A Butler's Observation Journal

Day 1:

I figured I’d start writing a journal as it’s something I’ve wanted to try writing and now is the perfect time to do so; I’ve recently gotten myself into quite the situation. Now, while this job isn’t the most enjoyable, it pays well, even if Mr. and Mrs. Valandor aren’t the worst people to be around; their elitism gets tiring real fast. Rich elves. Filthy rich elves. What a combination.

If you somehow don’t know who the Valandors are, they’re a family of elves who gained their fortune selling magical lamps. While expensive, magical lamps are certainly worth investing in due to convenience and functionality, thus how the Valandors gained their wealth hundreds of years ago, back before the luxuries of modern life such as cars and electricity even existed. There were enough monsters and unexplored land that people were able to make a living as an ‘adventurer’, by killing monsters, finding treasure, etc. As anyone can imagine, lamps that aren’t put out by water or a lack of oxygen were much more efficient than flames whilst exploring. It certainly sounds like an… interesting life, but that was hundreds of years ago. Point is, even back then Elves were known for their magic proficiency, and they still live ridiculously long lives because of it! I mean, how long are you going to look 20 for!? Why are elves naturally good looking as well, huh!? That mixed with their general disdain for the other races frankly makes them even more insufferable to be around. Thankfully most elves these days don’t have that mentality… but certainly not the Valandors. I bet that this is only their second generation— at least after they began to sell lamps. My family would have to spend generations creating such a thing. It’s… frustrating to say the least.

Anyways, Along with their parents, there are three mini Valandors (yay…): the youngest, a small and snotty boy who is the brattiest kid you’ll ever meet, the middle child, a young girl who looks to be around the age of a teenage human, and doesn’t seem too bad unless you upset her, and the worst one, the oldest; a young elf named Everett who looks to be in his early 20s, but you know he’s much older in elf years. I have so very luckily been assigned to watch over him during his parent's business trip. Yup. Watch over. For an entire month. A whole grown ass man… Gods.

I don’t know much about him aside from his name and of course his schedule but what I do know is that he gives off an elitist aura strong enough to rival his mother’s. The very first time I’d met him, he didn’t do so much as smile. All I felt was the piercing stare of his cold blue eyes scanning me up and down. His brows were furrowed in a scowl whilst he seemingly examined every little part of me. His gaze seemed to pause at my collar which was certainly unusual. Even so, I pushed past this discomfort and spoke in the most professional manner I could.

“My name is Arden Klein. I will be watching over you until your parents return from their business trip.”

I bowed deeply at the waist and as soon as I stood upright again, he looked me right into the eyes and asked, “So you’re the new butler?”

Everett’s tone was more condescending than the frosty look on his face. Before I could respond or even process what he’d said, he took a step forward and lifted his hands towards my collar, causing me to freeze on the spot. I got a whiff of his surely expensive, yet subtle cologne— He smelled like flowers and something sweet that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Despite my initial confusion, I soon put together that he was adjusting my bowtie. It must’ve been crooked. Only after adjusting it did he take a step back.

“I am quite surprised my parents failed to hire someone more… suitable.”

That was the last he’d ever looked me in the eyes or directly acknowledged me since I began working here about a year ago. Tomorrow’s “reunion” is going to be… interesting.

Day 2:

Today was the first day watching over Master Everett. Now, what I wasn’t told was that I’d be the only one watching him. Usually a couple of maids and butlers stand next to the doors of whichever room any members of the family were in, ready to be called for service at any time. This morning (and every morning after) it would be my job to wake him up.

Everett’s hair was usually tied into a low ponytail and then curled and put over to rest on his shoulder, but that morning it was an absolute mess. Locks of his platinum blonde hair stood out from the rest chaotically, a stark contrast to the silky rapunzel-escue hair that elves are known for. Out of pure decency and fear of being scolded I looked away (it was also to keep myself from laughing).

Later on his daily walk in the garden I also accompanied Everett, awkwardly following from a few feet away in fear of upsetting him. What if another bowtie incident were to happen? Or he scolds me with that demeaning tone? It was better not to try, nor did it matter that much. The outdoors always manage to cheer me up, so it didn’t feel very awkward when I focused on that. The estate’s garden is absolutely beautiful too and so was the weather. All of the garden’s flowers were beginning to bloom and each step brought more floral scents than the last. I couldn’t imagine growing up in a place like this— having a vast garden where you can play, take lovely strolls, and admire your surroundings. On top of that, the gardeners handled the upkeep so you’d not even have to do anything other than enjoy.

