That Butler, Exposé

{Sebastian's POV}

Classes had finished for the evening, and the investigative tasks for the day had been carried out. I had completed each item on the list, no matter how menial or absurd. Now, I had a rare moment to myself sequestered inside Cielle's dormitory.

I penned line after line in tempest. The petulant brat. Did the girl see me as some work horse?

My hold on the fountain pen tightened.

The orders grew more and more high-handed, with several completely unrelated to the case. All of which only hindered me from my own more discreet errands. My brow twitched as I copied a cipher.

While I could see quite plainly that Cielle was a bundle of nerves due to the case, I could hardly empathize with her atrocious demeanor. At violin lessons, she had quickly become one of my worst students, taking pride in her abominable playing. Or rather, taking pride in getting under my skin. Worse yet, her questionable thoughts had only intensified, deepening that new essence which flavoured her soul. Threatening my composure further yet. Despite keeping my distance, it hardly helped the matter in the slightest, but rather had the opposite effect.

Rosy lips curled around her thumb. Licking the jam, pinning her eyes on me while she breakfasted. Goading me.

I pressed harder on the parchment, ignoring my slipping restraint.

Those obscene cries last night; my name moaned over and over. Her depraved pleasure penetrating me through the contracted mark. Testing my sanity to the limits.

Black ink bled through the parchment. I released my grip on the pen. The nib had broken into pieces, smearing ink on the page.

Dear me, this wouldn't do.

"Sebastian?"

The door creaked open and Cielle leaned against the frame. "Well, you're writing up a storm. What are you doing?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned about," I said in a nonchalant tone. I straightened out the wad of parchment, careful to conceal the contents from Cielle. She stared warily as I tucked the papers inside my robe.

Now, it was my turn to stare at her. The girl flitted past me and upturned her knapsack, letting her notes, textbooks, and sheet music spill onto the floor. Then she plopped herself on the bed in a supine position. Her back on the bed, hair touching the floor, hands across her belly, she glowered at me upside-down.

My brow twitched. "Really, this childish behavior is a bit much. Even for you."

"This is my room, hence I'll do as I please. Besides..." A glint flashed in her eye. "You're in my domain here. Last time I checked, professors frequenting a girl's dorm might cause trouble."

Using my own words against me? How expected. Pressing my lips into a thin smile, I removed my spectacles so that she bore the brunt of my unnerving gaze directly. "Is this supposed to be a half-hearted threat? As I recall, I am only answering your calls."

"Yes, we have much to discuss." She sat up on the bed. "Have you finished everything on my list?" The girl's question sounded more like a waspish demand. I had little doubt another outlandish order would soon ensue from her lips.

"I have."

"Good. Because I've another task for you. I need you to mend my old parasol at the manner and bring back some pepper powder."

It took a few seconds before I could speak. "Pepper powder?" I repeated, in a tone that made certain two plus two equaled four.

"Pepper powder," she said. "And the parasol."

Silence.

Was the impudent girl trying to get a reaction out of me? Of all the ridiculousness and utter flippancy...

"Cat got your tongue, Sebastian?"

Reminding myself of the soul I had cultivated for this long, I summoned every bit of patience I possessed and smiled thinly at her. "Not at all. I was only thinking if the mistress has time to concoct such asinine requests, I should think she has finished my assignments."

Cielle scoffed. "I have more important things to do than humour you playing at professor."

I donned the spectacles again. "Hands out if you would."

"Why?" she said, stretching her fingers.

"You'll see." I grabbed a ruler of the desk. And smacked her knuckles with considerable satisfaction.

"Have you bloody lost it—?!"

"It shall be a whip next time," I said softly. "And more than just fingers."

Her face reddened.

"I hope you did not forget my previous warning about your Carmilla piece. I do not lie. If you refuse to correct your appalling playing, poor form, and abysmal attitude, you leave me no choice but to use the—"

Cielle released a sardonic laugh. "Oh, bite me."

Fixing her an expression that had all the warmth of the arctic sea, I glided towards her and leaned down on the bed. "I could easily do that," I whispered into her ear. Cielle sucked in a sharp breath as my gaze trailed her neck, that milky unblemished skin that was begging to be marred. Cielle glared, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of fear. I lowered myself closer, a hair's breadth away from her parted lips before pulling away. "Pray tell, what do you intend to accomplish with this foppish behavior?"

"You ought to know," Cielle whispered.

"I suppose I do know. Much more than you think I do."

"What are you talking about?"

I decided now was a good time as any to expose her inhibitions. "You must've suspected it at some point. How the depth of our contract goes far beyond what you are aware of. It is a vinculum of sorts, a tether that allows me to pick up your thoughts, your emotions, more than usual as of late given their intensity. Including the ones from last night." My whisper trickled the shell of her ear.

