggression she should have towards my young Master somewhere else. "We have been expecting you, milady." I bowed. She was silent. "Tea and lunch will be served shortly in the dining room, if you could please follow me." Silence. I hoped she wasn't accusing me of some misdeed, though I knew her and the young Master to be on partially good terms. Or, at least, had been. The Lady did not say a word as I led her to the dining room. I tried to admire the shine on the silver place settings as I lead her to her seat, but I could do no such thing with the pertinent scowl on her face. "My Master should be here shortly," I said, apologetically. "He's had a difficult morning,"-would she catch that play on words?-"but if you wouldn't mind waiting here," I didn't bother to finish. Lady Middleford had not made a move, had not smiled, had not even given me another glance. She reminded me of the young Master, as stubborn as a mule.
I excused myself to look for the young Lord, not at all surprised to find him holed-up in his study. He sat behind his desk, hiding behind his pile of papers I knew he had already read and signed. There wasn't any more work for him to do, and so I assumed he was trying to ignore me and his aunt. I stepped up to the desk, coolly glancing at the boy with his head on the desk. "Sir, your Aunt is here."
He didn't verbally reply, only made a noise of acknowledgement.
"Are you coming down for lunch?"
"No," he muttered.
"Now, young Master-"
He sat up now, fury once again in his blue eye. His expression contorted from anger to fear, worry, panic and disappointment. "I don't want to! I never wanted to!" He was lashing out again, pounding his fists on the desk. Momentarily, I worried about the wound on his left hand. My young Master winced, relaxing his left hand slowly before removing both hands from my view entirely. I sighed.
"It would be best if you saw her, sir." Trying to convince him of his appearance was starting to frustrate me. "Am I right to assume she will get very angry if you do not appear? Besides, you look quite fetching in maroon." I tried to lighten the mood, but Ciel did not move. I could still smell the scent of his blood ebbing me closer to that insatiable desire. "Sir," I tried again, hoping that I could at least get him out of this room. "Lady Middleford is not going to have any patience for this. Might I remind you of her temper and willful nature? She will come looking for you herself." And that was something I did not want.
Ciel sighed while leaning back in his chair, and I knew I had won him over. I could smell the defeat. "Very well," he replied. "Let's get this dreadful visit over with." He stood but did not step in front of me. I raised an eyebrow at his sudden lack of initiative, but he was ignoring me, eyes downcast as he fingered the bandage on his left hand.
I stepped up beside him, close enough to get him to recognize my presence - he tensed for a moment - but far enough away to not be threatening. I was puzzled. If he was going to act like a child, then I would treat him like one. "Very good, young Master." I led him to the dining room, literally. He followed me closely, still silent. I opened the dining room doors for him but did not go in. "I'll serve your tea shortly," I said, excusing myself in the process. Ciel did not object, but I saw the look of restrained fear in his eye. For his sake, I hurried to return.
Yet, by the time I had come with their tea service and lunch, it seemed as nothing had happened. My Master sat stiffly in his chair across from Lady Middleford, while she seemed to stare him down relentlessly. I didn't think either of them noticed I had come in until I had placed their food in front of them. My Master looked startled for a moment when he saw what I served, but did not speak. Lady Middleford however, did.
"I'm so glad," she stressed, an air of falsehood enveloping her words. "That at least your butler has some sense after this tragedy." I did not approve of her opinion, but I did nothing.
"I cannot help that I am very busy," my Master stated softly. Once again, he reminded me of a child, however, this time he seemed to be waiting for a reprimand. I was waiting for it as well, but that did not stop the faint sense of pity I held for him in his situation. It was unfortunate for the three of us. "There isn't much time for me to-"
Lady Middleford interrupted, shouting. "You've had enough time to make an appointment with me!" Ciel flinched at her loud words. I felt a strange longing in the pit of my stomach to embrace the young Master, as it seemed he was about to cry. "You've had time, it seems, to not only repetitively reschedule this visit, but also place a noteworthy amount of thought into the new Funtom products. Yes, Ciel, I notice these things, so please tell me again why you cannot possibly come pay your respects!"
