Announcement

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the dining room, casting a warm glow over the polished table where Maverick and Julius were having breakfast.

The tranquil atmosphere was disturbed only by the soft clinking of silverware and the occasional rustle of a newspaper.

Maverick, dressed in a casual silk shirt, was quietly savoring a slice of bread, half-listening to the birds chirping outside. Julius, on the other hand, seemed unusually focused, his sharp eyes glinting with a hint of mischief.

Without warning, Julius looked up from his plate and nonchalantly announced, "By the way, Edgar, Your lord will be attending The London Season this year to find himself a Countess."

The words hit Maverick like a thunderbolt. His hand froze mid-bite, and in his shock, the slice of bread slipped from his fingers, plopping directly into his coffee cup. 

"What?" said Maverick.

The liquid splashed out, staining his pristine silk shirt. Maverick blinked, trying to process what he'd just heard, as the coffee soaked through his clothes.

Edgar beamed with sudden enthusiasm. "My lord, that is wonderful news! A countess, you say? And to think, the Earl of Cardiff returning to London society—this will certainly be the talk of the Season!"

"Wait, Edgar.." Maverick is trying to say a word but no one is paying attention to him.

Julius, entirely unbothered by the chaos he'd caused, casually took another sip of his coffee. "Yes, Edgar. Make sure to prepare the necessary announcements. The Earl of Cardiff is officially back."

Maverick's face turned several shades darker as he slowly turned his head to glare at Julius. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, and after Edgar left the room, Maverick shot up from his seat and grabbed Julius by the collar, pulling him close.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Maverick hissed through gritted teeth, his anger barely contained.

Julius, unfazed by the physical threat, merely grinned, his usual charm not diminished in the slightest.

"Calm down, Maverick. We can't have the nobles suspecting anything. They're very particular about whom they invite to their events. Reputation and connections matter more than you think."

Maverick's grip loosened slightly as the logic of Julius's words began to sink in. But the frustration in his eyes didn't fade. He reluctantly let go of Julius's collar, still glaring at him as he tried to wipe off the coffee stains with a napkin.

Seeing that Maverick was somewhat pacified, Julius continued, adjusting his now-ruffled shirt with a smug smile.

"You'll need to be convincing. That means not only showing up but also mingling, dancing with a few ladies from other houses. You know, playing the part of a proper eligible Earl."

Maverick's face darkened further at the thought. "You're asking me to dance with women just to sell this ridiculous story?"

Julius shrugged, his tone light but firm. "It's a necessary part of the charade. If you're going to pull this off, you need to be all in. We're hunting dangerous creatures, and they won't let their guard down unless they believe you're just another noble looking to settle down and strengthen your business connection."

Maverick sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as the full weight of what Julius was asking him to do settled on his shoulders. "Fine," he muttered, though the reluctance was evident in his voice.

Julius chuckled, patting Maverick on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll do just fine. Besides, you might even enjoy it."

Maverick shot him a withering look, clearly unconvinced. But before he could retort, Edgar re-entered the room, a delighted expression on his face as he announced,

"Preparations are already underway, my lord. The town will soon know that the Earl of Cardiff has returned, and society shall eagerly await your presence in London."

'Well done, Edgar." Julius praised the butler.

Maverick groaned inwardly, realizing there was no turning back now. He forced a smile at Edgar, nodding in acknowledgment, but as soon as the butler left the room, he shot another glare at Julius.

"Just remember," Maverick said through clenched teeth, "you owe me for this. Big time."

Julius merely grinned, the picture of innocence. "Of course, Maverick. Of course."

Maverick and Julius were lounging in the drawing room, enjoying the quiet afternoon as they sipped on their tea. The earlier tension from breakfast had mostly dissipated, leaving behind a more relaxed atmosphere.

Julius, however, was still teasing Maverick about the upcoming London Season.

Suddenly, Maverick broke the silence with a slightly nervous tone. "Did I really have to dance?"

