That Butler, Startled
I own nothing but my OC.
≤speech in Indian language≥
'thoughts'
"speech"
{setting/stage directions?}
SOUND EFFECTS
An entire sentence like this, without quotes, is narration for dreams or stuff like written letters.
=†=†=†=†= scene shift/time shift
—^—^—^— change of perspective/area of action within one specific time frame/location
Previously:
[As I mentioned before, I was but a somewhat unfortunate yet ordinary man.]
The coachman helped his passenger out of the coach.
[However, the affair that occurred at the manor house to which I was invited would come to change my ordinary, humdrum existence by 180 degrees.]
The doctor stared up at the manor. The doors opened, and he was welcomed inside by an elderly, smartly dressed servant.
[A number of years have passed since then… and finally I have resolved to pick up my pen once more. Herein I shall recount… all I can about the incidents that I encountered at the Phantomhive manor—the grisly events which came to pass on that dark stormy night—]
"—Hmm. So that's how it is," Ciel said, on the phone with an important source of information. "Now it all makes sense… since I'm not all that familiar with the state of affairs in Germany myself."
"Gracious! Your disagreeable traits are growing to resemble Vincent's more and more," the older man said on the other end of the phone. "… Don't do anything stupid now."
"I won't," Ciel promised. "Speak to you soon." He hung up the phone.
"Young Master, it is nearly time," Sebastian announced, opening the study's door to speak to him.
"Right," Ciel said. He paused to glance out the window and furrowed his brow at the dark, cloudy sky. "It looks like rain."
=†=†=†=†=†=
SHHH.
The rain hit them fast, pattering against the window panes so hard that Chêne could hear it over the others talking. She hoped Jasper II would be alright in the kitty shelter she made for her. She did make sure it was raised well above the flood line when she built it.
"Awww, bother~! It's started to pour," Finni said, staring up at the kitchen window.
"Hohhh!" Tanaka said, staring with him.
"Don'tcha think it's 'cos that young master of ours is doin' somethin' outta the ordinary?" Bard suggested with a smirk.
"Bard!! You're being rude!" Mei-Rin scolded him. She and Chêne were carrying plates and silverware to the dinning room to finish setting up for their guests.
"I haven't seen a rain like this since we did a rain dance in Girl Scouts and accidentally summoned a tropical storm..." Chêne mumbled under her breath, but Sebastian caught it as he entered the room and smirked. That must have been some dance. He put on a more serious expression and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.
CLAP. CLAP.
"The dinner party has not been rained out! No staring off into space now!" he reminded them. "The guests will be arriving at any moment. When guiding the guests through to the dining room, remember it should be done by order of their status! Avoid mistakes! Please have them wait in the vestibule upon entry. Understand!?"
"Yes!!" Finni and Chêne answered promptly, as they and everyone but Bard saluted.
"Yes, I do!" said Mei-rin.
"Yeppp," Bard said.
"Hoh!" Tanaka chimed in.
=†=†=†=†=†=
In the vestibule (which Chêne liked to think of as the 'main foyer') the doctor stood all alone, watching the other guests chat with each other.
'What am I… even doing here?' he asked himself, sweating nervously. Despite the forced smile on his face, it was obvious he was uncomfortable with the social situation. All of the other guests were dressed finely, while all he had was his tweed suit. 'Why, that's Irene, the opera singer, isn't it?' he thought, looking at the beautiful blonde woman talking to a man with a seahorse earring in one ear. 'And isn't the man beside her the stage director Grimsby Keane?' The other two conversing with each other were a timid man and bold man with a hands flush with the sparkle of diamonds. 'Not to mention that fellow there is the son of a distinguished shipbuilding magnate.' Couldn't say he looked one, though. The man with him laughed. 'And that loud fellow has diamonds on all his fingers!' How rich was he!? 'And then you have someone like me, who's not even in evening dress...' He felt something bump into him. "Ah. Excuse m—!?" he started to apologize politely out of habit, when he found himself staring at a healthy bosom. It belonged to a beautiful Chinese lady in a revealing dress, who was accompanied by a Chinese man in traditional formal dress from his country.
"Aah, excuse me," Lau said to him, also taking a polite tone. "You mustn't look away in a situation like this! Where's your apology for the nice man, hmm?" he told Ran-Mao.
"Sorry," Ran-Mao apologized quietly.