I balked at Lady Middleford's forthright question. I knew it was not my place to speak, however the young Master was still at a loss for words. He was staring at his salmon, an unreadable expression on his face. I could smell too many emotions radiating from him to define a single one, though I could tell he didn't yet have the capacity to speak. Where was the confident child I had come to know? I couldn't say, but I had to say something, even it if was to buy my Master a bit more time to recollect himself. "My Lady, if I may-"
"No you may not! Ciel has his own lungs, his own voice. If he wishes to speak, let him speak!" I did not move, I did not even apologize as Lady Middleford antagonized my dear Master. I was not going to compete with her, and I doubted that was something the young Master would approve of me doing. Though nowadays, it was becoming increasingly harder to tell. "Well, Ciel? What do you have to say for yourself?"
It became apparent to me that my hasty attempt to serve tea was not hasty enough. I did feel pity for my Master, I knew this may be too much for him. I also hoped he could find a word, any word, to say before his aunt started another interrogation.
The silence was deafening between the three of us.
Suddenly, my Master's chair toppled over with a crash. He stood, defiantly up to the table, his small arms locked as his fists rested between the cutlery. Anger had bubbled up in him, fueling the scowl on his lips and the fire in his eye. Finally, how very much like my young Master. How very much like Ciel.
"Let me explain this to you again," Ciel said coldly, but I could smell his blood boiling. "I am very busy with my many duties, and I am terribly ashamed, yes! Ashamed! That I have yet to pay my respects to dear Elizabeth. But please, Lady Middleford, inform me of what you are doing in your attempt to arrest her murderers. If you will, have you made any progress? Do you have a list of names? An idea? Anything at all?" I smiled. So, Ciel had had enough. "Do not try and shame me into thinking I have not done what is right. It is I who is trying to solve this horrible murder of Elizabeth, not you! You cannot sit there and accuse me of heresy when you have done nothing!" I was proud, very proud of the conviction my little Ciel had. Lady Middleford did not speak, not yet. Ciel was not finished, his little lungs gasping in rage. "I did not think so. So please, I think it best if you not try to accuse me, the only one who is trying, because I am doing my best." He sighed. I had picked up his chair during his outburst, and he collapsed back into it. "However, if it makes you feel better, I will surely visit on Sunday."
The Lady sighed. She did not seem shocked, dismayed, or otherwise phased by my young Lord's outburst. It seemed strange. "I'm sorry Ciel." I was interested in what she would say to defend herself, as her apology was rushed. "I'm so sorry; it's so horrible what they have done to her. I, I can't think straight about the entire situation. What they did to my poor daughter. My poor Elizabeth." She was silent again. I saw her eyes shine, but she didn't cry. No, Lady Middleford was not one to cry. But it seemed she was not one to hide behind thin apologies and reasonings, yet she did. I would not question her, though it would be interesting to see what Ciel would say about her later tonight. My little Ciel rested in his chair, eyes closed, trembling. Immediately, I knew what he was reliving. I knew the pain he was feeling, that torture he had gone through. What he suffered. It was a shame, and I was dissatisfied that it had to be brought up like this, but I knew Ciel would be stronger for it, and his thirst for revenge, his real revenge, would finally resurface. He would gain victory, I would gain his soul. This was a start, and though I had not planned for this per say, I was pleased that Ciel had finally broken his long silence about his late fiancée.
"Young Master," I spoke softly; his entire diminutive frame was shaking. I could pick out the sour scent of fear emanating from him, something I was most accustomed to and rather enjoyed. Fear was usually the backdrop to the memories of my previous masters. Truthfully, it made me hungry. Regardless, Ciel had not responded to my inquiry, and I placed a light hand on his shoulder. He went completely rigid and I smiled beside myself. "I think it may be best if we moved on to dessert?" Even though I was very interested in what could happen between these two, I was also concerned about Ciel's health, as I could hear a raspiness settle in his throat, chest heaving slightly. It was admirable how well he hid his unease.
"Yes," he said, effortlessly calm. "That's a good idea Sebastian."
With a bow I said, "Yes, my Lord," and dismissed myself from the dining room. I shut the door quietly, impressed that Ciel had handled himself so well. A month ago, it had been impossible for him to talk of Elizabeth. He had not said her name since the night he received the letter of her death and all the circumstances around it. It had been a very long night for the both of us. In the kitchen, the parfaits were frozen to perfection. Ah, the simple bliss of a perfectly prepared dessert. Perfection easily lifted my mood. I readied my cart quickly, as I was still uneasy with leaving little Ciel with Lady Middleford for too long. He tended to be even more short-tempered than usual, and I wouldn't want the Middleford's any more offended, especially since they were such skilled swordsmen and Edward continued to blame his sister's death on my young Master. I wondered if Edward would be selfish enough to make a deal with me? Ah, if only I wasn't leashed to my young Lord. Now, don't misunderstand those words, I very much enjoy serving the young Master, but it has been quite some time since my last meal, and even with the contract in place, I still yearned. Ah, but, those thoughts didn't matter - I wasn't even sure how I had come to them - and with my cart prepared, I made my way back to the dining room.
