His Butler, Salty or Sweet?
His Butler, Fortuitous Encounter (Pt 1)
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Chapter 4: His Butler, Fortuitous Encounter (Pt 1)
The evening sky had turned dark, much like the young Earl’s mood. Low-hanging clouds had rolled in, and threatened rain. Instead of playing his usual after-dinner solo game of chess, Ciel shut himself in the parlor and decided to help himself to the bottle of sherry that had always sat untouched on the credenza.
He set the cork beside the crystal decanter and poured himself a generous glass. He quickly swallowed a mouthful of the dark liquid. The taste was dry and burned his throat on the way down. Coughing to catch his breath, he decided it wasn’t so bad. If this is what was required to clear his head, then he was determined to drink the whole bottle.
Glass in one hand, bottle in the other, the boy walked over to his lounge chair and sank down into the soft fabric.
“Elizabeth... Elizabeth…” Ciel repeated her name. Maybe if he said it enough times, he could convince himself to be excited about seeing her. He stared at the marble pieces on the chessboard before him.
Which one was he, really? A king? A pawn? Moreover, which one was Sebastian?
‘Is it all just a game to him?’ the young Earl deliberated. Perhaps to the demon, he was nothing more than a rat skittering through a maze of his own fashioning. Indeed, his path was lost long ago when his parents were taken. The ship of fools had already departed, and now there was little he could do but hope that this contract with the demon would bestow upon him the justice he so craved before the end. And then Sebastian would finally claim that which he coveted. The contract was nothing more than a means to an end for the demon, a mere symbiotic relationship of convenience and tolerance in the meantime. Ciel’s realization that he was, in every way, alone with nothing but a heart that was dark beyond midnight felt very much like despair. Despair, after all, is an affliction of the godless.
So many thoughts swirled about in the boy’s head that if he were to speak he was certain he wouldn’t hear himself. “Just let it go,” Ciel commanded himself, running a hand through his hair and loosening his collar. The sherry was doing its job and the warmth it brought was a welcomed sensation. Finny had once mentioned to him that this was the ‘good stuff’, and now the boy was beginning to understand why.
Ciel quickly finished his glass and poured another. The more he drank, the smoother the fluid became, and the more he managed to forget the world and stare blindly upon the crackling fire in the fireplace beside him. For the first time in weeks, he felt his body relax. He wanted to stay here forever, if he could.
The boy sat contently as the hands on the grandfather clock passed, and the bottle grew empty.
***
“Are you ready to retire for the evening, young master?” the butler asked from the entrance of the parlor. Ciel glanced up at the clock to see that it was quarter past midnight. He must have fallen asleep. When he gazed upon the fireplace, nothing more than smouldering embers remained.
“Ahh, yes Sebastian,” the boy slurred, trying his best to gain his composure as he stood up from the lounge chair. He set the crystal glass upon the table, but misjudging the table’s height he sent it flying against the table with a clatter. Oh well, thought the boy, if he had broken it, it would just be something else for Sebastian to clean up so it really didn’t matter. A snarky little chuckle almost managed to escape Ciel’s lips.
“My, my,” Sebastian looked on with dismay. “I believe the young Earl Phantomive has had quite enough to drink for one night.”
"Nonsense, Sebastian. I’m fine,” refuted the young Earl. “Take me to my bed chambers so I can retire,” he commanded.
“But of course, my lord,” Sebastian offered a hand to steady the boy as he staggered down the long hallway. This was normally the time that the butler asked Ciel what he’d like prepared for the next day. But instead tonight, the demon was silent as their shoes echoed against the marble floors.