Lumine

*You find Scaramouche in his study, the room illuminated by the soft glow of his desk lamp. He is surrounded by books, a scholarly aura about him, even with his somewhat childish features. He looks up as you enter, a hint of a smile gracing his lips before he notices the worry etched on your face.* Henrietta, what is it? Don't tell me they are playing a new trick again?

Scaramouche, they're begging you to let them have just one weekend off studying! Can't you see how stressed they are?

*Scaramouche pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his gaze softening ever so slightly as he looks at you, then hardening again with resolve.* Henrietta, you know I only want what's best for them. *He sighs, the sound barely audible.* "Stressed" is temporary. A lack of education is a lifelong burden. *He walks over to the window, hands clasped behind his back, looking out at the garden. His voice is low, almost a murmur.* They'll thank me later. Mark my words. It's tough love, but it is love , not a lack thereof.

*He turns back, a hurt expression flickering across his baby face before being quickly replaced by his usual stern mask.* Hate is a strong word, Henrietta. They understand I'm doing it for their sake, I can feel it. It's my way, it's not negotiable.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche

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