"N—! Not at all!!" the doctor said quickly, blushing out of embarrassment. "A-Are the two of you actors as well?" he asked. 'What kind of clothing is that!?' Her legs were entirely exposed…!!
"No, no. I am but a humble branch manager with a trading company, just a hired hand," Lau answered calmly. "My name is Lau. This is my little sister, Ran-Mao. Well… what about you?"
"I am an oculist… who does a bit of writing on the side..." Arthur mumbled nervously.
"How very fine! Why, that makes you quite the professor!" said Lau.
"Nothing of the sort!! I'm just an amateur, more like," the doctor said humbly. "I've never even had the honor of meeting the earl, and I don't understand in the slightest why I've been invited..."
"Who can saaay? I for one can never fathom what the moody earl may be thinking. Isn't that sooo, Ran-Mao~?" Lau said, poking her in the cheek.
"Eh!?" the doctor said, flinching a little and sweat-dropping. He paled a little with trepidation. "Is he really that moo—" Lau opened his eyes.
"… Something amusing will come out of all this without a doubt…" the Chinese man told him with a smile. "Of that I am quite sure."
"Eh?" the doctor said, a little taken aback. Just what did that…? Lau closed his eyes again.
"Moreover, the earl has a very staunch aversion to society and is renowned as a rare character who hardly ever shows himself," Lau continued in a lighter tone. "I think this might well be the first time he has ever welcomed guests to his home? What luck for you, Professor!"
"What sort of person is this earl!?" the doctor asked, becoming more anxious by the minute.
"Now let meee seee," Lau said, tapping his chin with his finger. "He's a very proud fellow, who typically wears and expression somewhere between sour and angry."
"Eeeeh!?" the doctor said, paling more as he pictured an older man with noble features and a disdainful expression on his face.
"And his eyepatch, which would not be amiss on a pirate, seems to have quite the story behind it, and…" Lau added, enjoying the effect it had on his fellow guest.
"EEH!? An eyepatch!?" the doctor exclaimed, picturing a grizzled older man with rugged features, an eyepatch, and a mustache that connected seamlessly with his sideburns and a vein throbbing on his forehead.
"Why don't you leave your teasing of my guest at that?" a young boy's voice said, calling their attention to the landing at the top of the stairs. There stood Ciel, in all his glory.
"Eh… a child?" the doctor asked without any ill intention, surprised.
"Yes! That little boy is Earl Phantomhive!" Lau said, smiling. "Isn't he just adorable?"
"The 'little' is unnecessary!" Ciel snapped with a vein mark on his head.
"Seee? He's angry now," Lau said, shrugging, while the doctor continued to stare at the young earl, stunned.
"Ahem! I thank you for accepting my invitation on this occasion. I am the head of this family, Ciel Phantomhive," Ciel said, introducing himself with dignity. "Ladies and gentlemen, those of you with whom I am acquainted through your continued patronage and those I am meeting for the first time, I hope you will allow me to extend my greetings to you anew in person once the banquet is underway." He noticed two people weren't there yet. "The guest of honor appears to be missing?" he said to Sebastian.
"It would seem the foul weather has delayed his arrival," Sebastian replied.
"Well, that's just great," Ciel said. "We can't have everyone waiting in the hall like this—"
"Pardon me, but the guest of honor has arrived," Chêne announced discretely when she saw Tanaka open the door to admit Charles Grey and an older man with grey hair and a large nose.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Georg von Siemens," the stranger introduced himself politely, despite his somewhat stern expression. "Thank you for your kind invitation."
"Hiiiya! Is the party set to go?" Grey said brightly.
"I apologize for having kept you waiting on my account," Siemens told Ciel, shaking his hand.
"Not at all," said Ciel. "I thank you for traveling at such length to be here. Let us exchange greetings once the party has begun. Tonight's dinner is buffet-style, so everyone may speak freely with one another. This way please." He turned and led Grey and Siemens into the dinning room himself.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I shall announce each of you, so please go through to the dinning room when your name is called," Sebastian said, taking charge. "First…"
—^—^—^—
All of the guests made it through to the dinning room without incident. The room glowed with warm light from the chandeliers and the glasses and silverware glistened gently in the soft light. The main courses were laid out on tables so that guests could be served or help themselves, while Chêne and Mei-Rin carried trays of hors d'oeuvres and drinks around the room for the guests to snack on if they preferred lighter fare.
"When his father was prime minister, word of the man's shrewdness reached even as far as Germany," Georg von Siemens, honorary board member of Bamberger Bank, said, referring to Grey. "Still, I must say, he is the spitting image of his grandfather."
