Black Butler - A Ladies Maid Worth Dying For.

Aurelia St.Claire is the heir to the prestigious company named: ‘St.Claire Pâtisseries’. A marvellous organisation that creates incredible cakes and pastries of all kinds... But when her parents are killed in a tragic accident, things become a little more... well... interesting...


6. Her Maid, Troubled.

Eugene led a sniggering Aurelia out of the room, almost tripping over Raymond who was attempting to stand as Victoria followed with a smirk, kicking out one of Raymond’s legs from under him, sending him sprawling with a grunt and hitting his already bloody nose into the wooden floor. They all stopped once they entered the main corridor, Aurelia at the front, Victoria and Eugene flanking, and a wounded Raymond still on the dining hall floor. All facing towards the two figures standing in the doorway.


The first was a woman. Fairly slim and tall, about Victoria’s height, wearing a deep pink dress that fit her curves perfectly and contrasted with her curly blonde hair which fell about her shoulders. She had deep green eyes and pale skin. Two features which she shared with her son, which was stood beside her. He seemed about 6 years old with the same eyes and the same hair, standing up to his mother’s elbow, about two feet shorter than Aurelia, short for his age. The woman, as soon as seeing Aurelia, rushed forward and embraced her. Wrapping her arms around her as Aurelia stood stiffly in the embrace.

“Aurelia, I heard what happened, I do hope you’re feeling alright, it’s all so sad...”

“Eugh.. Thanks Aunt Rose... “

Aurelia murmured in reply, finding it difficult to breath. Aunt Rose eventually released her after a few seconds of awkward hugging and backed away.

“Mummy... I’m thirsty...”

Murmured the little boy, clinging to his mother’s dress.

“Eugene.. grab Arthur some juice will you...”

Aurelia said simply, rubbing her eyes with her palm, and the butler nodded, scurrying off.

“Thank you Aurelia, I-“

Rose stopped herself when she spotted the dark haired woman behind Aurelia. Victoria bowed her head and curtseyed.

“A pleasure to meet you ma’am...”

Victoria said melodiously, hiding her smirk behind her hair.

Rose blinked, nodded.


“Aunt, this is Victoria.”

Aurelia interrupted.

“She’s my new maid. Victoria, this is my Aunt Rose and my cousin Arthur, from my father’s side.”

Rose nodded slightly, frowning a little as Victoria straightened, before turning back to Aurelia.

“Should we... move to the living room?...”

Aurelia nodded a little before walking into the living room and sitting down in her chair, Arthur went to sit in the main armchair and she glared at him with a coldness that could freeze hot coals. He sat on the loveseat with his mother. Victoria sitting on a small stool beside Aurelia.

“So, Victoria, what did you do before you came here?”
Enquired Rose.

“Well, I worked in a mansion in France as a lady’s maid for a few months.”

She lied.

“Oh really? That must have been interesting.”

This pointless conversation continued between Victoria and Rose for a few minutes as Aurelia’s emotions bubbled in the corner. Her hands slowly began to grip the arms of her chair a little tighter, her nails digging into the fabric. Jaw clenching.

How dare they... just shut up.. shut up..

“SHUT UP!!!”

Aurelia screamed, having jumped up from her seat and glared at her aunt and her maid, who both seemed shocked.

“How dare you act as if everything is normal! How fucking DARE you! My parents died! They DIED, yesterday, and you’re all talking as if everything is perfect! I am sick of everyone trying to pretend this isn’t happening, trying to pretend that this is all a dream or some stupid freaking act! I CAN’T STAND IT!”

She finished, tears in her eyes as she stormed out and ran up the stairs, into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.


Aunt Rose moved to follow, then stopped herself and sighed.

“I think.. I’m going to take Arthur home for his supper... Say goodbye to Aurelia for us would you Victoria...”

Rose picked up her sniffling son and walked to the door, out of the house, and down the pathway to her carriage. Not once looking back.

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