If Things Should Stay the Same

Chapter 5: Effort

The brown liquid steadily poured from the white spout in a controlled stream. Wisps of steam steadily rose while the fluid hit the porcelain bottom, splashing against the immaculate white inner sides of the teacup. In mere seconds, the substance quickly amassed in volume and quantity until it was threatening to overflow from the rim. Only surface tension was keeping it contained within the walls of the chinaware, preventing it from dripping onto the saucer underneath.

"Stop, Sev. That's enough," Joshua yelled out in alarm, prompted by his intuition and what he was seeing with his experienced eyes.

"What?" Sev absentmindedly turned to face Joshua, inadvertently ignoring the fact that he was still holding onto the teapot. In less than a millisecond, the hot tea spilled forth from the cup, filling up the saucer, and then started pooling on the table until it was lapped up by the fabric of Sev's trousers which was just barely touching the edge of the furniture.

A loud crash resonated throughout the room as Sev dropped the teapot, crying out in pain at the scalding sensation that ran down his leg. Breaking apart into countless irregularly-shaped pieces, the plain white teapot had fortunately been one of the many spare china sets donated in the training hall for aspiring butlers and maids undergoing training in serving tea.

"Serving tea is not just pouring tea until the cup is filled to the brim, Mr. Langdon-Smith. However, I would call it a day for now. Let us try again by next daylight," said the middle-aged man with several strands of gray hair amidst his brown locks. With a disapproving shake of his head and an accompanying sigh, he silently stood up from his seat and left the room.

"I apologize on behalf of my Dad. It's been an odd day at most for him." Joshua went over to give a reassuring pat on Sev's back as well as a piece of cloth to wipe the spill. He could tell his friend was more demoralized by the failure to accomplish such an easy task than hurt from the scalding injury on his thigh.

"You don't have to hide the fact Sir Bartholomew hates me, Josh," Sev said sulkily, making large circles sluggishly with the rag as he cleaned up the puddle of tea on both the table and the floor. "It shows by the way he rolls his eyes and snorts whenever I mess something up."

It had been a long arduous lesson since daybreak. Joshua and his father Bartholomew had been pulled out from their usual duties again in order to prepare Sev for his work as Alex's personal butler – or rather, Joshua's replacement.

Today was primarily focused on the subject of tea. Joshua could tell his father's patience had been worn thin mostly due to Sev being mostly clueless with the topic at hand. Moreover, when it came to the practical return-demonstration part, his father was just downright displeased with Sev's occasional periods of poor concentration and coordination while performing the task laid out for him.

Still, with each reprimanding sermon and the accompanying sharp slap on the back of his hand with a wooden ruler, Sev was trying his best to keep up with the learning despite it seeming like he was taking it as a joke. His mind was playing up again and, while he knew he was probably due, he could not take anything yet as the lesson had not officially concluded. At least, not until either Bartholomew or Joshua said so and left him by himself.

"I know you got the process of preparing tea right... after much trial and error. Serving it is just the next associated task you do with the tea you prepare. I'll give you a hint: You need to make a rough estimate of until when you have to stop pouring into the teacup." Joshua strode over to the countertop and grabbed one of the three teapots they had already filled with some hot tea for Sev's practice.

Sev carefully eyed Joshua's actions as the latter carefully brought the teapot with an oriental floral motif over to the table. To Sev, Joshua looked like he was merely transporting a balloon in his hands. His wrists barely trembled at the weight of the teapot and its contents. Even the expression on his face was calm and composed as if he was doing absolutely nothing that required skill and concentration.