While Everett did his own thing in the garden, whether it was looking at the wide assortment of flowers or sitting down to read, I pretty much did my own— And by my own thing, I mean standing nearby idly. I'm unsure if Mr. and Mrs. Valandor were worried about him falling into a rabbit hole or what, because as expected, nothing happened.

The entire day went like this— me watching him from the nearest corner, occasionally ringing the room’s bell for tea and such as per Everett’s request (I was not allowed to leave his vicinity aside from meals and when I needed to use the bathroom), and saying absolutely nothing. It feels like a break of sorts, but when you’re not busy at work, time just doesn’t seem to move. I’ll continue writing entries whenever something interesting happens… so it may be a few days.

Day 6:

During the past week each day has been just as uneventful as the last. Despite it being quite a few days now, Everett still refuses to say anything or even acknowledge me. I suppose it’s okay. I’m beginning to grow used to it.

His schedule is always the same. Wake up. Eat. Magic lessons. Study something else. Eat. Go on a walk. Study yet another thing. Study study study study. He seems to enjoy it but Gods is it boring for me. Even if he’s not studying he’s doing something else boring like reading. It's just crazy to me because he doesn’t seem to ever get tired of it and nor does he take breaks. Is it because I’m here? In fact, I’m starting to think that Everett truly is a loner. He spends most time in his room to the point where he almost never sees his siblings. I haven’t been able to catch up with any of my coworkers because I’m always so isolated. Everett always wishes to eat at the strangest times.

When he eats is when I get to eat, even if that meant that dinner would have to be at 11pm. None of his siblings ever did such a thing. When I tell Everett that it’s time for dinner he just ignores me, and who am I to argue… but I do wonder what would happen if I pressed the issue. Eating late isn’t good for your body— or a human’s body. Whatever.

Day 7:

Day 6 (Cont.):

Okay this is URGENT. The most INSANE thing happened tonight… Everett actually talked to me. For the very first time ever. So lemme get started:

So, it was a usual evening. I had just finished eating and it was past midnight. I guess that means this entry is technically on day 7, but nevermind that, this still counts as day 6 to me. Anyways, it was midnight so I went to Everett’s room to make sure he was there before heading off to bed myself. The manor has a certain mystique to it at night that could either be exciting or unnerving depending on who you are. By midnight the lights are set to turn off automatically thanks to the magical lamps set up around the manor so It’s recommended that each member of the staff always keeps a mini lamp provided by the family on their bodies. Even so, the ceilings in the manor seem so high that you can only see to a certain extent. The white wainscoting stretches and extends out from the gentle light of the lamp into the pitch black and foreboding shadows of the dark ceiling. I hate the manor at night. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for me to reach Everett’s room. It’s dark, yes, but I’m more than used to the layout of the manor. The doors were shut and the lights were turned off, so I’d assumed he got back to his room before I did and went to bed. I turned on my heel towards the direction of my own quarters and made my way down the long carpeted hallway.

But then I heard something. Something like a high ringing noise… and it was coming from in front of me. Now, the stupid thing to do was to check out the sound, but unfortunately as one of the home’s employees checking it out was my job, so there I was, in the hallway with my tiny lamp, following the wispy sound bouncing off the walls. The closer I got, the more recognizable the sound was and I began to make out a tune— It was soft and melancholy. I continued to follow the melody, being drawn to it like a sailor to a siren’s song. Soon enough, I was standing outside of the ballroom. Taking a deep breath (cause this was kind of scary), I slowly cracked open the door, and low and behold… Everett was there seated at the room’s grand piano. His hair and equally blond eyelashes reflected the rays of moonlight glimmering through the floor to ceiling windows. That mixed with the light bouncing off the white grand piano painted quite the picture. He looked heavenly.

