Black Butler: The Lich's Compass

Chapter 5

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air as Sebastian approached the bed with measured grace. The rattle of china and silverware broke the silence of the room, waking Marisol from a deep sleep.

"Good morning," the demon butler greeted, his lips curled into a practiced smile. "I went ahead and picked up this morning's paper for you."

The lich then realized the wrinkle on his white glove, but didn't say anything as she sat up.

"What blend is it?"

Sebastian paused, gloved hand poised to pour the steaming liquid into a delicate porcelain cup.

"It's the Brazilian Santos blend, Capitana. I thought the rich, nutty notes would be to your liking this morning," he replied smoothly, dark eyes flicking up to gauge Marisol's reaction.

The demon butler continued his ministrations, creamy fingers deftly arranging biscuits and preserves on a silver tray beside the coffee pot.

"Will there be anything else you require before I take my leave to see to the day's duties?"

"You seemed... Lost..." She mentioned as she took a biscuit, "Is there something bothering you? It seems the weight of the past is swallowing you whole."

The demon butler stilled, his gloved fingers pausing in the act of replacing the coffee pot. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he fought to maintain his perfect composure.

"You are ...as perceptive as ever, Miss Colón," he murmured finally, not quite meeting Marisol's gaze. "But I assure you, there is nothing amiss. Merely the weight of servitude bearing down upon me."

Sebastian squared his shoulders, straightening to his full imposing height. In a flash, he resumed his butler persona - a mask of cool professionalism settling over his features like a well-tailored suit.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," he intoned in that honeyed voice, "I must see to the day's duties. Is there anything else you require before I take my leave?"

She can see something is bothering him— Almost... Suffocating him if it's ever possible. But she doesn't push him to tell her. "That would be all... For now."

"Very good, Capitana," Sebastian murmured, bowing curtly.

As he turned to leave, the demon butler hesitated, hand resting on the doorknob. Something in Marisol's quiet understanding gave him pause. Against his better judgment, he found himself glancing back over his shoulder.

"Perhaps...perhaps we might speak later," he said, voice low. "When I am not impeded by my duties."

It was a tiny crack in his carefully constructed veneer, a silent plea for understanding from the one person who seemed to truly see him. Then the moment passed, and Sebastian was once more the perfect butler, impeccably poised and remote.

"Until then, I shall leave you to your breakfast and morning preparations," he intoned, slipping out of the room with preternatural grace.

Meanwhile in the thick fog of the docks...

As dusk settles over the Thames, a thick, unnatural fog rolls into the docks, shrouding the waters in an eerie mist. The air grows heavy, cold, and damp, sending chills through the few sailors still working at the ports. The sounds of waves lapping against the moorings seem to fade into an unnatural stillness.

Out of the fog, a dark shape emerges—The Hellish Tide, Elenora's infamous pirate ship. Its massive black sails flutter silently, and its hull, stained with the remnants of past battles, glides ominously toward the pier. There's no sound of creaking wood or the usual noise of a ship coming into harbor. The ship seems almost... ghostly.