One Hell Of An Earl

6 •Knotted Ties

Ciel Phantomhive

"What do you plan to do now?"

"Nothing."

•••

The sound of a single finger tapping was the only noise that could be heard in the office of the young Phantomhive residence.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

He'd sent all but one of his servants away, hiding his true intent as if he just wanted them to have a mere vacation.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The boys brows were knitted deeply together as he stared at the double doors with such an intense gaze. His eye patch was nowhere to be seen, and his eyes seemed to gleam, as if he were waiting for something.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he suddenly seemed to stop thinking.

Tap.

"Sebastian."

He could see the demon bow in his peripheral, his hand over his heart and the boy ignored how the butler's lashes couldn't hide the way his intense gaze snapped over to the little Lord briefly.

The Earl leaned back in his seat, his expression apprehensive for once as a gloved hand pulled at his bottom lip.

Was the young Earl perhaps nervous?

The study was dark.
Even though it was half past noon, he had the curtains draped, blocking any hint of the setting sun from lightening up the room.

He could make out the sight of his intricate bookshelves to his left, lining up on the wall before it turned sharply to where the double doors were.

"Why haven't they come yet?"

He was baffled.

Of course he fed the guards and policemen lies when they bombarded his manor with demands and questions on the queen's death, and how he and his two companions had left bloody, with the young Lord doning a slitted neck as if one were trying to defend themselves from him.

It'd been around three weeks since that day.

"The Queen invited me over for a game of cards," he spoken as he sat in his dining room. There'd been nearly a dozen reporters and two policemen who watched him quite intensely, just in case he'd slip up.

They'd arrived no more than a few hours later after the murder, and was quite relentless with their insults and aggressive questions regarding the murder of their beloved queen.

"We were all enjoying the game, me, Lizzy, the Queen." He let out a soft chuckle as he sipped the hot tea in his cup gingerly, allowing the flavor to wash over his taste buds.

Green tea?

He fought a glare off of his face as he turned his attention back to the eager reporters.

One of the policemen was an unfamiliar face, and he kept his eyes on the young lad.

He was tall, a shaggy blonde and more on the lean side. Sky blue eyes and delicate freckles sprinkled across his face.