As the morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow across the pristine white room, its beauty seemed to amplify.
Within its confines, a scene of tender care unfolded.
A young man, Taylor, sat behind a stunning young lady, gently combing through her luscious golden locks, each strand shimmering with a delicate grace.
Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of blue, met his gaze in the mirror, reflecting a silent exchange of familiarity and affection.
"Taylor, I heard you passed out yesterday. Are you alright?" she inquired, her concern evident in the furrow of her brow.
"I'm fine, young miss. I suppose I indulged a bit too much in alcohol yesterday haha" Taylor replied with a self-deprecating chuckle, his hand absently scratching his head.
"Is that so? Please, do try to go easier on the alcohol. I'll only be around for about a week longer, and I worry that you might develop a problem if you continue at this rate," the young lady admonished gently, her words laced with genuine worry as she placed a hand on his cheek, her expression tinged with sadness.
Her month-long vacation from the rigors of the academy was drawing to a close, and yet, instead of finding her cherished childhood friend flourishing, she discovered him drowning in alcohol.
She had held onto the hope that he was faring well, reassured by the sporadic letters she received from him.
However, the reality before her painted a different picture, one that left her feeling disheartened and helpless.
Not to mention the cacophony of unsettling rumors that had reached her ears through the whispers of the servants.
"Young miss, I think it's best to avoid being friends with that man," one servant had cautioned her secretly, their tone laced with apprehension.
"Young m-miss, he may be your personal butler, but I believe distancing yourself from him would be the wisest course of action," another had advised, their words tinged with a hint of urgency as they kept looking round nervousness laced within their eyes.
"Young miss, he's crazy!" exclaimed yet another, their eyes wide with fear as they recounted tales of Taylor's supposed eccentricities. The young servant even throwed up as he recalled what happened.
"Young miss, he's too dangerous for you to be around with!" echoed a final warning, the servant's voice trembling with genuine concern for her safety.
Ever since Stella's return from the academy after a year-long absence, she had been eagerly anticipating the reunion with her one and only best friend.
As childhood companions, Stella had always regarded Taylor as more than just a servant – he was her confidant, her companion, her younger brother in all but blood.
Their bond ran deep, forged through years of shared experiences and unwavering loyalty.
Excitement bubbled within her as she looked forward to hearing Taylor's tales of the time she had spent away and to reliving happy moments together.
However, her joy was swiftly overshadowed by the barrage of negative comments and warnings that greeted her upon her return.
Confusion and disbelief clouded Stella's thoughts as she struggled to reconcile the image of the loyal friend she knew with the ominous rumors swirling around him.
Despite the warnings, she couldn't bring herself to distance herself from Taylor. The thought alone was unthinkable – he was more than just a servant; he was family.
Despite the warnings and whispers of the other servants, Stella steadfastly refused to believe that her beloved Taylor could be capable of the heinous acts they described.
She was determined to judge him for herself, to see beyond the veil of gossip and rumor, and to uncover the truth hidden beneath.
For nearly four weeks, she observed him closely, scrutinizing his every action and interaction. To her relief, she found nothing amiss.
Taylor remained the same lovable, caring individual she had always known, save for the occasional overindulgence in alcohol – a flaw she was more than willing to overlook.
As she gazed at him now, his demeanor appeared as normal and endearing as ever.
A fond smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she marveled at his innocence and charm.
'Yup, there's no way this little cutie of mine would act like the rumors,' she mused, her conviction unwavering.
After all, who in their right mind would believe that Taylor, her cherished friend and confidant, could be capable of such atrocities?
The tales of severed fingers, brutal assaults, and cruel acts of manipulation seemed preposterous when juxtaposed with the gentle soul she knew him to be.
I mean who in their right mind would cut off a person's finger just because you pissed him off right?
Even punching somebody to near death just because you looked at him with disdain?
Or even force someone to eat food after breaking all of their teeth.
'You would have to be crazy mad maniac to do that'
As they spent their morning together, laughter and companionship filling the air, Stella reveled in the blissful ignorance of their shared bond.
