Lost and Found
Seeing the snot walk past his station, The Butler locked up his computer and peeked out of the doorway cautiously after a reasonable time had passed. Feeling it would be best to make himself scarce lest the brat decide to complain about the goings on, he made his way to the library quickly to take care of the books he had noticed scattered on a table earlier in the evening.
He very carefully put the books back in their proper location, since -a certain person- would have absolute fits if they were in the wrong sequence. Even with the librarian and himself keeping order in the library, the brat had a knack for finding the one mistake made, and furthermore seemed to know exactly who was responsible every time. And it wasn't enough to simply fix it himself, oh no; instead, Lord Grey would, in his oh so condescending way, feel the need to explain exactly why said book belonged here and not there.
Picking up the final book, he heard something fall to the ground and turned to see what he had upset.
Well. This was a surprise. Lord Grey's precious gloves.
Bloody hypocrite. The brat would throw a tantrum had anyone -else- left these books out of place, but of course he felt above his own standards.
Then it occurred to him that perhaps Lord Grey had intended to return, that he was not yet finished. Perhaps he had seen to his guest and was on his way here now. Surely the snot would at the very least wish to retrieve his gloves; in fact, it was unusual to see him without said apparel.
But then, what if the little thorn in his side -didn't- return, and the gloves went missing? The Butler would be blamed, he was sure of it. But taking the gloves and attempting to return them could lead to an accusation of the dreadful and unforgivable act of -moving his things-. Lord Grey did not like his possessions moved, or even touched really.
Deciding that the best course of action would be to put the gloves on the table and hope for the best, he bent over to pick them up, muttering under his breath.
"Can't catch a break, can I?"Â?
He came around one of the bookshelves to see the butler putting back the large genealogy ledgers of the clan and a pair of black leather gloves fall to the floor. Thaddeus -had- been here but was no longer -and- he left in enough of a hurry to leave his gloves.
Interesting, but what would he have discovered in those books to make him leave in a rush? His young clan mate already knew Emma's heritage and Sorin's own, not that he assumed Thaddeus had discovered anything leading back to him, but it never hurt to be cautious. The more he thought about it however, the more he decided Thaddeus was still likely on the wrong track altogether. He had probably been sitting in here pouring over the names of the Evenhet that were once a part of Anantya. Sorin smiled slyly to himself with satisfaction the perfect end to this whole affair would be to not only finally have gotten away with murder, have his large and none too bright accomplice permanently out of the picture, but to have Evenhet blamed for it, even more pleasing would be to have it frame that spoiled, egotistical blonde nuisance that seemed to have everything go so easily for him.
Not this time, he smiled, perhaps the mention of the letter from Emma was enough to have Thaddeus firmly believe Alfarinn was to blame, even more damning was the fact that the man -had- actually been there at the time. Sorin sighed happily at the vision of Alfarinn chained and on his knees before the Triad, the sentence of guilty being pronounced and the punishment of death to be carried out by Mai. He'd almost be willing to kiss the little Asian wench in gratitude for dealing the death stroke to the overly proud "Evenhet".
Wiping the sneer off his face at the thought of Alfarinn, Sorin smiled pleasently at the butler.
"Ah, Mr. Burke, I see that our young friend has forgotten his gloves." Sorin smirked inwardly at the term friend, sensing from long association that the help, this man in particular, had no love for Thaddeus.
" There is no need to trouble yourself over them. " He reached out and took the gloves and stepped back before the man could protest. "I was planning on hunting down our careless companion myself. You wouldn't happen to notice where he might have run off to, would you?"
He waited with a look of pleasant patience on his face for the information, deciding the gloves would be a perfect excuse for going to look for Thaddeus should he need one.
He could not help but be pleased with the solution presented; perhaps he could catch a break after all. He smiled in the subtle and dignified way of a butler and spoke at last.
Very good, Sir.
Very good indeed. He could not have asked for better luck than to stumble across Mr. Lazarovici this evening. While he held few warm feelings for vampires as a rule, the Elder was at the very least a lively character around the Manor, and had never been less than perfectly polite to him.
He saw no reason not to inform Mr. Lazarovici of the snot's whereabouts; he was, after all, Lord Grey's Elder. While discretion was the Butler's middle name (well, not really; his middle name, much to his embarrassment, was in fact Hilary), when asked a direct question from one of the Triad, he had best answer straight away.
I do believe Thaddeus Grey is entertaining company in his quarters this evening. You may do well to try there.
Still smiling, he continued. Though you had best hurry if you wish to catch him, sir; it will soon be dawn, and he will likely be seeing his guest out shortly.
"Well, we shall have to see if we can't catch him then."
Sorin turned and headed out of the library, placing the gloves in his pocket as he went. There was no need to appear that he had a habit of playing maid to the vampires of this place in front of some stranger.
Had Thaddeus found a human in his little search? He was torn between being amused and somewhat jealous. Of course he'd never consider Thaddeus a long term affair but the boy was lovely to look at and that blush of his was quite arousing, he wondered with an inward leer whether the boy's entire body became that color.
Maybe a human companion would loosen him up, get him thinking in the right direction, and who knows a little accident could happen and there would be Thaddeus needing someone to lean on. Sorin would be more than happy to help out by being the comforting friend, guide, lover... It would be fun for a bit, and who knew maybe his little companion would be easy to keep around, believing Sorin felt something for him. It might take a long while before that was over and with only minimal work on his part. He smirked at these thoughts as he neared Thaddeus's door. Carefully taking a neutral stance and expression, Sorin knocked smartly on the wood, hearing it resound clearly in air around him. There would be no pretending that it wasn't heard.
((OOC: Out *smirk* ))
He pulled one book just an inch forward, breaking the neat line on the shelf.
Take that Lord Grey.
He walked out of the library with a smug grin on his face.
/ooc outie!