Bachelor parties—or pre-bachelor parties, as the case was—were overrated. No one was really doing much of anything. Nothing scandalous was going on, except for perhaps drinking and gambling, which is what they all did on a regular basis anyway. Sebastian didn't see why they had to send the women away. He wondered what they were doing and whether Eleanora was alright.
The Undertaker poured him another glass of wine.
The topics discussed weren't at all secretive. They talked about business and they talked about life and they talked about what they were going to do to Jean Michaelis if they learned that he was cheating. Nothing unusual.
The Undertaker poured him another glass of wine.
The young Master was looking bored, and Sebastian couldn't blame him. He was bored as well, and he could understand what they were talking about. He could hardly imagine what it was like to listen to a bunch of men talk without knowing the language.
The Undertaker poured him another glass of wine. Then he shook the bottle and raised it triumphantly over his head.
"It's done!" he shouted. "He finished it!"
Then all of the men stood up with cheers and shouts and began slapping Sebastian on the back for some reason, making him almost choke on his last swallow of wine.
"What is it?" he said. "What's going on?"
Jean stood in front of him, smirking.
"Congratulations, me boy," he said. "The wedding is now officially on!"
More cheers and calls for more wine. Someone even offered Ciel a glass, which he declined. He had seen the effects on Eleanora and didn't want that to happen to him.
Sebastian blinked.
"What do you mean, 'the wedding is officially on?' It's been officially on for months now!"
"Ah, but now there's no turning back!" Jean grinned down at his son. "Your purification ritual has just started!"
"MY WHAT?!"
"Happy purification ceremony!" Jean shouted and the men started throwing confetti.
Sebastian scoffed.
"That's ridiculous. The purification ceremony was dropped centuries ago. It's old hat, now."
"That's precisely what we wanted you to think," Jean grinned. "Think of it: if you had known that it would happen, would you have agreed to spend an evening with us?"
Sebastian turned pale.
"…It's not true," he said uncertainly. "It didn't happen."
"Shall we give it an ol' test try?" Jean said and began pacing the room. "Your wife's name?"
Sebastian scoffed again and smirked.
"Eleanora Michaelis."
"Maiden name?"
"Black."
"Occupation?"
"Maid to the Earl of Phantomhive."
"Eye color?"
Sebastian, still smirking, opened up his mouth to answer, then paused. He actually had to think about it for a moment before replying.
"G-Green?"
"EGH! Wrong!" Jean said, giggling sadistically.
"'Wr-wrong?'" Sebastian looked stricken. "Then…is it…brown?"
"Wrong! Hair color?"
This time he looked determined.
"…Blonde."
Nobody answered him; he started to look concerned.
"Then…brown?"
Jean started giggling again.
"Red? Silver? The young Master's strange weirdness?"
"Hey!" Ciel said, but Jean just laughed and slapped Sebastian's shoulder, who pressed his hands against his head.
"What's wrong? Why can't I remember her?"
"This is the purification ceremony, cupcake!" Jean said. "We all had to go through with it, didn't we, gents?"
This was translated to the ones who didn't know English, and everybody nodded.
"Until your wedding day, you're not allowed to look at her, talk to her, touch her, or anything," Jean said. "Now, who's up for a bath?"
"But this is ridiculous! I can't even remember her voice!"
"Poor sweetie baby cakes," Jean said, "but I probably would have more sympathy if I hadn't had to do it myself. Welcome to manhood! Did anyone bring the bubble bath?"
One of Sebastian's uncles explained what was going on to Ciel as the men bathed Sebastian. He had never seen such a thorough cleaning—they even washed each individual eyelash. Ciel was glad that he was a human. Being an unholy looked really complicated. Too many rules and all.