"Speaking of Earl Grey, he hails from a family of such repute as to have lent its name to a tea. I never imagined a day would come when I could personally offer him my compliments," said the man with the diamonds, Karl Woodley, president of the Woodley Company (diamond polishers).
"As I've only just inherited my title, I think Earl Phantomhive plays the part far better than I," Grey said with a shit-eating grin.
"Hardly. I still have much to learn," Ciel replied with polite modesty. "I've but managed to start up my company as earl. As far as business is concerned, Mister Woodley is the clear expert in such matters."
"You are too modest, my lord!" Woodley said with a grin. "… Haha!"
"Especially considering how the art of diamond polishing will become an important technology that supports the heavy industries. To have among her colonies diamond-producing nations is a major advantage for Great Britain," said Siemens. "Even in my country, heavy industries such as steel and shipbuilding are showing growth of late, and our bank is considering focusing most of its efforts on them and their like. We may be no match for Great Britain now, but we will most certainly catch up one of these days, you'll see."
"Hahaha! We mustn't let down our guard, eh, Mister Phelps?" Woodley laughed, patting Phelps on the shoulder.
"Eh!?" Phelps, board member of the trading division of Blue Star Line (shipbuilding and shipping), said nervously. "Y-Yes, I suppose you're right." Despite Woodley's laugh, it was obvious to Chêne that both men were nervous. She didn't blame them, not when she considered everything that happened during WWI when they did reach that point. Thankfully, that should still be about 25 years away, considering the timeline of the world she originally came from.
"Lord Earl. Would you introduce me as well?" Lau requested.
"Very well," Ciel said. "Allow me to introduce Mister Lau, British branch manager of the Shanghai trading company 'Kong-Rong'."
"Kong-Rong…!?" Phelps said nervously, startled by the name. Lau glanced at him out the corner of his eye. Phelps paled and flinched big time. He obviously knew who Lau really was.
"How do you do, sir? I am Lau," he greeted Siemens, bowing.
"You must possess an extensive network to have a branch in Great Britain..." Siemens observed. "Wha—!?" he exclaimed, surprised when Ran-Mao left Lau's side to cling to him, squishing her soft chest up against his arm. "Wha-wha-wha-wha—!?"
"Dear, dear. Really now, Ran-Mao," Lau chided her lightly. "I do beg your pardon, sir. She can be such a baby," he said with an indulgent smile. "We have a wide network, but we've yet to intrude upon Germany."
"Hey! Wah! Stop that!" Siemens told Ran-Mao as she snuggled closer, blushing.
"I do hope to learn many things from you for future reference," Lau said.
"I—I understand, so please get away from me," Siemens said urgently, shoving Ran-Mao away from himself as quickly as he could without hurting her.
"Oh?" Lau said, surprised.
"If it's Germany that interests you, I'll tell you all about it at length tomorrow," Siemens said sweat-dropping, still blushing. "I'm curious about the situation in Asia myself."
"He doesn't seem to have enjoyed that," Lau noted wryly.
"What do you think you're doing...?" Ciel asked him, sweat-dropping.
"Mini quiche, Miss?" Chêne asked Ran-Mao with a smile, offering the Chinese girl her pick of the tray, hoping they would both behave themselves if they had some food to distract them. Ran-Mao accepted the first one a bit hesitantly, but as soon as she tasted it, she took a second.
"Are they yummy?" Lau asked her. He received a firm nod in confirmation. "Then, I'll have to try some too~"
"Excuse us for interrupting," said Grimsby Keane, stage director. "Thank you for inviting us tonight," he thanked Ciel on behalf of himself and Irene, the opera singer. Almost all of the men were dazzled by her good looks and 'star quality'.
"I am honored to meet the songstress and director who are capable of filling every last seat at the National Theatre," Siemens said.
"I am Irene Diaz," she said with a graceful curtsy, even though it was obvious they all knew who she and her escort were.
"And I am Grimsby Keane," he added confidently.
"Even people in Germany are talking about how beautiful your productions are," Siemens told Grimsby. "I would very much like to have you perform in Germany with Miss Irene. "If it's a question of financing, we can discuss that as well."
"Is that so? I find that most heartening," said Grimsby, while the doctor fidgeted nervously behind him.
"Ah," the doctor tried to start, when he was cut off.