I served the parfaits quickly, as the tension in the room had not lessened in my absence. They ate in complete silence, and I wondered if they had spoke at all while I was gone. But Lady Middleford hastily said her good-byes soon after, and I then knew I had missed something. Of course, I could take a guess, but with the stubbornness of the both of them, my guess could very much be incorrect. But for the young Master to reveal what I had missed? Impossible.
My young Lord made his way to his study as I seen Lady Middleford off. When I could no longer see her carriage, I went inside. I spotted Mei-Rin running off with an armful of laundry out of the corner of my eye. I smiled, finally the staff was getting work done without any accidents.
I returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning up and make the young Master's tea for the afternoon. Even though it was barely half past three, I knew he'd want another cup a little early before his French lessons. The young Master had fallen back into his reclusive ways, but I was still interested in what had transpired between him and the Lady. It wasn't like him to argue and then say nothing of it. Honestly, I looked forward to serving his tea. I only had a few dishes to wash, the dessert places and parfait molds mostly. I cleaned them quickly and wondered if the young Master would be hungry again. Supper would be soon, undoubtedly, even with the late lunch. I could delay it until six-thirty, but any later would be irresponsible of me with this October weather; it was already getting dark and the air was cool. I sighed; regardless of time, my Master would surely want something else sweet, but I would have to refuse. Besides, I now had to get started cooking, and I still wanted to clean a few more rooms before I had to put my young Master to bed.
Alas, supper would have to be something I could make quickly. Of course, I could always materialize a meal. I had only done it a few times in these three years. The first time, of course, when I was contracted, and a handful of times within those two months before I stopped being as…confused and angry. Despite my perfected skills now, I had quite a steep learning curve those few months. In all honesty, I hadn't contracted a noble in quite some time, and a child no less? I've eaten the souls of children before, but I hadn't the requirement to baby-sit them. I sighed as I waited for the water to boil in the kettle. What a strange predicament I was in. A demon being a butler, babysitting a child just for a delicious soul. It sounded most amusing. My, how far I had fallen. Though, I didn't feel like this way below me, not any longer. I enjoyed the routine, the acting, the cooking. If I dare to say, it was quite fun. I had no problem being a loyal servant any longer. Three years was not that long a time, and I doubted I'd have this experience again in my lifetime. I could enjoy it while it lasted, however, no longer than I had to. I wasn't going to let my dear Master rope me around like a lost puppy, but for the time being, I could manage.
There wasn't much time for my Master to enjoy his tea before Madame Charbonaise arrived. Unfortunately, I did not have time to either prepare for her arrival or speak with my Master before she had seated herself in the drawing room with him and was going over the past-participles yet again. My Master had been neglecting his studies lately, and as I cleared up what was left of his tea, he was still struggling. I saw him give me a glance, searching for some aid, but I could only bow for forgiveness as I left the room. I knew Madame Charbonaise to be very kind-hearted, French as she was, so I did not think he would be too distressed by the end of his lessons. I was preparing for dinner as she left, and I had Mei-Rin escort her to her carriage. From what I heard, the tutor wasn't thrilled with my young Master's blatant refusal to study. It could not be helped. No amount of my prodding had gotten him to study for any longer than thirty minutes throughout the day on any subject, and even though they all knew of the death of his fiancée, - London was still abuzz with it after all, even though it had been over a month now - it seemed they were all running out of patience. I chuckled to myself. How unprofessional, we were paying them were we not? They surely could not have too many complaints.
Supper was coming along smoothly enough. I was preparing a simple beef stew in an effort to fill up my young Master. I had taken notice that he wasn't eating as much as he should, and I noticed more recently that his clothes had begun to hang on him. Being a young boy, I assumed it wouldn't take much for him to lose enough weight for it to be noticeable; he had always been thin in the three years I knew him, but even with his tea and desserts, he was looking more frail than usual. I was glad he didn't seem to want to repeat his actions after Elizabeth's death - he didn't eat for an entire week - and I've been nursing him slowly back to some semblance of health since. As a Phantomhive butler, it was the least I could do.
