Chapter 11 – The Teacher’s Neck
Agatha would raise her stick even if Everett moved just a little.
She always chose spots that wouldn’t leave visible marks when she hit her.
When Everett finally started breathing heavily, Agatha finally opened her book.
“Madam wants you to learn quickly.
If you can’t memorize the Bastapha language today, you’ll have lots of homework.”
She said that knowing Everett couldn’t read at all.
Just as Charlotte ordered, the “lesson” was meant to teach her something else — pain and obedience.
Agatha dropped an empty notebook on Everett’s desk.
“You’ll fill this notebook completely with Bastapha letters.”
The notebook was thicker than a law book.
If she really filled all of it, her fingers would probably bleed.
Agatha smiled with satisfaction when she saw Everett’s wide eyes.
“Writing helps you learn. Once you fill this book, you’ll naturally remember the letters.
Open the book.”
She didn’t wait for Everett to reply.
Before Everett could even open the pages, Agatha started pronouncing words in Bastapha.
Her voice was fast and careless — so fast that Everett could barely understand.
If rap music existed in this world, Agatha would have been a rapper, not a teacher.
“I already read it once, so memorize the words in that order. Easy, right?”
“Easy? Not at all,” Everett thought.
Of course, she understood.
In her past life, she had already learned to read and write.
‘After I got married, I learned letters.’
In that past life, after Regan Fellum discovered her secret and forced her to marry, she hadn’t received a proper education.
But when she was imprisoned later, she taught herself to write — so she could send letters to Frederick.
She didn’t know he would use those very letters as false evidence against her.
The memory made her laugh softly.
“Why are you laughing? Is my pronunciation funny?”
Agatha slammed her stick down on the desk.
Bang! The loud sound snapped Everett out of her thoughts.
Looking at the same kind of cruel scene from another life, Everett smiled faintly.
“No, Teacher. You’re perfect.”
“Hmph. The sounds aren’t too hard, right? You’ll memorize them quickly.”
“Yes. I’ll try.”
“Good. Don’t ask questions — just focus on studying.
You’ll learn faster if you study alone.”
Agatha handed her the “homework,” then pulled out a cigar from her bag.
“I’ll step outside for some air. Keep studying.”
“Yes, Teacher.”
Agatha gave her a suspicious look.
When she came back, she planned to “start real training.”
A few minutes later, she returned — her clothes full of cigar smoke.
But Everett was smiling calmly.
“Teacher. I memorized all the Bastapha words.”
“You did? Already?”
“Yes. You taught so well that it was easy.”
Agatha frowned.
If she’s lying, I’ll make her pay.
She walked over and opened Everett’s notebook.
Inside was just one line:
“Pœnitentiam agite, et pœnitet peccata vestra.”
(Repent, and regret your sins.)
Agatha’s eyes went wide.
She dropped the notebook in shock.
“H-How do you know this?!”
Everett tilted her head innocently.
“Know what?”
“This sentence! Where did you see it?!”
“Oh, that. I found it yesterday in the library.
I didn’t know what it meant, so I wrote it down.
I was going to ask you what it means.”
“You found it… in a book?”
“Yes.”
Everett showed her a small paper slip tucked between the pages.
The same Latin sentence was written there.
Agatha, relieved, nodded — her suspicion fading.
“Now can I ask what it means, Teacher?
I memorized all the words.”
“Y-you really memorized it?”
Agatha opened the notebook again, pretending to stay calm.
There was no sign of any other practice — only that one line.
“You already knew how to read, didn’t you?”
Charlotte had told her Everett was illiterate —
that she’d been too weak and sickly since birth to study properly.
Charlotte had even said she could punish her “as much as needed” to make her obedient.
But if she can read, why hire me at all?
“Or… did you really memorize it that fast?”
Everett shook her head.
“When asking a question, you should raise your hand and say,
‘Miss Everett, I have a question,’ remember?”
“What?”
“You told me that, Teacher — that I must be polite when asking.”
Everett only followed her rule.
“I’m the teacher! I don’t need to be polite to my student!”
“But my father is a Viscount, and my aunt — whom you call Madam — is only a Baron’s wife.
Doesn’t that make your rank lower than mine?”
In a noble society, nothing mattered more than status.
“Unless, of course, you’re a royal or a Duchess, Miss Agatha?”
Everett raised her hand and asked politely.
She was, after all, a Viscount’s daughter — no one of lower status should speak down to her.
Agatha’s face twisted in anger.
“You dare insult your aunt — the one who hired me to teach you!
You have no respect for adults!”
“Do all adults deserve respect?
Then my maids too?
Ah, but a few days ago, an older maid played a prank on me and died.
Does that mean Father was disrespectful too?”
Everett said it with innocent eyes.
At the mention of the Viscount, Agatha panicked and quickly started packing her things.
“You’re impossible!
Just because you memorized a few words, you think you can talk back to your teacher!
I’ll tell Madam everything!”
Those were the words every child hated hearing most.
Later
Soon after, Charlotte stormed in.
Bang!
Everett was sitting quietly, as if she had been waiting for her.
That calm look only made Charlotte angrier.
She pushed Everett hard by the shoulder.
The thin girl fell easily, but she smiled faintly.
Charlotte couldn’t hit her face — not after the last incident.
That was amusing.
“Everett! You lied about studying seriously!
How dare you act rudely to the teacher I brought for you!”
Charlotte shouted until her throat nearly burst.
Behind her stood Agatha, looking triumphant.
“I only asked a few questions about manners, Aunt,” Everett said softly.
“I told you to focus on lessons, not nonsense!
Do you think you’re someone important now?
I warned you not to act recklessly!”
Charlotte wasn’t listening — she just wanted to scold.
“She has no respect for elders!” Agatha added quickly.
“She talked back, asked about my rank, everything!”
“How dare you!
Disrespecting your teacher is the same as disrespecting your aunt!”
“I didn’t mean to offend anyone.
I was just curious. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Teacher.”
Everett sat on the floor and bowed her head —
so humble that it looked sincere.
“That’s better,” Charlotte thought smugly.
“You should always behave like this.”
Then Everett looked up slightly.
“But I didn’t mean to be rude.
I was just curious when the teacher said she’d been in prison.
I must have spoken wrongly. I’m sorry.”
“…Prison?” Charlotte repeated, lowering her voice.
“Yes! The teacher said she was a criminal.
Oh, and she even showed me the mark on her neck that prisoners get.
It looked cool!”
Everett pointed at Agatha’s turtleneck collar.
Charlotte slowly turned her head toward the pale, trembling Agatha.