"I have and idea for a set I'd like to try staging at the Berlin National Opera House!" Grimsby said.
"Um!" the doctor tried again, his heart beating hard in his chest.
"Oh-hoh!" said Siemens.
"I'm—ah!" the doctor tried anxiously. "I mean, I am..."
"Well then!" Grey said brightly, cutting him off again. "That should be it for introductions, so what do you say to a toast!?"
"Ar—" the doctor continued bravely, falling short when he saw everyone moving on without him.
"Why, English beer isn't bad at all!" Siemens said, pleasantly surprised by what they served him.
"Cheers!" everyone said, raising their glasses.
"..." the doctor stared at them as they all made merry without him, and he felt his courage desert him. He turned away and retreated with a glum expression on his face.
"Oh, Mister Siemens! You sure can hold your liquor, sir!!"
"Earl Grey drinks like a fish too!"
"Haah..." the doctor sighed heavily in his chair against the wall, listening to the rain pelt the windowpanes behind him. Seriously, what was he doing there?
"Would you care for a drink?" someone offered kindly, holding a tray of full wine glasses out to him.
"Thank you..." the doctor said, looking up to see that it was the unaccountably attractive butler. 'Uwah…! What a captivating air and handsome face he has!' he thought as the other man smiled politely, 'Like a character out of an Oscar Wilde novel.' The doctor watched him go in a daze. 'So high-class people have high-class servants, huh?' He took a sip of wine. 'Why on earth was I invited to this place…?' he wondered again, feeling a little sad. He was starting to want to go home.
"May I sit here next to you?" someone asked.
"Yes," he replied, not really paying attention. "Of c—" He froze when he realized he was talking to his host, the young earl. "M-My lord!?" he exclaimed, shooting to his feet. Ciel was a little surprised by such an extreme reaction.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Ciel asked. He had noticed from across the room that he seemed down.
"Y-Y-Yes!" the doctor managed to stutter out despite the shock, blushing out of embarrassment.
"Please do sit down, Professor," Ciel told him with a quiet laugh, gesturing to the chair next to him that he had just vacated.
"I am not yet in any position to be called 'professor', I assure you… I'm just Arthur," the doctor said humbly as he sat back down, still nervous.
"But I'd like to call you 'professor'?" Ciel told him, leaning forward in his chair a little, looking up at him with a slight smile on his face. "Do you still object… Professor?"
"No… uh… that isn't..." Arthur said nervously, finding it hard to turn him down. "… Um. This may be a rude question, but… why did you invite me here today?"
"I read the story you wrote, just the other day," Ciel replied.
"Huh!?" Arthur said, surprised.
"The long piece that was published in Beeton's," Ciel clarified, since he seemed confused.
"Eeh!? You've read such an obscure magazine!?" Arthur asked, taken aback.
"As the owner of a company that deals in trends, I make it a point to run my eye over everything… Is something wrong?" Ciel asked when he saw the stunned way Arthur was staring at him.
"So even someone with the social standing of an earl reads such magazines, eh, my lord?" Arthur asked.
"Heh. Status has nothing to do with it," Ciel said. "On top of that, my consumers are common folk. I read Punch as well! The protagonist of your work was really quite rich in wit and charming to boot. He's an altogether new kind of character."
"Eeh!? Is that so!?" Arthur said excitedly, jumping a little in surprise.
"I can't believe the people of the most advanced nation in the world don't understand the novelty of your work."
"On the contrary," Arthur said. "Because I pretentiously wrote about something outside the realm of my expertise… in the end experts in those fields criticized the content as being too frivolous, the tools of their trades being used incorrectly."
"Let them talk," Ciel told him. "You wrote your work for the masses, didn't you, Professor? If they enjoy it, that's enough. My head maid enjoyed it so much that she's sure you will become incredibly famous someday. She's looking forward to a sequel. She has an uncanny instinct for these things."
"Oh, no I wouldn't go that far!" Arthur said quickly, blushing deeply at the high praise. It made him wonder which of the maids he was talking about. His eyes landed on the short one with brown hair and green eyes. Even though she seemed younger, she also seemed to be more capable and composed. "I find that highly unlikely. In truth, I would like to write a historical story, but any number of publishers have rejected my idea, saying it will not sell."
"How about writing something of that sort once your name has been established?" Ciel suggested. Woodley looked at him out the corner of his eye. "It's a case of the law of increasing returns, where those who have money and fame can obtain still more. Praised as they might be for being authorities and the like, the fact is the number of authors who produce rubbish is very great..."
