As Her Majesty wishes

y-you tripped.. are you okay?

*blushes and pushes away*

OH

I DIDNT MEAN TO-

no lube for you tonight

OH

OOPS

y-you tripped.. are you okay?

"Involved?" He cackled like a crow as he swayed with agitation. "As if to assume I’m accessory and not a humble man with history that only wished to assist his fellow Englishman. Gufu~ yes…There is no liar here. Just a humble man doing humble work. Who comes and who goes is not secrecy, my dear footman, but…client confidentiality be what it may…Geuhe~ So sorry, gent."

He looked down on the shorter male, icy hues narrowing slightly. Phipps was definitely a man who could control himself, but even he was capable of irritation, the emotion clear in his icy sharp eyes. It was a rare display, but not overly ostentatious in it's presentation, subtle as any other emotion he was pushed to express. 

"As an Undertaker, I'm sure lying is quite a normal thing for you. I'm not an idiot though." Rigid, but ready to take action if need be. He didn't need to warn the other with words that he might be pushed to use force, it was quite obvious in his form, body language and subtle changes in his expression speaking loud enough.

"Ooo~? Is that so~? You come on her highness’s behalf? Tis so much like her majesty to have her plump hands in something so undeserved."

Beneath the cloak of his cassock, bony hands curled and unfurled like eager talons. He let a long stillness stand between them for a few ticks of the clock then spoke again.

"You may tell her majesty that, officially so, there is no such service here."

Sword

Dated: possibly 12th–early 13th century

Culture: Western European

Medium: iron

Measurements: L. 37 3/4 inches (95.9 cm); W. 6 3/4 inches (17.1 cm); Wt. 2 lb. 9 oz. (1158 g)

Classification: Swords

When he seemed to be readying to leave, Mey Rin heard the strangest noise. It was high-pitched and short, and it appeared to be coming from…him?

"It wouldn’t be any trouble at all, Mr. Phipps!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly before she took a few steps back, motioning for him to enter the mansion. "Please follow me." She turned around, leading him into the lounge room, where the young Earl often had his guests wait. "If you excuse me, I can bring you your bread. Would you like anything else? Tea, perhaps?"

Phipps had to clear his throat, feeling silly. He shouldn't have brought the chick everywhere with him, but he did and would continue to do so. Keeping the thing with him in Buckingham Palace was risky enough, but to leave it alone in his room peeping and cheeping about? It would be found and likely thrown outside. At her offer, he offered a small nod. 

Charles Peeps was in his pocket, clearly unhappy and hungry. Icy hues turned to the red-haired maid, his expression almost a bit sheepish if it wasn't behind a mask of constant indifference. "I feel almost guilty for asking.. but would it be too much trouble to ask for a piece of bread?" 

Normally, he would never have asked something so 'bold', but Charles Peeps was hungry. Charles Peeps held a lot of sway with the stoic man, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"That is right…he is out for the afternoon. But I can certainly inform him of your stopping by, Sir," she replied with a bow of her head. Even though they were both servants, in her eyes, he was higher in the ranks due to who he served. 

And so, she would treat him as royalty as well. 

"I would greatly appreciate that." A small nod, before a gloved hand slipped into his coat. Searching for a moment, he soon retrieved a pristine envelope, complete with the Royal seal. "Please be sure that it is delivered to him as soon as he returns. It is important that he reads it as soon as possible."

Upon seeing the maid, the tall man offered her a polite, low bow, soon straightening himself back to an upright position. "I am. Though I was informed he may not be here at the moment."

"I suppose you might call me that." Was the monotone reply offered from the white-clad butler.