I couldn’t see his hands, but The Young Master was playing a lovely tune. I could tell how delicately Everett’s fingers moved due to the volume, for each note rang out like a tear-drop falling onto a still pond. The melody danced lightly, but there was a heaviness to it, a quiet sorrow that lingered in the spaces between the small moments of silence between each note. Everett swayed gently from the left to the right rhythmically, sending the ripples of sound across the vast ballroom and into my ears. It felt as if the piano itself had been revealing some deep seeded sorrow that it had been holding onto for years, only now letting it all spill out into the open. All I found myself doing was standing there in the doorway as Everett hadn’t looked up when I opened the tall door, for he was seemingly in the zone. I listened to the somber melody until it faded away, time passing seemingly quickly. Everett ended the song with soft and somber chords. The entire song was hauntingly beautiful.

Everett stared at the piano keys for a few moments before looking upwards. It seemed like he was about to look out the window but instead his gaze locked onto me. His eyes widened, showing more emotion on his face than I knew he was capable of. I’d seen him with a neutral expression, at most a focused one, but never this expression of pure shock.

“Shut the door,” Everett whispered. There was no need to speak too loudly, for the whisper was just loud enough to echo off the ballroom’s marble walls and into my ears.

“Please.” Everett’s voice was stern— or at least as stern as it could be whilst whispering.

Only then did I truly register what had just happened… Everett had talked. I stepped inside the large room, reached behind myself, and gingerly sealed the ballroom door shut. Before I knew it, Everett was getting up and storming across the room, his own shoes clacking against the room’s tile almost carelessly.

There it was: that familiar and gentle scent of amber and flowers, the smell of Everett’s cologne. He backed me up against the wall of the door, getting all up in my face. All I could do was look down at his pretty and delicate features. In all honesty, Everett’s not intimidating at all due to his height, facial features, and status. I mean, what could a rich boy possibly do to hurt me considering he can’t even cook for himself? If anything Everett reminded me of an angry chihuahua. More than anything, I was thrown off by the sudden invasion of personal space as the only intimidating thing about Everett was what he could do to my job, and that was enough to be effective.

“You followed me.”
I stared at him with a mix of confusion and amusement on my face. “Yes. It’s my job.”

Everett just continued to glare up at me in silence. That just made me want to laugh even more. I cleared my throat, trying to keep my amusement in check. It was so difficult not to smile. Soon enough he broke the silence once more. His upset expression melted into a more solemn one, but he was still clearly on guard, at least judging by the way his eyebrow subtly twitched. Anyone could tell he was pissed by my presence. It made sense considering how he usually acts around me. No matter how close or far I am to him, I always get a strong feeling that Everett doesn’t want me around.
“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t tell anyone… what?”

“That I’d left my room to come here. My parents would never allow it.”
I tilted my head to the side a bit confused. Would they really be that upset by their oldest son sneaking out of his room at night to do something as innocent as playing the piano?

“Your song was beautiful.”

Everett’s last layer of toughness melted away into something that I’d never seen from him before— It started from the tips of his pointy ears, his pale skin gaining a hint of red; That red creeped in further and further until his entire face was pink. I was sure I was smiling at this point. It was impossible not to! Look at how shy he was! One of his ears even twitched. I’d never been close enough to any elf to notice such a thing. I decided to press further.

“Did you write it?”

Everett averted his eyes and stepped away, nodding. Cute. He spun around and began to make his way to one of the windows. I did not dare move. I instantly regretted my smile when I got it back under control… I was likely going to be fired now. Only dead silence hung in the air, a stark contrast from the tune The Young Master had just been playing. Everett just stood there at one of the windows with his hands behind his back, looking out at the moonlit garden. I was absolutely sure I was going to be reprimanded. I just decided to look down at my shoes, as if someone were shining them. My place standing awkwardly in the corner had been reclaimed and along with it the usual awkward silence… but I knew that silence wouldn’t last long.

“I did.”

What? I looked up immediately, but Everett’s back was still facing me.

“Write it. I mean. The song I was playing,” Everett’s voice rang out. Only now could I properly hear it. For once he didn’t sound agitated. He sounded almost… normal? Everett had a soothing voice if anything, like the linens atop a bed during a cold winter night… and he didn’t reprimand me!? I just had to respond, certainly playing with fire at this point.

“I loved it. It was deeply moving, and I’m astounded that you wrote that yourself.” I kept my voice low. “You looked very immersed. I’ve never seen you look so focused.”

