[Alfred's POV]
Sweeping the shattered fragments of glass scattered across the floor, the old butler guided the broom quietly, gathering the jagged fragments into a neat pile.
It was the broken pieces of a porcelain teacup which remained where they had fallen upon the polished wood. Its pale golden tea spread across the floorboards in a thin puddle.
Lowering himself slightly, the old man picked up another shard.
His visage remained impassive.
"Hmm. A minor miscalculation on my part. It appears I was somewhat too generous with the dosage."
Then, he smiled slightly.
"I am very sorry about it, Young Master Julian. Though, the desired result was achieved nonetheless."
He paused briefly before continuing to look at the white-haired young man who was lying unconscious on the floor beside him.
Julian Rozenberg.
After cleaning the last traces of the mess, he carefully lifted Julian into his arms and carried him to the nearby sofa.
