Extra Chapter 1. Butler Gustav’s Daily Work Log

2024.04.12.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day]

My lord has returned to the manor.

Following the furious voice of Marquis Rev, the knights of House Rev began capturing all strange animals around the estate and initiated a purification process.

The birds, watching with unpleasant expressions (not the canaries we had previously driven away, but real birds), quietly retreated.

The manor, which had trembled in anxiety upon hearing rumors of my lord’s rebellion and then buzzed with strange excitement at the news that he might become emperor, now appears to be gradually stabilizing alongside the eerie purification work.

Though I had resolved to welcome him joyfully, even my loyal greeting was met with only a curt reply from my lord.

“Bring me the cleaning solution.”

To explain further, the cleaning solution previously made by Madam is currently being sold under the name [Roxenhardt Special Formula], and since numerous similar products have since flooded the market—besides, cleaning itself is a task with countless variations depending on where one cleans—I hesitated briefly, unsure of his meaning.

“The cleaning solution my wife made. Bring it.”

Only then did this old butler finally understand correctly, retrieving from storage the bottles long piled up but left untouched out of emotional reluctance.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, noon]

After feeding the knights of Marquis Rev until they were full and helping them tidy the surroundings, I saw my lord conversing for quite some time with stableman Mazarin at the front of the manor.

Curious about what was happening, I hurried over, only to find my lord pressing his temples and declaring he would wipe away all the grime from this black manor within ten days.

Honestly, men who’ve never done a day of manual labor in their lives! (This sentence is merely an exclamation of dismay, in no way implying any lack of loyalty toward my lord.)

Even Madam, who was quite skilled at cleaning, had taken a considerable amount of time just to clean the east wing—and even then, wielding a cleaning brush never quite suited her appearance—yet how could my lord, who looks utterly out of place holding such a tool (again, do not question this butler’s loyalty), possibly clean this entire vast manor within ten days?

Deeply worried, I offered my advice.

“It’s absolutely impossible to do alone.”

“What if I do it anyway?”

Responding with this petulant retort, my lord fell silent, while stableman Mazarin began chattering on like a scheming advisor about efficient cleaning methods.

Despite having never cleaned an old estate like this before—having only shoveled horse manure at best!—his suggestions seemed to please my lord greatly. My lord then completely ignored this butler and, without even taking a proper meal since returning, rolled up his sleeves to begin work.

Good heavens!

Couldn’t he at least review some documents needing approval, since he’s finally back after so long?

Why on earth has he suddenly decided to clean the exterior walls?

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, evening]

Head chef Ralph came storming into my office, where I was busy organizing accounts, clearly furious.

He had learned that my lord hadn’t touched a single meal and seemed determined to work through the night on cleaning.

This old butler and the head chef approached a brightly lit section of the main hall.

But the two of us—rushing in flustered, the chef grumbling—could do nothing but stand dumbfounded, staring silently at my lord.

My lord, perched atop a tall ladder, was completely absorbed, as if cut off from the world, scrubbing the wall with intense focus.

Beneath furrowed brows, my lord’s dark, sunken eyes brimmed with determination—to sweep away this ancient grime and reveal the fresh red hue beneath.

He looked terribly strained, yet each time a brick regained its true color, a faint flicker of joy would briefly soften his otherwise stern expression.

We, who had watched my lord since his childhood when he occasionally visited here, suddenly found overwhelming emotion rising within us, unable to speak, only silently patting each other’s shoulders.

From the time the curse ended and he inherited the countship, to later bringing countless women into the manor and wandering the nation—

Despite possessing beauty unmatched by anyone in the world, my lord still felt, in essence, like the Black Manor itself.

Yet now, seeing him strain his arms to scrub away the old stains, I was overcome with mixed emotions.

“If only Madam were here now, how wonderful it would be.”

In the end, all the head chef and I could do was quietly leave behind the late-night snacks we had prepared, and as we walked back to our quarters, we murmured to ourselves:

“She really should have seen him like this, acting so human. Oh, how I wish she had.”

The above words were spoken not by this butler, but by head chef Ralph. I mention this to avoid any misunderstanding.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day]

Since receiving a message hawk from Sir Lancelot early this morning, my lord has been extremely irritable.

Now he has completely stopped eating and spends the entire day solely on exterior cleaning. Moreover, he has ordered the servants to prepare the mistress’s bedroom.

When I asked what this meant, he didn’t even deign to reply, too focused on cleaning the outer walls.

“Could it be… a new mistress is coming?”

“If it’s not our Madam, I won’t follow anyone—never, not truly!”

Hena, who had always been dejected since our former Madam left, suddenly flared with anger.

A girl who had once been Princess Apollini’s playmate, she occasionally behaved disrespectfully toward my lord—a matter I, as butler, should firmly correct.

