Nightshade Valet And His Nobel Mistress

Chapter 12: End

"Now then," the Undertaker cackled softly, opening his book with a flourish. "Let's see what other fascinating tidbits I can find about demon-human offspring while we wait, shall we?"

Ciel sighed, settling into a chair on the opposite side of Madeline's bed. "I suppose there's nothing else to do but wait," he muttered.

As the hours ticked by, Madeline drifted in and out of consciousness. When awake, she was often delirious, muttering Sebastian's name and crying out in pain as the child within her continued to grow, albeit at a slower pace.

The Undertaker kept a close eye on her, occasionally placing a cool, bony hand on her forehead or checking the swell of her abdomen. His usual grin never faltered, but there was a glint of concern in his hidden eyes.

Ciel paced anxiously by the window, glancing out every few minutes as if expecting to see Sebastian returning. The sky had darkened to a deep indigo, stars twinkling faintly through wisps of cloud.

"How much longer?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

The Undertaker chuckled softly. "Patience, young earl. Gathering such rare items is no simple task, even for a demon of Sebastian's caliber."

As if on cue, a gust of wind rattled the windowpane, and Sebastian materialized in the center of the room. His usually immaculate appearance was disheveled, his coat torn in places and his hair windswept. In his arms, he cradled a collection of strange objects.

"I have returned," he announced, his voice tight with exhaustion.

"Sebastian!" Ciel exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. "Did you manage to find everything?"

Sebastian nodded, carefully laying out the items on a nearby table. There was a delicate white flower that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light, a vicious-looking fang, a small pouch of glittering ash, and a lock of jet-black hair.

The Undertaker cackled with delight, clapping his hands together. "Excellent work, butler! Now we can begin the real fun."

Sebastian ignored him, moving swiftly to Madeline's bedside. He took her hand gently, his crimson eyes filled with concern. "How is she?"

"She's been in and out," Ciel replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "The fever's stayed down, but she's still in pain."

As if sensing Sebastian's presence, Madeline's eyes fluttered open. "Sebastian?" she whispered, her voice weak but filled with relief.

"I'm here, my love," Sebastian murmured, squeezing her hand gently. "I've brought what we need. You're going to be alright."

The Undertaker clapped his hands together, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet room. "Well then, let's not waste any more time! We have a half-demon child to bring into the world."

He began to bustle around the room, mixing the ingredients Sebastian had gathered in a small, ornate bowl. The moonflower petals dissolved into a silvery liquid, which hissed and steamed when the phoenix ash was added. The hellhound fang was ground to a fine powder, turning the mixture a deep, blood red.

Finally, the Undertaker held up the lock of Sebastian's hair. "And now for the final ingredient," he said with a dramatic flourish. He dropped the hair into the mixture, which immediately began to glow with an otherworldly light.

"What now?" Ciel asked, his voice tense with anticipation.

The Undertaker's grin widened. "Now, we administer the potion. But I must warn you, it won't be pleasant."

Sebastian's grip on Madeline's hand tightened. "What do you mean?"

"The potion will force the child to be born," the Undertaker explained. "It will accelerate the remaining stages of pregnancy in a matter of minutes. The pain will be... intense."