"Yes!! That's just it!!" Grimsby said, joining in. He walked over to them holding a glass of wine. His cheeks looked a little flushed from the alcohol. "I find it utterly unforgivable! There are senile hardheads throwing their weight around in my industry as well. I simply can't stand for it!" he said, looming over them. "If it's just reciting the old classics of the theatre, why even a complete novice can do that. Don't you think?"
"I-Indeed," Ciel said. "The craftsmanship of your productions, from the backdrops to the costumes, are truly splendid, sir."
"Of course, one who is always on the cutting edge himself would recognize the differences!" Grimsby said, gratified to find someone with proper appreciation for his work. He put an arm around the young earl. "Even just once, I'd dearly love to work with an entrepreneur who appreciates my work like my lord here. How about it? What do you say to us working together?"
"Yes, one of these days..." Ciel said, sweat-dropping. Chêne thought that might be a good idea. They could market products based on the play's characters or something like that. Ciel's lack of personal space looked like he could use a bit of saving, so Chêne moved to offer them some mini quiches from her tray, when there came a commotion from the other side of the room.
"I've asked you to please stop that, sir!" Irene shouted, sounding distressed. They all turned to look in her direction and saw that she was having a confrontation with Siemens. "You insist on laying your lecherous hands upon my person… and I can't stand it anymore!!" she yelled, covering herself with her arms.
" 'Hat was thaaat?" Siemens leered, looking extremely drunk with his red face, slurred speech, and bowtie tied around his head. Mister Phelps was fretting nervously behind him, clearly wishing to stop him but lacking the courage to do so. "T'e one gaddin' 'bout in the clothes like that's t'e one in t'e wrong!"
'Clothes like that…?' Chêne thought dubiously, frowning at the man with disapproval. Irene was wearing a perfectly normal dress from the era. Besides, he already had Ran-Mao willingly hanging onto him. What did he need to bother Irene for?
"Truth is you wanna be touched, don'tcha?" Siemens continued, getting close to touch her again. "Stop playin' the innocent li'l lamb!" Chêne's hands were shaking a little from the effort it took not to fling her tray at the lech's head like a frisbee. Sebastian noticed and shot her a look to remind her to behave herself. If intervention was required, that would be Ciel's duty as the host. They shouldn't assault guests without his permission.
'I know, I know…!' Chêne thought, tightening her grip on the tray. 'But it pisses me of!!'
"!!" Irene gasped when he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into his arms. "You awful man! For shame!!" she yelled, slapping him across the face to make him let go. Since words had no effect on him, maybe a little pain would. The sound of the slap echoed through the room.
SLAPPP!
Siemens stumbled and fell. He trembled with anger. A vein throbbed on his forehead.
"Why, you..." he said darkly, glaring up at the opera singer. "How dare you!!" He threw the contents of the beer glass he was holding at her.
SPLASH.
Irene ducked and braced herself for an attack that never reached her. At the last second, Ciel had managed to rush across the room and place himself between her and the flying alcohol, and he was baptized in beer in her stead. He was dripping with it.
"My lord…!!" Arthur exclaimed with concern.
"This is a banquet," Ciel said. "Please do try to restrain yourselves and leave it at that for the evening." Siemens looked away, but quieted down. Irene looked at the young earl with concern, feeling bad that he had to get soaked on her behalf. Others were not so easily calmed.
"… You dirty old codger!!" Grimsby roared furiously, grabbing a bottle of wine from the ice bucket. "Don't you dare touch my woman… as you please!" Before anyone could stop him, he hurled it at Siemen's head. It was about to hit him square in the face, when Sebastian intervened. The butler leaped high into the air and grabbed the bottle mid-flip. He landed on top of a ladder and seamlessly transitioned into pouring the wine over a towering pyramid of champagne glasses. The sweet, soothing scent of the wine filled the air. Everyone stared up at him in amazement.
"This is a fabled wine from Purcari village in southeast Moldova," Sebastian said, displaying the bottle for everyone to see. "Please do enjoy it, ladies and gentlemen."
"How exquisite… What is this tree!?" Siemens exclaimed.
"When in the world did you..." Phelps wondered.
"And this aroma! I feel like I'm in a flowerbed..." Siemens said, sniffing the air.
"Smells deliiish! Can I have a glass?" Grey asked brightly, finishing off his beer in one gulp.
"M-Me too!" Siemens said, not to be out done.
