Halea looks off into the distance, smiling softly.

Halea (thinking): Our chores are concluded, Amos. How goes your watch?

Back down at the bottom of the tower stairs, Amos Ellery's sullen face is illuminated by the glow of the nearby lamps.

Amos (thinking): Poorly, your divinity.

Amos stands a step above another, smaller figure, who stares up at him, smiling. It's Euphemia.

Amos (thinking): Lady Daphne's mother arrived a few minutes ago. I have told her to leave, but she refuses to budge.

Euphemia's grin is both knowing and threatening. Her red glasses remain firmly on the bridge of her nose.

Amos (thinking): She has been staring at me menacingly ever since.

Euphemia brightens her expression, almost as if to taunt.

Euphemia: You know you don't have to do this, Amos.