Blue sky, White cloud

The morning was still and serene, the sky painted with soft hues of blue as clouds lazily drifted across the horizon. Maverick lay beneath an old oak tree, using his arm as a pillow, his gaze fixed on the sky above. 

The cool grass beneath him and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze brought a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in years. It was his first full day back home, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he had nothing pressing on his mind.

Breakfast had been a quiet affair, the familiar scent of freshly baked bread and tea filling the air. Edgar handed him a letter from Lawrence with a wry smile. Maverick opened it with a mixture of curiosity and caution, knowing his uncle's tendency for surprises.

The letter was straightforward enough. Lawrence informed Maverick that one of his recent partners would be visiting him in Birmingham. He also assured Maverick that there was no need to worry about his work; everything was under control. Lawrence even warned him not to come back before his holiday was over.

At the end of the letter, Lawrence added a familiar phrase: "Live up to the legacy." And, in typical Lawrence fashion, he had closed the letter with a playful jab, "telling Edgar to stop sending him death threat letters."

Maverick glanced up at Edgar after reading it, raising an eyebrow. Edgar, ever the composed butler, cleared his throat and said, "It is all for your own good, my lord." Maverick had only been able to respond with an awkward smile, uncertain of how to feel about his uncle's words.

Now, lying under the tree, Maverick's thoughts drifted back to the letter. He wondered who the partner his uncle mentioned could be. His mind briefly considered Julius, but before he could dwell on it further, a small shadow fell over his face.

Startled, Maverick looked up, only to see a small head peering down at him. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone more curious than alarmed.

The little boy grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm your new butler, my lord."

Maverick couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's serious expression. He shifted his position, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at the boy with interest.

The boy, seeing Maverick's amusement, plopped down on the grass beside him, his small legs crossed.

Suddenly Maverick remembered Edgar had mentioned something last night about his grandson. Maverick studied the boy more closely. "You must be Edgar's grandson," he said, more a statement than a question.

The boy puffed out his chest proudly. "Yes! My name is Edward, and I'm going to be your butler, my lord!"

"Oh? Don't you want to try various jobs first before deciding to become my butler?"

Edward tightened his brow, "No, my lord. I have to become your butler at all costs!" There's a determination in his eyes.

"Then how old are you, Edward?" Maverick asks.

"Five years old, my lord." Edward puffy pink cheek bounces when he speaks.

Maverick smiled, reaching out to ruffle Edward's hair. "Well, Edward, you'll have to wait until you're old enough. When the time comes, I'll be sure to hire you."

Edward's face lit up with a wide, joyful smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He nodded eagerly, as if sealing a deal between them. The sight warmed Maverick's heart, a rare lightness settling over him.

A second later, Edward's eyes widened suddenly, as if he'd just remembered something important. He jumped to his feet, dusting off his trousers in a hurried motion. 

"Oh! I almost forgot! Grandfather told me to ask if you need any new books, my lord. He's going to town to pick up some orders, and he can bring them back for you."

Maverick sat up, brushing a few stray leaves off his silk shirt. "I'll go to town myself," he said, standing up. "Tell your grandfather to prepare the carriage for me instead."

Edward nodded enthusiastically, spinning on his heel to run back to the manor. "I'll tell him right away!"

As Maverick saw Edward run recklessly, he said, "Be careful Edward, or you will fall…."

Before Maverick finished his sentences, Edward's feet tangled beneath him, and he tumbled forward with a yelp. Maverick was on his feet in an instant, quickly closing the distance between them. He lifted the boy up, brushing off the dirt from Edward's clothes.

"Are you alright?" Maverick asked, his tone gentle but concerned.

Edward sniffed, looking embarrassed but not hurt. "I'm okay," he mumbled, glancing up at Maverick with a sheepish smile.

Maverick ruffled Edward's hair with a chuckle. "Next time, take it slow. We wouldn't want to keep your grandfather waiting too long, would we?"