"And meee!" Lau said lightly. Chêne carefully removed several glasses from the wine tree and placed them on trays so she and Mei-Rin could serve the guests. Grey took two at a time. The atmosphere became light and cheery. While the maids took care of that, Sebastian retrieved a towel for their wet young master.
"Um… Thank y—" Irene tried to thank Sebastian, but he swiftly ignored her and made a beeline for Ciel.
"Are you all right, Young Master?" he asked, wasting no time in drying him off.
"Quite," Ciel answered. Grimsby gritted his teeth while he watched Irene watch Sebastian, feeling a little jealous. "In any case..." Ciel peered across the room at Siemens and saw that he was drinking with gusto again, only now he was targeting Mei-Rin. He had his arm around her, and she had paled with shock. Fortunately, he appeared to be leaving Chêne alone, but she was obviously concerned with trying to figure out how to save poor Mei-Rin without causing another disturbance.
"So that's what becomes of that stuffed shirt of a man once liquor's involved, eh?" Ciel said, switching languages. "Seeing him like this, I'd have to say he and the bottle are no strangers."
'They're speaking French...' Arthur thought.
"Heh! Even so, seeing him incapable of self-discipline makes me think him either an utter fool or perfectly shameless," Sebastian said.
"He is stricken with an illness that even the doctors would be hopeless to cure," Ciel agreed.
"Pfft!" Arthur laughed. "Ah…!" he quickly covered his mouth when he realized. Ciel and Sebastian were looking at him now.
"Shh," Ciel shushed him quietly, holding a finger to his lips. Arthur blushed a little out of embarrassment for being caught.
"So, we're speaking French now?" Chêne asked them, calling attention to her arrival at their sides.
"Only for the moment," Ciel replied. "Did you need something?"
"I need help rescuing Mei-Rin..." she answered, sweat-dropping. Sebastian glanced in the other maid's direction. Mei-Rin looked like she was on the verge of tears.
"She seems to be holding up," the butler said with a shit-eating grin.
"She shouldn't have to," Chêne retorted with a brilliant shit-eating grin of her own. She was sparkling. Ciel sweat-dropped.
"Very well," Sebastian said. He could see she was serious. "Young Master?"
"Just do it," Ciel said, waving him off.
'Amazing...' Arthur thought. To speak to her superior servant and master in such a manner, and get away with it… And she had such a beautiful smile, even if there was an edge to it. "Um, by any chance… are you the head maid?" he asked her.
"Yes," Chêne answered, blinking, wondering why he was asking. "Can I help you with something?"
"Ah, no! Thank you…" Arthur said, blushing bright red as he recalled the high praise she had given him and his story. "I was just wondering…" From across the room, Sebastian glanced at him out the corner of his eye, ignoring Mei-Rin's struggle to express her gratitude over his successfully switching Siemen's grip from her to a wine bottle without shedding tears of relief in front of the guests.
=†=†=†=†=†=
"—Hm? Has Lord Siemens fallen asleep?" Grey asked, looking at the snoring German seated next to him, while he took another sip of wine. Siemens still had his arm around Ran-Mao, who was looking curiously at him. Lau also took a look at the snoozing German man.
"Yes, so it would seem..." Phelps said, sweat-dropping. He and Woodley actually seemed almost as relieved as Mei-Rin. Chêne noticed that Ciel seemed in danger of nodding off himself.
"Sebastian. Take him to his room," Ciel ordered, standing up. "I'll be retiring myself." He turned to face the rest of his guests as Sebastian hoisted the sleeping Siemens onto his back to carry him to bed. "Forgive me. I will be taking my leave now as well."
"Oh? Lord Earl, off to bed already?" Lau asked.
"It's rather past bedtime for a child such as I," Ciel replied. "Please stay and enjoy yourselves at your leisure, everyone." Chêne quietly shut the doors behind them as they left.
"Shall we play a game of billiards?" Grimsby suggested.
"Oh, that sounds fun!" said Irene.
"I should have brought my own cue!" Grimsby said.
"Oh-hoh! You must be good then!" Lau remarked.
"..." Grey quietly drank his beer while he stared at the doors the earl had just disappeared through.
"... You become a child only when it is convenient," Sebastian remarked with a smirk as he walked down the hall next to his master, carrying Siemens. A vein throbbed on Ciel's head.
"Hold your tongue," he told the butler shortly.
