With heavy steps, Taylor made his way through the grand halls of the mansion, his butler outfit impeccable, his demeanor as polished as ever.
Despite the persistent headaches that had plagued him, there was a determination in his stride as he prepared for the day ahead.
The headaches, thankfully, had been subsiding lately—a small mercy in the midst of his ongoing troubles.
The nightmares still haven't ended and it will probably remain that way.
'If I don't fix this now only the worse may come'
For the last three days Taylor had been rather nonchalant about his situation.
Today, however, Taylor had a plan.
He would seek solace in the sanctuary of the church, hoping that the priests there could offer guidance and perhaps even dispel the dark omens that plagued his dreams.
After all, combating evil was their specialty, and if anyone could identify the source of his torment, it would be the clergy.
Though he couldn't shake a twinge of guilt at the thought of leaving his duties to his young miss, he knew that his own well-being was paramount.
He couldn't bear to see her worry for him, not when he had a chance to find answers and put an end to his suffering.
"Is there a storm coming?" Taylor pondered aloud, glancing out the window at the gathering clouds.
The air crackled with an eerie tension, the winds picking up and the sky darkening ominously.
Even the lightning danced with an unsettling energy, casting jagged streaks across the heavens.
As the lightning crackled and sound of thunder reverberated in the air Taylor avoided looking at the skies his breathing became heavy as memories from that nightmare came back.
It reminded him of that nightmare….
The memory of his young miss sprawled on the ground, clutching the lifeless form of Prince Hansel, haunted Taylor's thoughts as he navigated the halls of the mansion.
The darkness of the present seemed to mirror the bleakness of that past moment, and he couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that lingered within him.
He knew it was just a nightmare.
But everything felt to real to be a mere nightmare.
Even his own reflection was playing with him just this morning.
All the other nightmares so far can be neglected but if his young miss was now involved….
He can't ignore it any further.
Shaking his head, Taylor pushed aside the memories, focusing instead on the task at hand.
With each step he took, the weight of his exhaustion seemed to deepen, the darkness encroaching further into the edges of his vision.
"Good morning, sir—"
"Good morning…."
"Sir T-Taylor about yester—"
Ignoring the gestures and greetings of the other servants who crossed his path, Afterall he knew most of them didn't really mean it anyway.
The way they avoided his gaze alone was proof of that.
Taylor pressed forward with a sense of urgency; his mind consumed by the need to address whatever was plaguing him.
Rumble…!
Rumble…!
'It's getting stronger…' as the skies grew darker with each passing moment Taylor hurried his steps, he can't have himself be stuck at the church once the heavy rain comes.
…..
Arriving at the grand entrance of the Kraus duchy's cherished church, Taylor gracefully descended from his carriage, his presence commanding respect even in this humble setting.
With a sense of gratitude, he pressed three pieces of silver into the coachman's eager hand, a generous reward for the swift journey.
The coachman's eyes widened at the unexpected bounty, a silent acknowledgment of Taylor's generosity, before he bowed respectfully and departed, disappearing into the bustling streets beyond.
Taylor couldn't help but appreciate the efficiency of public carriages—their drivers often possessed a keen intuition that made transactions smooth and effortless.
Despite occasionally overpaying by a significant margin, Taylor found solace in the simplicity of the exchange.
After all, wealth was relative, and in his own way, he was rich beyond measure.
Though the Kraus family carriage lay idle, Taylor had chosen to arrive discreetly, avoiding the attention that his prestigious lineage often attracted.
His visit to the church was a private affair—a secret shared only between himself and the divine.
As he ascended the imposing staircase leading to the church's entrance, Taylor was greeted by a chorus of excited voices.
A group of children, their youthful energy palpable, rushed towards him, their laughter echoing through the hallowed halls.
"Oh~! It's brother Taylor!"
"Big bro!"
"Taylor!!!"
Their joy was infectious as they enveloped him in warm embraces, their enthusiasm nearly toppling him over with their exuberance.
Chuckling softly, Taylor steadied himself, his heart swelling with affection for these young souls.
"Hehehe, why are you here, brother?"
"Is it time for the summer donation?"
