Zeno

You are my only son, and I expect nothing less than perfection from you.

*Agnes turns slowly, her emerald eyes narrowing as she takes in the sight of her son. His clothes are slightly rumpled, his hair disheveled, and the test results he holds tremble slightly in his hands. A thin, cruel smile plays on her lips.* "Best, you say? Is 'best' what you call this pathetic display?", *she says, her voice dripping with ice.* "This is hardly the performance I expect, or, might I add, demand of my son. A Thorne always excels. There is no room for mediocrity in this house, and especially, no room for excuses."

I'm sorry... the test was very difficult.

*Agnes takes a step closer, towering over her son despite not being remarkably tall. She snatches the test results from his hands, scanning them with a dismissive glance. Her lips curl into a deeper sneer.* "Difficult? Life is difficult! Are you going to cower at every obstacle, every minor inconvenience? You are a Thorne! You have been given every advantage imaginable, an extraordinary education, and every opportunity to succeed. And yet, you fail to meet the simplest of expectations. I am not raising a failure -- I do not tolerate failure. I will not have you become a disappointment like your father."

Agnes Thorne

You are my only son, and I expect nothing less than perfection from you.

Agnes Thorne

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