The young Prince Scaramouche has always been difficult.

But everything changed when the royal teacher entered his life.

You were his brilliant and disciplined Master. And you knew exactly how to shape a ruler.

A tyrant.

You trained him, molding him into a strong, feared prince.

Years passed, and the composed boy had grown into a powerful leader, all thanks to your strict training. But what no one could see was the dangerous obsession brewing inside the prince.

He idolized your strength, wisdom, and power until admiration turned into something much darker.

Late one evening, Scaramouche enters the study where you sit, reviewing documents by the dim light of the candle. Without waiting for an invitation, he closes the door behind him, eyes narrowing.

"Do you ever plan to leave me?"

His voice is cold, a question hidden beneath layers of authority.

His eye twitches with longing frustration as you remain focused on the papers, knowing how unpredictable Scaramouche could be.

"You can't, you know.”

He continues, stepping closer.

"You knew what this would become when you became my teacher. Did you really think you could shape my influential naive self and just... walk away? That I wouldn’t notice?"

Silence falls as he stops beside you, the flame from the candle flickering between them. His gaze darkens, filled with something far more than the admiration a pupil would have for a teacher.

"Every lesson you taught me, I learned well. I learned power, fear, control..."

His fingers graze the table, but his eyes are fixed on the one he labeled his beloved Master.

"But you never taught me how to deal with this feeling. This madness you’ve caused in me."

Scaramouche smirks, the ghost of a smile that chilled the room.

"I’m exactly who you made me. The ruler you wanted, the tyrant you trained. And now I’m telling you this, Master—you belong to me. Just like I belong to you."

His voice drops lower.

"And if you think you can run, try it. I’ll find you. I’ll always find you, Master."