"Take your time, Mistress...but don't press too hard."

"I'm trying..."

It has been about 3 weeks since Eliza was adopted, it was more than she expected, enjoyable even, she got along with everyone...mostly. Mr. Mortem had been teaching her to write when he could, which was every other day, and Abraham was there to help when he couldn't. When she was too anxious to stay in one place, even for her own studies which she enjoyed, she was often seen wandering the halls by herself, often finding herself back at the starting point, or engaging in either Uncle Fames' or Uncle Morbus' studies, with her father or Abraham close behind of course.

"Is this well enough?"

"Very nice Eliza, you're improving." Mr. Mortem praised with a smile.

In addition to reading and writing, the other fathers have been teaching their sons about their professions and what they entailed. Uncle Morbus was a scientist with advanced knowledge of anatomy, a 'bio-chemical surgeon' as he often calls himself, he taught Lincoln that of diseases, how the body works and how easily it's functioning may cease. He had many books about their origin and how they affected the body, both children were fascinated but the pictures were a bit disturbing to her, and the long words trumped them both. When she wasn't with them she was observing Uncle Fames and Chester's studies. Fames was teaching him about food...? Apparently, Fames was the cook here, though she never saw him actually cook, only him eating, which was almost every time he saw him, and never let Chester out of the fun either. If he could help it. Even though he always ate he never seemed to gain a pound, Chester was showing but not him, he says it's his metabolism, whatever that meant.

She was yet to see Mr. Bellum and Jebediah in their studies, if the young ruffian was even being taught, she often questioned the man's tactics. Every time she saw him, which was in the dead hours of the night or the wee hours of the morning, he was adorned with a new cut or bruise on his body, a cast in its rarity, limping away to the confines of his room on the other side of the mansion, Mr. Bellum close behind. And every time she saw them in those times Jebediah would scowl at her as hard as his injury-littered face would allow, still getting angry at her for getting him in trouble at the orphanage as she overheard him explain, but his scowl couldn't compare to that of Mr. Bellum's. No. His was much worse, like col fire burning up your insides with the force of a typhoon. She didn't know why he stared at her like that, not exactly, but she guessed the reason was that he had to save her from Jebediah that day, not being strong enough to defend herself, and the like. For that she could never really look him in the eyes, they always showed hatred and disappoint to her that made her feel less of herself even more.

"I'll say. Eliza, your handwriting is getting better." Abraham praised.

"...it's not that good..."

"But it is!"

"How about we take a break, yes?" Her father suggested, they both nodded.

Eliza rubbed her wrist, the bandage had been taken off a few days after the lessons started but the now recent activity was making it sore. Abraham took the papers she as writing on and continued to praise her writing, overenthusiastically she might add, her father just laughed softly. Eliza noticed though, that in the 3 weeks Mr. Mortem had not told or even mentioned anything about his occupation while the boys have already engaged in their professions. She could only assume that Jebediah knows as well, so why hasn't she?

"Father?" He hummed in question, "why...why haven't you told me your job yet?"

Both him and Abraham froze for a moment, glancing at each other before the master cleared his throat.

"I have other matters to discuss with you before I explain that, very meaningful, I assure you." He smiled bitterly, as faint as it was. Eliza tilted her head to the side.

"He's very touchy on the subject," Abraham whispered to her.

"I heard that."

"But it's true!"

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No."

"Yes."

They continued to bicker for a while.

Eliza started to smile a little at their behaviour. It was amusing seeing their behaviour. She had already realised that Abraham was more laid back than his status projected, relaxed even, and he was always so friendly. However, although her father was friendly as well he wasn't as carefree as him, his manner was polite, defined, classy, well-kept, like a gentleman, but somehow Abraham always managed to loosen that stiff stature of his, especially around Eliza. They both were a bit uncomfortable at first, she thought it was her fault, but he was their saving grace.

"Are you hungry, Eliza?" Her father questioned suddenly, drawing his attention from the childish man who made faces behind him. Eliza nodded, the soft and almost unnoticeable smile still there.

They had lunch for an hour before her lessons restarted, Abraham was still giving pointers on how fluid her writing should be while Mr. Mortem watched from afar.