For centuries the demon currently called Sebastian has changed and morphed into many forms to fit their various roles, from warriors to samurai to court advisors and messengers, even to unseen assassins that remained cloaked in robes and shadows and were never seen except by their masters to finish the deed they'd been set out to do.
In more recent years they'd been summoned specifically in Europe, to those in need of dignified, servantile helpers, who would be seen, not just in general as helpers, but like trophies that the noble had collected to add to their collection of boot-licking, head-bowing, asking-no-questions-ever-or-else-they'd-get-the-boot dogs.
But to now drop so, so low as to be summoned and used by a mere slip of a child...
A child who'd been coddled and sheltered and fussed over and was of this familiar noble blood.
But a child none the less.
To have to clothe and bathe him.
To have to feed him and carry him.
To have to watch every second for the possibility for any sign of cold or infection to attack his small feeble body before even a another human foe can get close!
To have to stay in his quarters after he is trying to sleep, to assure the child no one will harm him.
To have to verbally say it even, over and over, even as the child stares up into their ancient red eyes with fear and loathing combined, but also hope and determination that they can carry on, making it through this new challenge; being an earl to an empty manor and throne.
And finding those responsible for putting them in this situation to begin with.
If possible.
....
This current form, this current contract.
This current life.
It feels like the most fun the demon has had in centuries.
As far as they can recall.
