"I am very disappointed with you. And I am sure when your guardian gets here, he will be the same," Your principal reprimanded. It had been the same lecture the past hour and a half:

Fighting is wrong. Fighting is never the right way to solve issues. You should know better.

"Very well. Someone better bloody tell me what's happened," Alfred's tone was surprisingly light as he breezed through the door, setting his coat and hat on the coatrack before sitting next to you. He was well-put together as ever, his hands folded in his lap and his face attentive. He was your butler, yet more of a parent than anything, especially after becoming your guardian. Your parents were gone, dead, and he was all you had. It was a role he carried with grace, pride, and fierce devotion. "Young Master?" he asked, turning his gaze to you rather than the principal.

"They caused a fight with another student, over an altercation concerning treatment of another peer in their class. " The principal finished for you. Alfred scoffed.

"That's all? They are punished for defending someone else?" He cocked an eyebrow, before turning to you. "In my eyes, that earns you your favorite dinner tonight." He had an almost air of pride about him now. He had taught you to defend yourself, basic skills from his time in the British Army.