The Head Butler, seated with rigid posture near the bed, was lost in the intricate web of his own thoughts, a tangled mix of bitterness and self-righteousness. His mind wandered as he pictured himself in Ashok's place, convinced he could have handled the situation far better.
'If it had been me,' the Head Butler thought with swelling pride, 'I would have blackmailed the witch into extracting the entity's soul from the Young Miss. If she could implant it, surely she had the means to take it out as well.'
The simplicity of his imagined solution played like a triumphant melody in his mind. To him, Ashok's methods were unnecessarily convoluted, a transparent ploy to drain the Duke of his wealth and resources over an extended period.
To him, Ashok's methods were overcomplicated, intentionally designed to exploit the Duke's wealth and resources over time.
