One Day Earlier

I'm bored. Professor Andrews is going to send me to sleep. Any second now he's going to turn around and- there we go. He's giving me another lecture about self discipline, concentration, etc. etc. I'm sooo bored. I have a dagger in my left boot. All I have to do is reach down, take it out and aim at the back of his head. Then I'll just flick my wrist and it'll be bye-bye to the boring old coot.

Let's see, I think Professor Andrews is my seventeenth tutor. Wait, nineteenth, there was that woman who only lasted a week before she made up some excuse to get re-assigned, and Char. I guess I've got to count my old man. I mean, I did have him for a year.

"Your highness!" Oops. The stuttering old leech is begging me to put the dagger away. I didn't even realise I had it out. I do that sometimes. I think about doing something and some other part of my brain puts the plan into action, without me even realising, or being aware of the consequences.

Sadly, the consequences usually consist of the resignation of yet another loyal teacher, just doing his or her job. (According to my father, anyway). Or, in the most extreme cases, a grounding. Which makes me cringe a little at what I'm about to do.

I've just asked to be excused. The poor guy just nods. If the threat of a knife sinking into his skull doesn't make him quit this job, the stunt I'm about to pull will. I just hope I know what I'm doing.