Edward nodded, wrapping his small arms around Maverick's neck as he was lifted. Maverick carried him back to the manor, feeling a surprising sense of contentment. 

After changing into more appropriate clothes for a trip to town, Maverick boarded the carriage alone, letting the rhythmic clatter of hooves and the gentle sway of the carriage lull him into a peaceful state of mind. The town was as familiar as ever, though it had changed in small ways since he last visited.

Maverick spent the afternoon strolling through the shops, browsing new books at the local bookstore.

Maverick wandered through the bookstore, his fingers lightly brushing the spines of countless books as he moved from shelf to shelf. He picked up a few titles that caught his eye, letting the scent of fresh pages and old leather bindings soothe his nerves. 

As he turned a corner to explore another section, an old man emerged from behind the counter, shuffling over to where Maverick stood. The man had a kind face and his eyes held a spark of curiosity.

"Good day to you, young man," the old man greeted warmly. "I couldn't help but notice you've been browsing for a while. Are you new in town? I Haven't Seen You before."

Maverick glanced up from the book he was inspecting, offering a polite smile. "Not exactly new. I moved away about fifteen years ago and just returned yesterday."

The old man's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Maverick's face, his gaze intense yet searching. Suddenly, his expression shifted from curiosity to recognition. He blinked a few times, as if trying to confirm what he was seeing.

"Wait a moment," the old man said, his voice tinged with surprise. "You wouldn't happen to be the son of the Beecham family, would you?"

Maverick nodded, slightly taken aback by the man's reaction. "Yes, I am."

The old man's face lit up with a mixture of joy and nostalgia. "Well, I'll be! The young master Beecham, all grown up! I remember when you were just a boy, running around this very shop with your mother. She had such a love for books, always picking out the best."

Maverick smiled, the mention of his mother bringing a warm feeling to his chest. "Yes, she did. This was one of our favorite places to visit."

The old man chuckled softly. "Ah, those were the days. So much has changed since then." He gestured around the shop, as if to include the town itself in his words. 

He continued, "The town's grown, new people have come, and some old friends have gone. But this bookstore—well, it's stayed just about the same. I suppose that's how it is with places like these. They hold onto the past, even when everything else is moving forward."

Maverick nodded, glancing around the shop with renewed appreciation. It was comforting to know that some things had remained unchanged.

"I'm glad to see the bookstore still here," Maverick said. "It's nice to have a place that feels familiar, even after all these years."

The old man smiled warmly. "You're always welcome here, son. If there's ever a book you're looking for, don't hesitate to ask."

"I'll definitely take you up on that," Maverick replied. "Thank you."

As he exited the bookstore, he passed by a boutique, and a faint smile played on his lips as a memory surfaced. Julius with his disaster fashion show. Maverick shook his head, the memory both exasperating and amusing.

Continuing his stroll, Maverick's attention was drawn to an alley where he heard a familiar voice. He paused, tilting his head slightly to catch more of the sound.

It was unmistakably familiar, but there were other voices too, high-pitched, excited, and full of energy. Curious, Maverick walked toward the alley, his footsteps quiet on the cobblestones.

As he reached the back of the alley, he couldn't help but smile at the sight before him. Julius was sitting on the ground, surrounded by a group of children, all of whom were engrossed in a lively card game. 

The children were laughing and shouting, clearly caught up in the thrill of the game, while Julius, ever the charismatic presence, was playfully engaging with them, encouraging their competitive spirits.

For a moment, Maverick simply stood there, watching the scene unfold. There was something undeniably heartwarming about seeing Julius, usually so composed and elegant, sitting cross-legged on the ground, his coat discarded to the side, sleeves rolled up, and a genuine smile on his face.

Finally, Julius looked up, sensing someone's presence. When he found out the person standing before him was Maverick, his eyes widened. 

"Ah, Maverick!" he called out, waving at him with a grin.

Maverick chuckled, stepping forward, "I see you've found some worthy opponents."