[Sebastian bites the tip of his glove, dragging it off, and reaching a bare, pale hand to check Ciel's forehead]

You look quite pale, Young Master. [A raised eyebrow, and most nearly a B| look.] Milord, one warm cup will not cure a possible cold.

...I shall go and brew an herbal tea, one whose specific mixture is said to help human ailments such as a cold. [With a curt bow, he disappears into the kitchen. Don't be surprised if he returns in mere seconds. He is one hell of a butler, after all ;) ]