Extrication

-Chapter I-

It had been seven years since the Earl Phantomhive restored his honor and his manor house to its original state before the horrible events that befell his family and himself. Or to put it in terms that had been concealed in secrecy all these years; the Earl had sold his soul to the Devil for seven years for return of a faithful butler that would help him to deliver his retribution to those who had stripped him of his dignity and pride. Seven years had passed, and the terms of the contract between the said devil and himself was still unfulfilled. Sometimes the Earl wondered, during his idle times between lessons and teatime, which often allowed him freedom from his servants' relentless bustling for deep reflections, whether the Devil was trying at all. 'No doubt he is trying,' he told himself. 'Why else would he so faithfully stay by my side for all these years, (and put up with all those unreasonable orders that I so often gave as a child, too.)' At this thought, the earl blushed, as recollections of one's childhood often bring embarrassment upon its owner.

At the age of seventeen, Earl Ciel Phantomhive was a young man of calm composure and reserved countenance; though could be somewhat engaging among company, his sarcastic humor often prevented others from seeking conversations with him. People were either afraid of him or worshipped him because of his wealth and power. His character was universally decided to be cold and peculiar by most of his acquaintances, his lack of smiles only confirmed this to be true. Those who were sympathetic towards the Earl attributed his strange disposition to the death of his dear aunt, Madame Red, which happened only two years after that of his parents. Most people were shocked to know that the Earl had been always without guardianship after the death of his parents, for in such decisive years in a child's life, development in education and character must be carefully monitored. Some would say that the Earl was such an exceptionally clever child that guardianship was not entirely necessary; evidently, the Earl had been able to establish and manage his own company, and take care of the Queen's business in the underworld so well too as to earn so much regard from Her Majesty; all this, only at the age of twelve! His accomplishments were often praised by those who heard them, accompanied by an admiration of his fine tall person*, fair complexion, and his deep blue eye (sad as it was, there was only one of them visable) that does so much credit to this elegant picture of what a young man of noble blood ought to be. There was something about the earl's eyes, or eye, as one of them was always covered by the eye patch, the one that was not seemed to convey a hint of undiscernible sadness, or self-reproach perhaps; for it always threw those who knew of his misery into a sea of oblivion. Although the Earl preferred the solitude of his own library or study to the company of a hunting party and fox hounds (so unlike most young men of his age), this unique quality combined with his intelligence rather incited sympathy and admiration from those who equally admired his fine eye.

Among one of those most ardent of admirers was the Earl's fiancée, Lady Elizabeth Middleford, whom the Earl, though not equally fond of as she was of him, cherished as one of the few people left in this God-foresakened world who he truly cared about. Therefore, Ciel often felt sorry for being betrothed to her for he knew his duties to his parents, nay, he would not blame it on his kind, deceased parents, it was all his own doing, his choice to summon the Devil, and to seal the contract without hesitation too! But had he not made that choice to allow himself to live longer, had he accepted Death's hand, he would not have lived all these seven years, under the company of his friends. These seven years, though not always happy, as most of its early years were plagued by thoughts of vengeance and sorrows; was sufficient to let him rejoice in life, or to pretend to be... Can one pretend to be happy? Is it possible that after all that had passed, and having known what the future prospect of his soul was too be, that he could still feel happiness? He had not forgotten the vengeance that he had vowed to deliver, no, he had not, for as long as he lives, he could not forget. Therefore the Earl loathed himself for ever having felt happy, for his young mind, though intelligent, was determined and stubborn.

During this painful reflection of mind in his library, the footman had received a note from the Middleford's servant, who was almost scared away by his peculiar appearance and the snake that hung around his neck. The servant awaited for an answer and therefore the butler was soon called for to bring the message to Lord Phantomhive. The butler obligingly took the note, then hurried upstairs, for he knew his master could be nowhere but the library at this time of the day, for he neither enjoyed the sight of anybody nor wished to bury himself among his paperwork in his study. The Earl first did not notice his butler's presence at the door and the other was quite upset to find his master with a vexed expression upon his handsome face, though wishing to enqire after his master's well being, Sebastian was determined to finish the business at hand first, employing the most soothing tone as not to startle his master, he thus addressed him,

"My lord, Lady Elizabeth had sent you a note, and the servant awaits for an answer." Pleased that his master was not at all startled, he handed the note over.

Ciel did not say a word, but only glanced at its content with the most melancholy of expressions and indifference. Sebastian was not surprised, for Lady Elizabeth, though one of the persons of whom the Earl had a regard for, her company was not always desired much, though in general, the Earl did not desire much company at all, except that of his butler. Although Sebastian did not read the note, he already knew that the note was sent for to notice his master of her coming over to dine tonight, for it was his seventeenth birthday. When Ciel had finished reading the note that was written with so much sweetness and affection that would have warmed any other lover's heart, he put it aside with much indifference, and taking up a pen, he started writing a reply for his love letter, trying as best as he could to sound genuine and cheerful, as he well knew that his fiancée so deserved to be so well treated by an equally affectionate lover that he could never be, so long as his heart was bound somewhere else.

Slowly dripping crimson wax on the envelop and sliding his signet off his slender finger, Ciel sighed and said to no one in particular, "It had been seven years indeed."

Sebastian wanted to say something to comfort his young master, but remembering the note, took it from the desk, and excused himself again.

*I am imagining Ciel to be like 5'7" or something like that, never taller than Sebastian, who is 6'1"

A/N: Thank you for reading the whole passage! I am the type of person that needs encouragement, I am not very sure about this fic since it is written in another style, so please tell me how I am doing, I should be very grateful to any compliments and advices. Sorry for any OOCness.