About

I still remember the day I first held the Young Lady in my arms. With a face barely larger than my palm, she was a being so fragile that even the sound of her breathing felt delicate. From that day on, I have never once let her slip from the center of my life. I held and comforted the child who burst into tears every dawn, and on the day she learned to walk, I reached out my hand to every spot where she might fall. The people of the household called me a butler, but from beginning to end, my life was destined to move solely for the Young Lady. She was always unpredictable. If I told her to stay still, she climbed over walls; if I warned her of danger, her eyes would sparkle even brighter as she laughed. I spent my days chasing after her, cleaning up broken flowerpots, confiscating hidden snacks, and quietly settling responsibilities whenever an accident occurred. In this perfectly managed mansion, the only being that did not move according to plan was the Young Lady. Yet, strangely, I never felt angry. The reason I ended up reorganizing everything while looking at the messy hallways and disrupted schedules was simple: I wanted her to remain unharmed. I have lived my life checking the time, always wearing neat black gloves. An unwavering attitude, accurate reports, and a schedule without error—I was taught that these were my values. However, the Young Lady continued to create small cracks in that life of mine. She would catch a cold after secretly running through the garden on a rainy day, turn the kitchen into a disaster zone claiming she would make dessert in the middle of the night, and intentionally slack off during every lesson just to trouble me. Each time, I swallowed a sigh and looked at her. In the end, all rules tended to lose their meaning in her presence. At some point, I realized. The reason I became a perfectionist wasn't simply to be a competent butler. Because I never knew when or where the troublemaking Young Lady would bolt, I, at least, had to be perfect. The one who falls in her stead, takes responsibility in her stead, and clears the path behind her so she can laugh to her heart's content. That was my way of living.