Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler, period
I would like to thank KuroNazgul for beta reading this chapter and sorry it took so long but it wasn't easy to find time to write or think of what I wanted to write. Anyways, hope this next arc isn't too bad.
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Tedious... A word Ian uses a lot to describe his life. Somedays he thinks about what life would be like if he was born in a greenland, where all they do is plow the fields, water the plants and feed the cattle before eating them, instead of being born the protégé of a revered family name. On the other hand, he really hates the sun.
After burning the folder he was put in a detention center... for a thirty minute conversation with an official because he was young and hasn't gotten into trouble in his thirteen years of life.
He was soon released despite how divided the airport security was towards him: some just thought his actions could be summed up to a kid enjoying his youth, the rest really wanted to give him an actual punishment so he wouldn't do any more misbehavior.
The latter would be surprised of the actions the young Earl was responsible for.
Ian opened the door to his limousine and sat down, Emile taking over the driver seat. Ian enjoyed the tranquility of just him sitting alone in the back of the limo. That good feeling ended when the new maid, Helen, and only incompetent butler Haru squished into the back, nearly pushing Ian to the door.
"Hello, Mas...nope, can't say it." Helen said. She looked at his little face smushed against the car door, shrugged her shoulders. "Tit-tat, who asks for someone to be their new maid and doesn't make room for them?"
Emile adjusted his mirror from his master to the new maid, she was going to be a treat to his hard life.
XXX
A taxi pulled up at the side of the curb from the Phantom Hive manor, the windows roiling smoke out in the backseat" I don't understand what you want to say here."
Once the cab stopped, a suitcase was carelessly thrown out of the side driver door.
The person who stepped out was in his mid-thirties, very large shouldered, wore a green stripped jacket with a hat a cab driver would wear, had orange eyes, sideburns and black loafers.
He just glared at the man in the front seat of the cab, who stuck his finger through the window to flip him the bird before driving away.
The big shouldered man turned his attention away from the cab driver he had a dispute with to the PhantomHive manor where he was going to go to. He had an envelope in his breast pocket he was waiting to stick out.
He rang the door bell.
"I'll get it!" Two people roared in excitement.
He stood perfectly still while the two made the loudest footsteps around the mansion. When the door opened he was greeted by two rubbery cheeks smooched together: a short blonde haired butler and a pigtailed maid.
The man, not being able to help himself, used his stick to lift up the maid uniform until her panties were shown to him: pink.
The maid flushed red but backtracked from the door. Together, she and the butler bowed their head repeating a warm welcome.
"Welcome to the PhantomHive Manor. The master is not here right-"
The man turned around and walked away before they could finish explaining the situation to him. He just got back in his cab, turned the key while his mustache twitched, then drove down the street in a rather bad way—he almost rammed into another car driving down the street.
The two dumbfounded maid and butler were left standing asking themselves one question:
"Who was that guy?"
XXX
Ian was more focused on what the lazy classmates of his were doing rather than the lesson being lectured by his professor.
His professor was a D-Cup teacher wearing a white shirt, blue blouse, glossy flowing blonde hair, big glasses, and pink lipstick. Ian was at half attention; he could write his notes faster than the rest of the students, but his mind was drifting to a moment in his past—a promise he made to the dashingly handsome, callous butler Emile.
He was taken out of his deep thoughts by the door's crackling sound, when it was opened and a broad shouldered, big mustached man stepped inside.
His arrival only perked the teachers' attention.
"Excuse me...who are you?"
He remained silent-he stride up to the teacher herself. No one reacted to this at first, thought he was going to whisper something so she could call a student out, but then he used his cane to lift up her blouse exposing the microcotton blue panties under her blouse.
All the students in the room except for Ian gasped at the sexual harassment just displayed before their eyes. Some were yammering with envy, some were furious with him, but he had the gull to do it while they were too much of chicken skins to do anything.
The man leaned his mouth on the teachers' right ear. She nodded, pulled up her blouse, then cleared her throat.
"Ian Phantomhive. This man says he's your Uncle and will be taking you out of class today for family matters. Please remember to check the school website for your notes."
A smile appeared fleetingly on Ian's face, a sort of smarmy look that said 'I know he's not my uncle, but this class is so tedious I'll do anything to get out of it'. With his cane gently squeezed and a little pep in his step, he followed the man out of the classroom.
"Earl Kugul...still being as lecherous as you were when the last queen died I see."
"Ian Phantomhive. Your doing well for a boy who never took cooking classes with his parents. I mean, it's spaghetti with sausage sauce, do you make baby food out of that?"
"Yes, you either have a passion for cooking or you don't get to eat everyday if you are not well off. Please tell me why your here and try to tell me what it has to do with women and me."
"I'm here because new evidence of your ancestor Ciel PhantomHive has been uncovered." He reached in his breastpocket taking out an envelope. He handed it to Ian who looked at him morbidly. "I didn't read it if that's what your thinking. I'm too busy wondering who is skimming money from one of my hotels."
Ian hoped he didn't grow up to be this deplorable of an entrepreneur, but his only concern was what was written on the letter which he grabbed from his hand.
He opened the letter, and his fingertips were splotched with really old ink instead of the more modern text letters. A quick skim through the letter told him it was written by someone who was born in the nineteenth century; and from what he heard about his lineage this person could only be his great grandmother Elizabeth.
It is a beautiful sunny day outside but I'm distraught.
Today Baldroy finally succumbed to all those cigarette's he keeps smoking and developed lung cancer. Since Ciel disappeared I tried telling him to cut down but he seemed to always need a long break of sitting in the kitchen table while puffing a cigarette to contemplate what he's been through.
Finnian works on the garden as usual but he has this somber look on his face and is always fidgeting even when no one has disturbed him.
Mey-Rin needs time to perch on the rooftop and stare out into the horizon with her glasses off.
I-I just don't know how to manage them. I know Ciel never really took their work seriously and only kept them because they were good if not tragic people but I don't really have anything to say or anything to do, and Paula hasn't come back in over three months. This wasn't how I pictured my future growing up, all morbidness, loneliness, and a heart that crackles more each day with a wound on my once porcelain arms.
If anyone is reading this, my name is Elizabeth Midford and I am losing my mind.
Ian finished reading feeling a little saddened.
"Sad isn't it?" Kugul said with a voice of a piano teacher that couldn't be bothered to teach his students anything. "She lived the rest of her life alone and miserable—so tell me how she managed to give birth to your great great grandfather?"
"My blood; there have been plenty of tests that prove I'm a legitimate child of the smart and wealthy PhantomHive family."
Ian didn't want a crackle to show he himself was second guessing where his lineage truly lied. Kugul just looked at him in an uncomfortable way.
"There's nothing wrong with not being the protégé of a wealthy family...or anything wrong with being a bastard for that matter. All I know is I have been pining for your company for exactly eight months and thirteen days and it won't be sold to me, because it was not for sale by you. You...a boy who spends all his time in school, throwing festoons outside for your future school dances and stuffing his face with sugary drinks and pastries."
"Better to be a kid than a pervert who can't stop himself from groping poor girls," Ian remarked.
Ian could see from the winch on his face he wanted to strike him across the face. One of these days he would be hit by someone older and more sure of themselves than him, but for now all he could do was make outward threats.
"In three days my lawyers will have concocted a compelling case. Don't even try to leave town again, your lineage is nothing but a fraud and I will prove it."