"Big bro teach me swordsmanship"
Their questions tumbled out in a chorus of voices, each one eager for answers as they giggled and teased in equal measure.
"No, I came here for personal business," Taylor replied, his voice gentle as he affectionately patted each of the children on the head. To him, they were like cute little puppies, eager for attention and affection.
"Personal reasons? Did you get cursed, big bro?" one of the children innocently asked, their words striking a chord within Taylor.
"What are you saying Amy there's no way someone as strong as big bro would ever get cursed, right big bro?"
Though his body tensed momentarily at the blunt question, he quickly brushed it off with a soft chuckle.
He couldn't burden these innocent souls with the weight of his own troubles.
Patting their heads Taylor couldn't help but see his past self within them.
These children were orphans, taken in by the church and provided with care and support.
Taylor's role in delivering the duke's donations and handling paperwork for the church had naturally brought him close to them over time.
He often saw them during these visits, and their presence never failed to bring a smile to his face.
His fondness for children ran deep, a sentiment born from his own experiences as an orphan.
Unlike adults, who often carried their own burdens and complexities, children were pure and untainted by the harshness of the world.
The church and orphanages, with their mission to provide care and support to these vulnerable young souls, held a special place in Taylor's heart.
As someone who had once walked the same path as these children, Taylor felt a kinship with them that went beyond mere sympathy.
He understood their struggles and admired their resilience.
The bright smiles they gave him despite the daily struggles they probably go through, made him think positively for his situation.
"Big bro, where is the pretty lady you came here with last year?" one of the children asked, a hint of disappointment evident in their voice.
"Ah, well, the young miss is busy today, so she can't come," Taylor explained gently. It was a tradition for him and his young miss to visit the orphanage together once a year. Sometimes, even Prince Hansel, his young miss's fiancé, would join them on their visits.
Despite their noble and royal status respectively, they displayed a humility and warmth towards those of lower classes that Taylor deeply admired.
"Big bro, big bro, we heard you—" one of the children began excitedly, but their words were drowned out by a sudden commotion.
A man's voice, loud and angry, cut through the air like a thunderclap, causing the children to freeze in fear.
"Hey, you brats! What do you think you're doing!?" the man bellowed, brandishing a broom with a ferocity that sent shivers down Taylor's spine.
His face contorted with rage, veins bulging in his forehead, the man seemed ready to unleash his fury upon the unsuspecting children.
"Ah, it's the father! Run!" one of the children cried out in panic, their voices rising in a chorus of fear.
"Bye-bye, big bro!"
"Let's go, everyone!"
In a flurry of movement, the children bid hasty goodbyes to Taylor before scattering in all directions, their laughter replaced by the sounds of frantic footsteps echoing through the halls.
"Wait, you brats!" the man shouted, his anger fueling his pursuit as he attempted to chase down the fleeing children.
The man's expression shifted from anger to surprise as he noticed Taylor standing before him.
"Ah, sir Taylor, good morning... why are you here?" he stammered with slight confusion, his tone now laced with embarrassment as he hastily attempted to regain his composure.
A blush colored his cheeks as he coughed lightly, a feeble attempt to conceal his recent outburst.
Quickly, he tried to hide the broom behind his back, as if realizing the implication of his actions.
It was clear to Taylor that the man had intended to use it for discipline, but now seemed sheepish about his intentions.
Taylor couldn't help but smile at the man's reaction, understanding the complex emotions that had led to his outburst.
With a slight nod of acknowledgment, Taylor extended his hand in greeting before retracting it, a gesture of respect.
"Good morning, Father Deus," Taylor greeted warmly. "If you're not too busy, may I have a moment of your time?"
Father Deus, one of the two priests at the Kraus Duchy known for his ability to dispel curses.
With a hopeful mind, Taylor sought to address the matter that had brought him to the church.
"Well, if it's Sir Taylor asking, of course I have the time, hoho," Father Deus replied with a chuckle, his hand gently stroking his beard in contemplation.
"Come, let us get inside."
With a benevolent smile, Father Deus gestured for Taylor to follow him as they made their way towards the sanctuary of the church.
As they walked, Taylor couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that he had the support of someone as knowledgeable and respected as Father Deus.
He was sure his problems would be solved now that an expert is around to fix it.