X: His Butler | | Vanished

                                    

                                          







I've been . . . compromised, Ezzelin thought, his heart thundering loudly within his ears.
                          
Attempting to retain a calm, unaffected demeanor on his exterior, he merely shifted his gaze away from his guests and picked up his fork from his plate and slid its dull edge through his strawberry sponge cake with pecan pieces mixed into it.
                          
"My butler molds the most magnificent sweets, Lady Marie," he said, savoring the dessert within his mouth before swallowing it, "it would be considered an insult if my guests were to not enjoy it as such."
                          
The fiery-haired woman leaned forward and examined the multiple samples of desserts upon her intricate china plate. "Oooh," she cooed, dragging the tip of her index finger through the molten, hazelnut frosting atop her dark chocolate cake. Smiling, she nodded her head vigorously. "I see you do wish only the best for those around you, Monsieur Mondadori."
                          
"My Master has always wished only the utmost greatest for those he chooses to surround himself with," said Jasper as he appeared at Ezzelin's side, clad in an extravagant white tail-coated suit.
                          
The tawny-haired lad's grateful gaze fluctuated over to his butler. "Jasper," he said, sounding orderly, "once everyone has finished I expect them to be escorted properly to their temporary quarters as I hope Antony was."
                          
Placing his right, red-gloved hand over his left breast, the silver-haired man bowed and smirked. "As they shall be, my lord."
                          
Wrapping his hand around the wine glass filled with cool water, Ezzelin sipped from it and closed his eyes. "Good," he muttered, sharing a quick glance at the empty seat where Antony had been, his deep brown eyes narrowing, "so long as everyone enjoys their night . . . so shall I."
                          
〜〜〜＊〜〜〜
                          
An hour had passed since the banquet and the moon had risen to its highest point in the navy sky. Worried by the thoughts of earlier, Ezzelin had requested that Jasper and he make a couple of rounds of the mansion to make sure that all guests were within their quarters and resting. The two, master and butler, quietly roamed down the long corridors. The only light that guided them emitted from Jasper's forked candle holder, each filled with a lit wax candle.
                          
"Young master," said Jasper in a hushed tone, causing the lad to glance over his shoulder and stare at the handsome butler, his eyebrow arched in a questionable manner.
                          
"Hmm?"
                          
The butler examined the young boy with scrutinizing crimson eyes before sighing and smiling as though nothing were wrong with Ezzelin's appearance. "Should you not be resting at the same hour as your guests?"
                          
Sneering, he shook his head and examined the empty, beige walls with his tired eyes. "I have no need for sleep," he retorted, only for his mind to order the exact opposite with the abrupt intrusion of an extended yawn.
                          
"Young master, you mustn't ignore such urges; a well-rested lord is a tactful man."
                          
"I'm always . . . mindful of . . . my actions . . . and . . . those who tre-treat me with . . . such disdain . . ." the boy suddenly trailed off as knees unwillingly buckled beneath him, causing him to topple towards the floor in a graceless manner. Swift to keep his master from striking the ground, Jasper wrapped his arm around Ezzelin's stomach and sat down with him.
                          
Brushing back the teenager's brown locks, Jasper smirked and shook his head. "Stubborn as always," he muttered, grabbing the candle holder in mid-air before it could crash against the imported carpeted flooring. "What am I ever to do with such adamancy, my lord?" Climbing to his feet, Jasper knelt down and collected the boy into his arms, blew out the candles, then carried his master through the never-ending darkness.
                          
"A contract unable to be severed until your wish has been fulfilled?" Jasper said, his malicious voice echoing forebodingly down the corridor. "I suppose such a thing is not deemed so wretched," he paused as he arrived in front of the largest bedroom within the mansion, "considering the compensation awaiting my lips at the end of our journey." Jasper easily managed to turn the brass knob to the white-painted door and enter the room. Once inside, he tucked Ezzelin delicately within the queen-sized bed sheeted in pure silk and a thick, woven comforter atop them.
                          
"Until tomorrow, my lord." He watched as the boy tossed over onto his side and let out a slight snore. Chuckling to himself, Jasper strode back to the door, and left the room, silently closing the door behind him as he'd done so. Standing outside of the room, the man dusted both of his red glove clad hands together and sighed. "I truly must do something about this dreary estate." He shook his head and went straight to work with cleaning any remaining cobwebs and dust from the furniture adorning the halls.
                          
〜〜〜＊〜〜〜
                          
As the sun arose, its blinding rays seeped through the white-laced curtains, their brilliance shining upon Ezzelin's face---inevitably causing the boy to crack open his eyelids and glare at the light with his mahogany eyes. "Cover the curtains, Jasper," he mumbled as he tossed over and onto his right side, turning his face away from the windows and to the navy-floral walls, his head now covered with his black sheets. 
                          
There was a sudden, frantic knock at Ezzelin's door. "Monsieur Mondadori!" demanded a familiar, French voice from behind it. "Monsieur Mondadori!" the woman shouted, causing the boy to grumble in annoyance as he flung the covers off of himself and slid off of the bed. 
                          
"What do you want at such an ungodly hour, Lady Marie?!" His hand froze mid-distance away from the knob as he looked down at himself and panicked---he was still clad within his grey satin pajamas. "One moment, Lady Mari---"
                          
"You don't have a moment, Monsieur Mondadori," she explained, "Ils exigent que vous venez maintenant! Il est urgent et votre majordome est parti!" 
                          
"Speak in English, Lady Marie!" he shouted back as he opened the door and stared up at her panicked expression. "Now what did you say?" 
                          
The fiery-haired woman hesitated as she examined his attire. Taking a deep breath, she massaged her red eyebrows. "They want you to come to the door now, no matter what you look like, Monsieur." She paused for a second as she looked up-and-down the corridor. "Are you not aware that your butler is no where to be found this morning?"
                          
Ezzelin's eyes widened in both anger and disbelief at the woman. "W-What do you mean?" he asked, his tone oddly fearful. 
                          
"It's as if he . . . left," she said, her eyebrows furrowed in remorse as she watched the boy shove past her and walk in a fast pace towards the main hall of his mansion. 
                          
That sly, foul serpent, he thought, his hands clenching into tighter fists and jaw set in a firm manner. He is not abiding by our agreement, he scowled and shook his head, it shall be a cold day in hell before he dare even taste of my sou---
                          
Ezzelin's eyes wavered in horror as he opened the main door. Greeting him with a narrowed electric blue eye was a boy Ezzelin had met less than a couple of weeks ago: Ciel Phantomhive.