The next day, Westan watched his tutors with irritation. His last teacher, a Mr. Rupert, had not been able to go more than two weeks before the nervous breakdown came. True, he chose not to dismiss these men out of respect for Zaccheus, but he had no problem scaring them to the point of running away. In fact, he took pride in frightening such simpletons, it was even fun sometimes. However, he was not so sure how easy this new pair of men would be. While Mr. Jameson was easily put on edge and anxious, his son was proving to be very much the opposite. He never seemed to panic or act rashly, and instead kept his calm while working through the daily intimidation. That in turn would strengthen his father, who somehow managed to get on with the lessons each day.

Westan frowned, getting more and more aggravated as the fruitless day progressed. He didn’t know what to do, but he had to try something, and soon. Else freedom would become impossible!

"Assistant!" Westan called out.

The boy immediately looked up from his task and bowed with a smile. "Yes your Majesty?"

“Your skills displayed today truly seem to be lacking. Do you mean to insult me?"

Bartholomew blushed and looked down at the ground nervously. "I apologize sire. I shall try to perform better."

Westan scowled. Why did he always act so humble!?

"How dare you?! Do you think this is a joke?!” He snapped, running out of things to accuse him of.

The boy shook his head with embarrassment and quickly bowed a bit lower.

“Forgive me sire! I do not have any experience with a man of your majesty and caliber, so I am understandably ignorant of the respect you deserve! Please, overlook my insolence and allow me to continue!” He begged with an odd amount of dignity.

Westan pouted. How was one even to respond to that?

"Will you just hurry up? I want to get this over with as soon as possible!" He shouted, hoping to at least startle him.

To his satisfaction both men jumped with surprise at his raised voice and quickly got back to work. Mr. Jameson continued to keep nervously teaching, while Bartholomew continued to be as cheery as ever, though he had been embarrassed and scolded just moments ago.

Just what was with this boy? Was there no upsetting him!? Didn’t he get angry, upset, or scared? How is it he could manage to smile even in a situation like this!? He was nothing more than a shameless pretender like all the rest! One Westan no longer wished to keep the company of.

"Assistant!" He called out again.

The boy turned to him with a happy bow.

“Yes, my Lord?"

"How dare you act this way in my presence! I am insulted, offended even!”

Bartholomew looked up with alarm and confusion. "W-What have I done to upset you?"

"I find everything about your manners insulting! The way you smile and laugh, as if these lessons are of little seriousness!" Westan stated.

The boy stared down at his feet with embarrassment. "I-I apologize sire. I meant no-"

"Be silent!" He shouted, standing up from his seat.

Both teachers froze completely and watched him with fearful eyes.

"You are permanently dismissed from my presence, I do not wish to see your face ever again! One teacher is enough for me, I do need a lowly assistant such as yourself during my lessons! How can I ever hope to concentrate with the likes of you around!?"

Mr. Jameson's eyes bulged, and for a moment his son looked to be in a state of shock. Yet neither dared protest as the one of the guards came and grabbed Bartholomew by the arm, roughly showing him out the door.

Westan smiled triumphantly. Finally! True, he could not send his teacher away, but surely Zaccheus could not scold him for dismissing the assistant! Now all he had left to do was break the boy’s father. So he turned to Mr. Jameson with a frown, who in turn met his stare with horror.

"Hurry up and get this study over with, old man!"