Everett almost seemed to jolt at the compliment. Still he continued looking out the window. “That means a lot…”

Seeing Everett— no, anyone in this family acting this way was frankly bizarre. It felt like I could breathe— like I could exist near him. Like I could actually talk to him.

For example: I’ve heard from the other butlers and maids that Everett’s younger sister once got a newly hired maid fired over something much much sillier. She had asked for tea and as expected, the maid delivered. As soon as the poor maid finished pouring the tea, The Young Mistress picked up the teacup, brought it to her lips, and burnt her tongue. Apparently the Young Mistress went off on that maid, throwing the fine china onto the floor, and even going as far as telling her parents, who then fired the maid. Ridiculous. That was before I started working here so as soon as I heard such a story, I was sure not to do anything to upset them in fear of becoming the newly hired butler who’d then been newly fired, and then forced to become the main subject of a juicy story amongst his ex-coworkers for all of eternity. I feel bad for that maid.

Who knew when an opportunity like this would come again? So I opened my mouth, forcing a question out despite the hesitation holding me back.

“So… why are you down here?”

“I’m not allowed to play.” Everett’s voice snapped, gaining back some of its usual irritation. “I’m astounded you don’t know that considering you’re supposed to be my ‘personal butler’.”

“But you’re so good...”

“It’s a waste of time. Now just go ahead and report me as soon as my parents return.”
“But—”

Everett turned away from the window and stares at the ground. His expression is angry, but it was different from any anger of his I’d ever seen before. He’s not simply scowling, his lip was quivering as well, almost as if he’s trying not to cry. What? Everett stormed towards me, clearly trying to get out of the door.

“Hey, wait.” He nearly escaped but I shuffled from left to right to keep him from opening one of the doors.

“Let me go!”

“Don’t yell!” Instinctively I covered his mouth with my gloved hand. Obviously it didn’t keep him silent for long, but when he pulled away he didn’t make a noise— either because he was willing to listen or because he was too disgusted to move… it was probably the latter. A commoner like me’s hand touching his face? How Disgusting…

“I won’t tell anyone.”

Everett’s eyes darted up. He stared at me with pure suspicion.

“Truly. I swear on it.”

That night Everett and I came to a deal: he could play the piano and I wouldn’t tell his parents. In return he’d said I’ll get paid more once his parents return. Must be nice to make financial decisions like that at the snap of a finger. Does he even have a sense of money? Anyways, my hand is cramping up and tomorrow is a big day… probably.

Day 7

Today I wanted to write more about Everett… though when am I not writing about him at this point? It’s not like I have much else to do since I’ve been relieved of my usual duties. Remember how I’d said a few days ago that he just studies all the time? Well, now that I’ve seen him do something he’s passionate about, like playing the piano, he honestly looks more depressed than focused during the day. I would’ve really loved to say something to try and cheer him up, maybe crack a few jokes or something, but after last night? Hell no! I was NOT taking that chance.

When I cleaned his desk after all of his study sessions were finished, I couldn’t help but look at what he was reading and writing. It seemed he had been studying successful businesses and what made them work so well. Only then did it hit me that he was likely the chosen heir to his parent’s company.

I’m glad that now Everett will have some time to play the piano so I don’t have to see him be so miserable all the time. I’ve noticed that his pointy ears droop when he’s sad, a clear indicator no matter how neutral he pretends to be. We haven’t returned to the ballroom since last night, but I’m assuming that Everett is planning to play tonight as well. I’ll keep the journal updated.

Day 10

For the past few days, Everett has been playing piano every night. I do think that the piano sessions are my favorite part of the day now. If the rest of the day is boring, I know that come nighttime I’ll be able to listen to Everett’s pieces. Yes that’s right, pieces. He has a whole repertoire! The one I’d first heard him play was a work in progress, only one song to join his many others.

The first couple of nights (other than the one where I found out about this hobby), I just stood in the corner of the room. Last night, I took my usual spot against the ballroom wall and was enjoying the music, mistakes and all, when I saw Everett’s gaze staring me down over the piano.

“...Could I get some feedback?”

