That Butler, New Face

That Butler, Parleying 3

{Inside the Medical Tent...}

"—ne... Chêne," Sebastian whispered in his slumbering wife's ear, trying to wake her  without disturbing the sleeping children in the bed just a few feet  away. He sighed and shook his head when she showed no signs of stirring.  She could be such a heavy sleeper... Well, there was still one thing he  hadn't tried, a certain trick that never failed. It was time to use that. Sebastian took a breath and blew into Chêne's sensitive ear, startling her awake.

"!?"  She gasped in alarm, nearly jumping out of her skin and falling out of  the bed in the process. "Sebastian! What the he—" she began  incredulously, but he cut her off by cover her mouth with his hand. She  noticed he wasn't wearing one of his gloves and furrowed her brow  slightly in confusion. Sebastian never took his gloves off if he could help it.

"Forgive me. I had intended to let you sleep, but a certain... complication  has arisen," he whispered softly, giving her a somewhat apologetic  smile, though he was still quite obviously amused by her over the top  reaction to his chosen method for waking her. "I need you to go to the  city's heraldry office in my stead. I shall explain in more detail  elsewhere."

=†=†=†=†=

"So... what is it you want me to do  again?" Chêne asked, covering her mouth as she yawned, while they walked  back to their tent. Her brain wasn't completely awake yet, but if she  was going to be running around the streets of London at night by  herself, she knew she was going to need grab a few things first.

"I  want you to sneak out of camp and break into the College of Arms and  find out who that crest belongs to. If you can do that, then we shall be  one step closer to finding this 'Tom, the Piper's Son'," Sebastian  stated calmly as he lifted the tent flap and held it open for her.

"Oh. Is that all?" Chêne asked, smiling wryly as she sweat-dropped. "Why do I have to break in? Can't we just wait until tomorrow, when it's open?" she asked reasonably, wondering why he needed her to do it when he usually preferred to handle such tasks by himself.

"Because  the Young Master wishes to depart first thing tomorrow. Therefore, we  must gather as much information as possible tonight, while we still can.  He ordered me to look into the matter, but a certain reaper insists on  making an obstacle of himself, and he is refusing to allow me to go  anywhere without the Young Master," he explained patiently. "I could  always force my way through, but that would undoubtedly result in our  cover 'being blown', as you would say."

"... Okay, fine," Chêne  agreed reluctantly, sighing in defeat. She was feeling a little cranky  and didn't really fancy having to do a B&E in the middle of the  night, when it was freezing cold, after being so rudely awakened from a  nice dream about surfing in an ocean of chocolate, but it obviously had  to be done. The sooner the got the sick Ciel safely and soundly back to  his townhouse, where he could have a proper rest in a warm room with a  fire, the better. "Just give me a few minutes to wake up. I don't want  to end up tripping and falling on my face while climbing through the  window because I was still half asleep..."

=†=†=†=†=

{The College of Arms
130 Queen Victoria Street, London}

"I  can't believe I'm doing this..." Chêne mumbled to herself under her  breath as she carefully used the hooked orange peeler attachment on her  Swiss Army knife to pick the padlock on the back door. 'I'm breaking  into a library for coats of arms, without a lookout or a decent getaway  driver... If I'm gonna break the law, I at least want to do it right...  and kick a door in, 'cause that's always fun. If Lacey were here, she'd  definitely kick in a door or two...' She thought, smiling wryly at the  thought of her crazy friend, as she continued to tease the lock. Oh,  well. At least the place wasn't heavily guarded.

CLICK.

'Ah,  finally!' She thought, grinning triumphantly, when the heavy padlock  finally popped open. Works every time! You just have to be patient... and  lucky. Chêne quickly pocketed the lock and silently slipped inside the  building, careful not to let the door slam shut behind her, just in case  there was a watch-guard around to hear it. Chêne blinked and waited for  her eyes to adjust to the dark room, but there wasn't much to see. She  appeared to be in some kind of storage room, a very dusty one. While  carefully maneuvering through a few stacks of books someone had left  piled about here and there on the floor, Chêne crossed over to the door  on the other side of the room. She pressed her ear to the wood and  waited and listened to see if she could hear any sounds that might  indicate someone else might be moving around on the other side of the  door. There was nothing. Cautiously, she opened the door just enough to  poke her head out and check to make sure her ears weren't deceiving her.  The coast was clear. She was in the main part of the building's first  floor, now all she had to do was figure out where they kept the records  for knights and military personnel, since Sebastian said that's what the  horse on the signet ring meant, and the 'K' should be the initial of  the family name... Chêne sweat-dropped as she glanced around the large  room at all the books and records lining the walls. This... was going to  take awhile...

=†=†=†=†=

{Roughly three hours later...}

"A-ha!"  Chêne cheered victoriously when she finally found it. "Oops!" she said a  bit more quietly, instinctively covering her mouth upon realizing her  mistake. It's good thing there was no one around to hear her. Sebastian  and Ciel would never let her hear the end of it if she had gotten  herself caught because of it, but she couldn't help it. Breaking the  rules wasn't as much fun without an accomplice to share the excitement,  and she was starting to get sleepy again after sitting in a dark, quiet  room, with only the tiny LED embedded in her trusty Swiss Army knife for  a source of light, for so long... but that was over now. She had finally  managed to find the exact match for the enlarged sketch of the infamous  crest that her hubby had so thoughtfully drawn up for her before sending  her on her way. Now she just had to write down the name. 'This looks  like a job for Mr. Ballpoint Pen~!' Chêne thought happily as she clicked  out the knife's handy pen attachment and quickly jotted down the name  and title that was listed before putting the bound record back where she  found it and making a quick exit. She was feeling quite pleased with  herself as she replaced the padlock, when something happened that  completely shattered her false sense of security and confidence that she  was about to make a clean getaway...

"My, my... Naughty, naughty,  Miss maid! Running an errand for the Earl, are we?" A familiar,  scratchy voice remarked behind her. Chêne froze and slowly turned to  face the unwanted witness to her crime.

"G-Good evening, Undertaker... Come here often?" she asked a little nervously, smiling wryly as she sweat-dropped.

"Hee! Hee... I was on my way to pick up a new client... when I spotted you. You really should be more careful..."  he replied, grinning madly, as he leaned forward, invading her personal  space. Chêne sweat-dropped. Well, that certainly would explain why  there was a hearse parked just a little further down the alley...

"Is  that so...? I'll try to keep that in mind..." she said, cautiously inching  away in an attempt to put a more comfortable distance between them. She  flinched, surprised, when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist  to keep her from moving any further away.

"Wherever did you get that?" he asked gravely, frowning, as he pointed to the Devinette brooch that she had inherited from her grandmother on her birthday.

"I  inherited it. It's a family heirloom... Why, is something wrong with  that?" Chêne asked, furrowing her brow slightly in confusion. Why did he  suddenly look so troubled?

"You inherited it, you say...?"  Undertaker asked dubiously, deepening his frown. How long had she had  it? He couldn't remember having seen her wear it before, and he knew he  would never forget seeing that thing again. "... Come with me,  Miss Maid," Undertaker said solemnly as he released his vice-like grip  on Chêne's wrist and took her by the hand, leading her towards his  hearse, "and I shall tell you a fairy story from long ago..."