Aristocracy

After two days of rest as advised by the doctor, Maverick was ready to leave Nottingham, with Wolfgang and Russell. Before their departure, however, there was one last matter to attend to—a visit with Cavendish.

The door to the confinement room creaked open, and Maverick stepped inside, his polished shoes clicking against the stone floor. 

Dressed in a high-end suit, he looked every bit the dapper aristocrat, exuding an air of quiet authority.

Across the room, Cavendish sat tied to a chair, a far cry from his former aristocratic grandeur. His disheveled hair hung limply over his swollen, bruised face, and his torn lips and bloodied appearance made Maverick pause. 

The sight was shocking, even to someone as composed as him.

Maverick turned to Gordon, who stood silently at his side. His voice dropped to a low whisper. 

"What happened to him? Why is he injured?"