Julius turns to face Maverick. "Definitely. You can't turn this one down."

"Well, the thing is, I barely remember how to dance. The last time I learned was fifteen years ago, and... I might be a bit rusty."

Julius stared at Maverick for a moment, his eyes widening in disbelief. Then, without warning, he burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. It was a hearty, infectious laugh that quickly grew louder, carrying through the entire manor.

"Just as I thought you would probably worry about having a conversation with the lady, it turns out you are worrying about the dance."

Maverick's face flushed with embarrassment. He quickly reached out, covering Julius's mouth with his hand, trying to stifle the sound.

"Will you stop that? It's not funny!" Maverick hissed, his cheeks burning. "It's not like I've had much opportunity to practice."

But Julius's laughter had already caught the attention of Edgar, who promptly appeared at the doorway, concerned and curious. "Is everything all right, my lord?" Edgar asked, his eyes flicking between the two men.

Julius finally managed to calm down, though there was still a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Oh, everything's fine, Edgar," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "It's just that we've realized something rather... amusing. It seems we'll need to teach the Lord here how to dance again."

Maverick groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You don't have to announce it to the whole house, Julius."

But Edgar, ever the efficient butler, nodded seriously. "Of course, my lord. I'll make the necessary arrangements. We'll have you dancing like a proper gentleman in no time."

Julius' eyes soften, with a smile comforting Maverick. "Rest assured, Maverick. I'll be by your side."

Later that afternoon, a tailor arrived at the manor, summoned by Edgar to measure Maverick for the appropriate attire for The London Season. The tailor, a meticulous man with an eye for detail, worked efficiently, taking Maverick's measurements with a practiced hand.

Julius stood nearby, watching the proceedings with an amused expression. Maverick noticed that Julius seemed particularly interested in the tailor's work, his eyes narrowing as he observed every detail.

Once the measurements were completed, Julius approached the tailor, and the two began conversing in low, serious tones.

Maverick, sitting in a chair, couldn't quite catch what they were discussing, but he noticed the tailor nodding thoughtfully, occasionally glancing at Julius with an appreciative look. 

Finally, the tailor straightened up and offered Julius a respectful nod. "You have excellent taste, sir," the tailor said, his voice filled with admiration. "I'll ensure that your request is executed to the finest standard."

"Thank you." Julius said.

Maverick watched the exchange with growing curiosity. As the tailor gathered his things and prepared to leave, Maverick called out to Julius. "What was that about? What did you ask him for?"

Julius turned to Maverick with a mysterious smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You'll see soon enough, Maverick. Consider it a surprise. Let's just say you'll be making quite the impression on the Season."

Maverick frowned, slightly apprehensive but intrigued nonetheless. "I'm not sure if I should be worried or grateful."

Julius chuckled, clapping Maverick on the shoulder. "A bit of both, perhaps. But trust me, it'll be worth it. You're going to turn heads."

Maverick sighed, resigned to the fact that whatever Julius had planned, there was no stopping it now. "Fine," he muttered.

Suddenly, a knock on the door get their attention.

"Come in." Maverick called out.

The door creaked open, and Edgar stepped inside, bowing slightly, "My lord, Lord Weston's horse, Remus, has just arrived at the manor. Now at the stable."

Maverick's face lit up with interest. "Thank you, Edgar. We'll be head down there right away.

But Julius, who was lounging lazily in a chair nearby, waved a dismissive hand. "It's just a horse, Maverick. Hardly worth our attention, don't you think?"

Maverick turned to Julius with a stern expression. "You promised to take good care of Remus," he reminded him, his voice firm. "We should at least go see him."

Julius sighed dramatically but gave in with a shrug. "Fine, fine. If it means that much to you."

Maverick softened his tone, adding with a hint of excitement, "Besides, there's someone else I want to introduce you and Remus to. Let's go."

Curiosity piqued, Julius finally rose from his chair, reluctantly. Together, they made their way to the stables.