"What..." she breathed.

Slowly, I tilted her chin up to face me. A furious blush coloured her face. "Do you think I am unaware of last night's ongoings? Servicing yourself. Imagining it was I." My thumb stroked her bottom lip. It was trembling.

"Did you enjoy partaking in the solitary vice? I believe it was the first time you reached completion on your own." I slipped the finger into her parted mouth, and Cielle stifled a moan. "Yes...like that. Moaning my name." I thrust my finger in a rhythmic motion. Cielle's tongue wetted the gloved digit, curling around it. "Calling for me over and over, like a wanton little hussy." Cruelly, I yanked the digit from her lips, and the thread of saliva snapped.

"How dare you speak to me that way!" she spat, wiping her mouth. "Especially after you invaded my thoughts."

"I hardly invaded them. I have no need for that. As of late, your thoughts permeate so strongly from you, that all I have to do is merely stand beside you to pick up on them. And when I am not beside you, they invade my thoughts." My voice softened with cloying pity. "You can barely contain your distress. Every time I come upon you, your eyes darken, glazed with a fervor that, dare I say, is not all due to the case. Look at you, young mistress. So affected by my nearness. Your tremulous breaths, quickening pulse, dilated eyes...those depraved thoughts swirling in your head even at this very moment."

And this new essence of your soul pelting me like a raging storm.

Cielle fell silent, clenching her fists. Mirroring my own ones, slightly shaking, concealed behind my back. My talon-like nails lengthened, and the fabric cladding my fingertips pulled taut. A glove ripped. I licked my fangs, entertaining the idea of breaking the contract at this very moment.

I'd lean down, place my lips upon hers. Taste her heady essence. Her hands tangled in my hair, she'd hardly pay attention to the shadowy tendrils snaking towards her. And I'd swallow her sighs, kiss her swollen lips until she grew breathless. When she needed to break for air, my gloved hands prevented her. Her eyes enlarged with fear, much too late, as I delivered her a soul-sucking kiss in my true form. There could be no other outcome. After all, I was predator and Cielle was my prey.

"Sebastian...?"

I snapped to my senses, only just growing aware of my breathlessness. How could the girl affect me in such an atrocious manner?

It took every bit of practised restraint to not act on these thoughts. "Young mistress." The voice sounded like a growl, something between the false man I played and the beast I truly was. "It is clear you find the human form I masquerade in as attractive. I cannot fault you for that. It is also clear that you have particular needs wherein I am perfectly willing to provide you relief. But do not be foolish to regard my services as anything else."

Her lip quivered. "But don't you... feel it too?"

She did not need to specify what it was. I knew damn well what it referred to, though I wished with every fibre of my monstrous being that I didn't. "What we both feel is our bond, namely the strength of the contract. There is nothing beyond that," I said, affirming that I was telling her more than myself. "If you feel more, it is merely infatuation. I suppose I cannot fault you for that either. Such a foolish thing is natural for humans of your age. But you know there is no true affection to be had. The care and comfort you've grown accustomed to is merely part of our contract, my aesthetics, and any intimacy between us is merely a falsehood. Never forget, I am only playing a role."

Cielle's eyes glistened. "O-of course, I know that!"

"Then dissolve these feelings and remember our contracted roles," I hissed. "Your role as the Queen's watchdog, your place in society, your title."

"And if I don't care a fig for those things?"

At these words, ire welled inside me. "Then I suppose you do you not care for achieving your revenge either? As this is the first time you've made the least progress with a case, especially a case that ties so closely with your past." My voice remained even, cold. "Perhaps other affairs have taken more of a priority. I always thought my mistress played the game most splendidly, but I fear you've lost your touch altogether." I knew this would strike a sore spot in her.

Cielle clenched her jaw. "Unraveling the case will always be my first and foremost priority." She looked me square in the eye, bristling with vehemence. "I shall allow no one, absolutely no one, to spoil my game."

I dimly smiled. "I am most pleased to hear that."

More genuine words could not be uttered. Once we resumed our previous interactions, I was certain my impeccable control would return to me. Perhaps the new essence of Cielle's soul that triggered my restraint would soon dull.

The young mistress shifted her feet and stared below. "The headmaster—Delacourt—approached me this morning. I've never seen him in such a foul mood. Blasted fool had to nerve to say this case is over my head."

"I can imagine," I said, relieved for the return to normalcy. "Especially after Miss Sullivan's disappearance. Try as he may to feign a pretense of being level-headed, I've sensed a pervading cloud of frustration and anxiousness surrounding him the moment he stepped into the manor. However, now that has increased tenfold."