Just like the other time he’d talked to me, my mind failed to register that he wished to talk to me, but if not me then who else. I thought he didn’t think much of me, and there’s no point in trying to prove someone like that wrong. I’ve dealt with my fair deal of privileged folk and know that their criticism doesn’t mean anything. A bit taken aback, I’d agreed. He’d told me to pull up a chair and once again, I did. Now I could see the way his fingers danced on the keys as if in their own ivory floored ballroom. His movements were fluent and flowed seamlessly into each other. It was almost like watching a professional— or er… how I imagine a professional plays.

Day 13

I’ve just returned from tonight’s piano session. While it’s very late right now and I should probably sleep, I had to write about tonight’s conversation. Tonight I asked him a question I’ve been wondering about since day one of this journal. You might be questioning it as well (I know I sure am) and it’s allowed me to understand more about the young master’s situation.

I find that I’m beginning to really enjoy his company and I think that he enjoys mine too. He’s always asking for my feedback when playing piano and now has even begun to take interest in me.

“I’ve never been on a farm before…” Everett touched his chin pondering, “You really wouldn’t mind showing me your hometown if you had the chance?”

“It’s quite the long train ride but yes,” I smiled, “Hey, might I ask you something I’ve been wondering forever?” I held my breath until Everett nodded himself. He’s also wearing a gentle smile. “Why do you need someone to watch over you like this when you seem so much happier alone?”

Immediately Everett’s smile faded away. I made things awkward, didn't I? That was exactly what I was trying to avoid! I quickly cut in.

“N-Nevermind. Don’t worry about answering.”
“No…” Everett’s attention diverted back to the piano keys and then he sighed. “It’s a reasonable question.”
My shoulders immediately relaxed. Honestly, I didn’t think he’d answer. It’s times like that where I feel silly for ever feeling afraid of him. The old entries in this journal were so silly… yep. I’m not rereading them.

“My parents insisted. They want to make sure I’m doing what I’m supposed to and not wasting my time doing things like playing the piano. It’s funny considering it’s the only hobby I really have aside from reading, but even when reading my books are almost always business related.” Everett scoffed. “My stupid sister ratted me out a few years ago when I used to secretly play during the day and it’s never been the same since.”

Each Valandor usually had at least two butlers in the room with them at all times— I think I mentioned it earlier. Having one butler was kind of comical. It’s like I’m a loyal dog following his owner around. Everett seemed to know what I was thinking and continued.

“I was able to convince my parents to let me have less butlers than usual. I’d rather have none at all but this was the compromise… so I chose you to be my…” Everett stopped talking as if he’d said something forbidden… but I’m kind of happy he did. He chose me?

I repeated my thoughts out loud. “You… chose me?”

Everett sighed and then nodded. While he was looking away, I could see his ears which had now flushed to that pink I’ve grown to know.

Honestly, Everett choosing me definitely explains some things. I had always been a bit puzzled why I was chosen to watch over Everett. I certainly wasn’t the most experienced and even more so I’ve barely interacted with the young master, aside from the occasional pass in the hallway. The question then was why did Everett choose me in particular?

“You were able to choose who you wanted to watch over you and you chose me? Why?”

Everett turned his head even further away from me so that I was basically talking to the back. “...I wanted someone who wouldn’t be too overbearing. Originally my parents wanted the majordomo to supervise me.”

The majordomo? He’s an older man who’s been a butler for like, 40 years. They were that serious?

“But I insisted on choosing. And I chose you… you just…” Everett muttered something under his breath. Him facing away from me didn’t help me hear whatever he said.

“I just what?” I leaned forwards hoping that maybe I could get a glance at his face (it was totally not to see how red he was), but no cigar. Everett still decided to mutter what he’d said but now just loud enough so I could hear it.

“You look friendly… and like you wouldn't do a good job…”

“...”

“...”

“...but you’re doing too good of a job…”

“Pfft–” I covered my mouth to keep myself from laughing. Only then did Everett turn his head to face me again, and boy did he look angry. His face only made me laugh more.

“Don’t laugh!” Everett protested.
“Sorry– sorry!” I decided to tease him a bit— something that’s beginning to become one of my favorite pastimes. “Apologies for being such a good employee.”

