Trouble!

James followed the maid through the long, quiet hallways of his family's estate. The atmosphere in the mansion was tense and heavy due to the aftermaths of the assassination. 

His footsteps echoed faintly on the polished floor, and he could hear the soft swish of the maid's skirt as she led him toward the study.

When they finally stopped in front of the large oak door, the maid turned to him with a slight bow. "Master James, your father is expecting you."

James nodded, his heart beginning to race. He took a deep breath, raised his hand, and knocked firmly on the door.

"Enter," came his father's deep, commanding voice from the other side.

James pushed open the door and stepped into the room. The study was as it always was—dimly lit, with shelves upon shelves of old books lining the walls. 

A faint scent of parchment and ink hung in the air, and the heavy mahogany desk at the center of the room stood like an unshakable monument.