It was far too early for this.

The sun had barely risen, was it fair to wake him up now?!

He was a bloody noble, an earl, and the audacity to—

Unfortunately, Ciel couldn't let himself think like that, for he was no more than a circus boy right now.

He was a new circus boy, he had to help with the cooking...

He couldn't do this.

His clothes were scruffy, completely messed up, his eyepatch had been frantically put on so that you wouldn't see the Faustian mark on it.

And here he was, peeling potatoes, pitifully...

They had practically been peeled to nothing, you couldn't tell peel from potatoes.

An amusing sight.

You just had to help him somehow.