"Nothing I wouldn't expect."

"Indeed. His vice chancellor is no better. It may be of interest to you that Miss Hulda exhibits more anxiety than even him. Every time I come upon her in the staff room, she seems in a perpetual state of hesitation and confusion.

"That is interesting," Cielle murmured. "Have you found anything else?"

"I discovered from another faculty that the headmaster has temporarily suspended Elsa Zwolfer from the academy. I presume he took the precaution after seeing the world 'Zwolf' scrawled on Sullivan's wall."

"Probably. He says he cannot afford another disappearance. Apparently some of the students have begun to notice the missing girls. He pressed me relentlessly for developments on the case today."

"And how much did you reveal?"

"Enough to satisfy him. I told him I had good grounds to anticipate another abduction will take place at the Masquerade Ball."

"Ten lords a leaping or nine ladies dancing," I hummed. "I don't see a more perfect place to come upon either than at the ball."

"You may have a point. In any case, with Delacourt and Edward's cooperation—well, I have yet to write to Edward at Eton, but he'll do anything to save Lizzie—we shall tighten the nets around the cipherist this time."

"How can you be so certain? As I recall, 7-8-9-10-11-12 has escaped your clutches before. More than once."

Cielle clicked her tongue. "Well, I have a simple, but effective plan set in motion this time."

"Oh?"

"The music hall has four possible exits. One entrance in the front, one in the back, and two balconies in between. The powder room inside the hall has a tiny hopper window, but only a rat could fit through that, so we need not concern ourselves with that. Delacourt has agreed to take certain measures and place faculty members at the two entrances. All guests will be required to enter through the front entrance and leave through the back. Each will sign into a guestbook before admittance to the ball. Meanwhile, I shall station myself near the front entrance to see if I can encounter our cipherist in person. Edward will arrive with the Eton students and then patrol the grounds, seeing that no one escapes from the balconies. If any guest desires to leave, they shall leave through the back exit which you will oversee. It's a simple yet tight plan."

"I suppose so. Assuming the cipherist shows up, of course."

"He will. I know he will. After all, I still have the Stone of Lethe—which he badly wants now. And he also is hell bent on his nonsensical aesthetics." The imp caught my eye as she said this. "He is so intent on following the Twelve Days of Christmas, every line, so I fail to see why he would miss this perfect chance and spoil his aesthetics."

"Any what of the masks? How will you recognize the cipherist with his face half-covered?"

"I told Delacourt to inform the guests that a grand assortment of masks will be provided inside the ballroom. Each guest simply need to pick one to their suiting after they have signed in. The cipherist likely assumes he can saunter into the ball wearing a mask, but we will see every face going in and out of the ballroom." Her lips lifted. "Oh, add that to your list, Sebastian— two hundred masks, just to be safe."

I lowered my lids. "At least that seems more reasonable that some of your recent requests."

"When will you have it by, Sebastian?"

"I have an errand that requires me to travel to London tomorrow. Hence, I shall use that opportunity to visit Miss Nina Hopkins there and commission her to make the masks." I resisted the urge to make a face. "Though Miss Hopkins and I find each other most disagreeable, I cannot deny her exceptional talent and capability of swiftly designing outfits. If the woman could create an exquisite outfit for you during an afternoon's tea, I have little doubt she can fashion the masks we need in a timely fashion."

Cielle narrowed her eyes. "What is this other errand you have at London tomorrow?"

Instead of offering the full truth, I settled for a partial one. "Did I not mention already? I'm to pick up certain items at Great Exhibition at Hyde park—"

Cielle held up a hand. "Toiletries. For the manor. Of course, how could I forget?" Despite her annoyance, her face fell for a moment. Disappointment shadowed her lashes, and I knew exactly why.

That day was tomorrow. And I made sure outwardly, I did not seem to care at all for it.

Cielle gathered herself and looked at me, straight-faced. "Don't forget the parasol and pepper powder."

I sighed. Goodness, this petulance again? Frowning at her straight-faced expression, I tuned myself to her inner emotions. And paused. Not an inkling of artifice radiated within her. No, just unwavering determination.

"Very well," I said slowly. "I shall leave the mended parasol and condiment inside your dormitory tomorrow."

"Excellent."

As I bowed and took my leave, I questioned if my young mistress had finally gone mad.

Author's Note: Next chapter is a spicy one. Probably the spiciest thus far. I've been waiting monthhhhhs to finally write THE scene asdfghjkl; Also, the next chapter will be special in that it will be told from Cielle's view AND Sebastian's view.

As always, thank you for your ever lovely comments!