His Butler, Faithful

His Butler, Entranced

Not that he cared, but Sebastian began to notice a subtle change in April. Because of his acute awareness, he was the only one to notice. She was more alert, a little jumpy, and their midnight talks became less frequent.

He assumed it was because of the visit with the Undertaker those three days ago. The man was enough to scare anyone, but he never took April to be the type to be frightened that easily.

On this particular night, Sebastian sat in the library, smiling at Amber, who mewed from outside the window. A door clicked shut somewhere behind him, and light footsteps headed in his direction. “I didn’t think you would come tonight,” he said. “You’ve seemed a tad on edge lately.”

April sat next to him on the love seat, refusing to look at him but rather the fire. “You noticed?” she inquired.

“Indeed,” he replied, “though I am the only one. Young master still enjoys your company. Despite your usual expression, I’d say you’re rather motherly, and that is what he notices about you.”

She closed her eyes, her lashes casting long shadows across her cheeks. “I am but his maid,” she said softly.

“And I am but his butler,” he agreed. “But you’ve still managed to become a valuable member of this household, and in such a short time.”

“Even you think so, Sebastian?” she said, looking at him.

He hesitated for a moment. “Yes,” he managed. “Even I think so.”

“Then may I ask a favor of you?”

At this, he was a little taken aback. “You need something from me?”

She nodded. “Ciel wants me to attend the ball with you two, but they entail dancing, and I-”

“Don’t know how to dance?” he finished for her, smirking. “How adorable. Yet understandable. Very well, I shall teach you. You must do me a favor though.”

“Yes?”

“Take off your glasses.”

April smiled and slipped off her glasses. “There.”

“You have a lovely smile, Miss Phillips,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand to her. “You should do that more often.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking it.

“Now, place your hand on my shoulder,” he said, curling his fingers around her waist.

“Right.” She did as he said and then took his outstretched hand.

“Back straight,” he ordered, “and, being the lady, you follow my lead.”

“Right,” she repeated, stepping back as he stepped forward.

“And… One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three…” They followed this pattern for over an hour (with April tripping on her skirts and stepping on his feet), until they reached a rhythm. Their swaying motion put April into a sort of trance, sparking Sebastian’s curiosity as to what she could be thinking about. He felt himself being pulled into a trance as well, the more he looked into her eyes. He could feel the pull of her soul, yet also its resilience. He was not the first devil she met, he realized.

He wished there was more music other than the scraping of their shoes against the floor, but at the same time liked the intimacy of their dance. Even a small quartet would seem crowded, despite the vast size of the library. “You are my favorite dance partner,” he whispered, bending to her ear, as if this were a dark secret. And, in a way, it was.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You seem very gratuitous,” he noted.

“I have much reason to be.”

“Oh?”

“Wallace Bullfinch was a kind man, but a fan of the drink,” she said slowly. “And he was a mean drunk. He had a lot of pent-up anger he needed to let go of, and I happened to be the perfect target.”

Sebastian frowned, but more at his growing pity for the girl.

“His grandson was horrid,” she continued. “During the days he visited, I had to act as his maid. They were mere peasants, but I was lower than they, so with me as his servant, little Fredrick liked to act like a cruel king.”

“I could only imagine what that entailed.”

“Hmm.”

Sebastian twirled her, but she fumbled with his hand at the return. “What are you thinking about now?” he asked. “You had no trouble with the returns before.”

April’s eyes looked like they were in a dream state. “My mother was a whore,” she stated bluntly. “My father was a veteran of the war who spent his years after its end drinking and whoring. I think you can gather from that information how I came to be.”

Her face cracked into a wide smile and she began laughing. Sebastian widened his eyes, having never heard her laugh before, and found himself smiling with her. He dared not laugh as well, for hers was musical and lovely. But it was sad, for she was laughing at the tragedy of her  own life, and now Sebastian understood why her soul was so worthy. It was a soul meant for greater things than the human will, and although it didn’t seem she would talk any more that night, he knew right away there was much, much more to her than what she ever let on.