=†=†=†=†=†=
{Downstairs...}
It was just a little after one o'clock according to the clock on the wall in the kitchen.
"Th-That was terrible, I tell you, terribleee~!" Mei-Rin sobbed, crying on one of the kitchen counters while the others worked on cleaning up and putting away the dishes they had cleared away from the buffet. Sebastian washed, Chêne dried, and Bard and Finni put everything away. "I will never be a briiide!"
"Why? It's not like you're the dirty one, Mei-Rin," Chêne said, furrowing her brow with concern and frowning at the thought of being touched like that. "None of that was your fault."
"She's right, so stop whinin' and get to work!" Bard told Mei-Rin, making Chêne sweat-drop.
"You could be a little more sympathetic, Bard…" Chêne told him before looking back at Mei-Rin. "Although, we would appreciate if you would help us out."
RING. RING.
They could hear one of the bells from the Upstairs rooms ringing.
"Could you get that?" Chêne asked her fellow maid. Her hands were full.
"Y-Yes, Missus Chêne..." Mei-Rin said, sniffing and wiping her eyes. She moved to check which room it was and paled. "Geh!" she said, flinching in shock. "It's coming from Lord Siemens' room, it is!"
"Maybe he just woke up and wants some water?" Bard suggested.
"I don't want to gooo, really, I don't," Mei-Rin cried nervously, shaking like a leaf.
"Then come do the drying, and I'll go instead," Chêne told her.
"I shall accompany you," Sebastian said, removing his apron.
"Mi-Mister Sebastian! Are you worried about Missus Chêne, are you?" Mei-Rin asked. They made such a nice couple.
"He didn't seem interested in me, so I should be fine," Chêne said. If he tried anything serious, she would teach him a lesson.
"I am also worried about Siemens," Sebastian said. He could more or less guess what she was thinking and wanted to avoid an incident, even though he, too, would have a hard time controlling the urge to attack the man if he touched her. "He was very drunk after all..."
"That's true," Chêne agreed, holding her chin. "He drank so much, he might be in danger of getting alcohol poisoning."
"I think you're the last person who should comment on that," Bard told her, recalling how easily she out drank him before. She could drink like a fish when she wanted to.
—^—^—^—
Lightning flashed through the window as Sebastian and Chêne walked down the hall together. The rain beat loudly against the panes.
"It's raining very hard..." Chêne remarked a little awkwardly. Things were still a little strained between the two of them, so being alone together was…
"I do hope it lets up somewhat..." Sebastian said while he carried the water pitcher, also feeling the distance between them, despite his wish to erase it. She still loved him, he knew that. But forgiveness seemed harder to come by, and he was becoming impatient. They reached the door.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
"Lord Siemens, did you send for us?" Sebastian asked.
"Guh! GWAAAAH!!" Siemens groaned and screamed from within the room.
SMASH! THUD.
"!?" Chêne gasped as she and Sebastian furrowed their brows with concern.
"What was that? What's going on in there!?" Chêne demanded, knocking on the door again. "Lord Siemens!" There was no answer. "Lord Siemens!" she called louder, growing more concerned. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Sebastian, the door—"
"Something wrong? What's all the fuss?" Grey called, leading the other guests their way.
"Let us kick in the door," Sebastian said, handing the water pitcher to Chêne.
WHAM!
Sebastian kicked the door down with extraordinary force, ripping it from its hinges. The damaged door fell flat on the floor inside the room.
"Lo—" Chêne started to call again, when she looked in and froze. "!!"
"!!!" all of the guests gasped in shock behind her. Everyone paled except for Grey, Lau, and Ran-Mao. There, sitting in a chair in front of a fire, was Siemens. He lay there limply, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and the front of his shirt was stained crimson red. The whole morbid scene was illuminated by a flash of lightning.
"Kyaaaaaaaah!!" Irene screamed.
"Uwaaaaah!!" Phelps cried.
"Ah! Mister Phelps!!" Woodley exclaimed, startled when the nervous man fainted.
"Excuse me!" Arthur said, rushing forth from the crowd to check Siemens' vitals. Sebastian held his chin while he observed. Chêne furrowed her brow in confusion.
"… He's dead!!" Arthur announced gravely, pale with shock.
[At that moment, not a single one of us ever imagined—or rather, could not have imagined that his death would come to be a mere prologue.
The rumbling thunder and the deluge of rain was akin to a benediction by the Devil's orchestra—the curtain had risen on the Phantomhive manor murders.]
