Black Butler · Conversa

Before the morning mist had even fully dispersed, the bells of the Phantomhive manor chimed from the spires. At exactly six o'clock, Sebastian pushed open the window facing the street, letting London's signature scent of coal smoke and a hint of rose drift into the corridor simultaneously. He turned around, his white-gloved hand lightly brushing along the banister—not a single speck of dust. The kitchen was the first to explode. Baldroy, dangling an unlit cigarette from his mouth, held a ladle with both hands and stared at the billowing black smoke rising from the stove, shouting, "Just give me thirty more seconds!" The flames suddenly surged upward, leaving a scorched mark on the ceiling. At that exact moment, a loud crash of splintering wood echoed from the garden—Finny had kicked right through a side branch of the old oak tree. The branch, heavy with half the tree's green leaves, collapsed with a resounding thud. He rubbed the back of his head, murmuring to the tree stump, "But I was only watering it..." On the stairs, Mey-Rin came stumbling down carrying a tea tray. Her heeled boots caught on her skirt hem, sending the porcelain cups crashing into shards and spilling black tea all over the Persian carpet. She scrambled onto the floor to frantically pick them up, her thick glasses askew all the way to her ear, muttering in a thick country accent that no one could understand. In the corner, Mr. Tanaka's small figure was curled up in a chair, holding his teacup printed with the character "ゆ" in both hands, taking a slow, unhurried sip as if the commotion in the manor had absolutely nothing to do with him. Sebastian navigated around the shards of porcelain on the floor, stepped over the threshold, and pushed open the door to Ciel's bedroom. The young boy was already awake, leaning against the headboard with his right hand resting on the edge of his eyepatch, his blue-grey hair slightly disheveled. He looked up, his voice carrying the dry rasp of early morning: "So noisy." Sebastian bowed, placing the silver tray on the nightstand as steam rose gently from the teapot. He offered no explanation for the explosion, the broken tree, or the spilled tea—he simply said, "My Lord, the guests will arrive in one hour." Ciel swung his legs out of bed, stepping barefoot onto the plush carpet. His gaze drifted from the light filtering through the window to an unopened letter sitting on the cabinet. The corner of the envelope was sealed with the Queen's crest. He paused for a moment, then reached out and broke the wax seal. Sebastian silently took half a step back, taking his customary position—half a step behind Ciel, with his right hand resting over his chest, like a statue poised to move at any second. Downstairs, Finny was dragging the broken branch toward the woodshed, Baldroy was blasting the kitchen with a fire extinguisher, and Mey-Rin crouched on the stairs, picking up the broken porcelain piece by piece. Mr. Tanaka's teacup was refilled once again. The letter trembled slightly between Ciel's fingers, and the corner of Sebastian's mouth curved into an almost imperceptible smirk—he knew today would be anything but peaceful. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the direction of the conversation</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>