She cherished each moment spent in Taylor's company, blissfully unaware of the shadow that lurked behind his smiling facade.
The morning passed by uneventfully, the normalcy of their routine serving as a comforting balm to Stella's troubled thoughts.
…
'Ugh… I'm tired'
With a resigned sigh, I exited the lady's room and straightened the collar of my impeccably tailored suit.
As one of the butlers of this prestigious household, it was imperative that I maintained an air of firmness, cleanliness, and gentle refinement at all times.
Running a hand through my red hair, I glanced at the small pocket mirror I held, admiring the reflection of my ever-handsome face.
'Yup, as handsome as ever'
Despite the day having just begun, my body still felt the lingering effects of yesterday's ordeal.
The mental strain I had endured had taken its toll, culminating in an embarrassing loss of consciousness.
The alcohol I had consumed provided a convenient excuse for my sudden collapse, though it did little to alleviate the discomfort that lingered within me.
'I'm glad the young miss didn't ask too many questions'
But what exactly was that yesterday?
Those visions… no those nightmares that plagued my subconscious.
Even now, I struggled to piece together the fragmented memories that swirled in my mind like a turbulent whirlpool.
Images and voices flashed before my eyes – Sophia, the angelic presence; a demonic creature leering at me with malevolent intent; a girl brandishing a gleaming dagger; a depraved priest with a serpent-like tongue, and a bunch more.
The recollections were disjointed, like scenes from a convoluted play unfolding simultaneously before me.
As I pondered the lingering effects of yesterday's indulgence in alcohol, a nagging thought crept into my mind – was this discomfort merely the consequence of overdoing it, or was it perhaps a form of karmic retribution for my actions at the bar the previous night?
A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I recalled the altercation that had unfolded.
"P-please forgive me!!!"
"Haah?? You're the one who started this didn't you, old man?"
"AHHHH!!!"
He screamed as I Twisted his arm like spaghetti.
It had been the man's own fault for provoking me, after all.
Hearing him scream was really nice...
And those cronies of his? They had only served to exacerbate the situation.
"Hey what are you doing?"
"Let go of him"
"Die bastard!"
They didn't even last a single punch.
It was only fitting that they received a taste of their own medicine – a brutal lesson delivered with swift and decisive force.
'If the knights and guards patrolling won't do anything on those thugs I might as well right?'
After all, it had been seven against one, so beating them to near death and severing their boss's arms had felt like poetic justice.
I had merely acted in defense of myself and, more importantly, in defense of the honor and dignity of the household I served.
Remembering what he said makes my blood boil.
'That bastard even dared to think of the young miss with perverted thoughts like that… I should've cut off his tongue.'
'That bastard should still be in the hospital nearby, should I pay him a visit?'
With a resigned sigh, I acknowledged the need to lay low for a while.
Despite my outward bravado, my head still throbbed with the remnants of yesterday's exertions.
Adjusting my suit once more, I steeled myself for the tasks that lay ahead.
There were still numerous tasks to be completed, but one stood out as a top priority – preparing the garden terrace for the upcoming tea ceremony involving the young miss and the esteemed Winchester family, along with the Duchess.
As one of the top butlers in this prestigious household, it fell upon me to ensure that every detail was meticulously arranged before the maids began their preparations.
After all, I had been entrusted with the responsibility by both the head butler and the head maid, a testament to my capabilities and expertise in managing such affairs.
As I made my way through the corridors, I couldn't help but notice the maids scurrying past, their gazes averted and their bodies trembling with apprehension.
A pang of amusement mingled with frustration as I contemplated their reaction – was I truly that intimidating?
It wasn't as if I hadn't been kind to them before.
In fact, my actions had always been in service of the greater good – the preservation of the household's honor and the protection of its masters.
The incident with the gardener, for instance, had been entirely justified.
After all, how dare he defile the flower field personally tended to by the young miss?
Despite my repeated warnings, he had persisted in his negligence.
In my eyes, a few lost fingers were a small price to pay for such insolence.
Yeah, that gardener deserved it.