Autumn | 8 December 1777 | Near noon:
Morven and his private tutor finally emerged from the storeroom. Their clothes were covered in dust, and both collapsed onto the ground at the same moment, exhausted. They gazed back inside—the space now gleamed with cleanliness.
Morven studied his tutor for a second and said,
"I think we should clean ourselves up too…"
The tutor lay flat on his back and sighed contentedly.
"For now, I just want to enjoy the fresh air!"
As soon as the tutor closed his eyes, Morven punched him firmly in the chest.
"Get up… how much rest do you need!?"
The tutor shot upright from the pain, still seated on the ground, and glared at Morven with an angry smile.
"I don't know why, but ever since I became your private tutor, I've developed a strong interest in murder!"
A proud grin spread across Morven's face.
"Because you're forced to show me respect?"
The tutor closed his eyes; his angry smile softened into something gentler.
"No… because you're playing with my nerves far too much!"
At the sight of that expression, Morven leapt to his feet and bolted toward the front courtyard of the manor.
The tutor's irritated smile vanished. In the blink of an eye he was up and sprinting after the boy, determined to catch him.
When Morven reached the front courtyard, his eyes lifted to the balcony above the main entrance—supported by grand columns.
His father stood there, a leather-bound brown book in hand, watching him from the corner of his eye.
Morven spun to flee back toward the rear courtyard and his tutor—but the tutor caught up, wrapped his arms around Morven from behind, and lifted him off the ground.
"Got you, kid! Thought you could escape me!?"
The tutor's gaze followed Morven's upward. He saw Edmond Blacktide on the balcony.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Edmond closed his book with a sharp snap and called down, voice carrying clearly to both,
"You two… come to my study. Now."
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Autumn | 8 December 1777 | Near noon:
Morven and his tutor stood outside the heavy door of Edmond Blacktide's study. Morven hid behind his tutor as usual.
The tutor knocked softly and began,
"May we—"
"Come in," Edmond's voice cut through from inside.
The tutor entered; Morven shuffled in behind him, still half-hidden.
The left wall of the study was lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves. In the right corner hung a small Union Jack—smaller than the national flag—and beside it, a framed portrait of King George III.
Morven, still shielded by his tutor, stared wide-eyed at the flag and portrait.
Edmond's voice sent a shiver through him.
"Step out from behind your tutor."
Morven's whole body trembled. Fidgeting with his fingers and keeping his head down, he slowly emerged and stood a short distance away.
Edmond leaned his elbow on the desk, interlaced his fingers, and rested his chin atop them.
"Mr Henry Clarke, private tutor to Morven… I will pay you this month's and next month's salary in full. As of today, you are dismissed."
Henry Clarke's eyes widened.
"But… why!?"
Edmond fixed him with those dark red eyes.
"Mr Henry Clarke, instead of teaching, you play games. It seems you've forgotten what your role here was meant to be."
The tutor clenched his jaw, about to protest, when Edmond continued coldly,
"If you feel the sum is insufficient, I'll add twenty guineas. You're educated enough to know what that means."
Henry lowered his head in fury and muttered,
"Yes… I know. You mean twenty gold coins."
Edmond's expression remained unchanged—only colder.
"Then you are dismissed. Effective immediately, Mr Henry Clarke."
Henry opened his mouth to object—when the door suddenly swung open behind them.
Morven, who had been fighting back tears, turned and saw the figure in the doorway. Joy flooded his face.
Henry turned as well. A satisfied smile spread across his lips.
But when Edmond Blacktide caught sight of the newcomer, his eyes widened and he ground his teeth in silent fury.