The Hunt for Jack the Ripper (The Phantomhive Diaries #1)

48. Sebastian Michaelis

1888

In the dim light of dawn, Sebastian busied himself in the kitchen, crafting a modest breakfast for the young master at the behest of Madam Red. Yet, as he stirred the porridge, a heavy pall of uncertainty hung over him, for the young master remained ensnared in a tempest of anguish and fury, tormented by the grievous error he had committed. This blunder, however, was not solely the young master's burden; it weighed heavily upon Sebastian's own conscience, for he too had failed to discern the truth—that Jan and the enigmatic Mey-Rin were, in fact, the same person. A flicker of suspicion had danced in his mind upon their initial encounter at the Vanel Estate, a whisper of something amiss that he ignored. Yet, never had it dawned upon him she was entwined in the sinister web of a missing person's enigma. Such a blunder was beneath him, a novice's folly that left even the ever-composed Sebastian feeling a twinge of shame.

Honestly, what kind of butler am I?

Sebastian understood that in order to fix this dreadful error, he and the young master would have to find that girl.

But first, he must complete the young master's morning routine.

Breakfast.

Waking the boy from his slumber became an endeavor of almost impossible proportions for Sebastian, as Ciel clung to the sanctuary under the duvet and refused to come out. The young master, in a fit of defiance, threatened to discharge his firearm at Sebastian's face should he dare to disturb him any further. Were it not for the ominous presence of the weapon concealed beneath the pillow, Sebastian might have dismissed the threat as a mere bravado. Though indifferent to the idea of pain, the demon found himself unwilling to tarnish his elegant tailcoat with blood. Again.

Therefore, Sebastian left the young master alone and prepare his morning, hoping that a hearty breakfast would improve his bitter mood.

Under the meticulous instructions of Madam Red, Sebastian crafted a breakfast of delicate simplicity, mindful of the young master's fragile constitution. He made a humble rice porridge, its sweetness enhanced by the golden caress of honey, and adorned with plump blackberries, their deep hue a testament to the autumnal harvest. Yet, perceiving the young master's disquietude over the recent predicament, Sebastian resolved to indulge him further with a steaming cup of spiced hot chocolate, infused with the warmth of cinnamon and a daring hint of chili powder. It was a concoction meant to soothe the soul, though Sebastian had a nagging feeling that the young master might find his breakfast lacking.

Just as he was finished preparing the tray to be taken upstairs through the dumbwaiter, Baldroy entered the kitchen.

Baldroy was tasked with the solemn duty of preparing both the young master's breakfast and lunch, well before the sun rose. In the customary rhythm of the household, the servants would partake their meals at an earlier hour, a ritual that set the stage for their labors. It was well known that Sebastian had no need for such earthly sustenance; yet, he possessed an understanding of the significance it held for those like Baldroy and Tanaka. Thus, he had placed his trust in Baldroy, believing him to have already satisfied his hunger. Yet, here stood Sebastian, poised to craft the young master's morning meal, while Baldroy seemed to be engaged in some other activity Sebastian remained unaware of.

"Hey, Sebastian," he said, "How is the young master?"

Sebastian let out a heavy sigh, but decided not to express his annoyance with the cook. It would be a waste of breath. "He's recovering quite well."

"Oh, well," Baldroy stuttered as he scratched the back of his head. "That's good. I hope he's all right."

"Baldroy," Sebastian said, "I know you're not the best chef in the mansion, but I at least expected for you to cut the meat."

"Oh yeah, sorry about that," Baldroy apologized. "I was just finished giving Tanaka his tea and then there was someone at the front door."

Sebastian couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Did Niall finally arrive with the newspaper on time?"

"Um, not exactly... We have a visitor."

At this moment, Sebastian turned around instantaneously to look at Baldroy sharply. "...Visitor? What visitor? The young master is not expecting any visitors. Especially at such early hours in the morning. And I thought I made it clear not to let anyone in the manor without asking me first."

"Well..." Baldroy drawled awkwardly.

"Hello." Sebastian's eyes widened.

Behind Baldroy loomed a figure clad in a butler's garb, his round golden-framed spectacle glinting ominously in the dim light. His long, chestnut locks were gathered into a ponytail with a red ribbon, lending him an air of peculiar elegance. Even before he stepped forth from the shadows, Sebastian recognized the unmistakable timbre of that voice - soft, almost effeminate. It was none other than Madam Red's enigmatic servant, Grell Sutcliffe.

"Grell?" Sebastian frowned in confusion. "Well, this is a surprise. I was not informed you were coming."

Baldroy's eyes widened as well. "Grell? Madam Red's butler?"

The timid butler nodded, his fingers trembling as they adjusted the spectacles perched precariously upon his nose. "Yes, that would be me. I do apologize for my unexpected arrival."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "It truly is. What brings you here so early?"

"The madame thought it would be best if she sent me here to make sure her nephew is being looked after properly."

Sebastian sighed and folded his arms. "I suppose she doesn't trust me anymore."

"She's still angry?" Baldroy asked.

"Oh, no, no," Grell said. "Well...maybe a little. But it's nothing personal. She simply worries for him." He then sighed. "Listen, I do trust you both. You did everything that was asked by your master. It's Madam Red. She just wants to ensure the boy's safety."

Sebastian nodded. "I understand. However, it really is rude of Madam Red's part to send you here without notifying me or the young master."

"I did ask her to call ahead. But she refused. She knew Lord Phantomhive would say no, and she's still quite displeased with you."

A heavy sigh escaped Sebastian's lips. In this wretched hour, he yearned for the familiar presence of Niall Talmhach. His arrival would have been a welcome reprieve from Grell's unwelcoming intrusion. True, Niall's habitual tardiness in delivering the young master's newspaper irked him, yet the boy's company was far more tolerable than the current nuisance. He would prefer to endure the searing flames of Baldroy's flamethrower than suffer the prying eyes of Madam Red's butler, especially over an unforeseen calamity that befell them. In Madam Red's relentless pursuit of thrusting Grell upon them without warning, Sebastian was left with no other choice but to accept this bumbling servant into their home. He could only hope that Madam Red soon finished with her shift by nightfall. Or until she decided that the young master was no longer in danger.

"Well, it can't be helped." Grabbing the tailcoat that hung over one of the kitchen chairs, he slipped it on and put on a pair of clean gloves. "If that's what your madam wants, I shall humbly obey in order to regain her trust. I shall inform my young master immediately. Why don't you help Baldroy prepare the master's morning tea while I'm gone?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Grell said with an awkward smile.

After sending the young master's breakfast up to the dumbwaiter, Sebastian headed upstairs.

The young master was going to be very displeased by this.