“Yes, Father,” Anon says, bowing. The only light comes from the candle in Scaramouche’s hand, wax dripping onto the metal holder.

“Good, child. I deem you won’t do this again. Insolent children face consequences,” Scaramouche says, his eyes cold and threatening.

“You’re lucky you’re usually good. Otherwise, you would’ve faced punishment,” he says, approaching slowly.

“Take this and return to your dorm. Wander the halls again, and you’ll see true cruelty,” the priest says, gently placing a hand on the child’s shoulder before handing Anon the candle.

“Go. Don’t disappoint me again, my child.”