……But how can one demand personal loyalty beyond mere service?

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, evening]

After personally cleaning my lord’s room for over ten years, this butler today discovered a new talent of my lord and felt deeply moved.

It has been nearly five days since my lord single-handedly began cleaning the exterior walls.

Though only the front section so far, seeing the main hall of this vast manor nearly regain its full red hue left me speechless.

My lord’s movements are extraordinary. At this rate, the grime on the entire front facade may be gone in just one or two days.

How absurdly my heart races.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, noon]

Early this morning, my lord, who had gone out to Marquis Rev’s territory, unexpectedly brought back a guest.

Three coffins containing the remains of the late Emperor, the late Empress, and Princess Apollini were transferred to the newly prepared family cemetery behind the manor.

I had thought, perhaps naively, that my lord simply wanted a change of scenery after finishing the exterior wall cleaning.

Yet my lord, having accepted only Marquis Rev’s assistance, completed the entire transfer alone. Even as evening approached, he remained seated at the cemetery, simply gazing at his departed family.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, evening]

Eventually, my lord, who had not left the cemetery even late into the night, returned on horseback from somewhere.

He carried something small wrapped in his outer garment, cradling it gently like an infant, and headed back toward the cemetery.

Stableman Mazarin, who had come to tie up my lord’s horse, told me it seemed he had brought back Oliver, who had been buried in the nearby chapel.

Tears welled up in this old butler’s eyes—foolish tears, for I hadn’t treated the poor creature well when he was alive.

Hena would cry even harder if she found out. For now, this must remain a secret.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, noon]

Nearly ten days have passed since my lord began cleaning the exterior walls.

In the meantime, he has been endlessly busy—redecorating the family cemetery, cleaning the mistress’s bedroom, stocking firewood and water.

My lord seems truly on the verge of finishing the exterior cleaning as promised. To complete a task that would take professionals much longer, in such a short time—

I’ve heard that a Sword Master’s physique far surpasses that of ordinary humans, but I never dreamed I’d witness it in such a context.

By now, all the servants cannot help but sense that a new guest will soon arrive at the manor.

No one dares interrupt my lord’s relentless focus on the walls.

The servants, including this butler, can only speculate in tense silence about who could be the person making my lord so desperately eager.

Allow me, as butler, to add a personal opinion: whoever this new guest—or perhaps… mistress—may be,

I sincerely hope, this time, she does not leave.

I wonder how our previous Madam is faring these days.

Every time I see the manor growing increasingly red and beautiful, I think of her—the one who once treated this desolate estate as the safest, most secure place in the world.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, evening]

Good heavens.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, morning]

I thought the scene from last night must have been a dream, so I rubbed my eyes, fell back asleep, then hurried out early in the morning to inspect the manor’s exterior.

The entire front of the manor had perfectly regained its red hue.

Frantically knocking on my lord’s bedroom door, I sensed movement inside, but received no answer.

Knocking once more, my lord finally poked his face out, clearly irritated.

He was unmistakably in an extremely awkward state—his lower body covered only by the white sheets I changed daily—yet he blocked the rest with the door and simply said:

“Not a single rat or vermin is to come near this bedroom today.”

I tried to peek through the crack, but it was impossible.

Standing dazed before the closed door, I suddenly caught sight of a flash of black hair—and instantly trembled like a man struck by lightning, rushing away in haste.

(I must clarify: in over thirty years as a butler, this is the first time I have ever run down the stairs so recklessly. I also reiterate that, having served royalty for many years, I have rarely lost my dignity.)

“O-our Madam might have returned!”

One sentence was all it took. The ensuing commotion in the kitchen needs no further explanation.

Please understand how urgently this old man rushed to stop head chef Ralph, who was charging forward with a ladle in hand to confirm the news.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, evening]

After spending the entire previous day without leaving the bedroom, my lord suddenly shouted for someone to bring women’s clothing.

Naturally, we brought our Madam’s clothes. Whether my lord personally assisted or not, Madam emerged from the bedroom looking somewhat embarrassed.

Those who had been murmuring about how cruelly she had left and why she had returned were first stunned by her matured grace, then stunned again upon seeing how clothes that once fit perfectly now hung excessively loose.

Hena, who had been determined to demand a full explanation from Madam, lost all her earlier defiance and, upon seeing her, impulsively rushed forward, clinging to Madam and bursting into tears.

The problem, however, was head chef Ralph.

[One morning of an unspecified month and day, morning]

Head chef Ralph declared across the entire manor that he would make Madam exactly twice as plump as she is now.

On the faces of those who pledged to follow him, a solemn determination was clearly visible.

I, this butler, hereby declare my participation in this cause as well.