Could it be too early?

The tutoring session was set for the afternoon, though no specific time was mentioned. Morwenna figured since it was already 1 PM, it should count as afternoon. So, she knocked on the door.

The butler, who always seemed to force a smile, answered.

Upon seeing Morwenna, a flicker of genuine joy crossed the butler's face. "Ms. Winslet, you're here! Please, come in."

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Morwenna apologized, "I hope I'm not too early."

"Not at all, not at all. It's perfectly fine."

Why would it be too early? Just yesterday, Claude had inquired about his tutor.

It was the first time he had shown willingness to interact with outsiders. The butler had been astounded.

Had he known Claude would be so receptive, he might have scrapped the weekend breaks in the contract.

Another day without his tutor, Claude would've torn the house down.

Morwenna was puzzled by the butler's enthusiasm but didn't dwell on it.

She was led to the same room as before.

Entering with caution, Morwenna was ready for anything. If the troubled youth tried anything, she was prepared to dodge. But opening the door this time, all was calm.

In the dimly lit room, Claude sat by the window, with the curtains barely open, peeking through the sliver at the outside world. He looked like a prisoner in a cage, gazing at the sky.

Morwenna couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy, understanding why the boy was so withdrawn.

Likely due to his albinism, he had faced too much scrutiny and discrimination.

Hearing the door, Claude turned, his pale gray eyes meeting Morwenna's, as if she were part of the outside world he observed.

Seeing her gaze, he didn't lash out or become aggressive.

Morwenna spoke earnestly, "If you want to avoid being restrained, keep calm. You won't be able to overpower me."

Claude remained silent.

Morwenna stayed on guard, yet noticed that today the boy showed no intent of harm.

Claude moved to the desk, his eyes still on Morwenna. "Aren't you here to get paid? Why haven't you started teaching?"

Snapping back to reality, Morwenna replied, "Oh yes, right away."

She guessed the boy was in a better mood today.

With no trouble from him, Morwenna felt relieved, and her tone during the lesson was notably lighter.

A few minutes into the lesson, someone knocked and brought in a platter of fruit and pastries.

The person kept their head down, not daring to meet Claude's gaze.

Even so, Claude seemed slightly agitated.

That's when he noticed Morwenna eyeing the pastries, looking absolutely famished.

Morwenna was indeed starving. She had only had breakfast and, caught up in her morning's tasks, had skipped lunch.

She had planned to eat after the two-hour tutoring session, but with the food right in front of her, her hunger intensified.

Claude, who usually had no appetite, took a pastry and chewed slowly on it, clearly satisfied to see his tutor holding back her drool.

It was as if he had discovered something intriguing.

Morwenna, distracted, continued, "So, the famous-"

Her stomach growled loudly, overpowering her words.

Her face flushing with embarrassment, she was mortified at the sound.

Just then, a plate of pastries was pushed in front of her.

"Ms. Winslet, would you like some pastries?"

"May I?"

Claude nodded. Everyone treated him like a monster, a source of contamination; no one would come close or share his food. Unable to resist, Morwenna reached for the pastries.

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