“But you erm… you have the face of a dog…” Before I could say anything he continued, turning his face away again. I think he knew that I’d find that insulting. “In a good way… you’re like a golden retriever… and now I know your personality matches that too…”

Then it was my turn for my face to flush red. I guess me comparing myself to a loyal dog wasn’t too far off. I’m glad that Everett was too embarrassed himself to look in my direction. He was probably blushing too…

Day 14

Everett and I have begun talking regularly, even during the day. He’s quite snappy and stubborn, but deep down I think he means well. It’s pretty obvious that he’s never really had any friends before— at least not to this extent. Today we went for a walk in the garden and had quite a meaningful conversation. I finally decided to ask him about the company after a week of going back and forth over whether I should or not.

“I can’t.” Everett and I were sitting down under one of the garden’s willow trees. It’s begun to get hotter outside so the shade was a nice reprieve from our stuffy clothing. Suits were certainly not made for this kind of weather and while Everett could remove his jacket, my uniform was my uniform, tailcoat and all.

“But I can tell that you don’t like that kind of stuff. You don’t want the company, do you?”

Everett averted his eyes, tapping his fingernails rhythmically against the hardcover book on his lap. “That’s out of line.” His scolding certainly didn’t sound like scolding due to the nervous tone in his voice.

“If it were out of line you would’ve stopped me as soon as I asked about it.”

Everett stopped tapping his fingernails, instead choosing to hold the book with his two hands. “It’s just not an option…”

“Why is it not an option?”

Everett has all the money in the world. I can only imagine how many things I could do with that money. My parents wouldn’t have to live in that old house anymore. They could live somewhere that’s not falling apart… and I could repay my parents for all they’ve done for me tenfold. They’d never have to work another day in their lives and could live the rest of their lives in leisure. I wouldn’t have to worry anymore about my dad blowing out his back from lifting too many milk-filled crates. They could come to the city with me. Everett’s voice pulls me out of my daydreaming.

“Because—”

“Will your parents cut you off?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Then you should try to become a pianist. I can imagine you finding joy in such a thing. Your days wouldn’t be so boring and you could play as much as you wanted.”

Everett’s grip on the book tightened, causing his knuckles to turn white. “It’s unrealistic.”

Unrealistic? “How? How’s that unrealistic?”

“There are expectations for me. I can’t just abandon everything my family’s dedicated hundreds and hundreds of years to. It’s just not realistic. It’s a waste of time.”

I looked towards the elven statue across the garden’s pathway. It’s dressed in robes and has long and flowy hair; very impressive for a sculpture. On its head, there rests a traditional elven crown— one that’s only now worn for special events such as weddings. I’ve seen this statue time and time again but only then did I take a good look at it. It’s ironic. Elves are traditional people, I know that… but traditionally they’re known to be craftsmen, creators of all kinds of arts. Even the magical lamps could be considered as such. I redirected my attention to Everett.

“Is that what your parents say…?”

The young master only nodded solemnly in response. “I mean, Surely you can understand! I mean, your parents gave up everything to get you here… I know you don’t particularly like being a butler but you do it anyway… Why can’t I just be competent like you?”

“The difference between you and I is that work isn’t my entire life. I love going outside on walks in the woods, visiting new restaurants I’ve never been to before, talking to my coworkers and even strangers in town… my parents also never forced me to do such a thing— just pushed me in the right direction. I didn’t want to spend my life tending to a farm like them…” I smiled at the statue I had been observing. “So they did everything they could to get me here. I don’t love it, sure, but I’m happy.” Finally I turned my head to look at the young master, a goofy smile still on my face (that's definitely how Everett would describe it). “Life isn’t all bad. If I didn’t try to do something differently from what my parents wished, I’d still be in that little village feeling trapped. I wouldn’t have come here and gotten such an interesting job. I wouldn’t have met you.”

“...”
Everett stared at me in awe. Only then did I realize how much I’d actually said. I began to feel a bit silly, my face heating up again. It’s a bit awkward with the way he’s staring at me. Sometimes Everett could be intimidatingly pretty and that was one of those times. Soon enough, Everett’s puzzled expression melted into a gentle smile and he returned to looking down at the book on his lap.

“Thank you. I think… I think you’re remarkable…”

After that discussion, Everett agreed to come to town with me tomorrow. I can show him what life is like outside of his mansion, outside of that seemingly perfect estate. I want him to see my life… and he wants to see it too. For now I shall leave it here. Look forward to tomorrow’s entry, just like I’m looking forward to it.