Black Butler Backgrounds Novels & Stories

Without a word, he climbed the stairs and disappeared into the upper floor. Cynthia blinked. A strange mixture of relief and disappointment settled inside her chest. Moments later, another man approached. He appeared to be in his late fifties, dressed in a dark suit. "Miss Hart." His voice was polite. Cynthia turned toward him. "My name is William Foster. I am the butler of Blackwood Estate." She offered a small smile. "Nice to meet you." "Please follow me." The butler picked up her small bag and led her toward a grand staircase. As they walked, Cynthia couldn't help noticing how enormous the mansion was.

I nod, swallowing hard, and step into what I know without a doubt is Blake’s office. It’s a sharp contrast to the finery of the castle, which is dressed in shades of gold, white, and the occasional touch of crimson. Here, the large, open space is shrouded in tones of gray and black, everything sleek and modern. A large desk made of black wood takes up a huge area of the far reaches of the room. Ceiling height bookshelves made of tinted glass span the walls, and only a smidgen of sunlight breaches thick gray curtains covering the windows. “His Highness doesn’t normally take a tea or coffee service this time of morning, but I’ll bring one up for you,” the maid says and promptly leaves, closing

It’ll only draw more attention to us, which I’m not keen on making happen. “What do you mean by uniquely?” I ask at a standard volume. He tips his chin at the chattering and swaying attendees enjoying every moment in this room, padded with red velvet walls and carpets with almost every antique furniture matching the colour code. Speaking of which, my sight winnows to the woman by my side and the one next to her and the one next to her...and what he’s been pointing out dawns on me in a cold instant. Everyone’s in black. “See?” His voice slithers back into hearing range, and I groan.

Overwhelmed by emotions and physical exhaustion, I found myself unable to speak. We were walking side by side. Where is he taking me? As I stepped into the Lycan Prince's room, the contrast of the black and white color scheme immediately caught my attention. The walls, painted in a pristine white, seemed to reflect the moonlight that sneaked in through the large windows, casting an ethereal glow on the sleek, black furniture. Each piece, from the bed with its luxurious, ebony sheets to the elegant, dark chairs, was carefully chosen to create a harmonious balance between power and grace, much like the prince himself.

“You are my mate. Regardless of whether we have done the ceremony yet, you are my Luna.” My cheeks flushed at his words; the thought of being a Luna had weighed heavily on my mind, but now was not the time to dwell on it. “Come this way,” the butler said, clearing his throat. The butler was a tall, lanky man with hair so dark that it was like charcoal. He walked in long strides, his head held high, and his hands clasped together behind his back.

And of course. The picture of a water lily with a black and white background... "Miss Walker?" I look away from the painting as the butler who is now standing infront of a door that is opened says "Right this way" I walk up to him, and stop at the door, peering into the room before slowly entering it. It is.... Not like anything I had seen. The walls were white, the right part of it, and the left, black, but the one wall with his bed directly infront of it was ash with black and write spirals, and so was his bed....

Upon reaching his father's office, Weylin stood there, observing his surroundings. The walls were painted with grey colour. Most of the furniture seemed to be of limited edition and highly expensive. Weylin chuckled internally upon observing that most of the things were black coloured. Starting from the expensive couch to the shelves, most of the items were black coloured since black was Blake Turner's favourite colour. His taste is still the same. He can never step down from expensive and luxurious choices. Weylin smiled. He is the leader of 'The Devils' after all.

I am going to asked Joeff for a charger. The old butler knock smoothly to his door. Enough to make a sound. The door open, and… It was jaw-drop when I enter his room. His room is just fantastic! But it contradicted the color of my room. This just look so elegant with a black and white motif. I can imagine seeing myself on a chess board. @DEATH WISH Thank you for supporting my Novel! You may also read my complete Novel, (hmmm... while waiting for an update)

William gestured and directed the other three to their seats. "Thanks for coming!" Mrs Johnson added. Everybody balanced their behinds well on the seats, some twisted their bodies, some cleared their throats and exhaled, they were determined to make themselves comfortable. "This is Mr Blackstone, the Registrar", William pointed to a white man in his late 50's, he wore a black suit, tie and a black pair of trousers. His age reflected on his face, he had the perfect brown hair and a grey pair of eyes, his face held a calm feeling to it.

The car slows to a stop, and the driver opens the door. The butler greets me with a slight bow. “Mr. Blackwood is inside. Shall I announce you?” “No need,” I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I’ll go in myself.” I push open the heavy doors and step into the dimly lit study. Dark wood, shelves of leather-bound books, a massive desk—symbols of the power that destroyed my family. Ethan stands by the window, his back to me, his silhouette outlined against the fading light. He holds a glass of whiskey, his posture rigid, as though he sensed my presence the moment I entered.