I stirred the stew, wondering if it would need more salt, however, my thoughts were suddenly interrupted. My hand hurt. And for a moment I was perplexed. To clarify, pain was something I was used to. Despite being a demon - or, more accurately, because I am a demon - most twinges of pain I feel aren't much to concern myself with. A spear through the chest feels, at most, like stubbing a toe or getting a friction burn. I wasn't concerned with that caliber of pain; I felt it from previous wounds most of the day, those twinges would fade with time. But this pain in my hand, on the contract, was a kind of pain I couldn't identify. I think, the only way to describe it was that the mark had been soaked in lamp oil and set alight. But I knew that even a burn would not hurt me as much as this. No, this was, unfortunately supernatural, especially since the appearance of the contract under my gaze had not changed. I clenched my jaw at the pain but ignored it for the time being. There wasn't much I could do; a strange pain with an unknown source would be like a goose hunt.
Yet, again, I was interrupted. I could hear the young Master's screams in my mind before I heard them echo down the halls. If I had a more human heart, I assume his cries would be considered heart-wrenching, but I found them quite exciting. Somewhere deep inside, I was enjoying the sound of complete abandon coming from my young Master. However, I disregarded those thoughts as well as the pain in my hand, finding my overwhelming concern for the young Master (and thus, our contract) more important. His cries were sharp, piercing through the silence that had settled in the manor.
I faced the ornate doors to the study in mere seconds, making it a certain fact that I had beaten the other servants. I knew they would be coming - that's what I trained them for - but for now I did not know if I even wanted them here. I threw the doors open, surveying the room quickly. A few papers littered the floor, but the room was otherwise untouched and empty except for my poor Master writhing and shrieking on the floor.
"Young Master!" I knelt beside him as he thrashed, blood permeating his maroon coat. He was holding his face, hands clasped around his right eye, blood running between his fingers. I was shocked. So it was harming the both of us. Before I could make another move, the young Master directed his screams at me.
"What did you do?!" He screamed at me but couldn't look. He had curled up on the floor, his voice starting to crack from use. His accusations didn't hurt me, however his constant screaming, even as cracked as it was, made me more and more concerned. He was going to make himself sick if he continued to scream like this. He was going to hurt himself.
"I'm sorry sir," I spoke softly, knowing very well he was listening, and intently, despite the pain. His mind was weak from pain and confusion, making it an open book for me to read, though it was something I didn't do very often. Now, I was desperate to find the source of his pain, but he didn't know any more than I did. "I don't know what is happening." I moved closer to him as doubt surfaced in his mind. As I touched his arm in an attempt to reveal the wound on his face, the young Master finally lost his voice and violent sobs shook his frail body instead of screams. "But I intend to find out, sir," I said, trying to smile for him as I watched him cry.
He tried to fight me as I moved to pry his hands from his eye, even though they weren't doing anything to stop the bleeding. He fought me hard, kicking and attempting to yell at me to stop. But it wasn't an order and I made no attempt to listen to his pained moans of "no, it hurts," as I had to gently straddle his hips to keep him from kicking me in the face. He was acting very much like a child in pain, which only alerted me to the danger this situation could hold. I still was not sure what was going on, but it would most likely be something powerful to force my Master into such an embarrassing state. "Let me see," I stated for what seemed the tenth time, attempting to untangle my arms from his. The young Master was not giving up, seemingly content on combating my own attempts to remove his eye patch by digging his nails into any exposed flesh. To my fortune, he was too short to reach my face, but as he continued to claw at my sleeves in something like blind panic, I grew impatient. I wasn't sure if this was some kind of game - humans were known to act strangely in intense situations, but this seemed unreasonable - so I lassoed both his wrists with one hand and pinned them above his head. "I'm sorry sir," I said. I wasn't sure if I was truthful as I watched him hyperventilate beneath me. "But I must see that eye of yours."
I removed the patch and a swell of blood followed yet tapered off quickly. The young Master moaned as I peeled back his eyelid, and for a moment I wasn't sure what I was looking at. The contract that had healed in his eye years ago looked just as fresh as the day I made it. It was fleshy, pink, bleeding and raw, yet what concerned me most was that it seemed my Master's eye had been completely removed from its socket, the seal carved carefully into the gaping hole the missing eye left behind.
