This young master is different from the rest. He is brutal, yet tender. His need for vengeance is strong, but it only satisfies him if he avenges his parents himself. Such a soul...how can I ever think of another? I may starve for his delectable, singing, flavorful soul, but at the same time, I am afraid to touch it. I am afraid I will make it impure. This is my only thought as I watch him fall asleep. That soft porcelain face, casting away the horrors of the day, only to awaken the next day to more of the same. It is indeed a wondrous thought that he has survived so long without breaking his fragile mind. I do so hope that he can recover from this, I think as I gently kiss his lips. I must steal away now. I have already breached the careful boundary between butler and master, and to do any more would perhaps have me evicted from his presence.
"Sweet dreams, young master," I say, blowing out the candles and exiting the room.
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