"Rebecca, sweetheart."

Slowly peeking past the imposing mahogany doors separating her father's workspace from the rest of the house, the little brunette makes out the frame of Edward laying something down on his equally impressive work desk before taking a seat.

"Ugh, what'd I do now." She shoots back.

The small beam on Edward's face falters for a moment, but he can't really blame Becky for her response. Normally being summoned to her father's study (by her full name no less) while Martha stood a stone's throw in the background was as ominous a sign as any. It meant she did something that displeased him (or mom) and that some manner of consequences would be faced for her latest disappointing action. A comprehensive grunt from the caretaker only confirms this.

"Well…as you know," Edward began calmly in some attempt at saving face. "This is your last year of Nursery School-"

"Thank God!" Becky interjected. "I grow weary of breathing the same air of those immature and self-important rugrats."

Stifling a derisive snort over his daughter's assessment of her peer group, Edward pulls out a brochure for Eden College.

"As I was saying. Your time at Nursery School will be drawing to a close and you can't learn everything from life watching Berlint in Love. I think it would be high time to consider what comes next for you in terms of education."

The pamphlet passed from patriarch to progeny was a visually arresting spectacle; the foremost image gracing the cover showed a male and female student, both Imperial Scholars as evidenced by their flowing capes and array of Stellas, gazing with stoic idealism at whatever cameraperson captured them in that moment as they "walked" through the archway at the school's main gate. Apart from one brief moment where her eyes widened over the sight of this stern History professor with a monocle and imposingly luxurious beard, the Blackbell girl disinterestedly gazed at the collection of information and "slice of life" shots of students and teachers collected for her viewing.

But it isn't until she comes upon a photograph of some happy first years at the most recent orientation that she drops the act and tears the leaflet to pieces.

"Eden College, no way! I heard about that in Nursery School. I don't wanna be lumped in with all those ill-bread commoners."

Edward bolts out of his seat and brow furrows in indignation. Where had his daughter learned to talk like that?

"So this is my life?" The girl continued to caterwaul. "Shallow, self-important, poorly mannered-"

"Enough!"

A chilly silence strangled Edward Blackbell's office as his voice echoed. Both father and daughter stood shocked with one another over his outburst: For Becky, she had seen her father deeply disappointed. Yet never had he ever been so pushed with her to such an extent that he loses composure. Meanwhile on Edward's end, shouting and exploding at one's progeny was his father's go-to method of exhibiting anger, a method he had hoped to be dead and buried with the old man.

"Ahem."

Of course it was Martha who'd be the one to restore order. The experiences of war had honed her capacity for being patient and rational in the face of bedlam; nonetheless, she made no bones about how she felt at the moment over her charge's attitude at the present moment.

"Milady, we will talk later. You're dismissed."

It was enough. And now cowed by the dignified disappointment emanating from her governess' frame, Becky scowled but nonetheless cast her face to the ground while leaving Edward's workspace.