A Demons Mate

chapter 3

A Demon's Mate

Bardroy, better known as Bard although he never could get that uppity butler to understand that, enjoyed the delicious nicotine flooding his system as he stood in the winter sunlight. Sebastian would absolutely not let him smoke in the house, even the servant's rooms. Seeing the young master's reaction to a small cold last year, he could understand the ruling now.

That was a tense few days. The young master's lungs were weak and he was sensitive to anything in the air, and any illness always settled in his lungs. For those five days, the servants had all ended up camped out in the hallway outside the Earl's door. Just in case they were needed.

His breath puffed in a scoff. They were never needed. Of course not. Sebastian sailed easily through caring for their young master as he did everything else around the place. The damned butler hadn't ever had a stitch out of place, although he must have slept standing up the whole time. He had been completely unruffled, looking down on the rest of them yet again.

It was like he wasn't human.

The thought struck a cord. If Bard hadn't seen Sebastian bleed from an injury when the manor was attacked some time ago, he would believe the man was a machine. Maybe one of the automata that the nobles seemed to like so much.

He just thought they were creepy.

Thankfully, the young master seemed to agree with him. A gift from another noble, looking to get in on the Funtom Company, had been an automaton of a young woman that sat under a tree reading while a bird sang in the branches behind her. Every once in a while she would look up at the bird and smile before turning the page of her book. The Earl had accepted the gift graciously of course, but it had disappeared shortly after.

If he remembered from when he first came to the manor right, it resembled the portrait of the previous countess. The portrait had also disappeared, eventually. Not that he could fault the Earl. His parents had been murdered in his home. As a child, although he never really seemed like a child, the young master had left up the pictures of his parents. As he grew, the painful reminders went away.

How long had he been here? The young master had only been eleven when Sebastian had pulled Bard out of a foxhole surrounded by the rest of his dead squad. The stupid general wouldn't listen that it had been a trap, too trumped up by his own importance to see the death hanging over all of them. He still didn't know why he survived. Sometimes, he wondered if he was even happy that he had.

But had he not, he wouldn't be here. Bard looked at the great house. He was more at home here, surrounded by the others, than he had been on his family's farm or even amongst his fellow soldiers. Even so, he still wasn't sure of his function.

Look at them all right now. The young master had been called to London a few days ago for some kind of audience with the queen. Many may look at the higher orders with envy but Bard sure never felt that way about the Earl. The boy was working himself into an early grave and had been the entire six years that Bard had known Lord Ciel Phantomhive.

At least there wouldn't be anymore 'interviews' until they returned. He could use a break from Mei-Rin's complaining. And she did, every time a new woman appeared at the servant's door to be seen. At first, they thought the young master was hiring more staff since his fiancée appeared to be wanting to spend more time at the manor. Maybe he was even thinking about entertaining? But, no. It was Sebastian...interviewing for a wife.

Interviewing a wife. What was that butler thinking? Maybe it was fitting for the cold being that was Lord Phantomhive's shadow, but Bard still didn't think it was right. It shouldn't be such an icy process. Right?